Allen awoke but barely, the hazy limbo between sleep and wake. His senses slowly came to him. The soft exhale of breath through the nose, the inhale and following rise of the chest. The fragility of breath, like a still lake, so still the surface is glass and there is no sound.
Nea pressed against Allen's side, his chin resting in the curve of Allen's collarbone, soft breath against Allen's bare skin like feathers brushing his chest. Nea let out an inaudible sigh, but Allen felt it against his chest.
It was moments like this, the warm bed and the silence, no sunlight and no moonlight, that Allen forgot that Nea wasn't human. Only for a split moment, the time it takes to draw breath-Nea seemed human. He more than seemed , he was; and then he wasn't human, the crashing revelation that Allen shared a bed with a ghost.
"I have to go, don't I?" Allen said in borderline whiny voice, more exhaustion than complaint.
"You do have to keep the lights on somehow, and I doubt Cross will let you work at the pub again, not after not showing for a week," Nea said.
"I suppose not," Allen replied.
Allen reminisced on when his life was just bartending: just work, sleep, repeat. Sometimes you'd get an angry drunkard, but compared to the horror of the last week? Allen could laugh.
Nea looked up at Allen, Nea's skin slightly puffy around his golden eyes, giving him a dopey look like a cat waking from a nap. Allen noticed how his eyes were sunken in sinkholes of dark circles, how his cheekbones looked a little more prominent.
"You look terrible," they both said in unison.
They shared a commiserable look, but when Allen looked at him, he couldn't help but wonder why. Why, why was Nea helping him to the point of pure exhaustion, to the point where he couldn't physically manifest? A million other questions circled in his mind, questions mostly revolving around their interrupted conversation last night.
Allen started, "Last night, you were going to tell me-"
"Oh, it's much too early to get into that. My brain doesn't work before seven," Nea replied, rubbing at his eyes.
Allen glared in Nea's direction, the other pretending to be completely oblivious in a sleepy daze. It seemed the more Allen got closer to Nea, the more distance Nea tried to create. Allen's glare fizzled out into a look of defeat, eyebrows pinched as he bit at the inside of his cheek.
"It's not important. Nothing to make that abysmal of a face over," Nea said cautiously when he noticed Allen.
"You just," Allen spoke very quietly, almost in a whisper, "You shut me out in that flippant way, every time I try to get to know you. And I let it go every time, but Nea, this isn't a one-way street."
Nea sighed, exhaling not in frustration but in something else, breath against Allen's chest recognizable but the emotion behind it not.
"Why can't it be that way? Why do you need to know anything about me, Allen? I'm just an annoying spirit bothering you. There's nothing to get to know." Nea finally replied.
Nea avoided eye contact as Allen yearned to understand how he was feeling. Allen bit deeper into his cheek and opened his mouth to speak, then stopped for a moment.
"Why, really," Allen murmured, when he realized Nea's emotion, "I didn't realize before, but there's a reason you close yourself off from me, isn't there? You're afraid of something."
Nea looked up at him, worried and pensive, and then he looked away. He responded in a quick and hesitant tone, "I'm terrified, terrified of you shutting me out again. The days when you chain smoked and ignored me and I-"
Allen pondered an ignored existence, with only one person on Earth to hear you, yet they ignored you. The silence of it all would be deafening, so lonely but with no escape.
"You think I'll shut you out again, if I get to know you? Really?" Allen asked.
Nea, pinched eyebrows and golden irises full of worry, bit at his lip as he looked at Allen. Allen smiled softly, then let out a little laugh.
"At this point, I couldn't shut you out if I tried, Nea. We're a team, for better or worse. At the same time, it's hard to trust you when I know next to nothing," Allen said.
The flight in Nea's eyes thawed, but did not dissipate completely. Nea quickly masked this in a honeyed glaze with so much energy it was as if he'd captured sunlight in his irises.
