It was cold that day, just like the day she died.

Lysander stood out over her grave, remembering how quickly she'd slipped away from them. Cancer did that. Took people in a flash, without regard to life or love. Without regard to family, friends, dreams, hopes, or prayers. It just took. All it ever did. And it took her from him, from everyone that she had mattered to, and he hated that more than he hated anything else in his entire life.

A lit cigarette was clamped between his lips, the tip burning away in the autumn air, sending a choking haze aloft on the breeze. With all the dried, dead leaves around, the cemetery could easily turn into a tinderbox with one spark, but Lysander honestly couldn't bring himself to worry about something so trivial. He took a long drag from the smoking stick of tar and chemicals, his gaze dark and pensive.

Memories surged in his head, unfettered by his hate or his pain. Frost slick windows, cold wind rattling against them, the sterile white and gray of the room. The incessant beeping of the machines hanging from the walls like metal spiders, standing along the bedside like waiting undertakers, all trained on her. She'd been so frail and small, and in a flash she went from smiling and laughing to silent and cold, colder than the howling winds just outside.

He'd brought her roses that day, white roses. Just like the ones he'd brought today. She'd loved them more than red ones, saying they felt more classical to her than the red ones did. White was pure, clean. It meant fresh starts, clean slates, and new beginnings. To him, after that day, all it meant to him was loss. Loss and pain and anger.

He laid the flowers down on her grave, brushing away fallen leaves and dirt, and pulling out the tall grasses that had grown over to obscure her name. He stood up then, lingering for a few minutes more. The chill in the air was nothing compared to the chill in his heart, but he shivered all the same.  Even with the heavy coat he wore, the fur ruff pulled tight around his neck, the wind cut through him like glass, icing him clear to his bones.

A chirping came from his pockets, and after a few seconds of digging, he pulled a cell phone out, holding it to his ear impatiently.

"What?"

"Where are you?" a woman's voice answered, low and weak. "I thought you were going to be here at three."

Lysander looked at his watch, and realized it was almost three already. He swore under his breath, rubbing at his face and looking up at the sky hopelessly.

"Shit. Yeah, I'll be there, I promise. Just had something I needed to do."

The voice paused, then breathed a tired sigh. "You're at the grave again?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

He didn't answer for a moment, looking tersely at the polished headstone, still new looking despite being almost two years old now. "Yeah… yeah, I am."

"Well, better hurry, else by the time you get here I might be in the grave myself." the woman said, a failed laugh choking in her throat.

"Don't you talk like that," Lysander snapped. "Don't you dare. Not after all everything we've been through."

"Sorry…" she said, her voice becoming strained. "I didn't mean it like that, you know that."

"Don't even joke. I'm not up for it today." he replied, looking down at the grave solemnly. He turned and looked back towards where his car was parked. "You okay? Need me to pick up  anything  on my way over??"

The woman laughed, the sound broken and strenuous. "I'm sick Ly, not pregnant. At least, not at this rate." she said wryly.

That stung. "Yeah… uh…"

"I'm kidding Ly. Geez, you really can't take a joke today." she said hoarsely.

He swallowed, grimacing. "Just don't strain anything, I'm on my way."

"Get here quick then." she sighed, hanging up the phone.

Lysander hung up on his end, slipping the phone back into his coat pocket. He took one last pull from the cigarette before laying it atop the headstone, smoke pouring from it like a burnt offering.  He murmured a soft "bye, Mary" before walking back to his car and quickly ducking inside.

He gazed out the dirty windshield for a minute, looking at the autumn sky. Dark clouds wove and drifted around the sun, and it looked like it might rain later that day. He sighed, gripping the wheel and banging his head against it, before turning the key in the ignition. He wove the automobile out of the lot and into the craze of afternoon traffic.

He headed towards the middle of the city, to an old block of apartment buildings. Parking by a small back alley, he trudged down the sidewalk, people casting covert glances, whispering, others just staring at him openly. Lysander had gotten used to being treated like a freak; he honestly didn't give a damn anymore what he looked like to others.
He knew he wasn't exactly a pretty sight: his entire head was a twisted road map of stark, spidery veins, almost black against his pale skin, which wrapped around his neck and most of his face; his eyes were a dirty white rather than a clean healthy one, and his hair, though long, black and glossy, had begun to fall out on one side of his head, so he just shaved that part and let the rest grow as it may.

His phone rang again as he walked, and he briefly considered pitching it into the nearest drain until he saw it was Kyle. He took the call, his pace slowing a bit.  

"Make it quick man, I'm already supposed to be at Alice's already."

"You're STILL not there?? Damn, must have been a waiting line in the cemetery." a man's voice responded, black humor edging his tone.

"You know you can shove it, and you know where you can shove it. Now what's wrong? You never call me unless there's a problem."

"Yeah, about tonight?" he asked hesitantly. "I'm gonna need a ride; my new meds won't let me drive for three hours after taking them."

"Shit man, aren't those the ones you need to take every six hours??" Lysander blanched.

"Yeah," Kyle said, embarrassment evident in his voice now. "Sucks, believe me I know."

"Damn…" Lysander said, raking his hand through his hair. "Alright, it's cool. I'll be there at seven, I'm gonna swing by Simon's first."

"Aw Christ man, if you're gonna get plastered I'll just drive myself."

"Ass, just for that you can slum it and take the goddamn bus."

"Alright, alright, I'm sorry." Kyle said quickly, trying for peace. "Just…. be careful then. No good to Alice if we're both road jerky."

The other man grunted, but knew he had a point. "Yeah yeah, fine. I'll be there at seven so be ready. Don't get stuck in the freaking bathroom."

"Gotcha. See you soon." Kyle said, hanging up first.

Lysander snapped his phone shut, his face a cross between annoyance and shame. He knew he shouldn't give Kyle so much shit, given his condition.  He just irritated the hell out of him without really trying. And when he did go out of his way to try, it made it that much worse.

