Twenty seconds passed too quickly, but at the exact moment they did Letha's pride forced her to peel away from Mickey. He let her go reluctantly, keeping in contact until she had stepped bodily out of reach. Her eyes darted to her brother's prone form, watching his chest rise and fall as Min took his pulse and laid a hand across his forehead. She didn't want to be grateful: she wanted to rage and rail against the hypocrisy of the woman who had kidnapped her nursing her brother back to health. But she was too bloody tired. So when the woman looked over her shoulder, an amazed expression on her face, Letha simply nodded.

"Thank you."

This was a day of stunning revelations for Mickey; he'd never expected to hear her say those words. But he swallowed heavily, tried not to think about the sudden cold against his chest where her warm, thin frame had left his, and also nodded.

"We should leave," he said softly, "before your fath..." Letha stiffened and he skirted the word. "Before the others come back."

She glanced at the open door behind them, confusing creeping onto her face from beneath the weariness. "I don't know where they could be. I had thought h-they'd be here, gloating and..."

Her head swung back to her brother, and then she squeezed her eyes tight. As if even looking at him hurt her. "This isn't over," she intoned gravely, fist clenching at her side, "But I'm never bringing him back here. He's free now." Her eyes opened suddenly, staring into Mickey's and right into his soul. "No matter what."

He agreed with a nod and a sudden urgency infiltrated the room. He walked purposefully to Hadrian's bed and scooped his thin body up in his arms. He was a long kid, but weighed next to nothing. Without thinking on that too long, Mickey swivelled and led the way out of the room. He felt more than saw the others fall in behind him as he thudded down the stairs, just as he felt it when Letha stopped. He paused at the bottom and turned back.

"What are you doing?" He asked softly, not quite comfortable enough to talk properly. Letha was right; it didn't make sense for the Sins not to be here. And he wasn't going to push his luck by speaking at full volume.

She didn't reply for a moment, long enough that all four of them were staring up at her before she lifted a hand. "Just give me a moment. I have to get something."

It was strange, Mickey decided, but the urge to chase after her wasn't there anymore. She could handle it; he'd probably just get in the way. And even if he wasn't, she'd berate him as if he were. Whatever it was, he knew she could handle it. Some strange peace came over him and he decided that he hadn't been lying when he said he had faith in Letha Antitheus.

Completely unaware that she was at the center of someone else's epiphany, Letha turned and marched to the end of the corridor. This time, she didn't watch her footsteps, didn't check that each step was secure; her life was already falling apart at the seams so what more could a little structurally unsound architecture do?

Taking the questionable steps two at a time, she pushed through the door at the top and went straight to the chest. The leotard was thrown behind her, the wedding dress gripped in both her hands and shaken until the picture fluttered from beneath it's skirts. She snatched it up, accidentally creasing the corner, and then held in reverently in her palms. She stared down at her mother's tiny, faded face and wondered briefly whether she looked down on them or not? Or up... She shook off the thought; if the woman had any luck, she wouldn't have to watch their misery at all.

She clambered to her feet, tucking the picture into her pocket, and turned only to come face-to-face with a very angry nun. Letha startled, pulse leaping at her throat, but she fought hard to keep the reaction from showing. The old woman sneered at her, circling her gently at a half-pace, half-glide.

Letha let out a huff of air. "I don't have time for this, Sister Julianna. Say your piece and then leave me in peace!"

"Peace? For you?" The old ghost cackled, "Not likely after everything you've done! After everything you've helped your father do..."

Letha didn't have to put up with this; she strode towards the door. Some deep, masochistic part of her bubbled to the surface and took up the argument though. "I thought this God of yours was supposed to be forgiving?"

Something cold brushed against, or through, Letha's neck but she refused to turn around and find out what.

"To those who are worthy - What have you done to earn the Lord's mercy?"

A tiny smile lit up the girl's face. "Nothing yet... but I plan to kill my father tonight." Then she was clattering down the stairs, unsure and uncaring of whether the nun heard her, and out onto the landing. She rattled down the stairs, stumbling out the front door and into the afternoon light. Mickey, still nursing her brother, and the others were crowded on the front lawn. Chloe was standing near Hadrian's lolling head, standing on tiptoes to peer into his slack face. Letha wasn't familiar with the expression she wore, but took it as a good sign and ignored it.

"Let's get out of here," she called, putting some more speed behind her walk and moving quickly to the other side of the car. Mickey hefted her brother into the very back row, Chloe and the brunette - Emma - clambering in behind him, and then pushed his seat into place and swung in. Min and Brad followed and they pulled away from the curb within seconds. Letha cast an involuntary look behind them and stared curiously. It looked smaller...

"Smaller?" Mickey asked quietly, and Letha curse herself for not watching her tongue.

"Yes; less big," She clarified harshly. She had to hide her answering smirk behind a hand as he grinned at her response.

Brad interrupted with a flat question: "Where am I driving?"

Both teens were in agreement. "29 Worthington Street."

Min must have plugged it into her phone, because he never asked for directions. Emma seemed to be zoned out in the back, head resting against the side of the car and Hadrian's head resting on her shoulder. He stirred a few minutes into the ride and Chloe patted his head gently. Twisting in her seat to watch the exchange, Letha's brow furrowed.

"What's his name?" The little girl asked quietly, eyes wide with curiosity as they looked up at her.

"Hadrian."

"And he's your brother?"

Letha nodded.

Chloe nodded sagely. Then she peeked up from under long lashes. "Does he have a girlfriend?"

Watching a smile curl on Mickey's lips in her peripheral vision, Letha blinked at the question. "He wants to go bowling with some boys," was her only response.

"Does he have a boyfriend?" Letha had to hand it to the kid; she adapted quickly.

She shook her head. "I think he has a crush on Sarah." Letha honestly didn't know why she was talking, but something in her wanted to prove she knew something, anything, about her brother's life.

That answer brought a frown to Chloe's face. "I hate Sarah," she grumbled.

Bemused, Letha looked to Mickey for help but the ass just grinned and shrugged.

A groan from Hadrian distracted his sister again and when his eyes blinked open she had a hard time keeping the relieved smile off her face. Judging from the look Mickey was giving her, she didn't even partially succeed.

At that point, she didn't even partially care.

"If you ever do that to me again," she said carefully when his eyes were fully open and the dazed expression had faded a bit, "I will make you regret it."

He nodded and then cringed as his vision swam. The car came to a sudden stop and he paled even further. Looking up with angry words on her lips for the poor driving, Letha realised they were actually already at Mickey's house. Turns out it was a lot closer when you weren't on foot. She slid out and then helped her brother, putting an arm around his waist as they moved towards the house.

Azrael met them at the front door. He looked curiously from Letha and her brother to Mickey, and then appeared even more confused by the other 4.

"How can we help?" he asked cautiously, apparently satisfied that they were all still alive.

Letha tried to keep her gaze from flicking to Mickey's but she was unsuccessful. She met his dark eyes, saw the question in them; what did she want them to do? She didn't need to be asked a third time.

"I need you to help me kill my father."