Tobias might have been flippant about Leon's condition, but I couldn't feel the same way. The guilt weighed heavily on me, and after I'd washed my hands and cleaned out the sink Tobias had used, I settled myself into an uncomfortable wooden chair and listened to him sleep for who knew how long.

I could understand why Reapers wanted to be on Earth working instead of being stuck in the afterlife. They could gain a sense of the passing of time over on the other side, walking at the same pace as the humans they were there to take care of, pretending as if they were alive again. Languishing in the dark, long corridors of death didn't have quite the same appeal. Every passing moment might have been an hour. Every time I reached the end of a page of the registry an entire day might have moved on for us. No matter how much time it took, no one came to interrupt us. Leon and I were utterly alone throughout his early stages of recovery.

I was face down on the pages of a particularly dull tome when I heard his voice again. I'd been snoring softly, my nose pressed into the spine, an unattractive pool of drool sticking the paper to my face.

"Aren't you meant to be nursing me back to health?" Leon asked.

I sat bolt upright as if I'd been electrocuted, suddenly alert, my eyes wide to force them to stay open. Leon had hauled himself into a sitting position on the sofa, his feet flat on the floor, and leaned back into the leather as if he was simply reclining on a day off instead of coming back from the brink of his second death. Perhaps that was dramatic to say. After all, Tobias had said that he was whining too much and it wasn't his first extraction. It made it seem as though getting shot was par for the course when it came to being a Reaper.

I drew in a deep breath through my nose and stretched my arms above my head. "I can't go anywhere without you. Literally. I'm not down with the whole door-opening swishy thing."

"Would a comforting lie have been too much for you to manage?" he asked. "Would it have killed you to say that you were worried about my health?"

"Yes."

"Try. You did almost get me killed, after all." Leon must have noticed the way the blood drained from my face so swiftly that I was left ashen and lightheaded. In a bid to alleviate my guilt he added, "You also helped to save me. Sort of."

"I dug a bullet out of you with my bare hands."

"One hand, if I remember correctly."

"Toh-may-to, toh-mah-toh."

Leon patted the seat beside him. "Sit."

"Why?" I asked warily.

"Because I'm your boss and I told you to. It's not a trick. I'm not going to punish you."

"No? Did Tobias give you some weird drugs or are you all – you know – because of blood loss?" I gestured at him with a wave of my hand.

"What does you know mean?"

"Nice."

Leon let out a short, frustrated sigh. "I'm not a monster, Mackenzie. Sit."

I supposed it was the least I could do after the trouble I'd caused. I left my chair to cross the room, settling on the very edge of the sofa with a modest distance between the pair of us. I couldn't look him in the eyes.

Leon reached out and brushed his fingers against my neck. "The bruises are fading. I must have been out a while."

"Hard to tell in this place."

"You get used to it. Do you understand why I'm angry at you?" he asked.

"You nearly died..?"

"Well – yes – and you nearly died. Just because Jack and I didn't get along, doesn't mean it didn't impact me when he was killed. It was half his stupidity and half my failure for not backing him up."

"I get it. I was stupid and if you'd died it would've been all my fault. I get that you're mad at me for not listening to you, and I'm sorry. I don't know why I wandered off." A lie, of course, because I knew exactly what'd made me do it. It was the creepy little girl who I was convinced had been able to see us. I just didn't know how to approach the subject of her with Leon without looking crazy. It wasn't like she'd stuck around when Alistair had appeared. "Before I knew it, I was in the trees and that Alistair guy was there, and–"

"I'm angry because you didn't listen, and because I didn't notice you were missing sooner. I almost let you down the same way I let Jack down."

"It's not like it's your fault that he ran into danger. Or that I did the same thing. If I'd paid more attention, I would've noticed we were separated faster. But if it makes you feel better, we can say we were both to blame. At least that way you can't hold it over me that you got shot all the time."

"Oh, I'll still hold that over you. Still, you came back for me. You could've kept running, but you turned back when you thought I was in danger." Leon took his hand away from my neck. "That's more than I did for him."

"I wasn't going to leave you behind to die, even if you are an arse. I might not be great at all this Reaper stuff, but I know the difference between right and wrong."

That, and I had no way to open the door if Leon died. There were certainly some selfish motives behind my heroic return to his side.

"That's the mark of a good partner."

"Being an arse?"

"Saving someone even if you hate them."

My eyes pinched. "I don't hate you. I'm not exactly about to exchange friendship bracelets with you, but I don't hate you."

He was still an arse, though.

"Give it time. I'll grate on your nerves enough."

"Not enough for me to want to see you dead," I said. "No one can be that annoying."

"Sounds like a challenge."

"You should get some more sleep," I told him. "Tobias said you'd heal faster."

"I'll heal fine without it. Besides, I have dreams when I sleep." Leon shuddered at the mere idea. "I'd rather avoid them if I can."

"Can Reapers dream?" I asked. "I didn't see anything when I was–"

"Snoring like a bear?" he offered unhelpfully.

I punched him lightly in the arm. Maybe it was wrong to punch an injured person, but it wasn't like that was where he'd been shot.

"And you say my bedside manner is shit," he muttered. Leon shrugged it off and explained, "Well... it's more like memories."

"Good memories?"

"Not always. There are things I'd rather forget about my time on Earth. Most things, in fact. I imagine most people feel the same."

