I would know you anywhere. You're my brother. My eyes are bleary from my dream of death and my consciousness runs babbling like a spring-flood stream through my head, but I still know you. My protector. My saviour. And such a boob.

* * * * *

Why are we here? Why have we stopped? Should be lost in the woods. Hiding. Hands of blue. They'll never stop coming. They want back what you took. I took nothing. They took it all. Christmas and stockings. Kept digging in my head with their probes and drills. Unimaginable pain. Not just of the flesh but of the heart. Inexpressible, impotent rage at what they were doing to us. Awash with the guilt of the powerless. Make it stop!

This is not home. But home turned inside out. Safer outside because within all is fear and danger, dust and shadows. The apple was full of worms and the bits won't stay down. All that remains of the garden is scorched earth. Home is lost forever. The people we were - just ghosts.

Cold. So cold. Like a frozen corpse on a winter battlefield..Every muscle aching from the lack of warmth. Skin crying for a loving touch. No touching. Your rule. Freeze to death first.

Has to be cold. Temporary cessation of the vital functions requires freezing. Suspend high level functions. Just survive. Keep breathing. For now, it's enough.

Freezing once the method of choice for preservation. Preferred to canning. But got a can too. Boxed inside a metal shell. Curled up inside like a tortoise hiding from attackers. Soft underside hidden from talons and teeth.

We've seen so much, it's aged us fast. And yet we're brand new. Like babies, trailing clouds of glory from.... God? Omnipotent, benevolent God? The premise is contradictory, based on false logistics. Doesn't make sense.

Naked as a newborn child. We come into this world with nothing. We leave with nothing. None of the rest of it means a damn thing. Spend half our lives dressing up like gorram dolls in costumes that don't fit. Then spend the next half fighting to keep them on. But life strips us down. Back to our essence. Can't pretend then.

* * * * *

Suddenly it's all light and noise. I should be sleeping but there's too much screaming. Strange voices I don't know, raised in anger and fear.

“Huh.”

A sandpaper-edged truffle-centred voice. Chocolate. Bitter yet still sweet. Hard but yearning for dissolution, absolution. A chocolate soldier, wrapped in foil. Afraid of the warmth lest it melt you. No touching.

Where has all this hate come from? Why don't they understand? Are they fighting over me? They mustn't, they mustn't....

Piercing scream slides into my ear like a sharpened knitting needle. Panic rising in me. Another scream of pure terror. The screams are mine.

Then a voice I know and Simon has me in his arms, cooing soothing platitudes as though he really can heal me. Make me better. Don't be afraid. I'm right here.

“What the hell is this?”

You come into focus and I look up into your eyes. Past the pain, the lost faith, anger and fear. Through to the strength and unquenched love. How can you not know me? I am your sister.