He walked into the building's lobby, not even bothering to acknowledge the clerk at the front desk. Seeing the elevator out of service again, he trudged up four flights of stairs to the west corner apartment, using his key to open the door and slipping inside.

"Alice? You okay?" he called as he entered, surveying the apartment.

It was still a mess since his last visit, but it was a cozy mess. Magazines and books were strewn about, videos stacked on the tables and shelves, blankets and pillows were everywhere, and a small gray cat was curled up on a cushion on the floor. It opened jade green eyes to look at him, and purred as he stooped to scratch its ears.

"Hey Molly girl," he crooned softly. "Where's your mom at?"

The cat favored him with a slow blink, then turned her head to look at the bathroom and softly meowed. He sighed, rubbing the feline's head and pushing himself to his feet. He walked to the bathroom door and knocked, and hearing a low groan, shoved it open and pushed his way in.

A woman lay on the floor against the tub, her legs crumpled beneath her. Her head was shaved, save for the middle, where a stripe of long, peroxide white locks hung down to the side of her face, just past her neck. Her eyes were brightest blue, but sunken and dark in her head, with dark black and purple circles ringing around them. Her cheeks were gaunt, her skin too pale, and she shook as if cold.

She wasn't wearing shoes, or even socks, and she wore black spandex shorts and a blue tank top over a rather shapely form, but he could see how thin she was getting, unhealthily thin. She smiled as she looked up at him, breathing heavily but weakly.

"Tried to take the pills myself… got stuck." she panted, laughing. Her voice was softer than it had been on the phone, but he could still hear the strain in it. He grunted irritably and without a word scooped her up in his arms, making her yelp, and carried her out to drop her unceremoniously onto the couch.

She scowled playfully at him, but it turned into a full frown as he checked her over; her eyes, her arms and legs, her breathing and heartbeat. He'd learned all the steps from the doctors since she first got sick, and even had CPR training to boot. She kept telling him he was worrying too much about her, but he refused to stop. If anything, her complaints made him more concerned, and in the end she couldn't blame him for it.

He went back to the bathroom, dumping out pills from several bottles and brought them all out to her along with a glass of water. She took them, draining the glass to the bottom.

"How was the cemetery?" she rasped softly, looking at him sadly as he took the glass away.

"…Good." he replied after a moment, coming back to sit with her. "They cleaned it up a lot since my last visit. Still had to clean off her headstone a bit, but that's to be expected, autumn and all." he said, as if reading off of a list.

She grabbed his chin and forced him to look at her. Her eyes were very bright, too bright even. "When are you going to stop carrying her ghost around with you everywhere?" she asked.

"I don't know what you mean." he said quietly, refusing to meet her gaze.

She took his face in both hands and kissed him, long and slow. He finally grunted, taking her hands in his and leaning his forehead against hers. She curled up against him and they sat, quietly clutching eachother.

"You didn't do anything to her, Ly. I told you a thousand times, and so did she." she murmured.

"If I hadn't been so stupid she would have been diagnosed sooner, been able to get treatment sooner."

"Ly, that tumor started long before then and you know it. It wouldn't have made a difference." she said, stroking his face.

He kept his eyes downward, his throat suddenly tight. She coughed abruptly, making him jump, but she just smiled sweetly, running her hands through his hair and along his neck. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight, letting her bury her face in his neck. They were quiet for what seemed like a long time, the only sound being the gentle rattling of the wind outside, and their soft breathing.

"What did the doctors say today?" he finally asked her.

She didn't answer for a minute, but then nuzzled against him lovingly. "They said there was a new line of medication coming in from Sweden they want me to try, see if it will help with the affects of the withdrawal. They have high hopes for it."

"And how much is this one gonna cost us?" he asked irritably.

"It's experimental, so I'll be taking it on a trial basis." she replied, looking up at him. "Once the testing is over, though, I'll have to start paying for it through my insurance."

He grimaced, knowing all of their insurance policies were on the verge of ceasing as it was. This would probably push them over the edge and they'd have to come up with the money themselves. He grunted, pinching the bridge of his nose and screwing his eyes shut.

"Hey," she said, pulling his hands away and forcing him to look at her. "I'll be fine. I have you, so what do I have to be worried about?"

He grimaced, but she beamed at him, eyes shining, and he sighed, shaking his head. She kissed his cheek, and nuzzled against his face. "So are we all just meeting up at the restaurant then?"

He kissed her back, then grunted an affirmative. "Yeah, about seven-thirty. Aimee said she'd have the place all sparkling clean for us."

"I'm glad she's doing ok… I was worried she'd do something drastic again." Alice said, her face concerned.
"Even this long afterward??" Lysander asked.

"They loved eachother, and Aimee said she won't last much longer anyways… I've just been really worried." she sighed.

He kissed her cheek and her lips, drawing her closer to him and laying down together. She grudgingly smiled, kissing his neck and his jaw, and then rested her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. After awhile, she slowly drifted off to sleep, her breathing harsh and ragged, but even and steady.

Lysander stroked her hair, noting how brittle it had become of late, and how cold her skin felt against his. The doctors said her withdrawal was so severe because of her weaker immune system, but that something else was causing the more violent reactions to her medications. They said it was possible that some of the drugs she'd been taking had been laced with some kind of unknown chemical, and that when she'd been overdosed, large amounts of those chemical wound up in her body and couldn't be filtered out.

If they didn't find a successful way to treat her, and soon, she'd die. Not even twenty-three years old, and she'd be dead. He couldn't let it happen; not again, and not to her.

He waited awhile, until he was certain she was asleep, then gently wrapped her up in blankets and settled her down on the couch cushions. Molly got up and slowly padded her way up the strewn pillows, worming her way over the blankets to curl up by Alice's neck. Lysander smiled, but it was heavy with regret and sadness. There was too much heartache in the sight for him.

He left a note on the table, and left, carefully locking the door behind him.

