Carver leads me outside and down Everdean a little way, to a brightly orange Volkswagen Beetle that I would never picture her in if I didn’t see her unlocking it now. She gestures for me to get in, and I slump into the passenger’s seat, still feeling like I’m going to be sick all over the dashboard as she starts the engine and drives away from Dorchester. Since it’s getting pretty late, there’s not a ton of traffic which is a relief, it means less stopping and going, less lurching to test my stomach’s resolve. I lean my head against the window and sigh quietly as the cool glass combats the heat of my forehead. I still can’t grasp what Carver told me. I still can’t accept that this small injury on my wrist is going to kill me. There will be a cure, Carver just doesn’t know what it is, because I learned a few years ago that Carver isn’t nearly as infallible as she wanted everyone in the Order to believe. I’ll be fine, and so my worry swerves back to Henry.

There’s also curiosity about Billy. If this is some joke (which I don’t think it could be, Carver isn’t the sort) it’s going on too long for my liking. “Why did you say it’s your apartment?” I ask, thinking I could get some of that curiosity sated.

“I bought it after the Order fired me,” Carver replies candidly. “I had a feeling he would linger, and he did.”

“Man…I wish I knew that earlier,” I groan, thinking of the night Henry came to me and told me about the relic. If I knew Billy was around, I could have gone to his apartment and asked about the relic, and Erra, and the Bishops, and about all the twisted paths that led to Erra’s eventual escape. Billy’s family is involved in it somehow, but I never did get more details. Now I suppose I can.

When we get to the apartment complex, I feel oddly nervous. Guilty too, because I never once came around here after Billy’s horrific death. It was my fault, if I hadn’t pressured him into taking the Whiteworm Amanita then he’d still be here. I still think Elena was ultimately responsible, rather than the drug as Sheldon insisted, but it doesn’t really matter now. He’s gone, even if it’s not entirely, and that is something I’ll have to live with.

Carver unlocks the door and I expect to see the apartment reflect her personality; strait-laced and tidy, sensible décor and layout, lots of cool colors…instead, it’s exactly as I remember it. There are a few more additional pieces, like a small bookcase, a record player, and a new bed, but otherwise it’s still Billy’s place.

“Hey, kid.”

That warm voice makes me start and I look towards the loveseat that’s also been added to the apartment’s bedroom/living room. Sitting on it is Billy. He’s wearing the same outfit he had on the night he died, and he’s smiling easily, but he looks faded. He’s not spectral, not a smoky outline whose legs fade to nothing, and he’s not see-through, but he looks like he could slip out of sight if you didn’t watch him closely enough. It’s like the saturation’s been turned down on him, the contrast too, making the sharper edges of his features softer than they should be.

I go to him directly, and he only perceives my intent when I’m practically at the couch.

“I’m not—”

He doesn’t finish. I nearly collapse onto him in an attempt to put my arms around him, but while he may not look invisible, I don’t feel him. I feel a slight chill, and hear a high-pitched ringing, but I’m face first in the back of the loveseat. I shift to sit at the other end, while Billy is exactly where he’d been when I walked in.

“Solid,” he finishes. “But hey, I appreciate the gesture.”

“I’m sorry,” I mumble.

“I mean, it’s more awkward for you than for me, so I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“No, I’m sorry about what happened.”

“Yeah, and I’m telling you not to be. It wasn’t your fault.”

“But…”

“Ri, do yourself a favor and ditch the Catholic Guilt thing already, eh? You look great, by the way. Very handsome. Although…a bit sickly?”

“He went to see Erra,” Carver interjects, reminding us both that she’s still here. She’s standing nearby, with her arms crossed and a stern expression on her face.

“Oh,” Billy says, looking crestfallen suddenly. “Oh, Riley…”

“Show him the injury,” Carver insists.

I frown at them both, feeling like I’m being left out of a secret while I am the secret. Still, I show Billy my blackened wrist, and I grimace when I notice that it looks worse than before. The skin of my forearm is starting to mottle, the veins that are visible look black rather than blue.

