While the Eclipse dealt with keeping Ghost from getting too far gone, the Wiccan took it upon themselves to finally receive some answers. The others could afford to rest because there's so little they'd come to realize. For minds like Ryan and Ricky's that constantly work and wonder, they can never sleep. Not when they see the world for what it really is. 

Hera's headquarters were built like an optical illusion painting. There were staircases that twisted around in twenty different directions. Half the time you couldn't tell which way was up. Somehow, they managed to make out the path to Heart and Autopsy's private quarters. Much to their shock, there was no guard posted outside the door. So far, the criminals had shown them some respect. They repaid the favor by at least knocking.

Inside, the couple laid relaxed in their sensually lit bedroom. It was as fancy as you'd expect from criminal masterminds; A dramatic headboard, gold painting on white doors, silk over the windows. Autopsy sat up with a soft hum. He stretched his hands over his head, the sheets falling delicately from his chest.

"I suppose we must speak with them eventually. Might as well get it over with." He said.

"Yes," Heart sighed, "I suppose."

"Come in!" Autopsy mused to the door. 

It opened with ease, welcoming in the gloomy red haired figure. They weren't exactly fond of talking either, but it was better than fighting. The Wiccan shut the door quietly and locked it.

"We didn't mean to intrude on your private time, but we really can't wait any longer to speak with you." Ricky softly stated. In their relationship, it was pretty fair to say he was the good cop.

"It's quite alright. At least you caught us well after our fun has passed." Heart gestured towards the red and gold couch against the window. "Please, sit. How are you feeling?"

"We've been better, but the others are much worse. Ghost is very brokenhearted, and Chris and Kuza... Aside from their bodies being beat to shit, they're heading towards a catastrophic melt down. They're a ticking time bomb." Ricky elaborated.

"I suppose not everyone is capable of a flawless love. Very few get as lucky as us." Autopsy replied, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend's neck. 

"About that." Ryan grumbled, "We didn't come here to discuss the situation at hand. We'll need to wait until the others are in better health for that. We need to talk about what happened back at the prison. See, we got to thinking. How could someone who's not even a Lost One understand the body of a Laced One more than we do ourselves?"

"Then we heard what the others have said. Heart is an expert on our kind. The only other person we've met that had a considerable amount of knowledge on our species is Kuza, but he's one of us. What would you ever have to gain by knowing our history? And why would you go to so much effort to help us and the Eclipse?" 

Heart gritted his teeth, "Out with it, then."

"You two are Laced, aren't you?" Ryan seethed, spiteful towards their blatant lie.

"Well, we did manage to keep it hidden quite well for most our lives. Congrats on being the first to solve the mystery." Autopsy grinned. 

His dominant sighed, "Yes. We are. Are you happy? We are Laced Ones, but we keep it to ourselves because our kind is hunted here. Please, keep this between us."

"We will. Don't worry, but first, we want to see you for who you really are." Ricky replied.

"Very well. If you insist." He muttered. 

Heart didn't seem as thrilled about it as his lover. There seemed to be a grave difference between their personalities. Autopsy managed to preserve a playfulness, whereas it was clear Heart had become scorned well beyond repair. They still made a perfect couple, obviously. Their souls had a harmony too beautiful for words. Perhaps that's why they could manage to stay split for so long. Unfortunately, Ricky and Ryan highly doubted that was it.

Autopsy crawled into his boyfriend's lap, resting his arms over his shoulders. Heart traced his hands up his ribs and gently kissed him. His fingertips continued behind Autopsy's back. Suddenly the gravity around them shifted briefly when Heart released one of his pulses. It almost looked like the ripples formed when a pebble falls in a pond. When the visual distortion settled, only one being remained.

Their hair was split down the middle; one side Heart's silvery-grey, the other Autopsy's jet black. Their bands fell over their eyes and the two sides parted outwards from each other. Like most Laced Ones, their hair was also remarkably long. The ends were gently curled much like how Autopsy's whole head was in his singular state. His black and grey Japanese traditional tattoos also remained on their arms and chest. 

"Why do you hide this? Yes, we are hunted, but surely you're strong enough to fight whatever would come for you." Ricky said.

"Trust us, this is for the best." Heart replied.

"When you separated us, we were barely apart for two minutes before our skin began to rot. How can you remain apart for so long?" Ryan asked, "You were kept in different prison cells for a year."

"You build up a tolerance to it. When we first crossed over and turned into this, it didn't take long for Heart to figure out he could use his Arcadia to separate us. We spent as much time as we could forcing our bodies to be okay with being apart. Plus, the longer you're in the underworld, the more you become accustom to it's magic. It's easier to work with, in a way." Autopsy explained.

"Then, I suppose, our final question is... Can you teach us to separate without Heart's Arcadia?"

| | |

Kuza stared up at a ceiling he could barely see. It was very, very blurry and dark. Still, he could see a little bit. It wasn't enough to actually get anywhere despite what he'd like to hope for. At least there was an ounce of a chance that his sight was coming back. His ears hadn't stopped ringing since what happened. Now, he was just used to it.

"You awake?" Chris muttered.

"Unfortunately." He grumbled. The last thing he wanted to do was talk to him. Their caregiver didn't seem to be around right now, so looks like they're finally going to have to face up this conversation.

"Mike, I- I'm sorry for what I did to Casper. Back then, I was-"

He sighed, "Shut the fuck up. I don't want to fucking hear your excuses."

"Hey, at least I'm fucking trying to apologize. You don't know the meaning of the word. And even after all the shit you've said to me and how you've treated me, I still saved your goddamn ass back there!" 

"Oh, big whoop. You're my fucking hero. Mind telling me what the fuck happened back there? How you just pulled those powers out of your ass? Might've been nice if you used that all the previous times we almost fucking died." 

"We were living on a planet in an eternal winter, jackass." Chris sneered, "My curse was useless then, so I never used it. And when we came here, you were so set on being the brave protector that you never gave me a chance to help. Regardless, it completely drains me to use it."

"You still lied to me. You kept something fucking huge from me! How am I supposed to trust you after that? Is there anything else you'd like to divulge?" Kuza scoffed.

"Oh, you're one to talk about lying-"

"Gentlemen," Cromwell's strong voice interrupted, "I'd hate to break up your little reunion, and I understand you don't have your sight to know this, but you are not the only patients in this room. Covey is in much worse shape than either of you as well and he needs his rest." 

"I'm sorry. I didn't know." Chris replied.

"It's alright. I know you didn't, but I believe it's for the best if I separate you two for awhile. I'm not too comfortable with the idea that I could step out again and come back to you two yelling at each other while Covey is trying to rest." 

"I could use a change of scenery anyways." Kuza muttered.

"You can't even see anything." His partner replied. 

"It was a figure of speech." He snapped.

"Cromwell." Covey sighed his name simply. It was all he needed to know what his brother was thinking.

The towering medicine man placed his hand on Kuza's shoulder and gently guided him to sit up. "Come. I don't have another room for patients, but I can give you my room for the time being. It isn't much, but it'll work. Careful, take it slow." He instructed him as he stood up.

"Thank you. It's nice to have someone care." He mumbled.

"When we're both better, I'm going to kick your fucking ass." Chris hissed.

Cromwell was about tempted to do it himself. Most his patients are usually too sick to speak, let alone fight. He tried his best to help move Kuza out as fast yet as safely as possible. Of course he struggled, not being able to see and not knowing his surroundings. The man that held his hand offered a sense of security that he hadn't felt in a long time.