That doesn't bother Eve at all. Fear? It's only natural. But Lynia can't see it. Can't see any of it. She's too...too Lynia.

Actually, the little flash of panic on Teresa's face every time she lays eyes on Eve feels good.

Lynia takes a deep breath, and prepares to say the words. She knows them well, because she's said them a thousand times before, since the day she and Teresa found Eve huddled in the corner of an alley. She will say them again. As many times as it takes to make Eve understand them.

"They're wrong. They say that because the sxelanth took your mother, you can't be trusted. But they're wrong. You're not tainted. You're not evil. You're not dangerous. You're not any less human than anyone else."

She caresses Eve's head, and Eve feels the softness of her hand and thinks about how good it would feel to rip the skin from her fingers.

She won't last much longer. It's been years, keeping herself bottled up inside her skin, but it gets more difficult with every day. The pressure builds inside her. Maturation. Probably. It's not like anybody really knows how sxelanthe work. So far as Eve knows, she's the first time this has happened.

Another gentle kiss to Eve's scalp. "Everything they did to you -- you didn't deserve it. Not one blow."

She agrees with that. She should have been killed, back in that orphanage, instead of abused and bullied. If only she'd died back then, before she met Lynia -- before she saw what wonderful things there were in the world, and what terrible danger she posed to them --

Her arms move, too swiftly to be human, and she clutches Lynia like she's dying. She feels the breath in Lynia's lungs. She won't hurt her. She won't.

Lynia just giggles, very softly, and pets Eve's deep violet hair.

How can she be like this? How can anyone be like this? Even Teresa, Lynia's own sister -- even she is different. No one is so soft, so pure, so giving.

There is a part of Eve that wants very badly to believe that Lynia could forgive even what Eve would like to do to her.

After all, it's not as though she'd be permanently hurt. Once it was over she'd be good as new. Until the next time...

Because there would be a next time. She's held it off this long with a bright line like a flaming torch. If that line gets broken, even once --

God, she doesn't even know for sure what it feels like. If she had that memory inside her, if she knew how happy it made her...

All resistance would crumble.

Lynia is still holding her, and kissing her, and petting her. Eve is crying, but she doesn't appear to have noticed. It must be something terrible this time.

It...it almost feels like she's been getting worse, lately. But that can't be. They saved Eve from that awful place, years ago, and now she's recovering. Because Lynia and Teresa love her, and she loves them.

Well, if she is getting worse, then Lynia will just have to make sure it stops.

Isn't there a chance Lynia could endure it? She's sacrificed so much for Eve. Can't she suffer one more thing? Isn't it better to try and find out?

No.

She tears herself out of Lynia's arms, and withdraws, facing away from her. Facing the window, and the curtains, and the sun.

Lynia is...saddened by it. Not shocked. Not angry. Not in pain, really. Just sad.

It looks like Eve isn't okay. And Lynia really, really wants Eve to be okay.

There is a very simple reason why Eve won't hurt Lynia, even though she loves her. It's true that the wounds would heal, that the cuts would close. And she is very, very brave. But --

She thinks of the way Lynia's body seizes up when there's a spider, or a beetle. The way she sat in her room and hugged herself that one week after a classmate slapped her, until Teresa coaxed her out. The way she held Eve, a month after she and Teresa had saved her from the orphanage, when she'd finally realized just how Eve had been treated -- and cried, and cried, and cried...

Brave. But not strong.

Not nearly strong enough to face what Eve is.

Her body would heal, but the thing that is Lynia would be gone forever.

And the possibility of a world which does not contain Lynia cannot be allowed to exist.

Maybe... Maybe it's time she finally wielded the knife against herself.

A world without Lynia is unthinkable, but a world without Eve would get along just fine.

Eve is shaking again. Lynia bites her lip. She wants to say --

Why aren't you okay? Stop being not-okay.

But she knows that's not how okayness works.

She'll have to do it herself. So she says:

"You know I'd do anything, don't you?"

Eve turns her head, meets Lynia's eyes. They are wide and brown and pleading.

Eve has a terrible feeling.

"I want you to be safe and happy. Please. I'd feel awful if you were hurting. And I'll do anything, endure anything, no matter what it is, so please just tell me how I can make you okay."

Eve lunges across the bed and takes Lynia in her arms. She falls back and lands upon the mattress, with Eve atop her. She's squeezing Lynia tightly. More tightly than before.