^Calypso's point of view^

I laid on my bed next to Stitches, both of us mildly frustrated with getting Mercy's outfit right. The skirt was done, Stitches and I were working on a lace design to take to Angel, I had made the vest and the jacket with Stitches helping. Mercy already owned a shirt and a bow tie that would work.

"We're dyeing the skirt." Stitches decided. "White washes Mercy out, so we gotta alter it so she doesn't look like she's actually dead. None of us have really tried dying yet, but I have come close."

"Do you want to talk about it?" I asked cautiously.

"I was only curious about what would happen. A bunch of my friends were experimenting. Apparently since some were already dead, they could cut off limbs and be fine. Those of us who were hellborn were not as eager to try to die, but I thought about it." Stitches rambled absently as he took the skirt off the mannequin and grabbed the red acid dye.

"Oh. Well. Interesting." I said awkwardly, not quite knowing what to say. I got off the bed and dug out the gloves to protect our skin.

"Most of my friends are stupid, can you tell?" Stitches asked teasingly. I nodded cautiously. "Speaking of, can I consider you my bestest friend who I trust so much?"

"Weren't we already bestest friends? I thought that was an unspoken agreement between us." I said, opening the storage room to dig out the big plastic washbasin I bought for dyeing fabrics.

"Maybe it was. I don't remember." Stitches agreed. "Wait, we were on the same friendship level as Pops and Aunt Cherry for most of high school and middle school, right?"

"Yeah, we were. I don't know what happened between our graduation and now." I said, opening the cabinet. "Salt bath or vinegar bath?"

"Salt." Stitches replied, filling the washbasin with water. I dumped some salt into the thing and put on the rubber gloves, handing Stitches a pair. "Thank you. By the way...how is making your outfit going?" Stitches asked.

"I have a pattern for the pieces of fabric. We need to go fabric shopping for lavender fabric with no pattern." I told him as he threw the skirt into the water. I dumped in some dye and stirred the thing. "Set a timer."

"So...we going to JoAnn's?" Stitches asked.

"You know it, bitch." I replied.

"So...about the dying thing...do you think the way I die would affect my appearance?" Stitches asked.

"Well, I know there would be a mark indicating how. It might dull out your features a little bit if you drown, like how Lily looks, and you might have marks around your mouth or where your lungs are. It might have an x where you're shot, like Alastor. Drugs might give you some neons, like Angel. If you're strangled, there are a few things that could happen to your appearance, such as greyish skin or a brightly colored mark around your neck." I rambled, stirring the fabric in the dye.

"Huh. Interesting." Stitches said, clearly contemplating something. "What if I drank bleach or got the plague?"

"I imagine you would have marks around your mouth and interesting colors in your skin." I said slowly, rightfully concerned. "Are you thinking about dying?"

"All of us have to try dying at least once, Cal. I was thinking of how I would go out." Stitches muttered. "I've been suicidal, this isn't new musings, this is routine."

"Oh good lord, do you need to have a word with Mercy's intern or something?"

"No, no, I think Death's gonna have to wait. Death is like having children. Some people want to have it, others don't, others wait patiently until they are ready." Stitches explained. "I've been tempted in a different direction however. I want to grow old with Prince. I can't exactly do that, since I am immortal because of my heritage. Hellborn demon, I am. It's a painful thing, watching Prince grow older without me." Stitches huffed bitterly.

I watched him with a different type of caution at this point in our conversation. I knew he loved Prince with his very existence and he would give Prince the world if he was asked to. I could see why. Prince was a very sweet man, withdrawn from conversation most of the time until he was in costume. Very kind and shy, with a hint of trauma, and a dash of a mother-hen-like love for people who knew him well.

"I think Prince knows that I'm bred to look not a day over sixteen, it's supposed to help me tempt mortals to sin. If I could just live and age until Prince died so we could stay together..." Stitches sighed longingly.

"Ah. I'm sorry." I said.

There was a heavy silence in between us, the only sound being the sound of the fabric being moved around in the water.

"The apples in Lucifer's garden make demons and angels mortal." I told him, except I didn't. I wanted him to know that, but I didn't want to see him suffer a mortal life as opposed to having powers as a demon. I felt guilty, but I also knew that he would probably complain no matter how I tried to help.

"It's not your fault." Stitches told me, lifting the skirt out of the water and holding it up. "We could've stained this with blood and got this done faster."

"Blood turns brown."

"Nevermind then."