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The Boogieman stood at the top of a trash-strewn ridge, looking down at the girl as she worked. She was just finishing tying the salvaged fishing nets around the mass of plastic that would serve as a pontoon for the makeshift raft. An interesting idea, certainly, and one that he certainly wouldn't have been able to come up with on his own. He knew nothing about building boats, let alone how to fashion one out of the multitude of human rubbish that surrounded them. And yet, the skill was one that she somehow possessed. For some reason, she was able to understand what would float well, what would make a good support structure, what would be waterproof, what could capture the wind. And in turn, she told him what to look for, and together, the two of them had found everything they needed on this ruined island, discovered that there was a treasure trove of useful material in all the garbage that surrounded them. The little boat had grown from a vague idea in her head to a concrete reality in the span of a week. He was nothing short of amazed.

How could a frail, insignificant human manage to do such a thing? How could she find a way out of such an utterly hopeless situation when he himself could not? His kind regarded humans as little more than souls to be harvested, a sort of spiritual "cattle in the fields," and yet, one of them had managed to do something that was completely beyond his power, sparing him from a long, slow death by starvation in the process. It..it made no sense, and yet, here it was. He had always been quick to dismiss the "wonders" and "marvels" mankind was supposedly capable of as so much bluster and hot air, and yet now…he was beginning to think that perhaps there was a reason why their souls were considered so valuable.

He shook himself, trying to banish the unwelcome thoughts from his mind. He hadn't come here to stand around and ponder yet ANOTHER reason why the damn girl confused him. He'd merely come to let her know he was finished with his latest task and see if she was finished with hers. The sun was going down, and that meant that work would soon cease for the day. He could see in the dark, but she could not, and so they usually headed back to the shelter before the fading light and lengthening shadows made footing treacherous for her. There was already food waiting for them there, a small portion of the multitude of prey he had caught this afternoon, and he had even cooked it for her, finding the act of making a fire and roasting meat to be easier and easier with each attempt. The rest of the animals he had caught would be cleaned the next morning, and their meat put out in the sun to dry, since she said that that would help keep it from spoiling on their long journey. He had to guard the meat during the process, since the thousands of seagulls on the island felt no reluctance to eat their own kind and would have mobbed the trays of drying meat if he wasn't there to protect them. They sometimes did anyway, but he always made them think better of it (and sometimes bagged a couple of easy kills in the process). He sometimes felt like the girl's servant, since when he wasn't catching and preparing their supplies, he was finding building materials for the boat or doing heavy lifting for her, but he had to remind himself that they both wanted to get off the island and she was doing most of the work on the boat. He was simply doing the work that she could not.

As he wondered yet again why he was just standing there watching her instead of going down there and getting her, he felt a strange…ripple…in the air around them. No, not the air…it came from someplace…deeper. The ether…the fabric of reality. Before he could even begin the pinpoint the source of the disturbance, he heard a loud, male voice shout, plain as day, "NOODLE! NOODLE, LOOK OUT!"

He whipped his head down to face the girl, since that was also where the voice seemed to be coming from, but he saw nothing down there, other than the girl and the boat. She was still working on tying the fishing nets, giving no impression that she heard the voice at all. But to his eyes, she suddenly looked quite small and vulnerable down there by herself, and his uneasiness about whatever presence was watching them deepened. He quickly started down the slope toward her.

"NOODLE!" the voice came again, echoing sharply in the little cove and startling him badly. "NOODLE, BEHIND Y-"

He missed a step and pitched forward. He flailed his arms for balance and tried to regain his footing, but he felt wood or plastic snap underneath his right foot and then he was tumbling headfirst down the slope. Sky and garbagy ground seemed to spin around him in a confusing jumble until he finally came to rest in a heap at the bottom of the hill.

"Sunmoonstars!" he heard her shout, using the name she had given him, the name that she said was silly but had stuck anyway, the name she had originally used as a joke until she could think of something better and now used in seriousness. He tried to raise his head, but the motion only intensified his dizziness and he gave up and tried to wait out the spinning in his head. Then he heard her footsteps running toward him, and a second later she was kneeling beside him.

