Mag felt someone take her hand. She felt herself being raised to her feet and heard a voice ask, "Can I have your autograph?" She turned to see who the person was. It was a Repo Man. She screamed, knowing she couldn't put up much of a fight. She had fought too hard with Graverobber and now felt very weak. She almost wanted to be put out of her misery.

The Repo Man was quick to shove a knife into her stomach and pushed her to the ground. That had been easier than he'd thought. It was almost disappointing.

Mag lay on the gorund, trying to breathe as the Repo Man crouched next to her. She could feel the blood leaving her body. She was dying, she could feel it. She could also feel Marni reaching out to her, calling her, wanting to be reunited. Mag wanted it, too. Curiosity is what made her cling on to her fading life. She heard approaching footsteps. Then she saw the Repo Man fall to the ground.

Graverobber had kicked him on the head. He knew he wouldn't stay down for long. He looked at Mag and his heart could have shattered. "Don't leave me," he begged. Seeing that she was dying gave him strength to fight.

"C-C-Careful." It was obvious Mag didn't have much strength left to talk. She was trying to warn him. "He - He's got a knife."

Graverobber wanted to stroke her cheek gently, to kiss her, tell her to save her strength, but he couldn't. The Repo Man was getting up. Thanks to Mag's tip, Graverobber saw the knife and slipped it out of the Repo Man's hand. It seemed her had the upper hand.

The Repo Man tackled Graverobber. Graverobber struggled underneath the weight. He was going to be tough to fight off. Could he do it in time? Of course he could. Mag was going to live. He would save her, just as he had from the rapist. He would make sure she got home and then he'd leave so he never harmed her again. He knew he'd been harming her the entire time now, and the guild added to his strength. He kicked and shoved at the Repo Man. He threw hard punches his way. "You'd better not kill the woman I love!" Then he remembered he still had the knife in his hand. He stabbed the Repo Man in the back and heaved him off of him. That would keep him down.

He made his way over to Mag. She was losing a lot of blood. As much as he hated to admit it, the chance of her living looked slim to none. He took her hand.

"I'm sorry," Mag croaked out. She was dying and she was apologizing. "I didn't mean what I said."

"Sh. I know." He was choking up. For the first time in a long time he thought he might actually cry. There was no mistaking she was worth his tears, thoguh. He squeezed her hand.

"Marni's calling me."

Marni. Her dead friend. "No, Mag. You will live!" He shrugged his jacket off and pressed it to Mag's wound, trying to staunch the flow. He caught Mag's eyes. They seemed to smile at him sadly. After all he'd done, he still saw love in her eyes.

Mag began to laugh weakly. Graverobber wondered how the hell she could be laughing. What was so funny? She weakly raised her hand into view. "Look. It healed." The irony was almost too bittersweet and agonizing to take.

The first actual tear trickled out Graverobber's eyes. It splashed onto their connected hands. He could feel her temperatire dropping, feel her weakening. He didn't want her to go.

"Don't c-cry over m-me." Mag weakly brushed her fingertips across his cheek, an attempt at comfort.

"Please, don't go." His voice was vulnerable, breakable. For the first time he showed weakness.

"I must go." For some reason, she'd sang it. Maybe for him to hear her beautiful singing voice one last time.

"Wait! Hold on just a minute longer." Her hand was already slipping from its grasp. Mag had to fight to curl her fingers around his hand for but a minute more. She was close to death, she couldn't stall much longer. She thought she could see Marni. "I know you said names don't matter a while back, but you should know mine - "

"Wait."

"What?" He wondered what was important enough for Mag to interrupt him in her dying state.

"Before you tell - kiss my goodbye." The request clenched at his heart. There was no hope of denying her death now. He swiped at his tears. He wanted to have clear vision while she left. He bent down and planted a gentle kiss. It was slow, loving, and passionate. He was careful not to let it go on too long. He didn't want it to use up the rest of what little enrgy she had left.

"My name is Terrance."