“What do you know about this?” I ask him. “I need to know, I need to save Henry, I need to know how you’re connected, I need to know everything there is to know.”

“I don’t know everything,” Billy sniffs.

“Then tell me what you do know!” I snap. “For fuck’s sake, I feel like I’ve been running blind because everyone’s keeping all their knowledge to themselves!”

Billy isn’t impressed by the outburst, and just looks at me with a raised brow before he reaches over and pats my thigh. Or, rather he mimics patting my thigh, since he can’t actually touch me. “That’ll do, Pig, that’ll do,” he says. “Babe, the Gallant Pig,” he adds at my angrily clueless expression. “Uh, right. Anyway. So, first, we need to deal with that,” he points at my wrist. “Because that is rancid, my friend, I’m going to tell you exactly what you need to look for at Margadh Sióg.”

“I don’t think I can handle a trip to the market right now,” I groan. “Can’t you do it?”

“I can’t leave the premises,” Billy grins and that grin says enough about that.

“I’ll go,” Carver volunteers. “You should rest as much as you can, Averline. Tell me what I need, Bill.”

I mouth ‘Bill’ to him and he winks, but gets up as Carver moves to the bedside table and withdraws a small notepad. While he rattles off a list of ingredients, metals, and an assortment of items, I study my wrist. Would this really kill me? I don’t feel as badly as I did on my way back to Boston, but I definitely don’t feel like I’m really getting better. I thought there’d be enough of Henry that Erra wouldn’t be able to do something so…permanent to me. I was banking on it, frankly, when I decided to go to New York in the first place. Even if I couldn’t speak directly to Henry, surely he had some kind of reins on Erra…apparently not. I guess I should be thankful he didn’t outright murder me right then and there, although if this is the slow and painful sort of death, I don’t think I can really count it as a mercy.

“I’ll be back soon,” Carver says.

“Is it safe for you to go?” I ask. “There was the plague or blight, whatever, when Erra came back.”

She looks somewhat hesitant, but withdraws a gas mask. “This will have to be enough,” she replies.

I doubt it’s just a mask, no doubt enchanted to provide better protection. At least, I hope that’s the case.

“Thanks,” and this is by far my strangest interaction with this woman to date.

She departs and it’s just me and Billy again. He sits back down on the loveseat, one arm slung over the back.

“I miss you,” I admit.

“You better!” his exclamation makes me chuckle, and his own rumbling laugh joins in. “I miss you too, kid.”

“What’s it like being a ghost?”

“You’d be amazed at how intrusive people can be after you die,” he hums.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

“All right, point taken.”

“Good. Now, about those other answers you want. Give me some more of the specifics, would you? I’m not all-seeing now or anything. Tell me what happened.”

I relate to him everything Henry told me, or at least the relevant parts – I couldn’t bear repeating the abuse he went through. I spoke of how he worked with Castillo, and figured out his family was trying to break into Billy’s own storage unit looking for the relic depicted in the book Magicks & Alchemy. I explained that Henry found the relic there, and how he eventually came to me, but that the Order fucked everything when they interfered and captured Henry as a criminal. After that there’s a large blank in my story, because Henry escaped with the help of Muir and I never saw him again. I hear my voice quiver when I talk about seeing him in the black market, not really as Henry, but as Erra. I try to keep the accusation out of my voice when I point out that Billy’s family was obviously involved in all this too, somehow. If Billy catches that accusation, which I’m sure he did, he chooses not to acknowledge it.

“If I’d known Henry was a Bishop, that would have saved a lot of heartache. Charles and Ines…I wouldn’t wish them on my enemies.”

“But how are you connected?”

“Ines is my cousin, or was…I suppose. The Burkes, my family, they also did the rituals under the moon. Ines and Charles were the first of both the Burkes and Bishops to get married, so when Henry was born…yeah, that matches up, I was pretty much ignored at that point, but I think they tried to use me as a vessel beforehand.

