Only

John woke up earlier in the morning than usual- his mind failing to let him rest. The house had been silent that night, but his mind had never been more deafening. He looked across the room- his desk littered with papers from before, with letters and spilled ink. A sigh slid between his teeth just looking at it, his hands rubbing his eyes tiredly. There was an unconfident voice in his head telling him that she would look better today- just like last time. Her smile would bloom, her eyes would sparkle like dew-kissed grass.

Still, he could not shake from his mind the sounds of last night. They were beyond tears or heartbroken sobs- they were deep, ragged moans and bent cries. He had only broken a bone once in his life- but doing it multiple times in succession? A shiver ran lines up his back.

Though yet even more questions were sinking their fangs into the crevices of his brain, he closed his eyes and tried to focus on what he did know- what answers he had gathered.

She can control... that- whatever it was. If she couldn't, whatever Mr. Zahi said would have triggered it, he mused. She could feel pain- all the pain- despite being so gifted at healing. His mouth dipped down at that thought, now realizing why she had been so bitter about the topic. Gifted at healing, but feeling the ginormous waves of pain head-on; his image of her shifted in his mind. The fear, the nightmares, the past; for all that she was, she was stronger than he ever realized. Mentally, he drew back the picture of her on the ship- the hollow shell of a person he met. In but a days time she had been speaking to him; but maybe that was also because of the first time they met.

"Whatever way they would like to present themselves to me, I will observe." Perhaps that gave her the upper hand- that secret. His mind traced over the events of lunch with Mr. Zahi, and he thought back to the seller- the large, skirmish man. Slightly obtuse, square jaw, hidden violence- the thought of that man caused him to get up from bed, sitting at his desk. Shoving everything to the side, he drew out a fresh piece of paper and dipped his pen in some of the spilled ink. The tip hovered for a moment, a slight hesitation clicking in the back of his head, but he decided it was for the best. Listening and waiting would only get you so far, and when it came to her- he blinked and set the pen to the paper, ignoring the slight tenseness in his chest.

" Dear Mr. Zahi,

I have relayed your stories of the city to Miss Emerson, and she appreciated them dearly. I'm writing you in the hopes of accepting your invitation (if it still stands) to visit you in the city. Miss Emerson has never experienced the excitement of the city, and I think it will suit her tastes."

His fingers paused for a moment, his brow bent slightly as he continued writing in his own width, speaking of other matters. As he neared the end of the letter, the same hesitation from before clicked once, twice.

"Also, if it wouldn't be of any trouble, could you send back a picture of the archaeologist you spoke of before?"

After looking it once over, he signed his salutations and folded the letter, carefully putting it in an envelope. Taking care of the requirements, he set to getting dressed for the day, deciding to discretely put it in his inside pocket.

With the familiar coverage of his mask and gloves, he peeled open the door and carefully walked past Viera's room before descending the stairs. At the gentle sounds of silverware being set out, he approached Hans at the end of the table.

"You don't have to worry about breakfast today, Viera isn't going to be attending." Hans picked the silverware back up.

"Is she unwell?" John looked at Hans, to his aged face and kind eyes. Without a doubt, he knew Hans could keep any secret, most importantly his own. The past was beginning to become a currency here, and he didn't like it. Trade was never something he was very skilled at, but he was grateful for Hans' loyalty to his company.

"She hasn't been sleeping well, some rest would do her good," his cheeks smiled. Picking up the plates, he headed back to the kitchen with Hans and set them on the counter.

"I hoped today you and Nimbe could go into town since there won't be any commotion for awhile. I also have an important letter to send to Mr. Zahi-" He pulled the crisp envelope from his pocket and handed it to Hans.

"It's important it gets out as soon as possible." Hans nodded and held it securely.

"Your pay is in the slipbox, as well as the monthly admissions. But most importantly, enjoy your almost day-off." It was the closest way he could express his gratitude in this situation, but he meant it sincerely. Hans' eyes relaxed as a small smile dotted his face.

"Ms. Nimbe and I will head to town then, Sir. Have a good day."

Extending the same wish in return, John watched as Hans went away before turning around. There was nothing to be done, except for the things on his desk, but where he once was obsessed over their contents, he now wanted to ignore them for as long as possible.

The light was soft. There were little particles floating in the air, waltzing slowly. She let out a long breath and watched the particles spin and stumble discombobulated, the movements slowly stilling into the same three beats of the waltz. The blankets felt cool and silky, and the world felt like her pillow. Here- a content sigh murmured from her lips. The world is beautiful here. She lazily rolled over and closed her eyes, clinging to the feeling of the slow air and warm sun. There was no mission to complete, no error to fear. Her arm stretched out and coiled back under her pillow, in a small haven found just in this moment- just in this instance, between the past and the present. The world blurred and faded once more into rest, images of golden fields and berry-curled nights perching peace upon the brow where fear once stood supreme.

