Author's Notes: This story was the intro fiction I wrote for an Orpheus game my husband ran several years ago, featuring my third character in the game (two others were taken out of commission to various circumstances). The purpose of this story is mostly to explain how my character went from "just another person" to the playable character I was running.

Enjoy!

Freyja sighed and wearily sank to her knees beside the tub, pulling her matted ponytail free with one hand while fiddling with the faucet with the other. It had been a very long day at work, busy, with a soul-sapping sting set up and executed. She relished the idea of a relaxing bath now before heading back to the children's hospital for her near-nightly vigil at Nellie's bedside. A nightly vigil that, now, could go for a good week. She'd gotten time off from work.

She could hear Dan puttering around in the kitchen, banging pots and pans around and swearing at himself. There was a good reason she'd avoided him as soon as she stepped in the door. He was always so…rough…when he was off his medication. She just hoped he'd get over it soon enough and calm down, and become a civil person to speak to again. Just like last time.

As the tub filled with steaming water, Freyja shucked her nondescript T-shirt and jeans—this time of year was far too warm for her favorite turtleneck—and underwear, wrapping in her faded bathrobe. She sat on the edge of the tub and waited for the bathwater to reach a reasonable level, then twisted the knobs to the "off" position, hung the robe up, and slipped into the water.

The banging and swearing from the kitchen trailed off as Dan found some other part of the apartment to grouse in, fiddling with his radios or his computer or something similar. Probably throwing no few of Freyja's less breakable things into a corner somewhere. He always did. She wished he'd calm down quickly now; he'd certainly seemed to be manic long enough.

She took a breath and ducked under the water, her knees sticking out into the chilly air of the bathroom. She let her hair soak for a while, staring up at the ceiling as it rippled and distorted through the water, before sitting up to shampoo.

Dan stood in the doorway.

She jerked in surprise and reflexively covered up with an arm, letting out a ragged breath when she realized it was him. "You scared me, Dan. I didn't hear you come in."

"I know," he muttered, and walked toward her.

"Are you all right? I heard you banging around in the kitchen…."

"I'm fine. I…." He fidgeted, fumbling with the edge of his T-shirt. "Have you seen Nellie yet today?"

"No, I…I thought you'd be at the hospital. I had to work, remember? That drug bust?"

"Oh, yeah. I…right. Huh." More fidgeting.

"Look, You can head over to the hospital without me. I'll be there as soon as I finish getting cleaned up."

He nodded absently, looking around nervously. His demeanor unnerved Freyja, who leaned back a bit in the tub. "Are you sure you're all right, Dan? Maybe you should go nap or something, take your medicine maybe…."

"I'm fine!" The sudden explosion startled Freyja, who pushed back against the wall behind the tub. "I…I'm sorry, Freyja, I…."

"Dan, please. Just…go to bed. I'll watch Nellie tonight, I promise."

"I'm sorry…I really…really am…."

"Dan…?"

"Really. Sorry." He lashed out with both hands.

She had no time to react, no time at all. Her strength was sapped, her reserves drained, every reflex she'd trained in the force weakened by the long and tiring day. His hands were around her throat before she could stop him, squeezing, choking, wringing the breath from her. She tried to plead with him; could only manage a rasping gasp.

And then he slammed her under the water, pinning her to the bottom of the tub as she clawed at his hands with numbing fingers. Thumbs pressed against her windpipe, forcing her to try to gag for breath. Forcing her lungs to reach for air, filling them up with water.

So much water.

Memories of her childhood, memories of a visit to the pool. So small, she was so small. Toddling around Mama's legs, waving to Astrid and Mikkel as they took turns on the diving board. Stumbling, falling in and screaming, choking on chlorine and water.

She gasped and gagged, trying to push up, trying to reach the cold air again. Arms slipped and scrabbled on the tub's slick bottom. Strength fled beneath the manic, frenzied fury that held her down.

So much water.

She lurched out of the tub with a strangled gasp, sitting in the chilled water and dry-retching for endless minutes before the ability to breathe returned. She rubbed frosty hands against her face and shivered, stumbling out onto the tiled floor. The bath mat was so damp, nearly soaked, sitting in a puddle of cold water. She stumbled toward the mirror in the dark.

Why so dark?

Dan must've turned off the light when he left.

Left. Why did he leave?

Why did he do that?

Must've been a nightmare. Falling asleep in the tub.

Freyja shivered and reached for the towels, for her clothes. Blanked out.

Came to moments later, staring at herself in the mirror. Hair matted and tangled, dripping icy water to the floor. Soaking her clothes, her turtleneck and jeans, her sneakers. Her turtleneck….

It was too warm for a turtleneck, wasn't it?

Must've put it on because she was cold. Yeah, that's it.

Her face looked so hollow in the mirror, sunken, like a drowning sailor, gagging. Bruises on her neck. Those were bruises, right? Those darker shadows like handprints in the dark?

She fumbled for the light.

Nothing.

Dan probably hit a breaker or something. Yeah. He did that every now and then, when he was in his manic phases.

She rubbed at her face in the mirror, willing herself to look better, to warm up. Just a nightmare.

When she removed her hands, she looked better. Dry now. She must have imagined being soaked. Her hair looked better, neater. She put it up in a ponytail. Her face was fuller now, those shadows she thought to be bruises gone. Just imaginings.

But still cold. So cold.

She'd have to turn the heat on, or wrap up in a blanket.

She stumbled out of the bathroom, blanking out once or twice more on her way to the hallway and the breaker closet. So dizzy. She shouldn't fall asleep in the tub; it made her groggy.