"I know you want answers, and I'll try my best." Nea paused, then spoke as though he were reading from a book. "Truthfully, I don't know why I'm here. I have no memories of a past life, only the one I've lived with you."
"That sounds like it would be," Allen stopped, grasping for an adjective that didn't invoke pity. Frightening, frustrating, perplexing - any word he thought up only painted Nea in suffering.
"It is what it is. I've spent too much time wracking my brain for an answer to only come up empty. You always want to know things about me, but there's," Nea looked away, "nothing to get to know."
"That isn't true," Allen responded.
Nea abruptly changed the topic. "About the basement, why it took so long for me to help- I don't have it down to an exact science, but I know there's a certain available energy in the world. It comes in different forms, like electromagnetic fields and electricity, things like that. Because I don't have a body of my own, I have to depend on the energy around you to do anything, like talk or manifest my presence."
"So that's the reason I pay so much for utilities," Allen said sarcastically, grinning when Nea glowered.
"Missing the point, Walker, and it's not that noticeable. What I mean is that when you're in the city, there's plenty of energy around for me to use. When you're in an abandoned church, miles from civilization, with another ghost using what little available energy there is-"
"You can't do squat, huh?"
Nea shot him another pointed look for interrupting. "Not exactly. I'm not quite sure how it works, but every human has their own unique energy field. I can steal from your energy, but I have no idea how that affects you, so I haven't. Or hadn't, until the fight in the basement."
"I feel completely fine, save for sleep deprivation. Nothing to worry about," Allen said.
Nea eyed him warily, but shook it off. "Good. That's also why Kanda's taser didn't work on Chaoji. Chaoji was so consumed by the ghost that it just ended up fueling the spirit. Speaking of which, how do you plan on explaining what happened in the basement in your report?"
"My report? My-" Allen's eyes widened and he looked over at the clock.
"Shit!" He should've already arrived at the station according to the clock. Allen abruptly threw himself out of bed to get dressed.
"I'll call a taxi, then," Nea said with a sigh.
Allen threw on new clothes, tossing the bloody remnants of yesterday into an overflowing hamper. As he buttoned up his shirt, he noticed the bandages from his left arm coming loose. Underneath was not the gnarled, pinkish burns from the apartment fire he knew so well. He glanced over at Nea, who had the landline cradled on his shoulder, lost in a conversation.
Allen slowly unraveled the stained bandages up to his elbow, completely unnerved by his now jet black skin underneath. It wasn't any shade of melanin, instead, it looked as though he'd tattooed every inch of his left arm in black ink. Allen pinched the smooth skin then let go, watching it settle back in place unlike scar tissue. Like regular, good old skin. He did this four or five times more, observing in disbelief.
"You almost ready? Taxi should be here in five," Nea called out.
"Right, yeah, let me just grab my coat," Allen answered, quickly covering his arm.
His rational brain figured this might be some sort of side effect from Nea borrowing his energy. However, he swallowed that thought and swallowed the next five thoughts after.
"I guess we can come up with a convincing story for Lee and the obnoxious one while we're in the car," Nea said with a sigh.
Allen sat quietly in Lenalee's office, in a chair adjacent to Kanda. Kanda buried his face in a file, pursed lips and hunkered eyebrows, as they waited for Lenalee to return with the paperwork. Allen could tell that he was stifling a very strong urge to berate Allen for being late, barely succeeding as he quietly fumed into the manila folder. In response, Allen nervously bounced his leg like a jackhammer and stared at the floor, hoping that Lenalee would end this unbearable tension. The clock on the wall ticked quietly, the only sound in the room.
Kanda let out a heavy sigh and let the folder fall to his lap. Allen was lost in thought, wondering how to smoothly tell a plausible story to Lenalee and Kanda. A soft touch on his knee dragged him back to reality. Kanda didn't look over at him, but placed his hand on Allen's knee as it uncontrollably bounced up and down. The touch was comforting; Allen slowly stopped bouncing his leg. Even as Allen's leg calmed to a stop, Kanda's hand lingered for a moment before he withdrew the touch.
