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Hello my little chickens! Here is the next chapter, and boyyyyy it is longer than the rest. BE HAPPY:) This is how long they'll be from now on, so hopefully you likey.

On another note, I have set up a tumblr account for this story, which is canweflyxx . tumblr . com (take out the spaces woo)

NOW A WARNING...please forgive my lack of knowledge of tumblr...all the posts for now are just in one long line down one page haha, i'll eventually figure out how to do different pages. But the website already has some pictures of characters on it!;) It will have scenery pics as well! In addition to the pictures, I'll be giving you guys some knowledge of where I am with the updates and so on...so you won't feel like I've disappeared into an abyss.

Sorry about the too long author's note...hahaha enjoy the chapter:)


Chapter 6 – Truce?

Bree stared down at the strawberry cheesecake in front of her, head cocked to one side as she regarded her latest cooking masterpiece. The cheesecake had proven to be her hardest endeavor yet, and had taken multiple spills, extra ingredients, and quite literally blood and tears (for she had cut herself whilst cutting the strawberries at the end), to get the cake right. Apparently even in some sort of freaky limbo, she thought, she could still bleed.

But now, the cake was perfect. The graham was seamless, the cake itself was moist and creamy in color, and the whipped cream and strawberries made the finishing product appear fit for a king. The blonde girl let out a slight giggle as she attempted to scrub off the batter from her hands and arms, but the laughter soon died and the kitchen was once again silent except for Bree's own breathing.

Bree had always wanted to learn to cook well, but she could never find the time between soccer practices, piano lessons, volunteering, studying, and seeing her friends. Now, she had none of that, as well as no one to converse readily with, time was all she had.

Remembering the first meal she'd made for herself, after that long first week of barely eating anything, Bree smiled sourly.

The kitchen had not been hard to find; Bree discovered the map of Death's 'house' to be extremely easy to read, most likely because whatever path you were thinking about taking became highlighted, as well as all the hallways and corridors that could and would possibly lead you too it from all directions. The hallways and furniture had seemed extremely outdated, albeit beautiful, and initially Bree had been expecting a fire pit and heavy iron frying pans to cook a slab of meat she would have to hack off of a cow. It had been to her shock though, when the kitchen had not only contained a fridge, microwave, stove and oven, but all appearing in shiny stainless steal. The room itself was a dark gleaming color, making the polished appliance look even sleeker, she'd even seen her own reflection in the floor, and a stunning lighting system hung from the high exquisite ceiling.

However lavish the kitchen had been though, Bree simply fried scrambled eggs, paired with whole-wheat toast and some green tea; a meal that her father occasionally surprised her with in the mornings when she had early classes at the university.

Bree had silently cried into her eggs that time, and had not cried since.

It had been roughly 1095 hours since then.

Bree had wished for a digital clock in her room, so she could keep track of how much time was wasting away, since there was no moon or sun in Death's world. Roughly a month and a half since she'd died…. the thought still shocked her every time.

" ' Just lay it all down. Put your face into my neck and let it fall out—I know I know I know, I knew before you got home' "

Bree began to sing quietly to herself as she ceremoniously began to wash all the cutlery and dishes used by hand. She'd never been an excellent singer—more of the player behind the music, though due to her musical ear she could hit the right notes. All the other things that made her cry Bree tended to push out of her head, but that was one thing she allowed herself to be sad about. No matter how many times she wished out loud, begged, no piano ever came into her sight. It was breaking her heart all over again to not play. It had always been there to sooth her, and even the pleasure of ivory keys had disappeared with her life.

So instead, Bree had promised herself to sing at least one song each day, hoping music would keep her from caving in.

Cooking being another thing to humanize herself, Bree spent the majority of her free time, "which is all the time," she muttered rolling her eyes, cooking, exercising in her bedroom, trying to remember lyrics to songs she had never liked before, and staring out her window at the vast desert of nonentity. "I miss conversation," Bree slammed the washcloth down on the countertop. "Getting used to talking to yourself is terribly upsetting on the mind. I am slowly going crazy over the lack of dialogue exchange." She hung the dirty apron up by the fridge, and followed the motion by placing the cake into the freezer. "You were never much fun to talk to either…way to stubborn." The young woman scolded herself sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

In addition to all that, Bree had not seen or heard from Death since their second encounter, and if he'd not been Death himself, Bree would have assumed him dead. Chuckling at her own joke, then stopping herself abruptly in embarrassment, Bree stalked angrily through the dimly lit, "gloomy fucking" corridors, on her way back to the bedroom. She kicked open the door indignantly, and stripping off her sweatpants and tank top, she all but clamored into the shower to wash off the cake remnants, hot water burning her back.

