Liz

The front door slams behind us with such force that I nearly drop Jasdero. Kidd throws his coat to the floor and strides around all the downstairs rooms, yanking curtains closed.

I kneel next to Jasdero on the floor and stroke his forehead, staring at Kidd as he whooshes past, face set in a grim, determined frown.

"Any chance you're gonna tell us what any of this is about?"

"Yes. In a minute," he says shortly, closing his eyes and massaging his temples for a second. "Just…lock the front door, will you?"

Patty obediently gets up and turns the locks. She's unusually quiet; I think Kidd's slightly frightening her.

He's frightening me.

I stare downwards at Jasdero, and he stares back up at me, eyes glassy and unseeing. I can see beads of sweat forming on his forehead and top lip, and gently wipe them away. "You okay, Jasdero?"

"Urrrrrr…" he groans in reply.

"What's wrong with him?" cries Patty, flinging herself down beside me. She snatches up Jasdero's right hand and grips it tight. "Is he sick?"

"Mmm..not – not sick!" insists Jasdero again, struggling to sit up. "I'm – I'm just – "

"Come on, Patty." I get to my feet, trying to be methodical and practical. Like Kidd. "Let's get him on the couch. Help me carry him…"

Kidd stands anxiously to one side as we struggle past with Jasdero, biting his thumbnails. It's an out-of-character habit, what with him being so OCD and obsessed with cleanliness, but one he's picked up recently. And of course, he has to bite the nails on both hands.

"Er, hey, Kidd?"

"Oh – yeah, sorry." He jumps out of his reverie and moves to open the living room door for us.

As soon as Jasdero is comfortably settled on the couch with Patty sponging his forehead, I wheel around to confront Kidd.

"So."

He looks apprehensive. "What?"

"What's going on at Shibusen? Why are you so upset?"

"I – " He opens his mouth to speak, and then stares over my shoulder at Jasdero, who's started whimpering feebly.

"Let's go to the kitchen."

I follow Kidd into the kitchen and watch as he slowly shrugs off his Shinigami cloak. I used to hate that thing, hate how it hid him from view and how much he looked like his father in it, but I think it's sort of grown on me. When he takes the mask and hood off, and just has the black material swirling around his shoulders all dramatic, it's kind of – nice.

Kidd folds it up and places it carefully on the table. "We're going to have to keep Jasdero indoors for a while."

"Yeah, I know," I agree. "I don't know what's wrong with him, but he needs rest. Do you think – "

"No, Liz, I'm not talking about that," he says seriously. "I know he's ill but…look, you know how Father was so undecided about what to do with David?"

"Yeah…"

"And you know how you were trying to convince them that David was…good?"

I hang my head. "Yeah," I say guiltily.

"Um, yeah, that's not going to happen."

Something in the way he says it makes me look up again. "What do you mean?"

"David's…I don't know, he must have hurt someone or something. When I went in to find Father, all the staff was in chaos; Spirit was looking for Father too, he was furious, he wanted David out of Shibusen entirely, and the medical bay was in uproar, and – and…I don't know, but it's bad."

"Do you think he got out?"

Kidd looks at me shrewdly. "Do you?"

I think about that. On the one hand, yes, yes I think David is perfectly capable of breaking himself out given the right opportunity. But on the other, if he'd gotten out I'm pretty sure all of Death City would know by now.

"No. But I think he's probably done something stupid. Oh god, what an idiot…I told him to stay put and stay quiet!"

"Oh, that reminds me," says Kidd grimly. "Now that David's got himself into this nice mess, they're on the hunt for Jasdero too."

"Oh, fuck."

"Liz, please."

"Sorry…"

"And people have seen him around Death City."

I frown. "But – we haven't let him out! We didn't even let him in the garden."

Kidd shrugs. "Well he had been wandering around by himself for a few days before he found us, someone was bound to notice him."

"But – what are we going to do?" I demand, wringing my hands in desperation. "We have to get David back somehow. And we can't just hide Jasdero here forever."

"I know, but let's just – "

Kidd is cut off by a scream from the living room.

"Liz!"

Kidd

Liz and I practically throw ourselves through the living room door, narrowly avoiding landing in an untidy heap on the floor.

"Patty!" cries Liz, struggling forwards. "What's wrong, are you okay?"

Patty is kneeling beside the sofa, panic and distress etched all over her usually gleeful features. She's blubbering incomprehensively.

I crouch down beside her and take her hands, gently hushing her. "Patty…please calm down. It's okay, Liz and I are here."

Liz cuddles her sister close. "What's happened?"

From beneath Liz, Patty extracts an arm and reaches out to grab at Jasdero's dangling hand again. "He's sick!" she says thickly through Liz's jumper.

"I know, sweetie, but – "

Patty interrupts her with a tirade of hysterical words. "And I was just sittin' here with him and holding his hand and making him feel better and he wouldn't stop crying at first and I couldn't help him and then he started coughing and it was really bad and now he's gone wrong and – what do I do?"