"Magdalene DeFoe." Her true name was uttered in her last breath.

Graverobber sobbed openly. The only woman he'd ever loved was dead. He let her cold hand slip from his grasp. He looked into her lifeless eyes, which honestly didn't look too different in death from how they'd looked in life. He didn't know whether to close her eyelids and let her rest in peace or carve the eyes out of their sockets and take them with him. Of course, without Mag, the eyes would serve no purpose. The eyes had been GeneCo's property. She had not.

He ended up simply closing her eyelids. He pressed his lips to her forehead. "I love you," he whispered. He abandoned his jacket. What good would it be to him, covered in Mag's blood?

As he stood, he couldn't help but think she merely looked asleep. The way she'd been when he'd slipped out of her arms and left her in the alley. He was attacked by another pang of guilt and instantly regretted each second he spent away from her.

He could have killed himself in anger for wondering how much Zydrate she had. He wouldn't allow himself to think like that. That was one body he would not disturb. Whatever Zydrate she held, it would remain hers forever.

Graverobber returned to his alley with nowhere else to go.

_ _

Amber headed to the usual alley. She couldn't wait to see the expression on Graverobber's face when she told him the news. It took serious strength for her not to skip through the alley and alert him of her presence (and excitement) early.

He'd spotted her anyway. "Amber, I'm out of Zydrate." His voice was sullen.

"That's not why I'm here, baby."

"I'm not in the mood, Amber."

"Well, what I'm about to tell you will get you in the mood. GeneCo lost its Voice. That has-been soprano is gone. Daddy washed our hands of her."

"I know, Amber."

"Then why aren't you celebrating? There's plenty to be happy about!"

Graverobber's voice took a sinister turn. "Amber, I suggest if you have any value for your life at all, that you leave my sight. If not I may very well kill you, with little temptation."

"What's wrong, baby?" Amber was oblivious. "Can't handle talk of a little death?"

"I am warning you!" Graverobber's voice rose. The seconds on Amber's life timeline were ticking away fast.

Amber walked up to him. She took his hand. "Come on. Take me! Give it to me, baby. Don't care where you put it. Why don't you surprise me?" She rubbed against him as she spoke.

He would surprise her, alright. He crashed an empty wine bottle he'd found in his dumpster bed against her head. She fell to the gorund. He used the shards as blades. He enjoyed slicing her skin open. He had been serious about killing her. It wasn't his fault she thought he'd been joking. "I'm not your baby," he muttered.

The blood rushing onto his hands was a glorious feeling. The silence was beautiful. If Amber had still been conscious, her screaming would have ruined the fun. Although he would have liked to completely dismember her body, he had to keep her in one piece. He savored every slow cut. He chekced Amber's pulse. Finding one still there, he constricted his hands around her throat. He strangled her until he felt the pulse die.

Amber Sweet was officially dead, good. By his own hand - even beter. The only thing left to do was hide the body. He knew exactly what he was going to do. He drug her out very carefully to the cemetary. He let her body lay in the grass as he dug at a fresh burial with his hands.

Once he'd unearthed the grave, he pushed Amber's body in. He carefully refilled the hole and made it appear to have been undisturbed. The only problem was he still literally had Amber's blood on his hands. It would have to be washed.

Graverobber dreaded the thought of returning to Mag's home, but in order to wash his hands of Amber's blood, it needed to be done. His feet drug along as he trudged back to her house. It took twice as long getting there because of it.

When he was inside he avoided looking at anything for too long to prevent stirring memories. He hurried himself to the bathroom. He frantically scrubbed at his hands, needing to be completely rid of Amber, especially in Mag's house. A part of him still couldn't believe she died, although he had witnessed it.

His hands free of blood, Graverobber dried them on a hand towel. He looked at his reflection in the mirror in front of him. Then something caught his attention in the corner of his eye. He looked down to the left.

There, on the edge of the sink, he saw the pregnancy stick. Glowing at him was a little red plus.