He walked back to his car, keeping a careful eye on the dark rainclouds forming overhead. He didn't dislike the rain, but ever since he'd started keeping part of his head shaved it felt weird having drops fall on bare skin where he was used to having hair. He drove down the main streets, getting stuck in traffic when the clouds finally broke and started a downpour. Some idiot nearly rear ended him because they were going too fast and hydroplaned, but it missed him by mere inches.  He managed to get out of the congestion and took a side street to the hospital.

He parked close as he could, but he still had to make a run for the front doors. The front lobby was so damn huge and sterile looking, and no matter where you were everything smelled like bleach. He shook himself, being not the least bit drier for it, and stomped off to the restrooms to shove his head under an air drier for about five minutes. Hair that long would never dry like that, but it was the best he could do.

Only good thing about the place was that everyone around was used to his appearance by now, so he actually got treated close to normal, as opposed to everywhere else. The woman at the front desk directed him to the east wing of the hospital, towards the pharmacy. He found a six person line at the entrance, and grumbled under his breath, knowing it would probably be an hour before he could even get in the place.

"Well, back already? I thought you weren't due back here another two days." a voice said warmly.

Lysander turned to see a graying, elder gentleman in a long white lab coat walk up, a stethoscope still hanging around his neck and a magnifying lens still attached to one side of his square framed glasses. Dr. Reeve had the kind of smile that made everyone he met want to smile with him, and not only was he one of the most dedicated men Lysander knew, he was one of the very few he actually respected. He extended a hand, which Lysander actually grasped and shook, something else he didn't normally do.

"Not quite yet sir, just picking up some medication today." Lysander replied. "Though by the looks of it, I might as well have booked for an overnight stay."

Reeve barked out a laugh, patting Lysander's shoulder with his free hand. "That's the trouble with having the only pharmacy this side of town; everyone comes here inside of going to places like Walgreen's."

His smiled faded a little as he looked Lysander over, noting how stark his veins had become since the last time he'd seen him. "You feeling alright? I know you can't take much medication with your condition, but I hope you're at least taking something that works."

Lysander smiled sadly and shook his head. "Nah, they still haven't found anything really effective. And I honestly don't want to risk blood clots for 'possibly having a slightly increased oxygen level'." he said, in his best television drug commercial voice.  "This stuff is for Alice, I saw she was running low."

Reeve's smile faded a bit more, and he shook his head, rubbing at his neck with a hand. "Ah, right. Still breaks my heart, seeing that girl have to fight so hard. Damned tests still can't figure out what's all in her body, how to filter it."

Reeve was one of the specialists who handled cases like Alice's, and Lysander's. In fact, the man had worked with all of Lysander's friends at one point or another, so he knew all about their problems and how to help deal with them. Lysander admired the man for his loyalty to them, and he saw how frustrated he was at his inability to help Alice. Lot of doctors didn't think about most patients once they were out of their care, but Reeve wasn't like a lot of doctors.

"She said something about a new medication from Sweden; her new doctors were going to put her in the trials for it." Lysander said, recalling her words from earlier.

"Is that so?" Reeve mused. "Well, it's had a good record in Europe, or so I've heard. Hope it helps at least."
"Yeah… me too."

The line started to move, and the pager at Reeve's belt began to vibrate. He unclipped it and looked at the message scrawled across it, frowning. "Damn. Another bad one. Looks like I'm up to bat." he said, the corners of his mouth slightly curled at his dark joke.

He put a hand on Lysander's shoulder and squeezed briefly. "Give that girl of yours my best, and make sure you take care of her. Yourself too." he said, smiling as he walked off.

"For her, sure." he said, watching him go. "Not so sure about me…" he muttered as the elder man turned the corner.
The rest of the wait was thankfully short, and he was able to pick up everything he'd seen lacking in Alice's meds.

The rain was still pouring when he got back outside, forcing him to make a run for the car, and of course, soon as he started driving the clouds began to break up and the down pour slowly began to let up.

By the time he made it back to Alice's the rain had stopped, and he managed to get inside without waking her up, though he did disturb the cat. Receiving a glare from the furry queen of the realm, he slipped inside the bathroom and swapped out all her empty bottles for full ones, and combined the ones that were running low. As he walked out, he heard Molly meow indignantly, and saw that Alice had woken.

"Where'd you go?" she asked, yawning.

"Just out to the hospital pharmacy. Saw you were getting low again."

She looked at him, her lips pouted. "I thought I said I could do that on my own."

"You also thought you could take your pills by yourself despite me saying 'Don't strain anything, I'm on my way'." he chided.

She pouted and glared at him, but he quickly bent over and kissed her offered lips before she could move away. She laughed, her voice sounding much better than it had before her nap. "I think I need a shower before tonight, I was too tired to take one this morning."

"Well, I was gonna go by Simon's before I went to get Kyle, I could just stop back here, give you some time."

She pouted again, this time a flirtatious gleam in her eyes. "What, you don't want to join me?" she crooned.

His face immediately turned bright red, and his heart started to hammer, which for him, could very dangerous. "Eh, I already took one this morning, I'm good." he stammered, looking away.

She slid up closer to him and ran her fingers over his neck, her hair spilling over part of her face in perfect carelessness. "Alright, be coy. But you're gonna owe me for later." she said heatedly. "And I will add interest for every hour I don't collect."

Wondering if he should be happy or terrified, Lysander kissed her quickly and carefully backed up. "Yeah, okay." he said hurriedly, wishing he could stop blushing like a high schooler. "So I'll be back soon then. You need me to help you into the bathroom-?"

His voice died as he realized what he was saying and saw her eyes light up. "Changed your mind?" she asked innocently.

He shook himself and suddenly felt like he needed to dump his head in a bucket of ice. "Never mind, you seem better, you can probably handle yourself just fine." he rattled off hurriedly.