Liz and I sit up in unison to get a proper look at Jasdero.

I rub my eyes a few times.

When I first met Jasdero, the first thing that struck me was his skin tone. It was just so bizarre, not only the way it clashed with his pale blonde hair, but the way it was so grey it was almost ashen. It wasn't a normal dark skin colour, not a deep rich brown or a soft chestnutty colour, it was grey. Liz had assured me it was just something you got used to, and not to worry too much about it.

But the hand Patty is clutching is a startling milky white.

I stand over the sofa. "What – "

Of course, I've seen people get paler when they're ill, it happens to Liz a lot when she's feeling nauseated. She goes a shade lighter, as does Patty when she hasn't gotten a good night's sleep.

Jasdero's gone from the colour of wet concrete to completely caucasian. That's not normal.

"What the hell?" gasps Liz, standing up. "Is he – I mean…what's happened?"

"I don't knoooooww!" wails Patty, clawing at Liz's leg. "Is he dying? Is he going to be okay?"

Carefully, Liz sits beside Jasdero on the sofa and lays her hand on his forehead with great care. I watch as her beautifully symmetrical eyebrows crease into a concerned frown. "He still feels kind of warm…"

"He's burning up, look," I say, indicating Jasdero's flushed cheeks. I take the damp towel off Patty and lay it over his forehead once more.

"But that doesn't explain…this," frets Liz.

We both fall silent and stare down at this – stranger lying on our sofa.

For once, Jasdero looks almost completely normal. His new skin colour fits perfectly with his golden hair, and with his flushed cheeks and white-gold eyelashes he looks incredibly vulnerable. The awful stitches are still there though, criss-crossing his lips in that grotesque zigzag pattern.

"Jasdero?" Liz asks gently, shaking his shoulders. As she grips them, I can see her wrists trembling. Liz is just as terrified as Patty, and she's holding it down to protect her sister.

My stomach squirms uncomfortably, but I continue holding Patty close, comforting her. Liz is strong, and brave, and I suddenly feel ridiculously proud of her.

"Is he waking up?" whines Patty, gripping my sleeves.

"I don't know…Jasdero!" Liz shakes him just a little harder. "It's Liz…can you hear me?"

"Mmmmhhhh," says Jasdero, in a voice that's barely a whisper.

"Jasdero!" Gently, Liz pulls him up into a sitting position. His head lolls onto his chest. "Wake up!"

Slowly, improbably, he stirs. One hand twitches slightly and then he raises it sleepily to rub his eye, as though he were merely waking from a good night's sleep.

He gazes blearily at us all through heavy-lidded eyes – blue eyes, pale, greyish-blue. Not yellow.

For a moment, he's silent, whether from exhaustion or confusion, I can't tell. Then he blinks a couple of times and shifts into a more comfortable sitting position.

"Wh-what happened?"

I don't know why, but it's bizarre to hear Jasdero's voice coming out of that mouth. He just looks so different. A new person.

"We're back – back home, Jasdero," says Liz in a stilted voice. "Everything's going to be okay."

"Where's David?"

"He's – "

"Is he in trouble?"

Liz looks helplessly at me. I move to kneel beside her, looking Jasdero right in the eyes. It's much easier now, for some reason. Maybe it's because he seems to be blinking more like a normal person. Maybe it's his almost angelic features – the rosy lips and cheeks, the pale eyelashes, the blue eyes – or maybe I'm just getting used to him.

He shifts his attention to me. "Where's David?"

"He's…um, well…well, you can't see him at the moment, Jasdero."

"Where is he?"

"He's still at Shibusen."

"Can I see him?"

"Um, no, Jasdero, I just said – "

"But you promised," he interrupts, looking despondent. "I want to see David!"

"You're unwell, Jasdero," says Liz firmly. "You need rest and sleep!"

"I'm not sick!" he cries. "I'm – I'm – " As he speaks, his gaze travels downwards and alights on his own hands folded in his lap.

His bottom lip trembles.

"Noooo…" Slowly, quietly, he begins to sob, and curls up into a little ball, huddled into the furthest corner of the couch. "Noooooo…"

"…Jasdero?" Liz tentatively reaches out, but Patty gets there first.

"Don't cry, Jas!" She throws herself down next to him and attempts to pull him into an embrace. "We'll get you better and then Liz and Kidd can take you back to see – "

To everyone's surprise and shock, especially Patty's, Jasdero wriggles out of her grasp, throwing her arms away, and leaps over the back of the couch to dash out of the room and out of sight.

Patty sits where she is for a moment, looking stunned, as though she couldn't comprehend what had just happened.

"Oh, Patty," says Liz sadly. She sits down next to her sister, and rubs her shoulder consolingly. "He's just upset about David, that's all. It'll be okay."

Without a word, Patty scrambles off the couch and runs after Jasdero.

I sit down heavily next to Liz. This is all getting too much for me.

After a pause, she puts an arm around my shoulders. Her weight is warm, and comforting. "Don't worry. Let them sort themselves out."

