Cobalt had never in his entire life had a worse time at the breakfast table. After catching the girls red-handed trying to sneak into his room the previous night, he had to return to Quinn's room - whom he had the foresight to swap with - and make sure that he bolted the door tight. Not one to be put down, Elya then again tried to accost him in his sleep, this time attempting to gain access to his room from outside by climbing in through the window. Unlike his dorm room back at the school, the windows of his childhood home had intact locks, and thus the Fallen was forced to merely squat on his windowsill and stare at him. Having one of his old schoolfriend's mostly-naked body displayed right outside his window was of course a harrowing experience, but the Incubus eventually managed to overcome it by just turning over and trying to go back to sleep.

Once morning broke, the real trouble began. With the Trayer household lacking a stairlift, Cobalt was forced to ask Izzbelle for help in ferrying both himself and his wheelchair down to the ground floor. To her credit, the Oni obliged him, but she refused to even make eye-contact with him, ashamed of the previous night's escapades. For breakfast, Jezebel served a wonderful fry-up, but the Incubus wasn't feeling particularly hungry. What he was feeling was a sensation of intense disappointment directed towards his family, and they could all feel it. None of his sisters met his gaze as they tucked into their bacon and eggs, save for Violet, who just looked exasperated. His mother tried to spark some conversation, but it was clear that the mood at the breakfast table was not a jovial one.

His family's plans had been thwarted, his students had all been embarrassed, and Cobalt was starting to consider never staying the night at his mother's place again.

Once breakfast was over, the Incubus made his excuses and left, before even any of the girls departed for the school.

He figured it would be best to leave them alone for the day and hope they forgot anything happened at all.

After all, he was doing the same.

Brimstone, unfortunately, was not a terribly modern town. It was miles ahead of Phrodival - which still lacked electricity and central heating in most buildings - but in regards to disability access, it meant that Cobalt was at a heavy disadvantage. Unable to get into any cafés, enter any entertainment venues or even get up the library steps, the Incubus eventually found himself in the park, holding a rather disappointing club sandwich that he bought from a street vendor. Without an income, his future lunchtime prospects were looking bleak.

"I really ought to be setting assignments today..." he muttered to himself, slowly trundling down the path towards the lake.

Obviously his first instinct was to throw himself into his work, but returning to the school campus ran the risk of running into any of the girls. And Cobalt was far to ashamed of his family's intrusive antics to speak with any of them at that point in time.

He could only imagine what they had been put up to. He could almost understand how Lottie or Whitney could be manipulated into something like that, and both Karazelle and Elya would hardly need any convincing to harass him. But Jelli? Izzbelle? Why the Hell did they go along with it?

"Ugh... just stop thinking about it, Trayer. You can bet Mom certainly didn't," he stated dourly, taking a bite of his sandwich.

Reaching the lake, he was about to sit back and watch the waterfall when his phone began to ring. Absentmindedly, he answered it.

"Hello? Cobalt Trayer speaking."

"It seems a little bluebird has finally wandered back into my domain~!"

He nearly choked.

"A- Alison?! How the Hell do you-?!"

"Give me some credit, bluebell! First thing I did was rig cameras all over the park!"

Glancing around warily, he tore into the final few bites of his lunch and swallowed hard.

"You know I still haven't forgiven you for the Autumn Festival, right?" Cobalt grumbled.

"I told you countless times that I'm sorry! What am I gonna have to do for you to forgive me? Send a fruit basket? Write a poem in your honour? Perform a dogeza at your feet?" the scientist sighed dramatically.

The Incubus rolled his eyes.

"Alison, one can't-"

"A naked dogeza?"

"- one can't exactly forgive the reckless actions of another so easily when said actions resulted in one losing the ability to walk!" he grumbled, rubbing his eyes.

She giggled in a threatening manner.

"But what if I told you that I had something here that would definitely make up for that? And you have nowhere to be right now, correct?"

"How can you know that?"

"Be real here. Would a worker bee such as yourself really be eating tuna and sweetcorn in the park if he had things that needed doing?"

