The pain woke him. He'd thought the pain of recovery was over for good, but as John sat up he recalled the Collector had stabbed his leg. Another day, another new kind of pain. The room was dark and he was alone, but he heard voices mingling with Mam's downstairs and saw the shadow of piled up boxes looming on the other side of the room. 'You idiot, should've taken a fucking weapon,' he mumbled to himself. Something white caught the moonlight on his bedside cabinet, and when he realised what it was, saccharine bliss and a hint of dread filled him. Sweet morphine. His finger trembled as he reached for the tub and tipped four--no, six Vicodin into his palm.

#

The radio played in his empty room, John laughed and watched his hands dance before his eyes as though detached. Why were fingers so interesting? His body seemed to move of its own accord to the music. Even the dull ache in his leg couldn't stop the groove or the fact that his fingers were the centre of his universe right now. Thoughts came at a million miles an hour and left as fast as they came, faces came and went but nothing mattered except his fingers. Thoughts of dancing naked around a fire with his friends appealed to him as another wave of music soaked into his body. Man, he'd love to be able to play the drums! The funky rhythm!

And still his fingers danced, hypnotising snakes before his vacant his eyes.

SEMILA LEANG

Semila sat at the end of his bed shaking her head. John, for some reason, seemed fascinated with his fingers. She guessed it was the morphine, but what could she do? She peeled away the blankets covering his legs and removed the bandage to view the wound again. The neat stitches that pulled the wound together looked almost alien against his white skin. At least there was no infection, either human or otherwise.

She ran her finger around the wound, and spoke in a soft, gentle voice. A hint of colour returned to the skin around the deep knife wound and Semila smiled. It had to be done a little at a time so it seemed natural. It'd cause such a stir if the wound healed in only a few days. And so she pulled the blanket back, adjusted the edge. They had all the time in the world now.

'What goes on in that mind of yours John?'

Of course he didn't answer, only twitched his hands and stared vapidly at them. Semila looked around the room, then rubbed her hands together. She reached over to place her hand on John's forehead. A cough from behind her forced her to stop. She turned and bowed. 'Anubis.'

'I have tried that already,' he said, 'there is nothing but darkness.'

'You favour him?' Semila swept a strand of hair out of his face and put her palm on his forehead while Anubis walked around the bed to face her.

Death cocked his head. 'I suppose I do, I find him...different...exciting.'

Semila raised an eyebrow. 'Would you take him when the time comes?'

Death looked her straight in the eyes, she tried to defy him but lowered her gaze at the force of his person without meaning to. 'My apologies Anubis, I was just trying to gauge your love for John.'

'Love? There is no love. That is something I cannot do.' Death sighed as he sat down. 'There is, however, an attraction.'

'Attraction?' She frowned and he smiled at her confusion.

'I am the Angel of Death, I was the first and will be the last. It is my job to deliver all to their finality. I can tell you John is a first, he is a saver of life, maybe even in his own sense an angel.' Death placed his hands in his lap and fell silent.

Semila snorted.

'Come here girl,' Death said as he beckoned her towards him, 'I will show you what he can do.'

The plush carpet tickled her knees as she knelt before Death, and he put his lips to her forehead. In blinding white light, she crashed into John's pain. Memories flooded her consciousness, she saw her own death, felt it keen on her throat. The anguish and desperation of a tortured soul. The child, the man, the love, the hate. But most of all, Semila saw life. She watched as John saved his father, then as he saved her, she watched his soul brighten to the point of hurt, saw Marty dying on the floor in Samantha's apartment which faded to nothing as, once again, John changed time.

Semila saw a boy on the road, it was John. Then an older John standing above himself. Pictures flooded into her mind, faster and faster, strange and familiar, sharp and indistinct, dark and bloody. They pushed deeper into her mind, obtrusive, insistent, overwhelming. She wanted to scream, wanted it to stop.

'Stop,' she forced through gritted teeth. 'Please stop.'

Demons, devils, angels, and humans shot through her mind. Planets and constellations streaked by as she fought to stay conscious. 'Please Anubis, no more.' Then she opened her eyes. They both floated in nothingness before a huge red sun.

Death's voice resonated in the void, forcing Semila to her knees.

'I am all times, I am all places. Where Death is present, so am I. John is my opposite he brings life, he brings hope. He has chosen good, and evil now fears him. John has chosen his side, there is no balance. The eternal game has changed. Keep him safe Semila, chosen guardian.'

Her stomach lurched as she realigned with her mortal body.

'There was absolutely' --she got to her feet, dusted herself off-- 'no fucking need for that!'

Death smiled. 'I like dramatics.' He flounced his hand in the air.

They both looked at John who was out for the count.

'Is he really that powerful?'

Death nodded. 'He is a child in his abilities, but he will grow. And when he does, the possibilities may be endless.' He bowed as he dissipated like a mist in the morning sun. 'Keep him safe Semila, daughter of vengeance.' Death's voice faded to nothing.

The loud knock on the door downstairs made her spin on her heels.

#

Semila was halfway down the stairs when she heard the voices.

'I know it's absurd, but the chief has personally gotten involved.' Marty spoke in an over loud voice.

'It's more than absurd, it's a fucking disgrace. I can't believe you would do this Marty, after all we have done!' Diane's voice was sharp, shrill. As she descended the last few steps, she saw Diane shove Marty, dressed in his full suit, on the chest.