"Not everyone," I countered. "I mean, sure, I want to forget some stuff from my life – mostly the bit where I died – but it's not all bad."

"You think so? Fine. Tell me something you'd want to remember."

"If I do, will you rest?" I asked. "Because I'm not dealing with Tobias blaming me for your slow recovery."

"Maybe."

"Fine," I conceded, "but you have to tell me something good first."

"I tarred and feathered a servant once. I mean, it was honey, and we only got his hair, but I'll still count it."

"I meant something a little more meaningful," I laughed. "What's your favourite memory?"

"The day my son was born," he said without hesitation. "Best day."

"That's pretty hard to beat," I agreed, although it was hard to picture Leon as a father when he hardly seemed to possess the patience for the task. If he couldn't handle all my questions then he'd never have managed the inquisitive nature of a hyperactive toddler. "What was the worst?"

"The day I collected his soul. I almost didn't recognise the old man I was picking up, and he didn't know me. We were strangers."

"How did he not know his own father?" I asked.

"I died when he was a baby. He wouldn't remember that."

Not only had Leon died, but he'd committed suicide as a means of meeting his end. I felt like a monster for even considering mocking his death by the sword when I'd found out. Sure, it was still a convoluted way to end your life, but no one made that kind of a decision lightly. I mean, he'd had a family. A son. It followed that he'd also had a wife. Things must've been desperate for him if he'd decided to leave them behind in such a horrific way.

"Sorry," I said. "I shouldn't have asked."

"I agreed to the deal," Leon said. "I wouldn't have if it was difficult for me to talk about. Besides, that happened when I was a Reaper, so it's sort of cheating. But it's all you're going to get out of me, so you'll have to make do. What about you? Best and worst."

"Best was... Okay, there was this one time I went to see my grandparents. We saw them a few times a year, and usually, I would just hang out with my cousins. My sister was six and I was nine. My grandpa was ill, he had to have one of those air thingies that go in your nose, you know?"

"Is that the technical term for that piece of medical equipment?" Leon's lips tugged into a smile, and I hated that it suited him.

Without giving his jibe a second thought, I continued, "Anyway... He couldn't do a lot, but he saw I was on my own, so he made a loop of string with a button on it, span it around, and taught me how to do it. I was a natural at that thing. I still have it in my drawer in my bedroom. Well... had, I guess. That day is my favourite memory."

"I hate to think what the worst is if it has to be the polar opposite of something that good," Leon said. The subtle kindness was jarring coming from him. I'd expected him to poke fun at the idea that the best day of my life involved a button on a piece of string. "You can't say the day you died. It's cheating."

"You cheated."

"Yeah, but I'm your boss."

Given Leon had removed the option for an easy answer, I dug deep and thought back to a moment that I'd hoped never to relive. I drew in a deep breath and confessed, "The last time I saw him alive, I guess. The hospital room was busy with family, and everyone said he was getting better. So, when it was time to go home, it was difficult to get close to say goodbye. I just waved from the door and said I'd see him soon. A week later I was walking home from school and my mum came to meet me. She never did that," I laughed softly, "and she was such a bad liar. She was all 'I just wanted to meet you' and I just knew that he was gone. I wasn't ever going to see him again, and the last time I had I didn't get to tell him that I loved him. I barely even said goodbye." Tears welled in my eyes. I was quick to wipe them away. "Sorry. That's not as bad as yours, right?"

"How old were you?"

"Thirteen. Old enough to know better."

"You were a kid, Mackenzie."

"It was only about ten years ago," I reminded him. "For me, I mean. God knows how many years that is here."

"He was your grandpa. Even if you didn't say it, he knew."

"Everyone says that. It's hard to believe."

"Look...I'm not going to sit here and tell you that death doesn't suck. It does. And it doesn't get easier. But it happens to everyone." Leon leaned forwards and propped his elbows on his thighs. "Just for the record, not saying something one time doesn't erase all the times you managed to tell him that you loved him, and someone's death doesn't erase the life they lived."

A forced smile was easier than succumbing to the sadness of the memory. "Do they teach you that in Reaper school or something?"

"Or something."

"Thanks for the pep talk, boss." I slapped a hand against Leon's back. He groaned softly. "Oh. Right. Sorry. Know what also sucks? Feeling pain when you're dead."

"Yeah. Tell me about it." Leon reached down to place his hand over the healing wound. "Do me a favour. No more taking risks, okay? I need to survive long enough to torture you for getting me shot."

I nudged Leon's foot with mine. "I guess you should rest, then. Otherwise, it'll be a long time before you've got the strength to torture me. Besides, you promised."

"I said maybe," he corrected.

"Okay, new deal. You're gonna rest, or I'll put that bullet back in."

Leon laughed softly. First a smile, then a laugh? If he wasn't careful, he'd lose his reputation as the stoic male lead in our grumpy-meets-sunshine character arc. It suited him as well as his brief smile and my heart fluttered a little in my chest. It was probably gas or something. Maybe emotional vulnerability. The fact that my social circle and the dating pool had both shrunk significantly because I was dead might've played a contributing factor.

"Fine," he conceded. I stood from the sofa so that he could turn and stretch out. "But you need to stop snoring so damn loud. You'll wake the dead like that."

"You're lucky you're hurt so I can't punch you," I shot back.

"I'd like to see you try, idiot."

"Careful what you wish for. One day, I'll deliver on that threat."

"I look forward to it."