Her eyes fluttered open once more, her gaze turning to the now evening view of the grounds. Slithering up from bed and making it neatly, she set to getting dressed. She had never put much thought into getting dressed before, but now she took a moment to slow down. Thinking about those sort of things never really occurred to her, so in that place she decided to try something new. Sifting through the dresses she had grown accustomed to, she found one at the back she had never worn, or rather, never noticed. As she set to braiding her charcoal hair and putting on the dress, an atom-sized part of her felt sick.

Are you so tame? it spat. Are you an ant person now?

Brushing the thought aside, she opened the door and walked down the stairs, the awkward heat returning to her face. So much had occurred in the past three days that devouring every instance felt like it would drown her in embarrassment, so instead she thought of him. He didn't seem off-put by her, he didn't seem agitated or hindered by what had happened. There was no doubt that he had his own confusions and thoughts milling in his head, but he was patient.

Patient- the word caused a warm smile to grow across her face.

Murmurs began to sound from the front door, a knock echoing through the house. She met John at the end of the stairs as he opened it, not a word passed between them.

"Hello, are you John Claire? Owner of this estate?" A tall man stood in a grey suit, his face beige and bitter. She peeked behind him to the other men, wearing black uniforms with flat-eye buttons. They were familiar, though she couldn't quite place why. Their faces were all stone-suited and serious, their eyes shielding disgust and hatred. Shielding, but when you've seen the look enough times, it can never stay hidden. She walked forward and met them as close as he was, plastering a wide smile on her face. Something wasn't right here.

John shuffled in the doorway for a second before answering.

"Yes, I am-"

"Then John Claire, the Scotland Yard has found you guilty of the following crimes- Arson, forgeries, murder..." Her ears grew cotton-kissed as she watched the men come inside pulling metal shackles from their pockets, their arms roughly pushing her aside. Their movements and words blurred together in organized succession- not a second of silence left for her to think. The man in the suit continued to list crimes effortlessly, and the haven the house had become was being stripped apart with every word. Where were Hans and Nimbe? Why weren't they here? Her hands grabbed onto his shirt- her mind splitting. The shackles chattered loudly as they clicked against each other, his arms restrained behind his back as his voice was drowned out with the commotion and voices of the others.

"He hasn't done anything wrong-" her voice was made of sticks as she was pulled back by someone, their arms like the bars of an iron-clad cage. In that instant, nothing had changed. She was trapped- everything around her was being stripped away; fear and helplessness swarmed under her lips as tears started to cloud her vision. As they started pushing him towards the door, their voices became lost in her ears.

Are you so tame? That voice spat once more. Are you an ant person now?

"No- no, no, no, no..." The person's grip on her tightened, panic taking over her body as her bones groaned lowly. With a deep breath she let the first bones break, the sounds swallowed by the chaos, the pain gaining a voice.

"For these crimes, you will be sentenced to death by hanging." Everything froze; the words fell like dead-weights to the floor and rolled over her feet. No-

The crushing grip of the man holding her back shattered as she surged forward and grabbed onto John's sleeve, pulling him towards herself roughly. The muscles and sinews in her body all twitched angrily, her arms cementing him to her chest. A wince broke through her face as more bones crunched in her back, tears threatening to spill from her eyes. Death is dictated by no one but me.

Esperus- the name whispered at the back of her mind.

"He is not going anywhere." The words grit through her teeth, the blood in her veins pulsing erratically- her skin burning as they tried to peel him from her. It was no use, she defiantly thought, not when she was as strong as all these men combined.

"Miss, he is a criminal-" It didn't matter what they said, because a click sounded from across the room. She looked up to see the man in the grey suit holding a pistol towards them, his eyes cold.

"Let him go Miss, or you will be arrested for interfering with our work. This man is dangerous, and he needs to be put behind bars." Behind bars- the mention of them caused deeply buried images of the past to rush to the surface with her tears, causing them to pathetically spill down her cheeks. Despite that, the man made no effort to lower his gun.

The black eye of the barrel loomed heavily. One bullet was all it took- one bullet and everything could break right now.

"Do you believe in God?" As hard as she tried to hold back her low sobs, the water dripping from her chin onto Johns shoulder was enough to make the others to calm slightly. John watched mutely, stunned. Nobody had ever clung to him in such a way, and though he couldn't see her face, he could feel her tears wetting his shirt. Her hands felt as though they were cemented to his skin, and though he didn't dare move, he could feel them shaking choppily, as if at any moment, she would explode.

All you need to be to fool mankind, Esperus, is to be one of two things- the warning words of The Doctor rushed to life as she gazed at their stark faces, the skin on her back aching from the pressure of powerful bones pushing to break free.

A miniscule silence loomed as she focused on the man's finger on the trigger, his rough face relaxing slightly as he looked at her in pity.

"I do." He sighed. "Sinners like him deserve to burn in Hell." The disorganization within her stilled as she took in a deep breath, her grip relaxing slightly.

"That is where you are wrong-" Everything shattered for a brief moment- the sounds of her dress ripping loudly slashing through the room before a slow breath slipped from her teeth.

All you need to be is a Devil or an Angel.