She stood carefully and hugged him, rubbing her face into his neck. He hugged back, noting thankfully how much warmer she felt than before, and kissed her before he pulled away.

"I'll be fine." she assured him. "Just hurry back to me, and don't get yourself drunk, okay?"

He winced, once again wondering how she read him so easily. With his condition, his blood couldn't filter out alcohol properly, so being drunk could be deadly to him. He still drank, but she always made sure he did so in moderation.
"I'll be good, promise." he said, knowing better than to argue.

She let him out, kissing him again before shutting the door. he could hear water running through the pipes and the muffled sound of the shower running before he was even three steps away from the door, and knew she did that just to mess with him. He hurried down the stairs, wondering if God had intended for him to get this much cardio given his condition, and headed back out grapple with mid-day traffic again.

He drove west about seven blocks and then headed south, a half hour's drive taking him to a small pub nestled amidst the throngs of skyscrapers that towered over the city. Parking a ways down, he walked carefully, watching the shadows growing out from the buildings as the sun began to set. The night crowd around here could be dangerous, but most of them were junkies just looking for their next fix. Lysander never spotted that bastard Alexander anywhere, but every time he came to this area of town he hoped he would, so he could beat the living crap out of him.

A few people shambled along the sidewalk as he went, but most just looked at his face and edged away. The others didn't even acknowledge he was there, just kept stumbling along the pavement trying not to fall and break their faces. Lysander pitied these people, so lost to drink and drug, but some part of him understood why they did it. Given different circumstances, he couldn't be sure that he wouldn't have turned out the same way.

He stepped into the pub, seeing the usual crowd all in their usual spots. It was a small, homey sort of place, more of an old style tavern than a modern bar. But the counters were too chic, the drink menu too varied and vast, and the radio speakers set high and low on the walls played new and old music alike, albeit so low you could barely hear it. It was more for ambiance than entertainment. He walked up to the bar without preamble and sat at his favorite seat, the bartender knowing he was there without needing to look up.

Simon was the last of their small bunch of friends; smaller now, since Mary's death. Out of all of them, Simon had been the one suspected to die the soonest; had Mary's tumor not been so severe it might have been the case. Proven HIV positive since he was a child, his whole life had been one long miracle, but he knew his miracle couldn't last much longer. He went to extreme lengths to avoid illness, but it would eventually catch him. His grayish pallor showed this, but aside from that he was the healthiest looking of all of them, tall and brutish, with short wavy blond hair and a handsome, stoic face.  He always wore the same kind of clothes when tending bar; shirt with cut off sleeves, dark jeans and heavy shoes.

He was drying a glass when Lysander came in, and without a word, set it under the tap and poured a huge drought of Guinness into it. Lysander took it with a nod of thanks and drained it down to the dregs in one long pull, slamming the glass down and slapping his hand on the tabletop for another.

Simon's eyebrows climbed past his glasses and into his hair. "Bad day??" he asked, taking the glass and refilling it.

"Could say that." Lysander murmured, swiping a hand across his mouth to clean the clinging foam from his lips.

Simon pursed his lips, setting the second beer before him and watched him drain it just as quickly. He was about to slap the table again but Simon snatched the glass away and put it in the wash rack. Lysander glared at him but Simon glared back, settling his forearms on the bar and leaning on them.

"You know you can't hold more than two the way you are. So why don't you tell me what's bugging you?" he rumbled.
The other man tsked, looking away briefly, but grunted and resigned himself to telling his friend the day's events. Simon listened intently and arched a brow when he finished.

"So you went to her grave?" he asked carefully. "How'd it look?"

"Yeah... It looked great; they're really taking good care of the place now."

"Good, good…" the taller man muttered, pushing himself up to brace his hands on the bar. "I was worried when I heard it went under new management this last year."

Lysander had felt much the same, but upon seeing the new owners being so attentive, he soon let his worries go. He'd spoken with some of the caretakers during a previous visit, and all seemed dutiful in keeping the place clean and clutter free.

"Yeah, they'll take good care of her." he said, trying to sound assuring. Funny, he was so bent on keeping everyone else feeling reassured when he couldn't even make himself feel that way.

Simon saw that, giving his friend a loaded, empathetic  look. He sighed, tossing the rag he'd been holding off to the side, and went to go serve another customer. Lysander tried to ignore the weight behind that look, but it seemed today was a day for feeling like crap. He didn't want his friends worrying about him, they had enough to worry about themselves.
  
Lysander pulled a cigarette out, flicking open his lighter and setting the end alight. Simon's pub was one of the few smoking bars left in the city, and the only way they got new customers was through word of mouth anyway, so that just meant more smokers. The city kept throwing legal suits at him for it, but he figured he'd be dead before anything could really stick. He hated that Lysander himself smoked, but every time he'd talk to him about it, it would just end with Lysander giving him the one finger salute.

Simon walked back over just as he took his first drag, rolling his eyes and setting an ashtray out in front of him. "Christ, kill yourself sooner, by all means."

"Not this again." Lysander groaned. "I have fucked up hemoglobin, not fucked up lungs."
Simon raised an eyebrow. "One reacts with the other. Think about it for a minute, I'm sure that big brain of yours will figure it out."

Lysander gave Simon a real treat, twin one finger salutes. The larger man just rolled his eyes again and shook his head, swiping a hand through his hair. "We're all meeting up tonight right?"

Lysander nodded, lowering his hands back to the bar top. "Yeah, I gotta pick up Kyle, poor bastard can't drive while taking his new meds."

"Damn. Well, I was gonna call Rick in to take over for me anyways, want I should just come with?"

Lysander thought about it, then nodded his head. "Sure, yeah. Might as well."

"Cool. Just let me finish up and we can make like the wind." Simon said, smiling.

Lysander nodded and let the man go finish his work, focusing all his attention on the cigarette clutched between his lips. Alice didn't like him smoking either, but she didn't rag him about it. He'd been smoking since before they met, even before he really got sick. It was one of the only things that really relaxed him, and he never did it around non-smokers, so nobody could bitch about having their health affected. If he was gonna kick the bucket, he'd do it his own way.  