She was angry, because the only being that could even possibly speak to her while she was doing her 'time', as she liked to call it, was Death, and he seemed to hate her. That, or he had just decided not to concern himself, because he made no attempts to contact her in the slightest.

"I'm your fucking guest. You should at least stop by to see how I'm doing!"

Bree had never been comfortable with people not liking her, and she assumed the Warden did not particularly care for her—he had said so himself. "At least give me a guitar or something…" she pouted, then catching her appearance in the mirror, rolled her eyes and walked quickly past it, climbing into her bed nude, shivering slightly as she enjoyed the way the silk caressed her bare skin.

Bree was pleased that her appearance at least didn't appear to change to look more, well…. dead. She looked much better since she'd been watching herself; making sure not to cry for hours before going to bed, reminding herself that she should eat a few things a day, trying to go back to her regular toning exercises. Bree winced as the image of her eyes shone through her brain. They had always been the one aspect of herself that she actually enjoyed, and it had not gone unnoticed that they looked dull now. Unhappy.

"Well…I guess that comes with sorrow. And being alone." Bree snuggled into the pillow, willing sleep to come upon her. When had she gotten so morbid? "Give me some credit, jesus…" was the last thing she grumbled before slumber sucked her under.


"Bree, I don't believe you aren't nervous at all?" Bree's mother fussed with her 12-year old daughters thick hair.

"Mooooooommm." The girl tried to pout, but her lower lip trembled, and she burst out into obviously nervous giggles. "I am nervous. But as soon as I start playing I always forget you guys are watching me."

They were just moments before Bree went on stage in the Rotary Piano Competition that she entered every year. She was among the top contenders for this year's Rose Bowl, an award that could be given to anyone up to the age of 18—it was Bree's first year as a nominee.

She had never cared about that though. She simply loved the instrument that her grandmother had taught her how to play. Bree was always annoyed when her opinion and words were not listened too, she found most adults always passed children's words as silly or not serious—piano was one thing she could do where she knew everyone was listening. She could make them listen.

Bree smiled a missing tooth smile at her fretting mother.

"I'll be okay."

Her mother laughed, and stood up, peering down at her always so straightforward daughter.

"I know you will be. I worry enough for the both of us though. Now get up there hun, and blow them away like you always do."


"I told you. I think that it just goes on and on…this is some sort of magical world after all, right?"

"Nope, I think it's an island. And the creepy glow comes from some type of red moon reflecting off the water around the island."

"You could always go swimming then…" was the sarcastic reply.

"Oh shut up." Bree quipped. "You know full well that you're bored out of you mind and—oh for FUCKS SAKE THIS HAS TO END."

The girl laughed angrily, and slammed her window shut. "What the fuck is wrong with me? Oh I know, I'm going fucking CRAZY." She threw her hands up to grab onto her hair and whipped around to face the empty bedroom. 2191 hours. 2191 since she had been here. Three months with no one to talk to but herself. She had been in this god forsaken place for too long, this was some fucking experiment of some shit for creepy Death to do, and Bree believe she should not have to suffer anymore than necessary in this confined limbo.

She had died for god's sake. She deserved some fucking respect.

"I HAVE HAD ENOUGH. FUCK THIS." Bree howled, and grabbing the map of the prison, her eyes landed on one large room in particular labeled 'R. study' in beautifully handwritten transcript.

Bree wanted to scribble all over the prim and properly done map with crayons.

She didn't know if Death would be there, whether 'R' was a who or a what, or if it was someplace important, but it was the biggest study in the house; Death was the owner of the house, so wouldn't that be his?

Bree stormed down the passageways, through large foyers and entranceways that she'd never seen before. But Bree was seeing red, and did not stop to explore the old Victorian décor.

"He'll be fucking lucky if he isn't there," she hissed, "but if he's gone I'm gunna trash it." Her heart thrilled at the sound of pure bad teenage mischief.

Bree was momentarily stunned when she stopped tersely in front of the large mahogany door where the path on the map ended.

She heard Death's voice on the inside, seemingly speaking in a hushed tone.

"Dead."