“I knew they were up to shady shit, and I knew that it wouldn’t be good for anyone else involved. Before I left home, I learned what I could about it, and then I stole the relic – which my parents had and wouldn’t give up to anyone, not even Ines or her parents. I also grabbed the book, which regrettably was dropped into Boston Harbor at some point due to…certain circumstances.”

“You were high.”

“Guilty, yes, but anyway…I knew I needed a secure place to keep the relic and I didn’t trust the Order with it either, so I figured what better place than one owned by Boston’s biggest crime boss? I stashed it at Mattapan Maximum Security and it was safe there for years. I figured that was the end of it, never would have guessed I was related to Henry when you introduced me to him. I wouldn’t guess that he was the product of such shitty people either. If I’d known he was a Bishop, I would have kept a closer eye on things.”

“Stop talking about him in the past tense…”

Billy looks solemn, and only nods. “I wish I could tell you more about who or what Erra is,” he continues. “But I made it clear very early on I wouldn’t have anything to do with my family’s bullshit, and they probably took it as a blessing when I ran away…At least until they realized I ran away with the relic. Anyway, what I do know about him is that he’s a creature of death. A blight. The Nathir, the title the Burkes and Bishops used for him – the Harbinger. My parents basically worshipped him as a Pestilence God, trying to summon him so he could destroy everything so the world could be born anew. Not sure how they decided it would be a better world, or even a livable one if Erra is such a terrible blight. But they had this alchemical formula that was meant to protect them at least, I gave Carver the list of things needed to make it.”

“A god?” I repeat, stuck on that word, but Billy shrugs dismissively, like it’s only a title given to Erra from his family. I can’t imagine wanting to summon something that would wipe out everything, but I’m not here to understand the minds of the Burkes or the Bishops. I’m only interested in saving Henry. “Sheldon says Erra is the reason the Order of Cerberus was created in the first place,” I add, also thinking of Erra’s comment to say hello to Sheldon. “Did he know about you? Your family?”

“That’s…not really something I shared with anyone in the Order. And you should be demanding answers from Sheldon,” Billy points out. “Don’t take any sort of no, kid. Sheldon may be intimidating, but fuck it, what do you really have to lose by pissing him off?”

“Fair enough,” I look at my wrist again. We sit in silence for what feels like several minutes before I look at him again. “I can’t believe I’m actually talking to you again; I don’t think it’s hit me fully that you’re here.”

“I’m like a weed, I know,” Billy replies. “Resilient to the very end.”

“You’d have to be, living with Carver.”

“Nah, she’s all right. She’s lightened up a lot since getting canned.”

“If you say so.”

We fall to silence that isn’t wholly comfortable again. I still can’t banish the image of his dying moments, and despite what he said, I still feel guilty about all of it. I’m also processing what he just told me about his history. I can’t believe that he and Henry were related the whole time. I recall the day I introduced them, back when I was still denying my true self. Henry and I had been together for a few months, and in that short time I felt sure of one thing, that we’d eventually get married. This certainty led me to letting Henry into my whole life, at least as much as I could, and that meant knowing Billy. Billy came out of the gates swinging, making jokes and being his boisterously charming self, and Henry in his gentle way kept pace with him. It’s always been a memory I look back on fondly, but now it only hurts.

“Do you have any beer?”

Billy snorts loudly, obliterating the silence. “Yeah, I pop down to the corner store and get a steady supply. Sorry, kid. No beer here, Betty is more of a white wine and whiskey gal.”

“Is there something I should know about the two of you?” I ask, deciding it’s too much effort to get up and look for a drink. I don’t think I could peel myself off the loveseat even if it suddenly caught on fire.

“Phantom sexcapades galore,” Billy effects a dreamy tone. He laughs when our eyes meet. “I’m joking. We live together, do you expect me to keep up the workplace formalities?”

“All right, all right,” I’d throw the pillow I’m leaning on at him, but I know it wouldn’t be at all effective. Besides, I’m starting to feel a little dizzy again, and would likely only succeed in wobbling off the couch. “You think Betty would be mad if I collapsed onto her bed?”

