Three hours after

He didn't need Valkyrie. He was a well adjusted skeleton who had spent 400 years without her, after all.

If she didn't speak to him ever again… Well, he would be fine. He didn't need her. This was good - healthy, even. What did spending time with Darquesse say about him? Nothing good. This was all for the best. If he was to be completely honest with himself - he didn't even like her that much.

She was rude and had bad taste in fashion, she didn't respect him at all and the way she pressed her lips together when she was confused or thinking deeply wasn't endearing in the slightest. Skulduggery had no idea why she thought it was. (Wait. No, that was just him. Well, before. Not anymore. Because he didn't need her.)

...Yes. He was perfectly fine with this adjustment to his life. Perfectly.

One day after

The black and white film had been over for about fifteen minutes, but he couldn't find the effort in him to turn on the lights. He was sitting with his chin tucked into his knees, arms around his thin legs, and he knew truthfully that his suit was so wrinkled he didn't dare look at it. And besides, he liked the candlelight. He had bought 'sea breeze' candles and had them sitting around the house.

But this was the 14th leg of his old movie marathon. And he was running out of ocean candles.

Pathetic. He was pathetic.

Two days after

"Have you and Valkyrie had any luck with this Death Bringer case?" Ghastly voice asked, slightly tinny. "I wouldn't be pushing this on you so much, but with the situation getting worse and worse, and everyone staring at us expectantly…"

"It's fine," Skulduggery answered. "We've just… ah," he taps his fingers, "have had a…"

He can hear the smile in Ghastly's voice. "I know. Just try to ease her back into it. Gently. I know you don't always have the most tact. But she's broken up with her first boyfriend. That's bound to ha-"

Skulduggery fumbled with the phone. It slipped through his fingers, dropped to the floor.

"Skulduggery?" came Ghastly's voice, muted. "Everything alright?"

The detective picked up the phone again, wiping it on his trousers. "Yes, of course. I don't think the silk of these gloves are very effective for holding phones."

Ghastly sighed. "I'll find a new fabric when I have time. I know how fussy you are about your gloves. But work on the case first, alright? Please."

"We will." Skulduggery said, and hung up.

So. She had broken up with Fletcher. And Ghastly knew before he did. It seemed such a random act for her to commit - she did enjoy her relationship with the boy, or at least, she always told him so.

…Oh dear God, it wasn't for Caelan, was it?

No. No, she wouldn't do that. And if she did… he would quietly pay the vampire a visit while Valkyrie was not around. It would be easy and might make him feel better about this whole thing. He nodded, content.

...And she would definitely not suspect her guardian angel to be the former friend she refused to talk to. He sighed.

For a moment, he wondered if she was rattled enough by what happened in the Temple to make rash decisions she'd probably regret.

He dismissed the thought a second later.

She was Valkyrie. If she had broken up with Fletcher, it was because he deserved it. It would have nothing to do with Caelan, or him.

Three days after

"Look," Skulduggery began, hesitating slightly. "I know this isn't something I would usually do, but… I have no idea how to proceed with this entire event, and you understand my actions better than I do. I might not like or trust you, but I need help and I thought I should go to the smartest person I know. Besides, you have excellent taste in fashion. That always helps."

"That it does," Skulduggery's reflection said and then nodded. "I think you already know why this has rattled you so much. You're used to seeing her every day, aside from that excellent year in the Faceless Ones Realm. And your fights never last longer than an hour."

"This is a bit bigger than that."

"Obviously. And there's a good chance she'll never forgive you."

Skulduggery was still, but his reflection was undeterred: "And you're terrified of that." It stopped and laughed. "That's hilarious. You're more terrified of her leaving you than him on his own." It chuckled again, as if waiting for Skulduggery to join in.

Skulduggery set his jaw. "I'm going to go to her."

"What?" It replied, sitting on the arm chair across from him. He was beginning to regret bringing it out for a chat. It spoke again: "That's a little drastic. These things need time. Even if she does want anything to do with you, she's probably still asleep."

"I'm going to go to her window," Skulduggery said, reaching for a tie with new found determination, "And she will have to listen to me."

"That," said the reflection, "Is a terrible idea. It's worse than when you decided on going to China's ball in 1897. It may be the worst idea you've ever had."

Skulduggery scoffed. "It is not." He slipped on his favorite jacket.

"Valkyrie prefers the dark blue one," the reflection said casually, "And actually, you're correct, my friend. Your worst decision was, and I quote, "I should go to Gordon's funeral. I miss him dearly and I'm sure none of the mortals will pay attention to me."

Skulduggery, ignoring it, stared at his suit sleeve. After a moment, he pulled off the jacket entirely and stared again.

"Move," he said to the reflection, and grabbed at the hanger hugging his dark blue suit.

"She's going to throw something at you," said the reflection sharply, "At the absolute best. Or maybe throw you out the window. If you're unlucky, she'll do that whole aura pinch thing… I hope not, even the memory of that hurt. Or she'll cry."

Skulduggery felt a shudder run through his thin frame. He attempted to mask it by putting his hat on.

When he turned, the reflection's stance was cocky, and he knew - as always - it had seen right through him.

"I want to resume my life," Skulduggery said evenly.

The reflection took a step backwards. "Good luck."

"Thank you," Skulduggery said, voice a controlled growl.

One foot in, one foot out, the reflection tilted its skull. "Maybe this will be enough for you. To figure it out?"

Skulduggery turned his back.

"Why Vile really came back," it began.

Skulduggery spun around.

All he could see now was his own face, caught in its constant smile.

He cocked his hat down aggressively, scowled as best he could, and turned on his heel.

She was going to listen to him. Even if it was for the last time.