"Sunmoonstars, are you all right?" she asked, placing her hands on his shoulders and shaking him slightly. The motion didn't help his dizziness in the slightest, and he kept his head down. "Sunmoonstars?"

He finally managed to lift his head meet her gaze, a plastic six-pack ring dangling from his nose.

He saw the tiniest touch of a smirk cross her face as she reached out and pulled the piece of plastic from his nose. "Are you all right?" she asked again.

He ignored her and scanned all around them for any sign of the presence that had shouted. He saw nothing, and no longer felt anything watching them either. Whatever it was had gone.

She touched his shoulder. "Sunmoonstars, what's wrong?" Uneasiness had entered her eyes.

Given that the danger (if there had ever been one) was past, he supposed he had better stop worrying her. He looked back at her and shook his head.

She didn't look reassured and glanced up at the hill as if wondering if someone had pushed him. Her hand discretely darted to the ground at her side and he saw her pick up a broken two-by-four, as if to use it as a weapon.

This time it was his turn to touch her shoulder. When she looked back at him, he shook his head again, then waved dismissively at the hill behind him, as if to say: I tripped.

Her expression lightened a bit, but the worry line didn't completely leave her face. "You've never struck me as a klutz," she told him. "Did something happen?"

Yes, but it was impossible to explain to her. She had actually taught him a bit of sign language to make communication easier between them, but only the simplest of commands and replies. He certainly couldn't attempt to tell her about a presence spying on them through the ether, a presence that had shouted for her, but which she couldn't hear. Since the presence was gone now, it was simply easier to try and dismiss the situation (and keep a sharp lookout in the future, in case it returned).

He placed his hand over his eyes and hung his head a bit, as though in embarrassment.

It seemed to work, since he heard her set down the two-by-four. Raising his head back up, he saw that she was giving him a sympathetic look. "Well, be more careful next time. I don't want you breaking your leg," she told him, with a wink. "I have enough work to do around here without hauling you around everywhere too." She smiled a bit and reached out to remove a banana peel from his shoulder.

He quickly began to brush the remaining dirt and trash from himself in genuine embarrassment this time. Next to him, the girl got to her feet and offered a hand to help him up. He accepted.

"I suppose it's getting dark," she said as she helped him stand. "We'd better get back."

He nodded and the two of them headed up the hill and back toward the shelter.

She filled him in about her progress as they walked. "I think it's almost ready to go," she said, referring to the boat. "I just need to put the sail on and do a few finishing touches, and it should be ready. I think it should be finished tomorrow, and then the next day, we can load it up and set sail."

Her expression darkened a bit again and she gave the eastern horizon an uneasy glance. He knew she was worried about the voyage…afraid that they would not make it to land. That they would get lost or run out of food or capsize in a storm. She was working her hardest to make the boat as seaworthy as she could, but they each knew that if something unexpected happened, they were both almost certainly doomed.

She quickly changed the subject, as she usually did when something bothered her. He noticed that she seemed to truly dislike showing fear or vulnerability and did her best to avoid doing so. An admirable trait in a human, he supposed.

"…been doing a good job of catching supplies for us," she was saying. "I'm starting to run out of containers to put them all in. What did you catch this afternoon?"

He made the sign for "bird," then showed her all ten fingers, then three more.

"Thirteen seagulls," she said, sounding pleased. "Anything else?"

He made the sign for "fish," then showed six fingers, and finally, the sign for "octopus," (which was the only term either of them could think to call the one-eyed, squidlike creatures that inhabited the waters around the island, since she didn't know the sign for "squid" wink followed by three fingers.

"I suppose that means it's calamari for dinner again tonight," she laughed. Since the squid meat didn't keep well, they usually ate that for meals while drying and saving the fish and gull meat. "You didn't burn it again this time, did you?"

He shook his head, a little indignant. He had gotten better at cooking! Was she going to hold the time they had to eat blackened tentacles for dinner against him forever?