A groaning sound came as the front door opened and heavy, shambling footsteps echoed dully in the small tavern. A lanky, sickly looking man came to stand beside Lysander, leering over him grimly. He was wearing torn, cast off clothing, his skin dirty looking and his eyes yellowed, and now had two teeth missing, but Lysander still knew him for the cold, eerily handsome man he'd once been. He'd succumbed to his drug lust not long after their last meeting, and how instead of a thriving drug lord he was just another junkie looking to shoot up every chance he got.
"Well well, look whose here." the man said, his voice gravely and harsh as opposed to the smooth, snake-like tone he'd once had.

"Alexander." Lysander said coolly. He didn't turn to look at the man, rather keeping his gaze locked on the opposite wall, but one of his hands clenched so hard you could hear all the bones popping. "I told you if I ever saw you again I'd kill you."

"Feh, as if a gutless little shit-stain like you could kill me. Bet you can't even get it up to bang that girl of yours without pumping yourself full of meds." the man rasped, his voice merry and his eyes gleaming. "How is that little bitch Alice anyways? Thought she'd be dead after all the shit I'd-"

Lysander snatched up the ashtray from the bar top and before the junkie could finish speaking, smashed it right into his mouth. Blood gushed and several rotten teeth went scattering across the bar floor, but before Alexander could even scream, Lysander  grabbed a heavy liquor bottle from behind the bar and smashed it across his face as hard as he could.

The bottle broke, and the former drug lord went sprawling to the floor, one eye ragged and blackened, blood now pouring from his nose and ruined mouth. The blow was apparently hard enough to not only lodge the glass ashtray into the man's mouth, but break it as well.  Shrill cries of agony wheezing from his throat, he weakly spat out several of the broken shards just before Lysander's boot smashed into his other eye and bounced his head savagely against a heavy wooden chair leg.

In a flash several patrons were mobbed around Lysander, pulling him roughly away from the broken, bleeding man before he could rear back for another kick. Simon ran over, swearing under his breath as he saw the damage his friend had done. Lysander said nothing, his gaze ice cold and unreadable.  Alexander was shambling to his knees weakly, unable to see out of either eye, and was uncontrollably vomiting blood and glass shards onto the floor.

Several of the patrons wanted to call the police, but Simon talked them down and called them himself. Lysander sat down at the bar again, finishing his cigarette. When two cops came in through the door he didn't even look up. One of the men was shorter and heavier set, while the other was tall and lean. The shorter cop looked at Lysander like he wanted to question him,  but the other one went straight to Alexander and squatted down to look him over. It spoke volumes that none of the patrons had actually gone out of their way to try and help the scumbag, not even to wipe up his blood.

"Well well, look whose here." the cop said, cheerfully mimicking what Alexander had said just minutes before. "Been awhile, Alex. What happened to the expensive suit? The Rolex? All that fancy imported crap?"

Alexander wheezed out a breath, and was able to force one eye open to look at the man hatefully.

"I mean really, you looked a hell of a lot better the last time I dragged your ass to the station. What was it you said, something about never finding anything that would stick?" the cop said, stroking his chin thoughtfully. He then shot out a hand and riffled through the man's raggedy pockets until he pulled out a capped syringe and a sizable bag of sheer white grainy powder.

"Well guess what, this'll stick like frigging super glue." the cop said smugly, and with a dark smile he grabbed the former drug lord by his shirt and dragged him to his feet, pulling him out the door and all but throwing him into a waiting ambulance that had just pulled up.

The EMTS looked at the cop like he was crazy, but he just smiled cheerfully and waved them off, walking back inside and sitting down at the bar next to Lysander, much to his partner's confusion. The seated cop looked at him and laughed, waving him off as well.

"Go on Sam, I got this covered. Need you to escort that scumbag to the hospital, don't want him dying before we thrown his ass in the slammer." he said, smiling widely.

His partner looked at him like he'd grown a third nostril, but nodded carefully and left the pub, a police car driving off with the ambulance in tow. The cop turned and leaned heavily on the bar, looking over at Lysander with a serious look on his face.

"Jesus frigging Christ Ly, do you have any idea what might have happened if Simon wasn't able to get a hold of me?? If some other cop had shown up instead!?" he snarled, slamming his hand on the counter top violently. "What the hell were you thinking, you could get charged for aggravated assault for God's sake!"

Lysander didn't look impressed, simply taking a long pull from his cigarette and blowing the smoke out one side of his mouth. "I warned him. He didn't listen. Simple as that."

"Shit man, you're fucking insane, you know that?" the cop said, taking off his cap and running his hands over his face and through his hair.

Lysander snorted. "Gee, wonder where I got it from."

The man rolled his eyes and groaned, then started to laugh tiredly, slumping back in his chair and looking up at the ceiling. "Yeah yeah, family trait. But I'm not gonna be around forever, little brother. I can't keep bailing your ass out of trouble every time you dive in head first. You got lucky tonight."

Lysander grimaced, looking over at the man he called big brother. Michael was a foot taller than him, with the same pale skin and dark hair, but while Lysander had sharp edged features and long hair, Michael had a softer, more stoic look to him, and kept his hair cut short. More of a difference, Michael's blood didn't turn poisonous every twenty-four to forty-eight hours.  Lucky him.

"I knew you'd be listening to the bandwidth this time of night anyways. Even if Simon hadn't called you directly, you'd have shown up." Lysander reasoned, crushing the spent cigarette into another ashtray.

Michael sighed, sitting up straight and drumming his fingers on the bar top. "Yeah okay, you got lucky and had a plan. Still doesn't guarantee this won't come back and bite you in the ass."
"I'll worry about that if it happens. No point getting worked up."

