The woman had showered and changed before leaving the apartment she shared with Pierce and Dagger. She still wasn't feeling entirely up to par but she was a lot better than she had been after the fire. She had put on another pair of Pierce's sweatpants and another one of his t-shirts. (She's actually wearing a bra and panties now, too.) She's pulled her hair back into a ponytail to keep it out of her face.

She arrived at the cemetery early. Not too early but early enough to be there before Silas. She had even stopped at the store and bought a new pair of sneakers. Black ones this time. She'd put them on once getting out of the store and put her sandles in the backseat.

Into the creepy place she went. Yes. She doesn't like cemeteries. She went in anyway though. And headed for the place that she knew Silas would head to once he arrived. She was careful not to step in places that she shouldn't. It creeps her out to step on someone's grave.

Now, she waits.

Silas is actually angry this time. He doesn't enter with the air of calm about him that is usually around him. He walks through the cemetery quickly, being two minutes behind schedual, and moves quickly, leaving a puff of wind in his path. He weaves through the cemetery headstones towards the one that was suposed to be his, a small chisel in his right hand.

He's dressed tonight in black pants, slacks mind you, and a button down dark blue shirt. His white hair and blue eyes look radiant against the dark clothing and the night times general darkness. The expression on his face is rather determined as he approaches her.

"I'm sorry I'm late," he says softly, softer then his features appear.

He drops the chisel on the grave and begins to collect the book and the picture left there by Pierce, leaving the flowers but plucking out the 'in memory of Silas Shepiro' card.

She can sense him, smell him really, before he reaches her. She shifts slightly as she can sense the different air about him. The beast stirs ever so slightly as well. Always on guard. Always ready to protect her human host. If anything happens to her host, she dies as well. And she can't let that happen, now can she?

"It's okay," she said and watched him. "I got here early. What are you doing?"

"Getting my name off of this stone." Stone. Not head stone or anything to that effect.

"Tell Pierce, tell him whatever you want. I'm not dieing unless that bast..." he stopped himself short with a bite to his own tongue, reminding himself he's in the pressance of a lady. "That doctor dies." He paused for a moment and set the books aside and looked at her. "Are you alright? You weren't in the fire were you?" He sounded genuinlly concerned for her.

She stood there, watching him. "Oh," she said quietly.

She shifted her stance again slightly as he spoke of telling Pierce and such. "I almost told him this afternoon," she told him. "Because of what you'd done for him. He's really rather disturbed by it and thinks someone is doing it to hurt him."

She continued to watch him when he stopped and looked at her. She frowned slightly without meaning to. "Yeah," she said softly. "I'm okay. I... I was..."

She paused and swallowed. That tickle feeling was back in her throat and she so badly wanted to just give in and start coughing to get rid of it.

"I was in the building." Her voice was quite hushed at this point. The thought of having been so close to death by just being in the building was still enough to shake her up a bit.

“I had to,” he replied. He knelt down and lifted the chisel and began to chip at the smooth stone surface. He chipped slowly at his name first. This would take a while. But it had to be done. He couldn’t just let this person have his name, this person that a nutty freak just ‘needed out of the way’.

“It would have taken him forever and he needed to be with you. It took me twenty minutes and I have no one in need of me.” Well, it’s reasonable and rather correct. He turned his eyes up to her when she said she’d been inside the building. “You weren’t burned.” His eyes dropped over her body, scanning her arms. “Are you alright?”

She just stood there. Watching. As he chipped away at his name on the stone. She couldn't help but wonder who it was that lay in the ground since it obviously wasn't Silas. She didn't say this aloud though. No. She wouldn't do that. It wasn't her to do so.

"I knew it was you the minute I saw the name on the papers in the folder he showed me," she said quietly. "I almost told him because I couldn't stand to see him the way he was while he was trying to figure it out. It hurt me inside to know that I knew the truth but couldn't tell him."

She shifted slightly as he looked up at her. "No. I wasn't burned," she confirmed. "A fireman came and got me out. 'She' was panicking though and I started to pick up on it." She paused. Would he notice how she'd referred to her beast? "I was in shock I guess from what Scott, the fireman, said. I was in the laundry room doing some laundry trying to clean up after 'her'."