Forever…the word reminded him that nothing on this world lasted that long, their odd "companionship" least of all. If they managed to get off this island and make it to South America, which was where she wanted to go, they would certainly part company after that. He still didn't know where he would go or how he would get his powers back, but whatever he decided to do, he certainly didn't need the girl for it, and he doubted she needed him. Their mutual need for survival and escape was what united them, and that was the only thing. The rest was…unnecessary. Even if it sometimes was pleasant.

He almost stumbled again, but caught himself before he could fall on his face. The last thing he needed was for his annoyance about the situation to turn him into an actual "klutz." He had already accepted that, while he was not supposed to find their companionship pleasant, he did at times and there was nothing he could do about it. He knew he was weak and pathetic, and he found his occasional enjoyment of her company to be bewildering in the same way he found her kindness toward him to be bewildering, but he consoled himself with the fact that it was temporary and that it would end when they made it to land. He could put up with it until then.

So why did the thought that there was an end in sight not fill him with relief, but instead a vague unease?

Beside him, the girl suddenly jumped back as if startled and let out an exclamation of surprise.

A second later a large brown pelican lifted into the air in front of them and flew slowly and lethargically over the rolling garbage hills, out of sight.

He watched it go with disappointment. Now THAT would have a fine catch. And if he had been paying proper attention, he might have been able to spot and catch it before it flew away.

"You'll get him next time," the girl said kindly. "C'mon, we're almost there and I'm hungry!"

He quickly followed her and soon they were back at the shelter. He ducked inside, but despite her earlier hurry, she paused in the doorway for a moment, looking back out. He cocked his head at her in confusion.

"There's no moon tonight," she said, almost to herself. "I'll bet…" She paused, then shook herself. "Nah..nevermind."

He was curious. He continued looking at her questioningly.

She waved him off dismissively. "It's nothing. It's just…well, last night, I got up to…you know…and the stars were really amazing. There's absolutely no other light out here, so they were really intense. And with no moon…"

He shook his head at her. It was foolishness for her to go blundering around in the dark just so she could look at something she probably saw every night. Of course, if she wanted to, he wouldn't stop her, but he still thought it was silly.

Her face fell a bit. "Yeah, you're right. It's too likely I'd trip and break my ankle. And then YOU'D have to carry ME everywhere instead." She forced a small laugh. "C'mon, let's eat."

They sat down and got to work on the food he had prepared: roasted squid tentacles, with a bit of seagull meat thrown in for variety. He had also filled her water bottle and his water bowl with "jellyfish juice" for them to drink. That had been her idea, and had probably saved their lives more than anything else either of them had done. Since there was no water to be found on this island, she had come up with the idea of boiling large numbers of the jellyfish he caught in a pot over the fire. They were full of water, and the cooking eventually tuned them into a kind of stew. The dark juice wasn't unpleasant tasting (it reminded him a bit of the seagulls, for some reason), and it had sustained them during their time on this island. He had to admit that for a human, she was fairly clever.

He finished gulping down the rest of his supper and then glanced over at her. She had already finished eating and was staring out the window regretfully.

He felt a twinge of yet another foreign emotion…a strange distress at seeing her unhappy. What in the infernal depths of Hell was the matter with him? He sighed to himself, the sound hissing loudly in the little shelter.

She looked over at him. "What's wrong?" she said.

He sighed again. Just looking into her eyes was enough to intensify the strange new emotion he was dealing with. He supposed that the only way to alleviate it was to just go ahead and give into it.

He got to his feet. The girl looked at him oddly. "What?" she said.

He scooped her up into his arms and dashed out the door of the shelter.

He bounded agilely over the scattered refuse all over the ground, ignoring her shriek of alarm. He quickly climbed the nearest hill, and once at the top, set her down gently. Sitting down beside her, he gestured out toward the grand view that surrounded them, as if to say: There are your stars. Happy?

However, she didn't seem terribly interested in them right at the moment. "What the hell was THAT!" she spluttered at him angrily.

He shrugged and gestured toward the stars again. He wasn't sure how much clearer he could make it.

"Ask me before you do something like that next time!" she snapped. "How would you like it if I just picked you up and hauled you around against your will?"

He actually would have enjoyed seeing her try. He turned his head away form her and snickered silently to himself, pleased at her reaction. Served her right for making him feel all these bewildering emotions.