"True enough, I suppose…." Michael conceded. He scooted the chair back, standing up and placing his cap back on his head. "Been waiting a year and a half to drag that bastard back in, guess I should be glad you got your shots in while you could."

"If those nosy drunks hadn't stopped me, he'd be dead. Problem solved."

Michael turned to look harshly at his younger brother. "Yeah, and you'd be charged with murder, sentenced to prison, and probably die from not getting your treatments regularly. I'd lose a brother, Simon, Aimee and Kyle lose a friend, and Alice loses her boyfriend." he said, snorting. "Call Disney little bro, you can sell this as the perfect happy ending."

Lysander glared at him, but part of him felt the burning embarrassment of truth in his brother's words. He hadn't been thinking about that, he just wanted Alexander dead. Hell, death would be too good for him, but at least that way he wouldn't be able to pop back into their lives that way.

"Shit…. I hate you when you're right."

"Then you must hate me 24/7, cause that's how often I'm right." the elder brother said smugly.

Lysander snorted. "Yeah, and you stay a beat cop cause you're just so humble about it."

"The brass'll come around. They just don't understand a man of my complexity." he countered smoothly.

"Maybe the failed psyche exams have something to do with it."

"Is this how you thank me for saving your veiny ass? Alice needs to teach you some manners."

"Yeah yeah…" Lysander grunted. He looked at his brother grudgingly, his mouth looking like he'd sucked on a lemon. "Thanks. For covering for me."

Michael raised an eyebrow, smiling that smug grin, but shook his head and ruffled Lysander's hair, just the way he hated it. He scowled, but didn't swat at his hand like he usually did. Brotherly bonding moment of the year right there.

Simon came over, fellow bartender Rick having finally come in after the dust settled. He nodded to Michael as he pulled on his coat, which was Lysander's cue to get up himself.

"Here's hoping the coke head gets life." Simon said fiercely, arm extended.

"Dunno about that, but I'll see what I can do." Michael said, shaking Simon's offered hand.

"We're getting everyone together tonight, think you could make it?" Simon asked, ignoring Lysander's eye roll and groan.
Michael smiled at his irate brother, but shook his head. "Nah, gonna be a load of paperwork to do to get that bastard good and jailed. Maybe tomorrow night, my treat."

Simon's eyebrows went up, and he smiled. "May take you up on that, then."

"Within reason." Michael added hurriedly. For a man with such a serious condition, Simon could hold his liquor like nobody's business. Michael had lost to him in several drinking contests, and had suffered not only devastating defeats, but long crippling hangovers to boot.

"Chicken." Simon scoffed, laughter etched on his face.

"You can get hammered and act like idiots later, we got places to be." Lysander said, his voice edged with annoyance.
The two men rolled their eyes and smiled, all three filing out and waving goodbyes as Michael left in his own police car, and Simon following Lysander to the north side of town. A small duplex sat amidst one of the nice groupings of apartments, and as they both pulled up, a lanky man of medium height ran down the front stairs and jogged around to the other side of Lysander's car.

With medium length black hair, dark green eyes and a perpetual five o clock shadow, Kyle might have been easily mistaken for a more well known man of the same name, albeit he wasn't as muscled, and he didn't have a power ring that could do anything he imagined. Kyle hated when people compared him with a comic character,  but he did admit it would be cool to have the power ring. He always wore blue jeans, and despite the cold, tonight he wore a red t-shirt and a plush gray hoodie.

As he got into the car, Lysander could tell he wasn't adjusting well to his new meds. A light sweat gleamed on his brow, and he could see the distraction in his eyes, like his mind was focused on something other than the present. He looked him over before he turned the ignition again.

"You alright…?" he asked carefully.

"Yeah, I'm cool." Kyle said hurriedly.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, trust me, I'm good." he said, nodding enthusiastically.

Lysander still looked hesitant, but nodded and pulled away from the sidewalk, Simon following behind. They doubled back, going past the pub and back to Alice's apartment. Lysander took every second step running up, and when he was just about to knock the door opened and Alice walked out.

She wore black jeans and dark gray sneakers, with a long sleeved top and heavy looking leather jacket. Her hair wasn't as brittle looking as before, and her eyes were shining brighter than starlight. She jumped into his arms as soon as he opened the door and kissed him, and then despite her wild protests, he carried her all the way down all four flights and out to the car.

"You're going to kill yourself one of these days." she huffed, scowling at him as he lowered her to her feet in the lobby.

"I'm already dying, might as well make the best of my time left." he shrugged.

She frowned, hugging him, and he took her out to the car. Kyle had evidently decided to switch over to Simon's car, a very tactful decision that could only have come from Simon himself. Kyle was denser than lead when it came to courtesy. Alice curled up on the seat next to him as they drove, and fell asleep not five minutes later. She needed all the rest she could get, and he was happy to give it to her.

They made their way towards the east side, to a small café that sat on the edge of the river front. It was an old looking place, but clean and well kept.  Outside were ornate tables and chairs, all wrought of blackened iron. The inside was more like a coffeehouse than a café, with plush furniture everywhere and low lying tables covered with various books. A radio played quietly in the background, a soft, relaxing tune that seemed to suit the small restaurant perfectly. There was a fireplace off to one side, used in the winter, but it was a chill enough autumn that Aimee had it built to a roaring blaze as they arrived. Halloween decorations were already up, in the windows, on the tables, strung up on the ceiling, and various pictures and ornate dioramas were hung from the walls. Halloween was Aimee's favorite holiday, and she went all out to celebrate it.

She greeted them at the door, smiling from ear to ear. Her hair had just started to grown back in, a light haze of dark red covering her scalp, and it made her mauve colored eyes look all the more striking. Her skin was regaining its darker mocha color, and it looked much healthier than it had recently.  She still wore an apron over her blue jeans, but the café was empty, and she had on a long sleeved black shirt with orange horizontal stripes on the arms rather than her short sleeved work shirt.