“Only if you get under the covers and sweat all over her very expensive sheets,” Billy’s voice is still light, but I can see the concern in the downturn of his mouth.

I stand up with a groan. My head throbs, I shiver, and my joints feel like they’re encased in cement as I shuffle the short distance to the bed and collapse face first onto the duvet. I know I should kick my shoes off, but I don’t have the energy to once I’ve shifted enough to be laying fully on the bed. If Carver wants to kick my ass about it, she’s welcome to, maybe it’ll help me shake off this illness.

“—erline. Mr. Averline!”

I wake with a start, confused by the brightly colored walls and tapestries which hang on them that surround me. Then I focus on the two shapes at the side of the bed and my eyes flutter before registering Carver and Billy.

I feel much better, and I wonder if maybe we all overreacted about my injury and I just needed to sleep it off. I look at my wrist and notice the large bangle that’s around it. It’s gaudy as hell, not the sort of thing I would wear even if I was completely wasted, but it looks like it’s made of real gold sprinkled with random blotches of other colors…not great, considering the areas of the city my job often takes me to.

“Why?” I ask, holding up my wrist to them.

“It’s that or dying,” Billy replies. “You are now in possession of a rare alchemical miracle, Riley. Gold, silver, selenium, mercury, a little platinum, black tourmaline, crystallized moon bee honey…”

“I think we all get the point,” Carver sighs.

“Way to ruin my moment,” Billy retorts. “In short, it hasn’t healed you, but it will keep the affliction contained to that one area.”

My head is fuzzy and taking longer to process words, but I get the gist. With this thing on, I won’t be at risk of dying. “So, I need to wear this for the rest of my life?”

“We need to see if there’s an actual cure,” Carver says. “It may only slow it down; we don’t know for sure.”

“You could’ve let him had a minute of relief.”

“I don’t coddle.”

“You don’t have to tell me.”

“If it’s such a bother, I can find a much nicer place to live and you can deal with mundane tenants instead.”

“Mom, Dad, can we calm down?” I cut in. “Whether this is delaying the inevitable or I’m fine, it doesn’t matter. I can’t just sit around; I have to find out more about Erra. Or more specifically, how to cast him out of Henry.”

“Speak to Joseph,” Carver suggests. “He knows much that he isn’t willing to readily share.”

“That’s going to be fun,” I mutter. “Okay. So, I guess it’s back to headquarters for me. Thank you for the life-saving monstrosity,” I add.

“Hey, I’m not a skilled alchemist, I did the best I could in instructing Betty on putting it all together,” Billy replies, although there’s a certain humor to his face that says he could have made something more to my tastes, he just chose not to. Ass.

He does walk me to the door though, while Carver hangs back. I wish I could hug him, but I settle for smiling at him. “Is it selfish of me to say I’m glad you didn’t move on?”

“Incredibly so,” he grins. “I can still help though, so make sure you mention my part when you’re talking about how you saved the world.”

“Oh, I’ll embellish too. This place is going to be surrounded by supernatural fans.”

“Boy, they’ll be disappointed when they realize I’m no Jensen Ackles or Jared Padalecki.”

I shake my head and open the door, pausing before I step over the threshold. “I think seeing you again did me more good than this bracelet.”

“I love you too, Riley.”

I step back into the hall, lifting a hand in farewell before the door closes and separates me from Billy. I’ll come back here; I’ll visit him. Carver is just going to have to deal with me being around. Right now, I have to get back to headquarters. Looking at my phone tells me I was unconscious for about six hours, although I feel like I could sleep for another day or five. Still, maybe showing up when I’m supposed to still be on leave will catch Sheldon off guard and I’ll be able to pry some information out of him. No, there can’t be any maybe about it. He’s going to tell me what I need to know. As I head out of the apartment building, however, I feel my eyes burn and my thoughts, though still groggy, are beginning to race again. I have a few more days of leave left, maybe it won’t kill me to use another one just to rest.