Stealing from children was bad behavior, even for a demon. But Marcus couldn't bring himself to feel sorry for stealing Stella's plastic cherry hair-tie because it gave him a small idea of how she was doing. He rushed to the mortal realm and into the hospital when he felt the connection go weak, when he felt the undeniable pull of death. He appeared in the ICU room and was shocked to find Mila wasn't there. Only Terry. Stella was seconds away from dying and Marcus started to leave, intent on finding Mila, but then Stell gasped.

Terry sat up and grabbed her hand, wiping his tears away with his other hand. Stella's eyes opened, her heartbeat growing steadier and stronger, her oxygen levels rising.

"What's going on?" Terry asked as a doctor stepped in, staring at Stella's monitors in confusion.

"She's... Improving," the doctor said, walking to Stella's side and smiling down at the little girl. "Hi there, I'm Doctor Mallory, how are you feeling?"

"I feel like I've been asleep a long time."

"Well, you definitely have," the doctor chuckled, crouching down. "Mind if I have a listen to those lungs?"

Stella shook her head and the doctor helped her sit up. He set the stethoscope on her chest, then her back, instructing her how to breathe each time. With every breath, his eyes grew wider. Her lungs sounded clear and strong.

"I uh... I'm going to order a chest x-ray," the doctor said, pulling back from Stella and staring down at her in amazement. "I need to have a look at her lungs."

"Is she getting worse?" Terry asked. The question was directed at the doctor but he couldn't stop looking at Stella. Her color was coming back, no longer ashen. She looked much more alert, awake, alive... More alive than he'd seen her in months.

"I'm hungry," Stella pouted, patting her stomach. "Can I have something to eat?"

"You're hungry?" Terry repeated. She'd been too queasy to eat for days. Her nutrients were coming from an IV, not from eating or drinking.

"I'm so hungry, I could eat a whole pizza by myself," Stella said, nodding decisively. "Where's sissy?"

Marcus was so caught up watching the exchange in shock, he almost forgot the reason he was here wasn't actually here. He glanced to the empty chair, the only evidence it was Mila's being the jacket draped over the back. He had to find her.

And yet, he couldn't. He went to her apartment and it was empty. He attempted to use her things to trace her but couldn't. Brief fear had him hunting down Lilith, worried Mila gave up her soul for a miracle. Unfortunately, that led nowhere because Lilith was in a terrible mood and nearly sent Marcus to the Praeteritus the moment she saw him.

Marcus was left with nothing but questions. He needed a better way to track her, and so he returned to hell. When he first became a demon, he collected every scroll and book he could to fully understand the expanse of his abilities. Tracking was in there somewhere and since his usual methods weren't working, he decided to refresh his memory on the different techniques.

He was flipping through another book in his collection when he felt another presence. The siblings of Death had a certain feel, so he recognized it immediately. What didn't make sense was for anyone attached to Death to visit him. He was already dead.

Then something hit him in the back of the head. Marcus frowned, rubbing his head and glancing down at the object. It was one of his shoes. A second object came flying and hit him in the back. He scowled and turned to the unfamiliar entity, sucking in a breath when he saw her standing there.

Mila was in front of him, in hell but not a demon. Instead, she had the grace and elegance of a sister of Death, an undeniable powerful aura around her that had all air escaping his lungs.

"Mila?" He asked, wondering if someone was playing a cruel trick on him. She was probably an apparition created by someone playing a prank, a trick of the eye. She had to be.

Except then she grabbed a glass off his end table and launched it at him. He narrowly dodged the cup, still staring at her in disbelief. An apparition or trick of the eye wouldn't be able to throw an object.

"You asshole," Mila hissed, picking up a book and launching that at Marcus. That one, he caught, but she was already picking up another object and hurling it at him. "You left me alone like a complete coward!" She said, picking up another object and throwing it. "With all this self-pity bullshit, oh I'm not good enough for you," she said in a mocking tone. "I'll only taint you," she continued with the taunting. "What kind of bullshit is that? Huh?"

"Mila," Marcus said, dodging another object, still staring in disbelief. "What..."

"No," Mila said, marching up to him and jabbing him in the chest. "You shut up. I'm not done. You don't get decide if I'm tainted, I do. You don't get to tell me who to be with or that you're not enough," she said, poking him again. "I fucking decide that and I decided you are but I'm still mad. So I love you, but you also better make shit up to me or I'll make you suffer for eternity. Literally. I can do that now, so when I say that," she said, stepping closer to him, her chest brushing against his as she glared up at him, "I mean I will make you suffer for eternity literally."

"You're here," Marcus said. His head was spinning both from her presence and by her words. I love you. No one ever said it to him like that before. The long-thought absent heart in his chest beat rapidly, replaying those words over and over again, memorizing her face as she glared up at him.

"Duh," Mila said, rolling her eyes and looking around. "Your cave is gross. Seriously, how can you give me shit for my apartment when your place is a mess?"

"I... I've been too depressed to do anything," Marcus said, furrowing his brows. He needed to say something else, but his mind was hardly working. It was stuck on an endless loop of repeating her words over and over again. I love you. Eternity. He never had to be without her again.

"Okay, well, after all the shit you gave me, I will not tolerate this," she said, gesturing around then crossing her arms.

"Mila," Marcus said, furrowing his brows, still unable to stop stating at her. "How are you here?"

"Death totally took me under her wing, super cool of her. Isn't this awesome?" Mila asked, spinning around, her black dress swishing around her ethereally. "It's like a death fairy or something. I look hot."

"You always look hot," Marcus said. "You always look beautiful."

Mila rolled her eyes and bit back the smile, then smacked his arm. "I'm still mad."

Marcus's brain was refusing to process fast enough for him to give her the proper response he wanted to, so he settled on physical actions. It was something they both understood and something he was much better at compared to words.

"I guess it's a good thing I have the rest of eternity to make it up to you."

His words came seconds before he had her in his arms again, dropping his lips down to hers. A sound of desperation escaped them both and Marcus tightened his arms around her. He thought he wouldn't see her again, wouldn't hold her again, and now that he was, he didn't intend to ever let go.