She hugged them all as they came in, Lysander lingering in her embrace a bit longer than the others. She kissed his cheek and looked at his face, her hand straying over his hair and his neck.

"So you decided to shave it?" she said, her voice bubbling with laughter. "You look ridiculous!"

He glowered, but it was feigned. He was happy, seeing her look so revitalized. Her new therapy must have been working wonders.

A loud yipping sound came from one of the couch cushions, making Kyle jump and yelp out loud. They all looked at him and laughed as from underneath the cushions came a small Yorkshire terrier, with short black and brown fur, not more than two years old. The pup scrambled up on the couch, small tail wagging, and yipped enthusiastically at everyone.

"Damn it Aimee, you know I hate it when he does that!" Kyle complained, face flush with embarrassment.

"And he's gonna keep doing it because he can see it gets to you." Aimee said smugly, scooping the puppy up and crooning at it. "Isn't that right Theodore?"

The small pup yipped and licked at her face lightly, his tail wagging so fast it could probably work as a motor.

They all gathered on one of the larger couches, Kyle opting to sit on a plush chair that he pulled up alongside it.  Alice sat with Lysander on one end, Simon towering over Aimee even when they were sitting, Theodore curled up on a pillow and falling asleep. Aimee had made a huge pot of herbal tea and set out a whole array of different foods for them, another good sign. Aimee loved to cook more than anything, and when she was making this much in her spare time, Lysander knew it meant she was feeling on top of the world.

"So why do you have that melancholy look on your face, Zips?" she asked innocently, smiling over the edge of her mug and using the nickname she knew he hated. She'd called him that the first time they'd met in the hospital, because of how all his veins made it look like his face was covered with zippers.

He did actually glower at that one, but grunted and told her about going to the cemetery earlier in the day.

She nodded slowly, the smile on her face turning a bit sad. "Did you leave flowers..?" she asked quietly.

He nodded. "White roses…. didn't bring them before, thought she'd like them."

Aimee grabbed his hand, squeezing it tight. He tried not to see the dark lines under her eyes, even darker than Alice's, and tried even harder not to see the tears gathering at the edges. "Thanks… I couldn't get out there this past week, work and all. Was hoping someone else could get out there."

"It's not like we'll forget… I don't think we could." Kyle said, his voice muffled from all the cookies he was shoveling in his mouth.

Simon rolled his eyes, and smacked him on the back as he started to choke on one of them. Aimee's smile turned bright again, handing him a cup of the tea that he quickly gulped down, gasping for breath. Alice was leaning against Lysander, her eyes heavy with exhaustion, but awake and content. The small café seemed even smaller now, much more like a home than Lysander had ever really known.

A home for six dying friends; only five left now. They'd all met in the hospital, years before, all burdened with the knowledge that they would not live full, normal lives. Mary and Aimee both had cancer; Mary in her brain, Aimee in her arms and legs. Kyle had a genetic mutation that caused his organs to continue growing at a faster rate than his body, even after reaching adulthood. Simon was HIV positive since birth, his long life a miracle that couldn't last.

Lysander himself had self destructive hemoglobin, which refused to carry the proper amount of oxygen through his blood and expel things like carbon dioxide. His own blood turned to poison in his veins if he didn't get it specially filtered every twenty-four to forty-eight hours.

Alice had been normal, healthy. At least until she'd gotten forcibly hooked on coke, with Alexander as her supplier. He'd spiked her last batch, for fun he said, and watched her overdose, nearly dying. She wound up in the hospital, broken and weak. Lysander soon went after him and tried to kill him, but the others followed to stop him. He refused to listen to them, chasing after him with murder in his heart, but he was always two steps behind him. He spent a long time hunting him, his friends tagging at his heels, too long in fact. Too long for Mary.

Her tumor grew unexpectedly, swelling up by almost a quarter of its previous size. They'd spent so much time trying to stop Lysander from getting himself killed, she hadn't gone in for her regular examination. Such a small amount of time, but enough to make her inoperable. Incurable.

The same way Lysander had fallen for Alice, so in turn had Aimee for Mary. She was there, holding her as she died. She tried to kill herself several times after that, but the others stopped her each time. Lysander blamed himself for it all; if he hadn't been so obsessed with finding Alexander, she might have been saved. In his eyes, he was the one who took Mary away from them. His thoughts turned darker, back to that last day with her.

Mary sliding up beside him and wrapping her arms around his neck. Saying how she didn't blame him, how he shouldn't blame himself. She'd felt so cold, so fragile. Like if he hugged her too hard, she'd shatter.

He remembered Aimee's wailing, how it had ripped his heart in half. Kyle wouldn't leave her hospital room, even after they took her body away. Simon and Alice just cried in silence. He vaguely remembered Michael being there, restraining him. Remembered his bloody hands, and broken mirrors. Ripping the seat right off the toilet and hurling it through the glass shower doors. Remembered the tears, how they wouldn't stop streaming down his face, how his throat was raw and worn from his screaming.

Aimee slid up next to him, looking at him worriedly. He looked up, seeing that everyone was staring at him. Aimee looked sad, but was smiling, cupping his face with both hands.

"It's okay." she whispered. "You're okay."

He blinked at her, and realized he was crying, tears running down his face like rainwater. He scrubbed at his face quickly, trying to stop, but they just kept coming. Alice hugged him close, burying his face in her shoulder, stroking his hair.

"It's okay sweetheart… just let it all come out." she said softly.

He felt ridiculous, crying without even knowing why, not even knowing when he started. He thought he didn't have any tears left, after that day. He gripped Alice's back tightly, crying like he hadn't for two whole years.

He wasn't sure how much time passed before he finally began to settle down. He felt drained, like all that crying had pulled something else out of him. He sat up to see Alice's face, wet from his tears, and she smiled at him and kissed him. The other smiled at him, glad he'd finally been able to let it all out. Even Theodore had woken up, and was poking his cold little nose at Lysander's hand, worming his warm little head under his hand.

