A/N: Had an essay last Monday, but hoping to make it up by posting twice this week! Hope you enjoy!

Tate and I skirted around each other for the next couple of days. We would brush against one another in passing, as if touches so subtle could be hidden even from ourselves. We had spoken, sprawled on my bedroom floor, of his father a lot – Hugo or Robert; a mystery Father X had also arisen from Tate's imagination but what's one more crazy theory amongst many? Our hands would flirt in the air around each other, never quite landing their flight but flitting so close that the contact was mirrored by a track of goose bumps.

I was in Jonah's room, smoothing a finger over his furiously red cheeks, hushing his whimpers when I felt Tate's presence behind me, like a magnetic field pulsing through my body. All my instincts screamed at me to lean back into him. I rocked back on my heels, catching myself on the crib before I could crash back into him, shaking my head to quell the animalistic urge. I had to think long term, and long term meant distance, a creeping pace that neither of us seemed capable of. Don't complicate things Violet, you're just getting him back. Not that I knew where I was reeling him back from. A painful thought shot through me: maybe I should have left him there, left him on the precipice of his evil. Maybe that was where he belonged. Maybe he just couldn't exist on the cliff, maybe he belonged in the pit.

But his gentle face as I turned around screamed against that judgment. He stared down at Jonah, a delicate look morphing to near awe as he shifted his gaze to mine. It was excruciating to step back. But I did. The space between us felt cavernous.

'Did you talk to the creepy nurses?' I said, clearing my throat of the tension in a cough. It rattled through me and I hunkered over, expelling the weight of the last few days in a fit of air. The concern on his face as I straightened, bringing my hand from my mouth, poured happiness through my veins. 'Calm down Tate. I'm already dead, remember?' I brought his hand to my chest without thinking, and instead of feeling the nothingness of death in my chest he felt my breath hitch and falter.

'Dead as stone.' He confirmed with a smile. I stepped out from under his touch and headed to my bedroom before he could feel my breath falter again. He followed wordlessly; throwing himself on my bed, feet hanging off the end like a rag doll. He scrubbed a hand across his face, coal eyes meeting mine with a pained expression. 'The nurses were completely useless. They said they couldn't even remember Constance living here, let alone anyone with her. Well actually the fat one didn't say anything. And the other looked so shifty, like I was about to stab her. So I just left. They're both cracked.'

'Tate.' I said to cut him off. 'They were brutally murdered and then stuck in the scene of their death for all eternity. Have a little compassion.' I didn't like him when we was this harsh. I didn't feel like I could temper his anger. And it scared me. I preferred him broken. I could fix him then. What an awful thing to think. I moved to sit on the bed, curling myself up above his head and staring down at him. He stiffened, a dark look overcasting his eyes.

'I don't have compassion Violet.' His voice was deadly quiet. 'I can't be what you want me to be. I've murdered. I've raped. I've hurt people. And I don't even care enough to remember.' Tears glinted in his eyes and as he turned his head away from me they dripped down to his chin.

'I believe in you Tate.' I said, reaching down to cup his face. 'I know you did all of those things, but I don't see them in you. Your light pulled me from the dark, so let me return the favour.' His hands came up to my knees, squeezing them as if they were his last hope. He tilted his chin to look up at me properly, his hair shifting to tickle my legs. I bent over him, tracing a finger over his lips as he spoke.

'Thank you.' He muttered, before pushing himself up and falling into my lap, arms squeezing me against his body. I weaved my finger through his hair, closing my eyes.

'We'll figure all of this out.'