Chapter Nine: Really

Estelle went to the prison cells alone this time. Zagi was currently the only resident, so when she entered the long line of cells and heard a metallic banging from up ahead, she knew it was him. She was tempted to turn back and ask Rita to come with her, but Rita was busy doing science and besides, she could do this on her own. Zagi was behind bars; there was nothing to fear.

When she stood before his cell, he paused. He'd been striking his metal arm against the bars repeatedly, but now he grinned at her like a hungry predator. "Hello, princess. Have you caught your killer yet? Do I get to fight Yuri now?"

Estelle steeled herself. "Not yet. We've had more developments on the case, and I'd like your input on them."

"Ooh, more grisly murders? Do tell."

She hated to think she was entertaining Zagi by giving him the details of the woman murdered in front of Flynn, but it might help them catch this monster. "One more girl was murdered. Yesterday, Flynn was captured by the Heartbreaker. He killed the girl in front of Flynn, told him the number of times he stabbed her was significant, and then let him go."

Zagi shrugged. "If your dear commandant met the guy, why do you need my help identifying him?"

"Flynn was blindfolded. He doesn't know what the culprit looks like. What do you make of this? If his goal is to get to Flynn, and he had Flynn, why did he let him go? Yesterday, he kidnapped a nobleman and then told the newspaper that he already gave Flynn all the clues he needs to save him. Why did he start this now? The first six victims were killed immediately after being taken." Estelle didn't know how to make sense of the case. The killer's patterns kept changing and she couldn't figure out what he was even trying to accomplish. Zagi had said he seemed to have a larger goal he was aiming for, but she hadn't the foggiest idea what that could be.

"Obviously killing Flynn isn't his goal. If that's what he really wanted, he would have sliced him up by now."

"If he doesn't want to kill Flynn, why did he give Flynn a clue?"

"I told you last time. He wants Flynn to catch him. That's his goal."

Estelle frowned. "Why doesn't he just turn himself in, then?"

Zagi shrugged again. "Probably because that's too easy. I bet he wants Flynn to catch him, but only if he proves he's a worthy opponent."

Estelle mulled this over. It made sense, but then the earlier hidden messages hadn't been clues to stopping him. They'd just been opportunities to taunt Flynn. "Why send the letter to the newspaper?"

He pressed his face against the bars and grinned. "That's what makes it fun, isn't it? Now all of Zaphias it impatiently waiting for Flynn to triumph. More pressure. More urgency. More fun."

"I still don't understand. Does he want to make Flynn miserable, or does he want Flynn to successfully capture him?"

"Why not both?"

"A Pyrrhic victory, you mean?"

Zagi leaned back and wrinkled his brow with deep confusion.

"That means a victory that comes at such a cost that it's basically a defeat because winning wasn't worth what it took to get there."

"You're sure annoying." He leaned forward again. "Come a little closer so I can rip that tongue out of your mouth before you blabber again."

Estelle hurriedly stepped back, although she was nowhere near arm's reach. "O-ok, but you think he wants Flynn to catch him, but to make Flynn so miserable doing it he doesn't feel victorious?"

"Maybe. I really can't say for certain. What you should figure out is why he wants to get caught. Why would he want to be in prison? Prison is boring. I haven't killed anyone in a week!"

"Why do you think he wants to get caught?"

"I told you already: I don't know. You're the one who's supposed to be the clever hero. Figure out yourself." Zagi wandered away from the bars, which Estelle took as a signal that he was done talking.

She left, more confused than when she'd come. She still didn't understand the Heartbreaker, but what Zagi had said about a Pyrrhic victory worried her. Flynn was already distraught about what had happened during his abduction, and she didn't want to think that it would get worse.


Two days after the paper came out claiming Flynn had everything he needed to know to find Carter, two things had not happened. First, Flynn had not found Carter. Second, Flynn had not talked to Yuri. The second was partially related to the first. Pressure from the Council, the public, and even within the Knights had Flynn working nonstop to figure out where Carter was. He had sent out teams of knights to explore every old building with a known basement in the city in hopes of finding the location he'd been held in, and Estelle had helped him pour through the library to find any reference to the number sixteen.