She sighed softly to herself. "Yeah. I'm alright. Pierce set up an appointment with the doctor for tomorrow afternoon. He wants to make sure I'm okay. I don't blame him though. I've not told him about this irritating tickle I've got in my throat. Don't want to worry him any more than he already is."

Silas wondered the same thing. Who exactly was in the ground beneath his name? Who could look so much like him that when his body was swapped after Pierce identified him, the doctors could scarcly tell the difference? Or was his only doctor that crazy man? Right now, he didn't want to think about it. Right now, he just wanted his name off of that stone.

But when she told him about Pierce trying to figure it out, about hurting not being able to say anything, he put the chisel back down and stood up smoothly, took both of her hands lightly in his. His hands were already covered in dust and grit from the headstone. "I'm sorry I've had to put you through this, I really am. I...owe you a lot. I owe you everything for this. It was a lot to ask of you and I never should have asked. I just...I could not bare seeing him hurt again."

Don't want to worry him any more than he already is.

"Pierce is a smart man. He worries and when he does, he's usually right. He's taking you to Lynn?"

She watched him stand up and her mismatched eyes dropped down to her hands being held lightly in his. She kept her eyes there as she listened to him. After a few moments, she lifted her head so that mismatched eyes gazed at him. Has he noticed her eyes? How they look like Pierce's except they're opposite?

"Teach me," she says. "Repay me by teaching me to co-exist with 'her'." She's serious. "Please. I want to be able to live my life without having to fear each and every moment if something is going to set 'her' off and cause 'her' to come out when 'she' wants." Has he noticed yet that she's not referring to her beast as 'it' anymore? He's a smart man. I'm sure he has.

"And be there when I tell Pierce," she states. "That you're not dead. That it's you that did that for him. You have to be there. To help explain to him why I've had to keep this from him. I can't bear the thought of him being upset with me. Not even a little bit."

"Yes. He's taking me to Lynn," she said with a slight nod. "She's not going to let on that she's met me before has she?" Yes. She's worried about this.

Yes, he's noticed both her eyes (how could he not when they reminded him so much of Pierce and Dagger?) and that she referes to the wolf as 'her' now rather then 'it'. It hasn't suprised him. He had expected after a little bit of suggestion and maybe some work with Pierce would help her progress a little bit.

"I've told you I will help you. I will teach you. I'll help you to coexist and to control her when you fear she'll come out." Silas rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb and then let go of her hands slowly, realizing after a moment that she'd let him touch him and her beast hadn't become angry, Ylva hadn't become frightened.

"I can't be there. You...If I just walk in, he may go into shock. I'm suposed to be dead. I need you to tell him, let him know I'm alive, that I'm not going anywhere this time, that your serious and not playing games. And then I'll come. I'll explain it all to him for you, tell him why you couldn't tell him. Just make him believe I'm alive first. And Dagger...get Dagger out of there for it."

Thats the last thing he wanted to do. Pierce could come out of shock. Dagger had had enough trama in his short life.

"Not if I tell her not to. She knows whats been going on."

No. She'd not been frightened. Nor had her beast become angry. Both had finally accepted that the man meant neither of them any harm. "Thank you," she said softly and let her hands drop back to her sides.

She frowned as she listened to him. She frowned at the thought of having to tell Pierce alone. "What if I were to call home right now and tell Pierce to see if the boy upstairs would babysit, both of us get in the car and drive to the apartment building. You stay outside, like, across the street where you can see our livingroom window. I go upstairs, talk to Pierce and, like, open and close the curtains for you to come up?"

Can you tell she wants to do this as soon as possible? She needs to get that heavy guilty weight off of her shoulders.

"Please do that. Tell her not to tell. Not to even show any sign of having seen me before. Or something. Unless we do this... tell Pierce... tonight. Then it won't matter..."

Silas seemed to think about this for just a moment. That had been how he wanted to tell Pierce. He'd wanted to be there for Pierce to see right after she'd told him or she'd be pummeled with anxious questions, annoyed and bugged by Pierce all night. And if she didn't answer her questions, Pierce would walk out annoyed, pout somewhere and come home just as annoyed. He's delt with that sort of thing from Pierce before.