"Are you LAUGHING at me?" he heard her snarl from behind him.

He turned back to her and shook his head with phony sincerity. Her scowl did not lighten.

He supposed he should try and make peace between them. It wouldn't do to have her get TOO mad at him. She might decide to sail off and leave him behind when the boat was ready. Scanning the garbage around them, he found an old, half-deflated basketball. He handed it to her, then spread his arms out, offering himself as a target for her projectile.

For a moment, he almost thought she was actually going to throw it at him. Then, a smile teased at the corners of her mouth, and a moment later, she was laughing at him.

"God damn it," she giggled, letting the basketball fall from her hand and roll lopsidedly down the slope. "I'll get you for this someday, just wait and see."

He held his hands up in front of himself as if in terror.

She flashed him her middle finger. "That's a rude gesture, in case you don't know what it means," she added sheepishly. Still giggling a bit, she turned away from him and finally took in the stars she had been so eager to see earlier.

He left her to it, preferring to look out at the darkened ocean. Those thousands of shiny lights above him made him feel like all the angels were looking down on him from the heavens, judging and mocking him.

"It really is beautiful," he heard her say beside him, and there was a hushed wonder in her voice. "I've never seen so many of them at once. The sky is so intense…it almost looks fake. Like it's a picture or something."

He nodded disinterestedly and continued looking out at the ocean.

"It's funny," she said quietly. "All the stars and constellations I know are there, but they're in different places. It must be the latitude. Look there," she said, gesturing toward the north. "Look how low the two Bears are. Back h-…in England, they are much higher in the sky. But here, they're practically swimming in the ocean."

He could only gaze at where she was pointing in confusion. He didn't see anything remotely resembling a bear in the stars. One large group of stars looked a bit like a ladle, but certainly not a bear.

"I still remember the stories that went with some of the constellations," she was saying. "I suppose my own people have stories and names for them, but I never learned them. I only remember the ones 2D taught me. The bears have such long tails because the gods picked them up by them and threw them into the sky. Or something like that."

She was silent for a long time. He looked over at her and saw that she was gazing out at the ocean wistfully. "Do you think he misses me?"

He could only shrug, knowing next to nothing about the singer for Murdoc's band.

"I…sometimes…sometimes I wonder," she said quietly. "I don't know why he would go along with Murdoc, after everything that happened. He had come to dislike Murdoc by the end…he was always trying to stand up to him, even if it got him a punch in the face. And after Murdoc set up the whole "El Manana" fiasco…" She paused, a pained look on her face. An instant later, she had smoothed it away, and kept talking. "You'd think he'd at least be a little mad. You'd think he'd want nothing to do with Murdoc. Especially after he built that…" Her voice trailed off into silence.

He shifted uncomfortably, suddenly glad that he couldn't talk. If he had been able to, he might have felt an obligation to tell her that the singer hadn't gone with Murdoc willingly, that the Boogieman himself had captured the young man and brought him to Murdoc as the final part of their deal.

She looked over at him, perhaps mistaking his discomfort for sadness. "How about you?" she asked gently. "Do you have anyone who misses you? Or anyone that you miss?"

He shook his head, surprised at the ridiculous question. Of course he didn't have anyone like that. Demons did not form relationships the way humans did.

She sighed softly. "You're lucky," she said quietly.

He supposed he was, now that he thought about it. Not having to put up with the pain humans put one another through, not having to feel the emotions of loneliness and betrayal that tormented her, not having to worry about anyone other than himself. It was certainly very freeing, if nothing else.

So why didn't he FEEL lucky? Nothing about a demon's existence was particularly pleasant, so it had never occurred to him that any aspect of it could be considered a good thing. Certainly, it had never brought him any pleasure. It was just something that…was.

But it certainly pained her. He could tell by her extended silence. The same feeling from the shelter returned, and he wondered if he should do something to comfort her. Certainly not like what he had done the night he had found her crying…no, that memory was still too embarrassing. It had worked, but it had been so utterly uncharacteristic for him that thinking about it still mortified him. He hadn't known what else to do when he'd found her…how to make her stop crying. It hadn't been something he had planned to do, certainly. He wasn't soft and foolish…he just…well, he'd had to do something!