He also found himself dragged into Council meetings and forced to explain that he already understood how dire this situation was and tell them everything he'd been doing to prove he wasn't slacking. Holding back sardonic comments about how standing before them to explain what he'd been doing rather than actually doing things was not conducive to actually getting things done became increasingly difficult to hold in.

Yesterday, he'd reluctantly agreed to an interview with a reporter - thankfully not Angie - just to get people off his back, and spent forty-five minutes trying to make it clear that no, the killer hadn't given him a plethora of clues. He had one tiny thing to go off, and it wasn't getting them anywhere. The reporter also wanted the complete scoop on exactly what had happened to him during his abduction, and either didn't understand or didn't care about Flynn's obvious desire to avoid talking about it. The horror and pain of that day still kept him awake at night until only Kat's gentle breathing curled up at his feet put him to sleep, and it really wasn't something he wanted to talk about with a complete stranger who only wanted the juicy details to sell papers.

With every passing day, it become increasingly unlikely they'd find Carter alive. Sodia, Estelle, and even Ioder himself took time to tell him it wasn't his fault and he was doing his best, but with everyone else demanding to know why he hadn't rescued the poor old man yet, it was difficult to keep his spirits up.

This mess was why he hadn't spoken to Yuri yet, because he really didn't have the time. The conversation about exactly what their relationship was and how they honestly felt about each other was something that needed a long time and appropriate focus. He couldn't deal with relationship drama when he was trying to save both a man's life and his public perception.

It was evening now, and Flynn was ready to go home. He'd stayed later than usual to try to squeeze his regular work in between the Heartbreaker mess, and had a turkey sandwich sent up from the castle kitchens in lieu of a proper dinner. He felt guilty, though, because Kat must be hungry and he had a responsibility to get him and feed her. She didn't have the option of calling for a turkey sandwich. Flynn was glad she didn't, because if she no longer had to rely on him for food he feared his position as Master of the House would vanish from her mind.

He couldn't go home yet, though, because Rita had shown up to talk about Carter. As much as Flynn wanted to find him, he also never wanted to hear the name 'Carter' again. "Please tell me you found something useful."

"Sorry." She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. "I went with the others to check out the house and look for any clues. Like you said, there was no sign of a break-in. Repede sniffed the whole property but couldn't find any trace of ether. Raven examined the locks on all the doors and said here was no sign any of them had been picked - don't ask how that old creep would knew what a picked lock would look like. We found his agenda in the study and he didn't have any outings planned for that night. This guy was meticulous, too - he planned out when he would walk to the store to buy milk. Doesn't seem to me like the guy who'd wander out of his house at night out of the blue, so the killer must have come to him. What we can't figure out, though, is how he got in and how he got Carter away. We're pretty sure the killer was inside, too, because Karol found this clinging to a curtain in the hallway." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a vial.

Flynn leaned close and saw a dark hair about three inches long.

"Can't be Carter's," Rita explained, eyes on it. "His hair is short and grey. The maid is blonde and curly. Judith asked the maid and she claims she cleaned everything the day he disappeared, including the curtains, so this hair would have to have been left after she went home for the day."

"That's a hair from our killer, then?"

"Or someone else who came to visit Carter that night. Unfortunately, none of the neighbours were watching the street so we don't know when he arrived, how he got in, or how he left with Carter."

Flynn rested his chin on his folded hands. He really needed to thank Yuri and the others for doing such a thorough job examining Carter's house. They must have been there for the better part of the day, tearing it apart for clues. "Maybe he knocked," Flynn tiredly suggested.

"What? Just knock and say 'hello, I'm a murderer, would you please come into captivity with me'?"

Flynn closed his eyes for a second. His shoulders hurt. Whether this was from leaning over his desk all day or a remnant from hanging by his arms a few days ago, he wasn't sure. In any case, he really just wanted to go home, give Kat her dinner, and then take the longest and hottest bath the world had ever seen.