Silas took a deep breath, filling his chest out and then narrowing again when he let the breath out.

"Fine. Tonight." He nodded to her but then turned to the head stone again. "Not before I'm finished." This was important to him, and possibly his sanity. He picked the chisel back up.

"I'll...." he began to scrap at the stone again. "Tell.....Lynn....not....to." Each tim he scrapped away more of his name.

His answer seemed to relieve her. Can you see it? The relief in her eyes I mean. "Thank you," she said quietly. She then fell silent and stood back to watch him remove his name from the stone. It was good that the stone wouldn't hold his name upon it any longer. But it was a shame for whoever it was that was buried there. The poor nameless person. She couldn't help but wonder if there was some way... any way at all... to find out who that person in the grave was. None of this did she speak out loud though.

He didn't reply to her thanks. He was far too involved with his name on the stone. And when he'd chiseled away the name, he hesitated and then chisled away at another part until, then another above his name, until the stone read:

___________
January o2, 1981-___

If Silas had anything to do with it, in the future, there would be a name on that headstone, and possibly a death date. He'd left his own birthdate however, simply so the stone would not be blank. Then he stood, his black pants and his hands covered in white dust and turned to her.

Not a word came from her as she watched him chisle away his name and date of death. It really was sad that the person in that grave was unknown. It showed so by the way the stone now read.

She tore her gaze away from the nearly blank stone to look at Silas as he stood up and turned to her. "You okay?" she asked softly before taking a step towards him and putting a hand lightly on his arm.

She looked at the dust covering his hands and such. "Let's go somewhere so you can clean up. I'll call Pierce while you're doing that." Not a suggestion. But not forcefully said either.

"No." He replied, then stared down at the headstone. "I'd thought getting my name off of that stone would be better for me. Now it just..." He turned away from it. looks empty. Then hetouched her hand, gave a light squeeze. "I'll be alright." Not true. He's still haveing a rough time coping with the fact that he was stone dead only nine days ago.

"Lynn's house isn't far from here," he agreed. And he started walking in that direction, out of the cemetery.

She gave his arm a light squeeze. Just to let him know that she was there for him basically. Yes. She was already taking a liking to the man. Not in the way she likes Pierce mind you.

"The car is over here," she said and headed in the direction of it once they got out of the cemetery. She was instantly relieved to be out of there. "Just tell me where to go."

Silas got into the car and took a deep breath and sighed. Then made a soft sound that might have been a sob but somehow sounded happy rather then sad. He could smell Pierce and Dagger in the car, he'd smelled it faintly on her but he could really smell them here.

He gave her instructions that took them to the good end of town, only four buildings down from where he'd taken her into the doctors offices in the basment of a building. Silas let himself into one of the apartments on the first floor with a copy key.

"The phone is there. I won't be long."

And he left to the bedroom.

It didn't take her long to drive to where he told her to. She followed him inside. A nod was given and she headed right for the phone. She picked it up and dialed.

Ring... ring...

Pierce had made the mistake of taking Dagger to the park and Dagger had naturally gotten dirty. Maybe dirty was an understatment. So he'd been fighting Dagger about getting out of the bathtub for half an hour. When the phone rang, he stopped trying to persuade him and just pulled him out and wrapped him up and went to the phone.

"Yeah." And muffled. "Stop it." Dagger had started thudding the cabnits with his foot and struggling to get down.

She didn't have long to wait for the phone to be answered. Her stomach did a flip flop.

"Hi honey," came her voice from her end of the phone. "I need you to see if Dagger can stay upstairs for tonight. I need to come home and talk to you about something. It's very important."

What was he suposed to say to that?

"Of course." He frowned and put Dagger down, ignoring that the towel slid off the boy and concentrated on holding his hand so he wouldn't run off. "Are you alright?" He sounded concerned. This wasn't like Ylva.

----

Silas came out of the room redressed, this time in navy slacks and a white shirt, his white hair and blue eyes less but still very striking. He lingered at the edge of the living room, acting as if he weren't listening but eventually he moved closer until his sensitive ears could hear Pierce's voice through the receiver. He swallowed, stared at the phone.