And he had to do something now. A small gesture, at least, to let her know she wasn't alone. Maybe touching her hand would help.

He turned toward her just as she placed her hand on his own.

He could only look at her in surprise.

"I'd miss you," she told him softly.

The simple statement filled an empty place inside him that he hadn't known he had. Feeling like he was breaking every law in the universe, he reached out and wrapped his arms around her in….was it gratitude?

At that moment, he knew he was in deep trouble. These types of gestures…these gestures of human kindness…well, they were bad enough when he was doing them to comfort her. But the idea that he was doing them to comfort himself… it could only mean there was something terribly wrong with him.

He wanted to pull away, but despite how wrong it was, it felt too good to stop. He wondered if this was what sin felt like to humans.

She giggled against him. "You're squashing me."

He pulled away and placed a hand over his face in embarrassment. What the hell was he doing?

She laughed again and patted his shoulder. "Don't be embarrassed. It was kind of cute."

He looked at her indignantly. He was not, in any way shape or form, cute!

She gave him a speculative look. "You know, it's kind of funny. When I think back to the battle on that ship….and how I tried to kill you….if I had known you were like this, I'd never have offered to do it. I'd have let you kick Murdoc in the nuts and blow this shitty island sky high." She sighed slightly. "I wish you could tell me what exactly was going on…why you and he were fighting."

He shuddered inwardly. He was very glad that he could not.

She took one last glance at the stars overhead. "Well, I suppose we'd better be getting back. Thanks for bringing me out here."

He got to his feet and reached down to pick her up.

She looked him square in the eyes. "Even if the mode of transportation was a little undignified."

He snatched his hands away from her and put them behind his back innocently. Thinking quickly, he stooped down and offered her a ride on his back instead.

She grinned at him and hopped up. "I used to get these all the time when I was a little girl. Even Murdoc would sometimes…" She paused. "The hell with him. Let's go."

He carried her back down the hill and brought her to the shelter. Once inside, he set her beside the window, then lay down next to her in his usual spot. He patted her on the arm as his way of saying goodnight, then covered her with his cloak, as he usually did, to keep her warm.

"Goodnight, Sunmoonstars," she murmured beside him, then shut her eyes.

He lay awake long after she had fallen asleep, listening to her breathe and marveling at how small and vulnerable she felt beside him. He knew she was not…he knew she could fight, he knew that she knew how to survive, he knew that she was clever and brave, But in the dark, in the night, she seemed so much more…helpless. Maybe it was because the darkness showed what weaknesses she did have more than the light did. In the dark, she could not see, in the dark the chill in the air deepened, in the dark, her memories of her betrayal were stronger, more dangerous. In the dark, she needed him.

She stirred a bit beside him, and he flinched. The movement had brought her slightly closer to him. It was strange how she seemed to have no discomfort sleeping beside a demon. He thought she would find the experience unnerving, but she seemed quite comfortable with it ever since the night he had…..made her stop crying. Once, he had even woken up in the middle of the night to find her arms around him.

He wondered if she would put her arms around him tonight. He wondered why he would wonder that.

He knew he was slowly loosing his mind. And worst of all, it was not at all unpleasant.

It was only a few more days. Well, only a few more days here, and then however long they would be out at sea. But it wouldn't be forever. He could hold out until they made it to land. Then they would separate, and these strange feelings would go away.

But…

But in the meantime…

But in the meantime…what did it matter if he gave in to them? It was only for a little while. He would eventually escape this, but in the meantime, there was nothing he could do about it. What was the harm in giving in? It was only temporary, and it would be so much more…comfortable.

He reached out and gently slipped his arms around her, drawing her near.

Just for now. Not forever.

She stirred again and slipped her own arms around him.

Just for now. Not forever.

She sighed softly and drifted back to sleep, while he held her vulnerable little form in his arms and protected her. Protected her from the dark, from the cold, and from her memories. She may have been the strong one in the light, the one he needed to survive, but in the dark, the roles were reversed, and he was the one she needed.

In the dark, she was his.