Was the threat he would get instead of a knock, and the furious blonde twisted the large brass knob and all but threw the door open. Bree fleetingly noticed there was another body beside the smoke stack, but her eyes were only focused on the smog as they narrowed dangerously. "You." She spat, storming into the room and placing her feet shoulder width apart, to balance herself in case of a fight. "You," Bree pointed a finger at the person who provoked her more than any other human had on earth. "Are seriously the rudest, most aggravating, stupid, BORING…THING IN THE WHOLE ENTIRE FUCKING UNIVERSE!" Her voice pitched as it got louder and less controlled as she went on. Her hands shook in fists, and an angry heat coursed through her veins. "You dare bring be here, fuck with my death, which by the way, I would have preferred to be normal… and then act like a total fucking dickwad and not speak to me for MONTHS?!" She raised her eyebrows, and the frozen block of smoke, please on the inside that he was shocked into stiffness. "That was a rhetorical question, by the way," she continued. "You bring me here, speak to me all of twice, and then leave me to spend the last two years of my existence alone? I'm not gunna ask if you have a heart, because I clearly can't see one through all that smoke," Bree murmured sarcastically waving her hands through the air, "but I'm sure you have some sort of brain…. or is that fucking SMOG as well?! And what on EARTH made you pick a giant fucking cancerous smoke stack as something to look like? DO you think you're fucking scary or something? It's ridiculous."

Bree saw a glass of water on a stool next to the bookshelf and nearly flipped her shit all over again. A glass of water? Really? What's he doing with that, trying to put out the fire under his ass that was smoking up the place? Bree took two steps, grabbed the crystal glass and flung it against the stone wall, watching with frustration and diminutive amusement as the shards sparked from the wall like fireworks. Feeling much better than she had before chucking the glass at the wall, Bree turned herself once more to face Death, and drawing herself up to full height, took a deep breath.

"Listen you smoky dick. I am done being nice. You have imprisoned me here, acted rudely, and now have ignore me for three fucki—three months. I will not tolerate that. You owe me that much to at least have a conversation once a week or something! Hell, once a fucking day would not being ask for much. I am not a doll; you can't lock me up in a pretty house with everything I wish for and think I'm content. I'm going crazy! There is not one single musical instrument in your creepy ass lair! I started to have a full conversation with myself this morning— and I am not crazy."

The girl studied the figure in front of her for a moment.

"However I think you might be. How can you even think what you're doing is okay? It is so wrong morally for one. I honestly don't give a fuck about morals though…I just want you to be a gentleman and have a chat with me. I mean, am I that horrible? Although your conversation skills consist of telling me you do not give a shit about me or my life or my afterlife, and snarky stiff-ass remarks, and deathly cold silences that are supposed to scare me, I would take that any day over nothing any day."

Bree's heart had never beat so fast as it did when she moved to put herself closer to Death than she had been ever before; she was so near that the shadowy wisps seemed to move under her breath.

"So listen here you prick. Do not expect me to sit pretty while I go mad. I'm asking you to please consider what you have done to me, and deliberate that the consequences of your actions may not be ones you like, such as conversing and interacting with me, however…" her voice came out in a chilling whisper now, and briefly Bree pondered if she was causing the chilling atmosphere that hung in the air. "However…you must have the decency to not being jerking off in here all the time, or whatever it is you do, and come talk to me. You've lived a few centuries, I'm sure you could tell me a pretty story or two." Bree sneered and stepped back, her angry rant finally done. She willed her heartbeat to calm down, and the heated flush to wash from her face.

The room was, for lack of a better word, deathly still.

"You haven't been speaking to her?" An astonished, deep voice that had an odd rustle which remind Bree of leaves came from her left, and nervous realization hit the girl as she remembered there was someone else standing a few feet from the object of her subjected anger.

"Err..." Bree slowly turned towards the person, flushing slightly. "Sorry about that, I umm…whoaa." Her mouth fell open, for in front of her had to be the hottest boy she'd ever laid eyes on, yet he held the sweetest cheeky grin on his face. He had pretty golden skin and dark hair that waved around his high cheekbones and curled across the nape of his neck. A dusting of soft freckles skidded across a perfectly structured nose, his mouth and white teeth were nothing if better than perfect, and his eyes were the brightest color green; extremely similar, she noted, to the leaves his voice held. He seem only a few years older than her, and the thin peasants shirt he was adorning allowed her to see a slim, lithe body.

Bree realized much to late that she looked similar to a codfish as she stared at the boy, her mouth agape. He let out a loud burst of laughter, and Bree was sure the room lit up slightly, but by the time her eyes registered the change in lighting she wasn't so sure anymore.

"Your slight appearance certainly doesn't suit your temper at all," Golden Boy giggled, making Bree flush even darker, "she really is exactly how you said, D. But I find her extremely amusing...and rather attractive, instead of an annoyance."

Bree's eyes narrowed as she was reminded once again of the reason for her entering the study, and her gaze pierced the top of the column once again.

"Well?" She barked rather rudely. "What do you have to say for yourself? And how come he can call you 'D' and I can't? Death sounds so lame."