She held her finger up towards her mouth as she noticed Silas standing there. Indicating to him to not make a sound.

"Yes," she says into the phone. "I'm okay honey. I just need to talk to you about something."

She paused.

"I'll be home in about ten or fifteen minutes," she told him and glanced towards Silas just to make sure that was okay.

"Pierce..." she says softly. "I love you."

"If...your sure your alright. I'll get him dressed and go see." If not, he'd just put Dagger to bed. It can't be so terrible that she'd fight with him about something right? Because that's the only thing that'll wake that child is shouting. "I love you too, Ylva." She knows that by now, how much he tells her.

When he hung up, he told Dagger that it was important to get dressed, he'd get a longer bath tomorrow. Dagger complied on the note that he got to go upstairs and play.

----

Silas nodded his agreement at being silent but his mouth had gone dry. Could he have missed Pierce while dead? If not, a years worth of missing him must have been created in just his short time being alive again.

Yes. She knows that he loves her. For her though, there is no such thing as hearing it too much. Not from him anyway.

She turned to Silas after hanging up the phone. Her stomach felt like it had butterflies flying around in it. But not in a good way. The tickle in her throat had grown while she had been talking on the phone. She's nervous. Scared. Aprehensive.

"I think I'm going to be sick..." she says suddenly. She's looking a little green in the face so it must be true. All she's had today is a glass of orange juice.

Silas seemed almost disappointed when she hung up the phone and continued to stare at it until she mentioned being sick. He frowned. That would not be good on Lynn's nice carpet. He touched her elbow. "Do you need a bathroom?" He was already taking steps towards the nearest of the two.

She nodded and moved to follow as he had already begun to move towards the nearest bathroom. As she realized that it was a bathroom he was moving towards, she darted past him and headed right to the toilet without even turning on the light. And then...

She heaved. Orange juice. It was not pleasant. In the least. And it burned coming back up. She sat there, in front of the toilet, for a few moments after losing it. Then she got up and moved to the sink to splash some cold water on her face.

Then the coughing began. After having thrown up, she wasn't able to just swallow back the coughing fit like she'd been doing since sitting outside of the burning building. She coughed for several minutes straight before it finally stopped. Her eyes were watering from it. She's ended up having to splash some more cold water on her face.

She finally emerged from the bathroom not looking all that great. "Let's do this," she said meekly. She wants to get it done already. She can't bear this burden any longer. It's taking a toll on her now... now that she's going to actually be talking to Pierce about it.

He'd taken two long stides and followed her into the bathroom, gathered her ponytail for her so that it wouldn't hang into the toilet or the sink. He held it back from her body when she splashed her face, began to rub her back but not patting it when she started coughing. And he did so paitently.

When she walked back out he reached over and flushed the toilet and the followed her out. The smell had burned his nose but Silas had rough gag reflexes. He had to. After waking up after a full moon to find yourself sleeping on top of a half devoured corpse, one learns to not easily gag.

Now he was almost eager to get to Pierce as well. Now he knows he won't die. Now that he's smelled his smell, heard his voice. "Alright."

She appreciated him doing what he'd done while she was being sick and such. She hopes he knows that without her having to say so. She's got a lot on her mind now at this point. A lot indeed. The weight on her shoulders feels as though it's increased ten fold. Might as well stick a brick building upon her shoulders and be done with it.

She leaves the house and goes right to the car while he locks up. She waits to turn it on until he gets in as well. Then she drives towards home. It's her sense of direction that's leading her right now. Well, the beasts sense of direction. The humans mind is racing far too much to be able to think terribly clearly.

"Remember," she says as she parks half a block away from the building. "I'll flash the curtains open and closed when it's time for you to come up. Be watching." She gets out of the car and heads into the building.

A hesitant pause happens at the door before she finally turns the knob to go in. She'd taken a deep breath and let it out slowly before opening that door. She's a wreck inside at the moment. And her beast feels it. It's not pretty.

"Pierce?" she calls out softly. "Was Dag able to stay upstairs?" She sounds almost pathetic. Obviously something is bothering her. And she feels like she wants to vomit again. But doesn't. There's nothing left to vomit.