Cobalt frowned. She made a fair point. Faced with the prospect of either returning to B.I.D. and having to relive the embarrassment of the previous night or giving the rogue human in life a chance to atone for her mistakes, the Incubus was more than willing to pick up the olive branch.

He sighed.

"... Fine. Unlock your doors, I'll be right down..."

-----

Alison had been busy ever since Cobalt began giving her the silent treatment. She had smoothed out her underground lab's entranceway somewhat, converting it into a downwards-sloping corridor that accommodated his wheelchair quite nicely. As for the main chamber, it was clear that she had focused most of her efforts there.

The ground had been covered in numerous rubber mats, and most of the errant wires that Cobalt saw on his previous visit had been neatly bound and bundled along the chamber's perimeter. Alison had finally installed a proper lighting system, and most of the computer monitors had been bolted to the far wall above her collection of desks, each displaying diagnostical diagrams or security feeds from cameras she had installed all over town. Scientific worktables and engineering benches ringed the outside of the lab, and most of the metal scrap and electrical waste that the human had accumulated had been shoved into bins that lay over on the lab's other side. Finally, above the pool table that she seemed to be using as some kind of central fixture, Alison Titch had built a huge mechanical claw that she attached to the ceiling, the purpose of which eluded the Incubus.

"Like it?" called the scientist, reading his clearly-amazed face.

He looked over at the living space she had dug into the bedrock. It was no longer just a nest of random fabrics; it boasted a pullout couch, a minifridge and a television, all of which had clearly been stolen from a downtown furniture outlet.

"It certainly makes an impression..." Cobalt sighed, eyeing up the claw.

"Good! That's what I was going for!" she cried, leaping out of her couch.

Rushing over to one of her desks, she tapped a few keys on a keyboard that she had soldered to its surface. The screens briefly flashed before they all switched to displaying what appeared to be various medical records.

"Gotta say, the local hospital has some pretty shitty cybersecurity. What's the deal with Hell tech being so damn basic? I wouldn't be surprised if you still use dial-up modems," she commented, typing furiously.

The Incubus shook his head.

"Never mind modems or whatever; what the bloody Hell are you doing hacking into private medical records?!" he cried, wheeling closer in order to gaze at the screens.

Alison just shrugged.

"I only wanted access to their systems to see if this town had any marijuana dispensaries. But since I was there, I decided to take a looksee at your files."

"What?!"

"There was a lot to go through. You got hurt a lot as a kid. Like, shitloads. Look at this."

She brought up a few files, each dated from around about the time Cobalt had attended B.I.D. According to them, he had been admitted to hospital for all sorts of injuries; fractures, burns, lacerations... None of which he remembered sustaining. Even worse, there was records of him undergoing some kind of surgery around about the date of his final third-year exams, but the Incubus had no memory of such a procedure.

"Wait. Can you zoom in on that?" he asked, pointing to the final document.

Alison obliged, blowing the image up onscreen. All it detailed was the date of his admittance, the date of the operation, and the date of his discharge. The rest had been redacted. Heavily.

"What the...?"

"You don't bear any kinda surgical scars from what I saw when I gave you a once-over. What do you think this is about?" Alison queried, rubbing her chin.

"I- I don't know..."

With a shake of her singed head, she pulled the medical documents off the screen.

"Well, it's a mystery for another time. I was more interested in your current predicament," she said, opening a drawer and pulling out what looked like a heavily-modified gaming joystick.

Pressing a red button on the side, she began to move it about, grinning maniacally. With an almighty screech, the massive metal claw on the ceiling lurched downwards with frightening speed, latching around the Incubus' chest in no time at all. With his arms pinned to his sides, he could only wriggle and shout in protest as Alison carefully hoisted him out of his wheelchair and dumped him belly-first on the pool table.

"What the Hell are you doing?!" Cobalt cried, struggling to get up.

He was too slow, however, as she suddenly darted forward. With a pair of fluffy handcuffs, Alison chained his wrists to the legs of the table, leaving him helpless.