Once again, if he was going to speak at all, the Golden Man stopped Death again, this time by deep chuckles. Bree tried not to think of how nice those chuckles sounded, and instead busied herself by trying to stay mad at Death.

"I'm still a bit in shock…" The new man said, looking at Death, "she just insulted you so many times, so creatively too! I'm trying to pick one to laugh at, but they're just all so hilarious!" Then he broke up with peels of laughter, clutching his stomach and bending over from his position on the oak desk. He barely managed to get out " 'Jerking off'?! Ahhhhh my stomach! Holy shit girl, you're funny."

Bree just stared at the boy, and then back at Death, then back at the boy, then back at Death…she really was quite confused. Who was he? He looked human, but certainly he wasn't.

Bree decided that she had best ask Death—for although he was annoying, and had been extremely rude to her the past little while, she at least knew his name.

"Death." The smoke seemed to adjust itself in her direction, and Bree pointed a finger at the still snickering, shiny, new man who was now paying absolutely no attention to either of them. "Who is that?"

"That," Death began, and Bree was slightly shocked about how utterly comforting it was to hear a familiar voice, "is Summer."

"Summer…as in Summer, Summer? Like the season?!"

"Yes. I'm surprised you caught on that quickly."

"Well, you're called Death, and you are in charge of dead people. So I just put two and two together really." She shrugged, then narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms across her chest. Bree realized she was pouting faintly, but she flung the feeling aside, she had a right to pout. "I'm still upset that you didn't speak to me for that long."

To the girl's amusement, the smog made an upward gesture, which looked suspiciously like a shrug.

"You seemed content with your cooking."

"Yeah, the pots and pans really spiked up an adamant conversation." She answered sarcastically.

Death didn't react, and instead of being angry at his lack of speech, Bree was merely surprised.

"You didn't apologize." It wasn't a question or accusation, just a statement, and she heard smugness in his reply.

"I can put two and two together as well. You told me not to say sorry if I did not mean it."

Bree huffed, and looking down at the floor as she felt an unreasonable stab of disappointment in her stomach. She shuffled her feet, a habit her mother always told her gave away when she was feeling a little down, and trained her eyes on a sparkling piece of crystal from the shattered glass. It was completely arbitrary for her to be sad about Death not paying any attention to her—but she had been too mad to think about how being ignored made her feel until this very moment. The fact that he wasn't even sorry did not make her feel better about the situation either.

"Oh." She muttered, trying to tell herself that it was pointless for her to even expect a little kindness from a guy called Death. "I'm sorry, then."

If she had looked up, Bree could have seen the black swirls pause once again, as a moment of silence swept through the room.

"And why is that?" His words came out staccato, sharp and terse. Great, thought Bree, he's even madder now.

"I just—" She gnawed on her bottom lip and scratched an elbow awkwardly, "I was just lonely that's all. I'm sorry about my outburst a few minutes ago, I really suck at my temper." Bree snapped her head up quickly and sucked in a breath, "but that doesn't mean I'm not annoyed with you for just leaving me by myself. I just, I guess I feel bad because…you seem to be stuck with me, and you don't like me very much. So for that, I'm sorry."

It was absolutely ridiculous to being feeling this bad; but as Death regarded the girl in front of him, he could not stop the piercing guilt. She was biting that damn lip, and rubbing her arms, was she cold? He didn't think about heating around this place, perhaps for a human it would be uncom—

Wait. Stop.

Absolutely ridiculous.

She had apologized again. Bree Holland had shocked him when she stormed into his rather quiet meeting with Summer, insulting him infinitely once again; what human was not comfortable when she could ask for anything? But after the outburst she apologized once again. And she looked so hurt now. Like he had hurt her feelings. This girl was utterly infuriating.

In front of him now, Bree Holland looked exceedingly human…so fragile in contrast with the earlier, strongly voiced opinions; hair hanging across small shoulders, blue eyes so big and pitiful.

"Utterly infuriating." He murmured, watching as Bree's tongue darted out to wet her lip nervously, wincing at the words he had not meant to voice.

There came that unbridled, pathetic, guilty feeling again.

"I believe it is my place to apologize." Death sighed, and Bree's head shot up in surprise. "You are right, you're my guest here and I guess I haven't treated you with respect." He spoke slowly, as if the words spoken were not familiar. "I am obviously not used to have a human living here, and I am sorry for acting as I have. It is not that I don't like you…I'm just…ahh not used to you." Bree felt as though unseen eyes were borrowing into her skull, trying to see her everything thought, and her heart fluttered uneasily, especially when a sort of kindly amusement dripped into his voice. "I truly am sorry, or else I wouldn't be apologizing, right? From now on I will make a point of seeing you once a day."

