Paige woke up early again. 3:00am. Sighing, she rolled out of bed and headed towards the bathroom. The hallway was illuminated by the moon. It must have been full.
There's a figure standing in the shaded entrance to the stairs. "Briggs?" She calls out, confused as to why he was up. He always sleeps in.
The figure turns, and she realizes it's not Briggs. Or Johnny. Or Jakes.
He turns, an expression foreign to her glowing pale in the light. Mike.
Alive. Paige gasps softly, stumbling backwards a step or two. But... He can't be. She'd sent Sid, and Briggs told her...
"Paige," he says her name. It's only her name, but she hears everything in it. The betrayal. The brokenness.
"But you were.. I saw you dead. Cold on that metal slab."
He executes a small smile, something that resembles amusement. But the emotion in his eyes are killing the attempt. "Well here I am. Warm and... Breathing"
She blinks. How could he possibly be.
He killed Lena. She killed him. How was she supposed to react to his return. What was she supposed to say.
"I didn't kill her you know," he states as if reading her thoughts, "I burned her. I hid her from you. I hid her from her family. The police. I wanted her hidden."
"Because you felt guilt," she says suddenly remembering the betrayal and hurt he caused her and the anger. Her fury at him. He was trash. She disposed of him.
"Because I was guilty," he says. "Sulla killed her. I hid her. I didn't rid myself of the guilt. I bear it on my shoulders every day I bear it as we speak. I helped that piece of filth get away with killing an innocent girl," his voice breaks at the end. "I watched her burn and I couldn't save her and I chose to hide her and continue with the case as if nothing had happened. I swore to myself I would solve the case. The ends would justify the means. And I failed."
Her heart pounds in her chest. Why was he telling her this.
"Now I know. I know that what I did was wrong. It was stupid. Impulsive. Selfish. Lena is dead. It is my fault. I killed her. Everyone who ever got hurt on this case: it's on me. I'm the barbarian. I'm the Viking. The monster mothers tell their children about to make them behave. The bad guy, after all I've ever wanted was to be good."
His eyes seem to darken, to sink into his face. His skin grows paler, sickly. He looks dead. A zombie. "Paige," he says, "I'm sorry."
She wakes up with a start. Her heartbeat is racing and she wipes the sweat from her forehead. Paige looks around to see her room. Not the hallway. Not Mike.
She remembers it so vividly, not how normal dreams are like. Of course, she's been having those for the past few days since...
Her eyes fall on the ballerina on her desk. The one Jakes gave her. The one that symbolizes Lena. She was a dancer. The ballerina doesn't dance anymore. It was broken, and Jakes fixed it before giving it to her. Paige chose to break it again. If Lena couldn't dance anymore why should it.
Tears were already streaming down her face as she walked over to it. Why was she crying? Everything Mike said in her dream was exactly what she wanted him to say. She guesses her subconscious was giving it to her. Then why did she feel so bad? Why was the guilt weighing her down so much she has to sit down before picking the figurine up.
She almost drops it when a sudden noise emits from the box. A lullaby. She gasps. The figurine spins slowly. The song twinkles it's sound throughout the room. It's beautiful. But how?
A piece of yellow paper floats down onto the desk. A note...
"I think she looks happier when she dances
-M"