"You'd be surprised how handy BDSM gear is when it comes to surgery," she stated with a grin, maneuvering the claw back into place.

"Alison, let me go right this instant!" the Incubus retorted, struggling against his bindings.

She responded with a tut and a shake of her head. Disappearing out of his field of vision for a brief moment, the scientist soon returned with a medical cart in tow, laden with all sorts of tools. Scalpels, needles, forceps, a bone saw, hammers, a cement saw, a cattle prod, two kidney dishes and a policeman's service revolver. At the sight of these instruments of torture, Cobalt's blood ran cold.

"Wh- What's all this for...?" he breathed, breaking out into a sweat.

Swapping out her arm-length leather gloves for a pair of latex ones, the mad scientist slipped her welding goggles on and grinned, brandishing a syringe.

"Nothing~. Now - contrary to what any lover of yours is gonna feel - you, bluebell, might feel a little~ prick."

She unceremoniously jammed the needle deep into Cobalt's spinal column. For a split second, an unholy, searing pain flashed across the entire length of his back, causing the Incubus to shriek. As quickly as it occurred, however, everything dulled, and before he knew it, he could no longer feel anything from his midriff down.

"There there, bluebell, easy does it..." he heard Alison coo, though her voice was beginning to twist and distort.

"What are... you doing, you... suh... son of a... buh..."

Unable to keep his eyes open any longer, the Incubus' head slumped forward, taken once more by the cold clutches of unconsciousness.

~~~~~

Burning wood, old books and dust. It was a smell that was strangely familiar.

Groggily, Cobalt opened his eyes, dimly surprised to find himself sitting in a leather armchair, facing a roaring fire in some kind of literature-filled study. His mind drew a blank for the first few moments, before it suddenly came to him. With a groan, the Incubus rubbed his eyes, figuring that Alison had once again put his body at extreme risk, forcing his consciousness to recede back into his Deepest Refuge.

"Once more unto the breach..." he muttered to himself, patting down his grey robes as he eased himself out of the chair.

Nothing much had changed about the place itself. The study was still filled to bursting with old tomes, and they were all still blank, every last one. The pile of torn paper was still in the corner, though its occupant was nowhere to be seen.

"Back again so soon?," spoke a hauntingly familiar voice from the doorway.

Wheeling around, Cobalt turned to face the entrance, only to find that the door was laying ajar. In front of it sat the black cat he met during his previous visit, its eyes still a piercing shade of emerald.

"I didn't really have much of a choice," the Incubus grumbled, relaxing somewhat.

The cat turned and coiled around the door, flicking its tail.

"Many of us rarely do. A consequence of a cyclical timeframe; we are doomed to repeat our mistakes until one of the lucky few with the freedom of choice nudges us onto a different path," it replied, disappearing through the door.

Raising an eyebrow, Cobalt stepped forward and flung it open. Rather than returning to consciousness like previously, however, the Incubus found himself staring down a stately hallway, lined on both sides with padlocked doors.

"I don't follow you," he said, warily eyeing up his surroundings as he stepped out of the study.

More books lay scattered about the fine wood floor, as well as stacked upon some of the small tables and chairs set tastefully beneath the blank canvases that hung on the walls.

"And yet here you are, following my every footstep."

"Again, not much of a choice on my part. You seem to have a better idea of what goes on in here than I do."

The cat laughed.

"On the contrary, I cannot begin to fathom the machinations of your mind. After all, it's yours and yours alone."

It sat down in front of a door by the end of the hallway, this one different from the others in that its padlock lay broken on the floor.

"Um... cat?" Cobalt asked, glancing back at the feline.

"Not my preferred name, but yes?"

"If this is my mind - my Deepest Refuge - then why is it so... bare?"

It licked its paws for a moment before answering.

"I beg to differ. Clearly someone has gone through a lot of effort to stage such tasteful furniture," it answered, leaping up onto a stately chair.

The Incubus swallowed hard and gazed at the picture frame hanging above it. It was large and bore a nameplate like a portrait painted for an aristocrat, but the picture itself was blank, and the plate had been scoured clean.

"The pictures, the books... I don't get it..." he murmured to himself.

The cat lay down, ready to sleep.

"You don't have to get it. You just need to see things as being okay."

It chuckled.

"But for an Incubus, well..."

Cobalt turned to the unlocked door and placed his hand upon the handle.

"... it's naught but a lie, isn't it?"

Shaking his head, he pulled the door open, and stepped out into the light.