Bree nearly giggled as her Warden drifted into more casual speech. The girl could not stop the overwhelming happiness that washed over her when he spoke those words. He was going to talk to her. He was going to speak to her. She hugged herself joyfully; even though he had said it in a way that could be interpreted like putting something on a schedule, Bree felt as if her smile would crack her face in two. It was the first time she had smiled since her arrival, and the action felt unfamiliar.

She continued to beam up at Death, not stopping to wonder what it was about him that made her want to please him.

"Thank you."

And at that moment, Bree felt as if Death did have a pair of eyes; dark, dark grey eyes, that met hers. She realized with surprised that she enjoyed his mere company, her own body liking the very the aura he gave off around him.

"Well I feel like the biggest fucking third wheel in the entire universe." The blond started a bit, having completely forgotten Summer's presence in the room. She noticed with pleasure that his hair was no longer the color of tree bark, but sky blue, and the tips of his ears were pointed ever so slightly.

Bree was so giddy with conversation that she giggled, covering her mouth with an arm.

"Hi! I'm Bree. It's very nice to meet you Mr. Summer sir."

She stuck her hand out to initiate a handshake, then paused, "wait…do you guys shake hands? Shit, I'm sorry if it's weirdly rude or something! I really don't know what's what around here. I mean I never really imagine meeting an actual season before, god.. I didn't even think you guys were a someone. Wow you are so golden….umm…" To her surprise, Summer threw back his pretty head and laughed again, then proceeded to grab her hand in a warm rough grasp.

"You have done nothing wrong girlie. It's very nice to meet you too." He winked a yellow eye shut, and Bree couldn't help but giggle again. Summer reminded her of a delightfully tanned California model, all sharp features and boyish charm.

"You know, summer was always my favorite month," Bree said thoughtfully, "you don't have to bundle up in all those heavy clothes, plus when I tanned a little I wouldn't look so ghostly pale." Knuckles brushed her arm, and Summer smiled kindly down at her.

"I think your skin is a beautiful color."

To Bree's surprised, hot fog encased her wrist and pulled her back a step. She was still staring at her hand in awe as Death spoke.

"Please, Summer. Do not attempt to impregnate my guest. It would pose some problems."

Bree was rubbing her wrist still, but questioned, "you guys can get people pregnant?"

"No—" Summer started, before his companion interrupted him.

"No. But it doesn't seem to stop him from trying."

"Now, now D. Don't go giving the young lady a reason to stay away from me…I won't try anything."

"She doesn't need a reason except that one to stay away from you."

Summer stamped a foot, eyebrows furrowed and looking like a child that was denied a treat.

"Not faaaair. You can't tell me to stay away from her. She isn't your property. She's funny."

This was more than enough for Bree, and she burst out in to a happy laughter.

"It's okay, Death. I don't mind, honestly." She smiled kindly at Summer, "I think you're funny too."

She was immediately whisked up into a tight grasp.

"You. Are. Just. SO. Adorable." Summer was rubbing his nose into her neck, and being tickled, Bree shrieked with laughter and aided the steamy black fog in pushing the tanned boy away.

As the two males argued in front of her, Bree was surprised to feel oddly content. Realizing that, even though she'd been distracting herself, she had never actually enjoyed being in Death's home before now. Bree would have just been happy with a short conversation and yet she was blessed by an awkward kind of truce with Death, plus Summer, who she liked already—the happy man was very easy to like.

Death also seemed more...human, when around Summer, and Bree thought with shock that it was because perhaps they were good friends, despite their disagreeing.

She snickered softly, and raised her voice to be heard over the now rather shouty conversation in front of her.

"I'm glad you agreed to talk to me each day. But please refrain from coming in unannounced… it'd be terribly obstinate for you too see me all naked again, wouldn't it?"

Silence, then…

"You saw her naked? And you're accusing me of sexually harassing her?!"


And Bree finally meets Summer, YAY!

Alsooo the song Bree was singing a little of in the beginning was 'Nightminds' by Missy Higgins...beautiful song oh myyy pplease go listen to it.

What happened to all the reviews last time:( Please review, it really honestly means a lot!

TkeleChoG: You are my most faithful reviewer and I thank you for that:) I hope you enjoyed this chapter! AND i have never actually read the Percy Jackson series, but as soon as I read about how Summer was like Apollo I instantly looked up the parts of the books he's in...hahaha i love him.

SpiderManFan: Thanks for your review!:D I'm glad you like the story, and Bree! Hope you enjoyed this chapter xoxox