"I don't know. It isn't likely. I'm sorry, I don't have any answers tonight. I'll sleep on it and maybe something will occur to me tomorrow. Thank you so much for all your hard work, Miss Mordio. Please pass along my thanks to the others."

"Why don't you thank them yourself? Something's up with Yuri; you ought to talk to him."

His brow creased with concern. "Is he not well?"

Rita shrugged. "He's just been moping around, but also trying hard to not look like he's moping around. Something's obviously bothering him, and it started the day after he found you. I think Estelle knows what it is, but when I asked her she just serious look on her face and told me she wasn't allowed to tell. Whatever the case, when Yuri's grouchy it's almost always to do with you, so you should sort this out."

Yuri was upset? Was it because Flynn had overstepped his bounds, or because he wanted Flynn to step further? He didn't know and frankly he had enough to deal with right now without worrying about Yuri. "Thank you for telling me. I'll stop by when I can."

"Yeah, all right." She got to her feet and added, "Whenever you have time. Hope you figure out where this Carter guy is soon - Estelle's really upset about all this."

"I'm doing my best."

Rita left and he decided it was time to go home before anyone else showed up to delay him. He could finish the rest of these papers at home, after Kat had been fed. He piled them into a folder, put on his coat, and hurried out of the castle.

Flynn unlocked his door and kicked snow off his boots on the front step. What a long day. He hadn't observed his weekly day off since this whole mess started, although maybe he should take all his missed days off and lump them together into a short vacation when the Heartbreaker was finally caught. He hung his coat by the door and trudged into the kitchen.

Cat food poured into the bowl, but he didn't hear the tell-tale patter of paws running for the kitchen. She hadn't come running when he came home, either, which she usually did when he came back late. With a pang of guilt, he wondered if she was still upset about being abandoned a few days ago when he'd been abducted. Hopefully she was just asleep and not actively ignoring him in payback.

"I'm sorry, Kat," he called on his way to the stairs. "I shouldn't stay late. I know I'm a horrible owner. Can you ever forgive me?" She still hadn't come running, so she was probably asleep. Maybe she'd slept right through dinner time and wouldn't notice that he was late, and he'd be off the hook.

Just to be thorough, he poked his head in the spare bedroom and the study to check if she was there. In the study, he paused to remember if he had really left the curtains open. There was nothing on the other side of the window but a brick wall, so he usually kept the curtains closed because the fabric was nicer to look at than grey blocks. Sometimes he did open them to let in a little light, though, and now he couldn't remember if he'd done that the last time he worked in here. Well, they were open now, so he must have.

"Kat, are you still ignoring me?" he called. "Your dinner is downstairs; you can stop being mad at me now." He walked to his bedroom, expecting to find her curled up on his pillow and glaring at him. He entered the room with a smile, and then froze.

He found Kat. She was on the floor, and she was covered in blood. His shoulder it the doorframe and his knees turned to jelly. It took a few moments to even register what he was looking at, and then he ran for the bathroom and threw up in the sink.

"Fuck!" He smashed his fists against the porcelain sink. It hurt, but he didn't care. His fingers tightened around the edge of the sink and he stared into the mirror, taking heaving breaths. Why? Why the fuck would someone kill his cat? He didn't even have to wonder who it was, not when the cause of death so closely mimicked the earlier murders. Torso split open, organs scattered on the carpet, blood soaking into his bedroom floor. Fuck.

She was just a cat. She had nothing to do with this. Tears rose in his eyes and he couldn't bring himself to go back to his room again. He was going to kill that bastard. Kat was just an innocent animal, and he'd made her suffer for no reason. Another thought managed to break through his shock: the Heartbreaker had been inside his house. What if he's still here?