~~~~~

With a great snort rather unbecoming of him, Cobalt was shocked awake. Bleary-eyed, he gazed around at his surroundings, figuring that he hadn't been moved since Alison knocked him out. He was still lying face-down on the pool table, his wrists bound by fluffy handcuffs. All that had changed was that his shirt had been cut off him, and his back was hurting like it had never hurt before.

"Ugh... Damn you, Titch..." the Incubus grumbled, clenching his fists.

He struggled and strained, and though his wrists began to hurt after a while, he eventually managed to snap the chain on his right cuff. One hand free, he made short work of the other one, whereupon he took a deep breath and rolled off the table.

Cobalt struck the rubber mat on the floor rather unceremoniously, but at that moment, he wasn't concerned by the gracelessness of his landing. He felt the shock reverberate through his whole body; legs included.

"No way..."

Eyes wide, he looked down. Slowly, the Incubus rotated his ankles, stunned by how responsive they were. His jaw hung open as he brought his knees up, eyes growing wider as he rolled onto his front, braced his legs, and stood up. He was weak, and he was shaky, but with a little support from the bloodstained pool table, Cobalt Trayer stood up.

"I- I can stand..."

He looked around. Alison had left bloodstained surgery tools all over the place, including a rather frightful cement saw that sat on the edge of the table. Swallowing hard, he took a few shaky steps forward, one foot in front of the other.

"I- I can walk...!"

Footsteps echoed off the ground from somewhere behind him.

"Ta-dah! Told you I'd make up for it!" called the cheery voice of Alison Titch.

He turned around to face her. Though the human was smiling brilliantly, it was clear from the bags under her eyes and the blood staining her coat that she had just performed one Hell of a procedure. She slowly approached him, hands hidden behind her back.

"How did you...?" Cobalt guttered, reaching back to feel the clean scars she left along his lower spine.

"Shush, shush now! Shut your eyes!" Alison commanded, stamping her feet.

To bewildered to say now, Cobalt did as he was told. He heard her giggle, before something heavy was placed into his hands.

"Now... open them!"

He did.

There, clasped in his shaking hands, was a clear mason jar, sealed at the top with rubber. It was filled with some kind of preservative fluid, and within floated a pair of vertebrae. One was badly cracked, whilst the other had been completely fragmented.

"A little memento of your tumble off the roof that night," Alison piped, patting his shoulder as she went to clear up the mess she had made.

His eyes widened.

"Th- These are mine...?!"

"Pfft, yeah. Those two little bastards were the reason you were stuck in that chair. Couldn't fix them as they were, so I pulled them out and gave you two, shiny new ones."

Stunned, Cobalt reached behind himself and felt up his back. Sure enough, the base of his spine was feeling a lot more... solid.

"A- Alison, I- I don't know what to say..." the Incubus breathed, tearing his eyes away from his old vertebrae.

Hoisting the bloodied saw off the central pool table, the exhausted scientist just flashed him a grin.

"It was nothing. I figured that you've done enough for me, so I may as well give you a little something to pay you back. Plus, with the extra reinforcement I did, you should have no trouble carrying heavier loads now!" she cried happily, wiping the circular blade clean.

The Incubus blanched.

"E- Extra what now?"

"What, you didn't think a genius of my calibre was just gonna leave you as you were, did you? Come on, bluebell, I thought you knew me better!"

"Wh- What did you do?!"

"Oh, it's just a little spinal reinforcement, nothing to freak out over."

True enough, he did feel a little stronger. Swallowing his protests, Cobalt just lifted the mason jaw to the light and smiled uneasily.

"Well, um..."

He sighed.

"Thank you, Alison."