'If I didn't he would have sent vans, cars, and god knows what else Di. Please, it will just be routine questions. I promise.' His voice was calmer now. Semila tapped the oak banister with a nail.

'You can't be serious.' Samantha butted in, scowling.

'Promise!' Diane stood between her husband and Marty. 'You're bringing him in for bloody murder Martin!'

'Calm,' Semila said as she walked over to the group with her hands in front of her. They all hushed and looked at her.

'Please,' she said as she wandered to the centre of the room. 'Tell me what is going on here, maybe I can help.'

Dan stepped forward. 'The police are arresting me, suspected murder. They found blood traces at a murder sight, they were old but the DNA is a match to myself or John.'

'--and John wasn't even born then,' Semila finished for him as she cupped her hands to her face.

'They think I'm this nasty Collector fellow,' Dan said, his eyes filled up with tears.

She stood up and paced around the group, looking at the floor, after the third lap she stopped and looked at the four mortals before here. 'Marty, arrest Mr Finnie. He will be fine and will be under your protection. Yes?'

'Yes ma'am, I won't leave his side. I promise.' His voice was most solemn.

'You can't break a promise Marty, you understand that, right?'

Marty nodded slack jawed as he stared into her eyes -- worked every time.

She turned to Samantha and Diane. 'Mr Finnie will be fine. Marty will guard him. We need to get John better, he's our priority.' She reached for the bannister and put her right foot on the first step. She looked back at the mortals who stood gawping at her. 'Sometimes,' she said as she looked up, 'I forget how fucking powerful I am.' She clapped her hands. 'Chop fucking chop people!'

JOHN FINNIE

'And so he has been arrested for murder.' Semila sat on the end of John's bed as John listened to her recounting the week's events, but dusty cobwebs clung to each thought.

John shook his head but they remained. 'Sorry Sem, I think you're going to have to repeat that. I thought you said Marty has arrested my Dad for murder.'

Semila looked up to the ceiling. 'Give me fucking strength.' She reached forward and touched John's face.

Crack. Searing fire, a lightning bolt hit him. The week's events since he had Blinked out of the photo with a stab wound flooded into his mind along with some other visions and feelings he didn't quite want.

'You like Marty?' John blurted.

Semila reddened a little. 'I like his attitude,' she said. '...And he's fit.'

'He's married Sem.' John smiled.

Crossing her arms, Semila humphed. 'I've been mortal too long John, that's the problem.'

'It doesn't matter anyway, I know who he is Sem, I know who the killer is.' He tugged at the railing, tested his legs' strength with tip toes, and limped over to his drawers, pulling out a shirt. 'I remember him from my dreams, he was in the cop car that pulled up and put the posters out.' The buttons on his shirt slipped into their holes, obedient little creatures shoved thumb-thumb into the holes where they belonged. And the Collector was next. He reached for his trousers.

'The killer is Blake, I'd remember that face anywhere. It's haunted me for seventeen years.' The trouser button joined his comrades. 'We can stop him Sem. We can have him arrested and he won't be able to hurt a soul ever again. He'll never hurt Charlie Sem, I can stop him.' Holding onto the countertop, he shoved his half useless feet into his shoes, grimacing as he pushed with his bad leg. Feet weren't so eager for their holes.

Semila looked at what he was holding. 'Maybe think before we act John, eh?'

The photo in his hand seemed to nod an agreement when he glanced at it. Yes, John, put me away you fucking idiot. You don't want another stab wound. But another voice in his head said, 'Do it!' and he yearned to pop the Collector into a hole, nice and neat. 'I can save her Sem!' He smiled at her as he spun into the darkness of the Blink.

SEMILA LEANG

'You fucking crazy bastard!' Semila chuckled to herself as she picked up the photo that drifted to the floor. Before, she'd have sworn all the ears in this place to shreds at his fucking foolishness, but having seen what he could do, what Anubis had revealed, she felt an odd peace that whatever John chose, things would work out fine. The photo had been taken by Samantha the day before Charlie'd been murdered. Would a grown up Charlotte walk through the door? Would she appear from nothing downstairs in her bedroom? After a minute and the amusing thought that she may faint, she started breathing again. She spun quick at the sound of someone hitting the floor behind her.

John lay there, his nose was bleeding and he was breathing hard. Semila ran to him and knelt by his side. John gripped her by her shirt.

'He's there, the Collector is there and he can fucking Blink too!'

The room span as John blacked out, and Semila fought away the nausea she suddenly felt.

They were all fucked now.

P.S. I see some of y'all (You know, I'm not American and I have no clue why this y'all thing works so well for comments, but just go with it okay?) So anyway, Y'ALL have been asking, "Who is this Blake? I do not know a BLAKE?"

Well, let me be the first to say, "You know nothing, John Snow!"

*gets handed a note*

Oh. Apparently I'm thinking of the wrong John.... What I meant to say is, "Blake was always there, guys!"

Some of the super-sluice smarty pants detectives out there, the Sherlocks of Wattpad, must have noticed where in the book BLAKE was mentioned. Yes, it's at the beginning. Yes, we were super sneaky when we put our BLAKE hints into this book.

*evil laugh*

I'm sure all the detectives can tell us where we mentioned BLAKE.... go on, tell me. Tell me! *slaps PC*

Oh alright. Fine. I will be updating this chapter here a bit in the near future to make it more obvious where we saw Blake before. Will that help y'alllll some?

© Steve Ford and Joy Cronjé 2018