He should search the house. He didn't have the energy to do that, not to a degree that would be satisfactory. Even if he did search and find nothing, who was to say the killer wouldn't come back? His skin crawled as he imagined that bastard walking through his house. Just picturing that horrible man in his bedroom made Flynn feel violated. Then he imagined Kat hiding in a closet like she always did when strangers were here, and the killer stalking through the house looking for her, finding her huddled on the top shelf of the closet and dragging her, scratching and yowling down, carrying her to Flynn's bedroom and pulling out a knife…

His thoughts cut off with a choked sob. He couldn't do this. He couldn't stay in this house. He didn't even know what to do with Kat. He couldn't sleep with her in his room like that, but where did you put a dead animal? Were you just supposed to throw the body away? He couldn't do that to her. Nothing about this was ok. All he knew was that he had to get out of here. He stumbled out of the bathroom, not able to bring himself to look at the open doorway to his room. He walked downstairs, grabbed his coat, and left the house in a daze.


It really was winter now. Well, technically it was still autumn if you looked at the calendar, but don't tell the weather that. A foot of snow settled comfortably over the streets, and Yuri kept his window closed and sat in a chair looking out. He had considered opening it anyway, but Repede had barked at him and told him that even if he was crazy about temperatures, Repede certainly wasn't going to put up with that crap when he was comfy and warm already.

The door burst open. Yuri leapt to his feet and reached for his sword before realizing who it was. "Flynn?"

"Hey." His voice was flat and his face dead.

A blast of cold air from the open door hit Yuri, and then Flynn closed the door and stood sniffling in the room. At first Yuri thought the sniffling was from walking out in the cold and then suddenly coming inside, but then he looked closer and saw Flynn's eyes tinged with red and drying streaks down his cheeks.

"What happened? Are you all right?" The last time Flynn had shown up at his house, shivering and distraught, he'd been abducted and tortured by a serial killer. Yuri rushed across the room to check for injuries.

"I'm fine," he mumbled when Yuri reached his side. "Kat's dead."

Yuri froze with his hand reached for Flynn. "She… what? Oh, geeze, I'm sorry, Flynn." He couldn't say he'd ever liked that cat, but he knew she meant a lot to Flynn. "What happened?"

"He killed her."

Yuri didn't have to ask who 'he' was.

"I found her in my room. All… all cut up. He was in my house, Yuri. He snuck into my house and killed my cat." His shoulders shook and fresh tears rose in his eyes. "She never hurt anybody. She was just a c-cat."

Yuri reached for Flynn's shoulder, but as soon as he touched him, Flynn fell against him. "I'm - I'm pathetic, aren't I?" he cried while Yuri awkwardly wrapped one arm around him. "seven people are d-dead, and here I am… c-crying over a… a cat!"

"It's all right. I know you really loved that cat."

"Why is he doing this to me?" He pressed his forehead into Yuri's shoulder. "Everything he's doing… it's all just to mess with me, isn't it? All these people have died because of me."

"Whoa, hold on, you can't go blaming yourself for that."

"What does he want from me? If he'd just tell me, maybe he wouldn't have to kill my cat!"

"I don't know. When we catch him, I'll kick his ass until he tells us." He pulled away from Flynn just enough to guide him to the bed, so they could sit down. Holding Flynn's weight as he leaned against him was getting tiring.

Flynn rubbed his eyes with his sleeves and tried to stop crying. "I need to stop crying over a cat. I'm the commandant. I need to hold myself together."

"You can cry if you need to. No one else is here. As far as I'm concerned, you're just the same old Flynn."

Flynn took a few deep breaths and leaned against Yuri. "I'm going to kill him."

Yuri frowned, not sure he liked the venom in Flynn's voice. "No, you're not. You're Flynn. You don't kill people like that."

"I hate him," Flynn breathed. "I want to make him pay for all the people he's made suffer."

"And you will. Just imagine the look on his face when you arrest him."

Flynn swallowed heavily and took a deep, shaking breath. "Yeah." He rubbed his eyes again to wipe away the last of his tears. "I think… I think I'm ok now." He took a few more deep breaths and then said, "Thanks, Yuri."