"Do you really think that's wise?"

"If anyone can get through to Jasdero, it'll be Patty."

Jasdero

I find myself standing in the kitchen, the big, white kitchen, the kitchen where it all started, where I scared Liz so badly.

The table is standing in the middle of the room. I dive underneath it and hug my knees to my chest, closing my eyes.

I can't go and find David now, I can't, not like this, I don't want to, and it hurts.

I don't want to find David, and it hurts.

Not like this.

I open my eyes for the tiniest of seconds and my hands are pale and white. I clench them shut and hide my face in my stupid stupid pale knees.

I can't remember the last time I took my mask off.

Road does it all the time but it's okay for her, it's okay because she's pretty and small and everyone likes her and she's a Noah through and through anyway so she doesn't have to worry about anything.

Not like the rest of us. We're – we…we were human. Are? Is?

I pull my hair – my blonde, blonde hair. It's the only bit of me I ever liked and it's the only bit that I can keep for always, it's always mine, it's always me. Dero's golden locks.

Not like my stupid stupid nasty skin. With its horrible white hairs and the way it goes sore and pink in the sunlight and I get freckles on my nose and it's so ugly.

I'm scared.

I'm really scared.

I want my mask back on.

But I don't know how, because I never needed to learn how, and it's hard, it's really hard for me to switch back and forth. I've never found what Tyki always called the 'balance'.

"J-Jasdero?"

I lift my head. I can see a pair of dark boots and soft, pink legs.

"I know you're under the table."

"Go away."

I put a hand over my mouth as soon as I say this because somehow, it doesn't sound like me. It sounded almost like – like David.

I swallow, and try again. "Please, Patty, go away."

She walks closer. "No."

Before I have time to do anything, she's there, right in front of me, crouching down and staring right into my horrible ugly face.

It hurts, because I look at her, and she's so – so pretty, and so nice, and she's so happy and comfortable in her own pale pink skin, and I'm – I'm not.

I don't even know if this is my skin any more.

I hide my face in my arms. "Don't look at me."

"Are you crying?"

I don't answer.

"Can I hug you?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm gross. And ugly." I clench my fists. "And you're not."

When Patty next speaks, she sounds upset, and it makes my tummy wriggle uncomfortably. "You're not gross and ugly, Jas."

"Yes, I am."

"You let me hug you before."

"That was different." Because it was. Because I was a Noah, I was strong, I was brave, I was more than human, and I could do anything, even (well, almost) talk to a girl.

Without David, my mask's gone and now I'm just what I was before, I'm Jasdero. I'm small and sick and skinny and useless.

There's a movement, and when I raise my head, Patty's sitting in front of me, cross-legged. She stares at me, not smiling, and her eyes are the blue of a summer sky, not like mine, not like my grey unhappy blue eyes that are like the blue of a horrible rainy day.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm sitting under the table with you."

"Why?"

"Why are you under the table?"

"Because I'm gross."

"Then I'm gross too."

But you're not, Patty, you're not, you're blonde and pretty, you're really pretty, and you're really nice and you have this laugh, the happiest laugh, and the best smile and sometimes I wish I was the one to hug you, because you're always the one hugging first because you're just like that, and – and I wish I was brave enough to tell you all this but of course I'm not.

"You're not gross," I mumble. I turn away from her.

"Neither are you, Jas."

"Yeah, I am. I'm tiny and scrawny and weak and ugly and stupid and I can't even look after myself or my own brother and the Earl's gonna be so mad…" And I start crying because it's too much, too much for me to think about because my head's not big enough. And then I realise I'm crying so I start crying more because I'm so pathetic and all I can do is cry.

Patty shuffles closer. I lift my head and stare right at her through my tears but I can't stop them from coming, and I think about David, and how he's probably alone or dead and I can't do nothing but cry –

She leans over and there's a moment, a blur, a brush of short blonde hair and her warmth and a funny tingling everywhere, and she kisses my nose, and then sits back again.

I'm so surprised I stop crying immediately.

No one's ever made me stop crying before. Except David.

"…Wh-why did you – "

"Your nose was red."

"Why – "

"It's cute."

I stare at her some more, and my hands are trembling and I feel sick again…

She tilts her head to one side and there's a long, long silence. Am I supposed to say something? What do I do?

Her eyes are moving over me, and I suddenly feel awful again and I can't bear her looking at me like that, I want to curl up so small that no one ever finds me again and so I hide myself in my arms.

"Don't look at me!"

When I next look up, she's gone, and the kitchen door is closed.

My hands are still shaking.

I wish I'd been brave enough to ask for her help.

I need it.

[phew! sorry for the hiatus guys, I've been darn busy recently. This chapter was a bit of a struggle too since it's mainly just trying to explain stuff, but I also wanted to move Patty and Jasdero's relationship along a little bit - make it more interesting and stuff. It was a challenge because I'm trying to write Jasdero's 'white' form or whatever it's called a little differently. I don't know if it's come across very well, and I'm working on it. Anyway...enjoy!]