The breaker closet was still padlocked from the last time Dan had pulled a stunt like this, turning off the electricity. Freyja hadn't wrangled the key from him yet, and cursed when she realized she couldn't turn the lights on.

And he wasn't home. Probably gone to watch over Nellie, or to drink at the bar.

The phone rang.

Freyja couldn't find the cordless handset, couldn't find where the ringing was originating from. The pager button wasn't working.

The answering machine kicked in.

Hi, you've reached the Gallaghers: Daniel, Freyja, and Nellie. We can't answer the phone at the moment. Please leave your name after the beep and we'll get back to you when we can. Nellie's voice, so innocent. Only seven, reading the machine message for Daddy.

Nellie.

Freyja swore at herself for being late and rushed out of the apartment.

None of the taxis noticed her; the bus drivers behaved as though she didn't exist. She swore at them roundly before taking off at a jog for the hospital. At this rate, it'd be another hour before she got there. A few street druggies stared after her as she jogged; she pointedly ignored them.

After what seemed like too long, the hospital loomed before her, brightly lit despite the late hour. Regular visiting hours were over. One or two lights were already turning off.

Compounding her frustrations for the night, the automatic door sensor didn't seem to want to recognize her presence, and she stood shouting at the door and waving for a good fifteen minutes before someone came up to open the door. As soon as she was inside, she rushed for the elevator.

Time seemed to blur, and the next thing she knew, she stood outside Nellie's open door. Dan wasn't in there; most likely at a bar somewhere then. All the better, if he was off his medication, not to bother Nellie tonight. Freyja walked in slowly.

Nellie lay quietly against the hospital sheets, eyes closed, IV running to one bare arm. Freyja's heart about stopped at the sight of her daughter; it always did. So young, just five weeks away from turning nine, and struggling so hard against Leukemia. Freyja wiped away a tear. "My little girl."

Nellie's eyes opened weakly, and she smiled up at Freyja. "Hi Mommy."

Freyja paced the length of the room. Three or four days in the hospital, and she was starting to suspect something was up. Three or four days, sleeping intermittently—or so she thought—not eating and yet not getting hungry. Or tired. Or anything else that would constitute "normal." Nellie spent most of the time napping, talking to Freyja a bit when she did wake or eating when the nurses prompted her to. Freyja didn't touch her after that first night; Nellie said she was cold.

And those nurses…always ignoring Freyja when they came into the room, talking to Nellie as though Freyja wasn't there. Smiling patronizingly at the little girl and murmuring to each other just out of earshot.

Freyja wouldn't have it. She needed to ask them if they'd heard from Dan—she was starting to worry—or how Nellie was doing, and they were ignoring her!

She stalked out into the hallway after making sure Nellie slept peacefully, and found one of the doctors at the end of the corridor talking to a nurse. Freyja fumed toward them.

"Doctor!" she shouted at the bearded man. "Doctor, I demand an explanation! Why are the nurses ignoring me? Why are—" The doctor ignored her too. She waved a hand in front of his face, and got nothing; he continued his conversation with the nurse. The nurse, too, ignored her.

Freyja's stomach sank. She hurried toward the nearest nurse's station, and received similar responses. Two more doctors down the hall ignored her as well.

The world seemed to spin around Freyja; she hit the wall. No. Couldn't be.

Ripples like water before her eyes, everything growing grey.

Couldn't be.

She rushed back to the nurse's station.

"…Poor dear," one of them was saying. "Talks about her mother whenever I take her dinner."

Another nodded. "I don't have the heart to tell her, either. Little Nellie's such an angel it would break her heart to find out."

"Find out what?" Freyja demanded.

"Find out what?" a younger nurse echoed.

"You didn't hear?" The first nurse shook her head sadly. "Her father drowned her mother Friday night. Called the police on himself, too. The cops found him sitting on the steps to the building, rocking and crying and all."

"Insanity, they said. He got sent to the mental hospital. They found her body in the bathtub."

"That's not true!" Freyja screamed. No one noticed. "Not true. Not…true…."

She looked at her hands. They looked fine. Normal hands. But…now that she really looked…too bright, against the rest of the world. Too real.

She ran.

She found herself in the restroom, leaning against the tiled wall, the world still spinning. Still grey. She looked over at the mirror. Should see herself, just like that night. Not true. Not dead. She was fine!

A monster looked back at her, twisted, disfigured. Shifting forms, dripping icy water, grinning evilly through a too-wide mouth. No….

Freyja screamed.

She sat beside Nellie's bed as night's shadows crept across the little girl's pale, tight face. She flexed one hand, practicing. Shaping. Reforming. Putting it back to normal.

She'd stopped wondering. Stopped questioning herself as to why she no longer felt hunger, thirst, fatigue…. It made sense now, the dark and empty apartment, the rapid disappearance of the bruises and water. Dan's disappearance….

It made far too much sense.

More sense than her icy aura, her twisted reflection.

More sense than why she still remained in this world. Why she hadn't passed on to Heaven or Valhalla or whatever Nana Nelke called it.

But then, maybe Nellie was the reason. Somehow. Still so sick, and now her father was in the asylum and not likely to get out any time soon. And at least Nellie could still see Freyja, on the brink of death as she was. There were still small miracles in this world.

She reached out and brushed her fingers gently against Nellie's cheek, pulling back when the little girl shivered. "I'll protect you always, little Nelke." She glanced out the window at the gathering darkness.

"I promise."