Silas nodded slightly, sniffed again before he even got out of the car and walked by her side to the building, then crossed the street to stand on the sidewalk, pushing his hands into his pockets. His heart was racing and his mind felt numb. His wolf didn't want out, he was enjoying this far too much, watching Silas squirm with dread and anticipation on the inside.

----

Pierce had been sitting on the sofa. He had indeed left Dagger upstairs. The woman ran an at home day care service during the day so she never really minded haveing Dagger in the evenings like this. Dagger was 'the quiet one' who she didn't mind because he was so cute and so very 'quiet'. She didn't know sign language but her and Dagger and her boys managed.

"Yes," he got up and walked to the door. When he noticed she was pale, he paused, then moved towards her again, pressed a hand to her cheek. "Are you alright, Ylva, what happened?"

You know the first thing that comes to mind? Oh dear god, somethings reminded her of what happened and here we did that just this morning. I'm such a freakin idiot!

Pierce looked exactly as he had when he'd gotten out of the shower. Mohawk and Piercings.

Her mind was too distracted to notice that he'd just been sitting on the couch. She looked startled a little bit when he spoke even though she'd been expecting an answer to her calling out for him. One of her hands lifted and pressed his hand against her cheek closer. Then she let go and wrapped her arms around him.

"I'm okay." As okay as she can be at the moment. Her voice was hushed. No worries Pierce. It's not about what the two of you did this morning. Quite far from it. After a few moments of just standing there, hugging him close, she pulled away slightly.

"We should sit down," she said softly. "We need to talk. It's about..."

Pause. Hesitation is more like it.

"The man who did those things for you this morning..."

Another pause.

"The real man..."

Yet one more pause...

"Silas..."

He put his arms around her, loosened them when she pulled away. If she was pressing into him, it couldn't be that. Right? It couldn't be something he did wrong. Unless it had brought memories and he was her only consolation anyways. He tried not to frown. Sit? Oh this couldn't be good at all.

He started towards the sofa, leading her along with him.

The man who did those things for you this morning...

He closed his eyes, lowered himself to the couch, holding her to him so she came down with him.

"Ylva, don't. I really...I just don't want to talk about that right now. It's not that important really. it's not been bothering me," he reassured her.

Silas

Frown.

"What about Silas?"

She moved towards the couch with him and sat beside him. She kept ahold of one of his hands. It was comforting. To be touching him. She looks weary though. Like she's sporting the weight of the world on her shoulders. In a sense, she kind of is. She is really not happy in the least that she must bear this burden and such alone.

"Yes," she says softly. "It is important. More important than you're realizing. Or that you're letting on. And I know that it's been bothering you. I can feel it. I could see it on your face when you came home this morning."

She paused.

And took a deep breath. Letting it out slowly. She's got that sick feeling again but is ignoring it. She can't let herself be distracted from this. She needs to do this. Get it off her shoulders. Get it out in the open. Damn it Silas. Why did she have to run into you that morning two weeks and three days ago?

"Please," she says softly. "Listen to what I have to say with an open mind. I know that it's going to be hard to believe and sound so far fetched. But please," she begs. "Listen to what I'm saying with an open mind and don't shut me out the moment I start saying what I need to say." Yes. She's begging. Literally. She sounds tired. Feels tired.

She pauses again and glances towards the closed curtains. Just as she knew they would be.

"He's not dead."

Silence.

He stared at her when she spoke about listening, keeping an open mind. She sounded so very serioous that it made something tighten in his stomach. Had something happened? Was it her wolf? It's the only thing he can think of that she'd be so very serious about.

And then...

"He's not dead."

What was this? A game? He frowned deeply, his eyes seemed to shift slowly, not in the sense of his being a shapeshifter but rather they shifted their emotion. His eyes grew gaurded and hardened just a little bit and he pushed himself up off of the sofa, walking across the living room, then into the kitchen and opening the refridgeratior, trying to look unphased.

He felt a sense of weariness creeping in to meet the anxiousness he'd been feeling all day, to cover up the fear of what might be so serious to her. Anger just a little taste of anger and cold feel into his stomach, like a rock dropping into the bottom of it.