"Any time." Yuri had never liked Flynn's cat, but thinking of some bastard sneaking into Flynn's house and murdering an innocent animal pissed him off. There were certain things you just weren't supposed to hurt, and kids and animals were at the top of the list. He really hoped he ran into this guy before Flynn did, because he wanted to beat him to a pulp and Flynn would never let him do that. Still, he held his fury in for Flynn's sake.

Flynn rested his arms on his thighs and leaned forward. "Yuri… I don't feel safe in my own house. Not knowing he was there, and what he did." He raised his head and met Yuri's eyes. "Can I… stay with you?"

Yuri let out a small breath. He could read Flynn's face, and Flynn was asking so much more than if he could just spend the night. There had been too much shared between them over so many years that he didn't have to ask about the unspoken question hidden in the request. Flynn sat so close to him Yuri could feel his rapid heartbeat, not from the grief over Kat but his fear of what Yuri's answer would be. Yuri had never been a man short on words, but now they all stuck in his throat.

The sensible thing to do would be to tell Flynn 'no'. Flynn had too much on his plate to worry about this, too. Flynn needed to stay on his own path, and he didn't need Yuri's corruptive influence getting in the way. But then, he thought about what Estelle had reminded him: Flynn had a right to make his own choices and choose his own path. It was Flynn's life Yuri worried about wrecking, and it wasn't fair to keep the truth from him and rob him of the chance to make his own decisions. He had to be honest.

His heart throbbed and the word came out slow and cautious. "…Yes."

Flynn watched his face carefully. Yuri became acutely aware of every tiny movement in his mouth and brow. Flynn's Adam's apple bobbed and his puffy, red-rimmed eyes showed a glimmer of relief. He whispered, "Really?"

Yuri nodded once, and then instead of answering aloud, he leaned forward. The arm still around Flynn's shoulders pulled him closer, while his other hand landed on the side of Flynn's face. Yuri's little finger brushed the side of Flynn's neck, and he felt Flynn's heart rate skyrocketing. Flynn's eyes opened wider and he struggled to breathe properly. Yuri couldn't say he felt that much more confident. Why was he having such difficulty keeping his hands from shaking? It wasn't like he'd never kissed anyone before. He wasn't an awkward square like Flynn, and yet his heart fluttered like he was fifteen again.

Before he could chicken out, Yuri shut his eyes and closed the gap between their faces. Flynn's lips were rough, chapped from the cold and wind, so different from the soft, feminine lips he was more used to. Flynn stiffened. Worried that he'd gone too far too fast, Yuri pulled back and looked to him questioningly. Flynn gave him an apologetic look, and then wrapped his arms around Yuri's waist and pulled him back.

Flynn didn't know what he was doing. Yuri doubted he'd ever done this before, but Yuri didn't care. This was his Flynn, and he wanted him, awkwardness and all. Flynn's hands slid higher, digging into his back. His nose bumped against Yuri's cheek, so cold compared to the warmth coming from his mouth. Sensations blurred through Yuri's mind: salty tears on his tongue, cold hair twining through his fingers, and soft gasps as Flynn tried to find time to breathe.

Yuri had no way of telling how long it lasted, only that it simultaneously lasted an age while also not lasting nearly long enough. When Flynn pulled back, panted for breath, and stared at him with red cheeks, Yuri smiled and finally answered, "Really."

Flynn leaned in again, this time pressing his face into the crook of Yuri's neck. "I've had a really bad day."

"I know." His hand brushed the back of Flynn's head. "Do you feel any better?"

"A little," he whispered.

"Stay with me tonight. We'll work out where to go next tomorrow."

"Yeah. Ok."

Yuri pulled the blankets back and crawled under them, Flynn close behind him. When Flynn pulled the blankets to his chin and then snuggled closer, Yuri asked, "Are you sure?"

Flynn closed his eyes and pulled himself close against Yuri. "There are very few times I've ever been more sure of how I feel."