"Sorry…" he whispered, his voice hoarse. "Dunno where that came from…"

"So where's Michael?" Aimee asked him quietly, knowing he'd want a distraction. "I thought he'd come tonight."

Lysander's eyes darkened a bit, and his mouth twisted into a grimace as he wiped at his face. Simon had a similar look, leaning his arms on his knees and looking pensive. Aimee and Alice looked at them curiously, while Kyle went back to eating.

"He's not coming… he arrested Alexander tonight." Simon finally said, putting it out in the open. Kyle nearly choked again, looking at Simon incredulously.

The two women immediately looked back at Lysander, but he refused to meet their gazes. He just looked down at the floor and shrugged.

"What happened?" Alice asked, her voice sounding like she already knew the answer, but wanted to hear it from him.

He didn't say anything for a minute more, then sighed and told them what happened at the bar. If the two women had any disdain for what he did, they didn't voice it, and it was one of the few times Kyle knew to keep his mouth shut. Simon mentioned how he'd called Michael in right away, so likely there wouldn't be any trouble, but it didn't seem to make Alice feel any better.

"You could have killed him…" she said quietly.

"I should have." Lysander snarled. "You nearly died because he thought it would be funny to make you overdose! And thanks to whatever crap he spiked it with you might still die…" he said, his voice drying out in his throat.

She grabbed his arm, holding tight. "I told you, as long as I have you, nothing will happen to me."

He grunted, still unconvinced. "That bastard screwed up your life and nearly killed you. Death is too good for him."

"And if he'd hadn't done it," she said very quietly. "I never would have met you."

That shut him up. He scowled, but moved his arm, pulling her close to him so he could scoop her onto his lap.

"Leave him in the past. He'll get his just desserts now, so let him go." she said, almost begging.

He growled low in his throat, but she just looked at him with those bright eyes of hers, and he groaned, rubbing a hand over his face.

"You could have died."

"But I didn't. I'm here, with you, and I intend to stay. So please, just let it go." she whispered, grabbing his face and forcing him to look at her. "For me. Please…"

He gave a long, deep sigh, and gently rested his head against hers. "Okay… I'll try."

She smiled, wrapping her arms over his shoulders and holding tight. The others just smiled and stayed quiet, long being used to their small, intimate conversations.

The wind started to pick up outside, the rattling and banging against the windows making Kyle jump again. Aimee shivered just looking at it, and Simon went to go throw more wood into the fireplace. The café was electrically heated, but the flames from the fire seemed to settle them, made them feel more secure. Aimee had bought this place to be a haven for people needing a quiet, safe place to be, and for them it had become their second home.

"So that's that, what do we do now?" Kyle groaned from his chair. He was slumped over nursing an aching stomach from gorging on all those cookies. "Not like we exactly planned anything besides coming here."

"Well… why do we need to?" Lysander suddenly asked. They all looked at him, and he suddenly felt embarrassed. "This is our place, isn't it? Why would we need to go anywhere?"

They all looked at eachother, then at the massive spread of food laid out before them and the piles upon piles of books littering the tables. Kyle shrugged, grabbing another handful of treats and slumping back on his chair, his stomach no longer seeming to be of concern.

Aimee fidgeted, looking somewhat sheepish. "I do have a bunch of old movies in my office in back," she piped in. "But we don't have a working TV…"

Simon's ears perked up, and he turned from where he was crouched by the fireplace. "I've still got that big integrated set in the truck of my car… still works. Could wire it through your hard line connection to get a signal." he mused.

They all blinked at him, Aimee looking less sheepish and more excited. Simon dragged Kyle outside with him to help him life the thing out of his trunk, icy cold wind blowing in through the door as they left. Lysander felt Alice shiver against him, and held her closer.

Within minutes the huge old set was inside and Simon was wiring it into the hard lines, while Aimee went to bring out all the movies she had. Kyle started pushing furniture around, Theodore nipping at his heels, and pretty soon the place was set with the TV in the center alongside the fireplace.

"Ly, why don't you grab those blankets out of the back of the car?" Alice asked, still looking cold.

"Sure. I'll just be a minute." he said, kissing her quickly and jogging outside to the car.

The wind was howling now, the autumn air colder than ice and the full moon was out. He could hear thunder rumbling in the distance, and from the looks of the clouds, the rain from earlier to going to have an encore. He scooped all the blankets out of the trunk and carried them inside just as the first few drops began to fall.

Aimee had lowered the shades on the windows and closed off the kitchen area from view, and with all the furniture rearranged, it was feeling more and more like a home. Simon had the TV up and running, and was bickering with Kyle about what to put on, Aimee was seated in one of the chairs, with Theodore curled up happily on her lap, and Alice laid on the couch, her eyes sparkling as she turned to look at him.

Standing there, he thought about all the dark things he'd been worrying about all day long, and realized he hadn't had a single, simply good thought. Just one that was in the now, where his loved ones were. He sighed, wondering if he was thinking about things too much.

They were alive. That was something to be happy about.

He settled down on the couch next to Alice, draping one of the blankets over her and pulling her close to him. The rest he set on the floor, only to see them scooped up by Simon and one of them thrown at Kyle's head. Aimee laughed, bright and loud, her puppy yipping and wrestling with a blanket corner in a fierce tug of war. Simon was cursing under his breath until finally a picture bloomed on the screen, and Casablanca started playing in old, grainy black and white. And just for a second, he thought he heard something underneath the laughter, the cursing, and barking. A light, gentle laughter he hadn't heard in over two years.

He turned his head, looking out into the dark night, but only hear the howling wind. Just his imagination.

Alice smiled at him, nuzzling up next to him. "So what's that big smile for?" she asked coyly.

Lysander hadn't even realized he had a huge grin on his face as he turned and looked around at everyone. He sighed and pulled Alice closer, kissing her deeply.

"Just counting my blessings, hun. Think I should start doing it more often."