"I don't have time for games, Ylva." He pulled out a can of soda, popped the top, closed the fridge door, but he didn't take a drink. His voice sounded gaurded, tired. Not angry, not sad, though he was both.

She sighed softly and let her head fall forward slightly. Her chin almost touching her chest. This was not how this was supposed to go. But how had she thought it would go? Did she really expect to have dropped something like that on Pierce and have him welcome the thought with open arms after Silas had been dead for over a year? Get real.

"I'm not playing games, Pierce," she says quietly. Almost sounding defeated already. "I wouldn't play games about something like that. To do so is just sick."

Don't you trust her Pierce? Has she ever lied to you before? Think about it.

"It's who I met with tonight."

She paused and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

"Do you remember the night that 'she' got out before you had come to lock us in the basement?" she asked him. "I met him the following morning. Crouched in front of the grave marker. I didn't come home right away because I was confused. He made me promise not to tell you. We agreed to meet again after a couple of weeks. And we did. Met a couple weeks later. He asked me to still not tell you yet because he had to find some things out. I gave him two more days. We met tonight. He's really alive."

Silence.

Yes he trusts her. But all the trust in the world wouldn't make something so very hard to accept any easier to accept. Something so close to his heart and so very near impossible to even happen.

"Someones fucking with you," he replied calmly. But his mind and heart were racing feircly. Why would someone do that? Why would someone impersonate Silas after he's been dead for an entire year? Were they trying to get his company, the appartment complexes? Is that what they wanted? Pierce might just be willing to give it to them to make them go away if they kept it up for too long.

He was slowly looseing his face though, and he was scowling now, a soft pop emited from the can where he was holding it just tight enough to put a dent in the thin aluminum.

"Two weeks? Why didn't you tell me? Someones fucking with our head, Ylva. They could have taken you away just like that!" He sounded more worried then calm now. A taste of anger was becoming a larger bite. Someone was hurting him. not trying too. It was hurting.

---

Silas had stood stone still for several minutes, but now he'd taken to pacing, stalking back and forth across the side walk so very much like the wolf that he was.

She shook her head slightly. Her ponytail bouncing slightly against her back as she does so. When she lifts her head, her mismatched eyes are so sad looking. This is so much harder than she'd hoped for it to be. You know that weight on her shoulders? It's feeling heavier. Very much heavier. With each passing moment.

"No, love," she says quietly. "No one is messing with me." Slowly she got up from the couch and moved to the shelf where Pierce keeps his books. She reaches for one book in particular and sets it down on the coffee table. She opens it to the back where the authors face is. And points to it. "Silas." she says in an almost whisper. "That's who I have been talking to."

She pauses again and thinks. What can she say to get him to know she's not pulling this stuff out of her butt? Think Ylva.

She sits back down on the couch. Staring at the book still. An idea comes to mind. "Have you noticed how I don't call 'her' an 'it' anymore?"

"There are people that look like him," he comented quietly, reaching out to push the book down to that he wasn't looking at the picture anymore. His hand shook because he knew that there was hardly anyone anywhere with Silas' white hair, his intesne blue eyes. No one could perfectly imitate his deceased friend. When his hand shook, several drops of the soda spilled onto his hand. He put the can down and wiped the back of his hand on his shirt.

"Yes, I noticed last night," he replied, glad for the topic change. "I assume you're makeing some progress in learning to cope with her."

"No Pierce," she says softly. "This isn't just a person that looks like him. This is him. And he's been giving me advice on how to cope with 'her'."

She paused and sighed. Ylva put her elbows on her knees and then her forehead in her hands.

"What can I say to you to prove to you that what I'm saying to you is true?"

"You can't," he replied. He moved towards her, stopped short of her. "You can't say anything. I saw him, Ylva. I saw him there." He was disappointed that the topic change hadn't actually been a topic change. "I saw the pictures. I saw him in the coffin and watched that coffin get put in the ground. I visit his grave, Ylva, he's...he's been gone. For a year."

He collapsed backwards onto the sofa, rubbed his temples. "It's not possible. I can't have him back just like that."