The door opened, revealing Lenalee with a stack of papers in her arms. Lenalee sat down at the worn desk in front of them, flipping on the desk lamp. "Alright guys, let's get down to business. I know everyone's exhausted, but if we don't cross our t's and dot our i's on this case, it could end in disaster. Oh, Allen, how are your hands?"
"All stitched up," Allen said with a wave.
Kanda shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He quietly asked, "They don't hurt too badly, do they? Your hands, I mean."
Allen noticed Kanda's discomfort as the other couldn't look him in the eye. Allen clasped his hands together.
"My hands don't hurt at all. I wouldn't even notice a problem if it weren't for the stitches," Allen lied in an attempt to soothe Kanda's guilt.
"Right," Kanda replied half-heartedly.
"I'm just glad you're both alright. Although, Allen," Lenalee had a hard expression, "you jeopardised your life, Kanda's, and a child's life with your rash behavior. Completely unacceptable. You're lucky to have made it out with just those wounds. Why didn't you wait for backup?"
Allen gulped as he felt Kanda and Lenalee's eyes on him. He looked at his hands and responded, "It's not like I didn't realize it was a stupid idea, I just can't stand the idea of someone hurting when there's something I can do."
Lenalee's eyes softened. She said, "I understand the sentiment behind your actions. However, I have to defend sending you, a consultant rather than an officer, alone, to arrest the criminal in the most high profile case this station has seen. If you had waited for Kanda and Tyki-"
"If Allen had waited, the kid would be knee deep in cement," Kanda said.
Allen blinked, taken aback- was Kanda defending him?
Lenalee sighed and responded, "Regardless, neither of you followed protocol. This case has mistrial written all over it, unless the three of us can come up with a plausible explanation for why you trespassed on private property. The anagram of Sean Murphy that the ferryman gave Allen isn't even close to circumstantial evidence, nor probable cause."
"You mean the Entomber could walk out of here, free, because of a technicality?" Allen asked in disbelief.
"With the right lawyer," Lenalee nodded, "we have nothing substantial to link him to the other murders. Even Sean attacking you both could be seen as self defense, since you two were trespassing with no probable cause. Although, he hasn't said a word nor asked for a lawyer since we put him in an interrogation room. He just stares straight ahead with dead eyes."
Allen fell back in his chair, feeling defeated. His rash behavior could lead to Chaoji's release, free to entomb the children still missing.
"It's obvious he's the Entomber, though. We'll just have to work a confession out of him. He'll walk out of here a free man over my dead body," Kanda said while cracking his knuckles.
"We have less than 24 hours to get a confession. If the day ends, and we have nothing, we'll probably have to release him," Lenalee said quietly.
Kanda, Allen, and Lenalee fabricated a story for their report that wouldn't end in mistrial. Allen relaxed as he left Lenalee's office, relieved that he didn't have to explain the truth of what happened in the basement.
"Bartender," Kanda said as they stood outside Lenalee's office.
The morning light filtered in the hall through the lattice windows. The sun was rising in a vibrant orange display, like a slice of citrus on the horizon. The light caught Kanda's features: sunlight in his dusky bangs, prominent jaw that could slice an apple, shadow eyes gazing through dawn eyelashes. Allen was taken by his beauty for a moment, staring at his soft lips, wondering how they would feel pressed against his own.
"Oi, bartender," Kanda repeated.
Allen felt a blush creeping over his cheeks as he attempted to stop his train of thought. Kanda eyed him with a strange look.
Nea's voice popped out of the shadows."What are you thinking about that's got you blushing like that?"
"Yeah, sorry," Allen replied quickly, actively ignoring Nea.
"I want to know what happened in the basement, after I was knocked out," Kanda said, pulling him aside by the arm.
"Don't worry about it. It all happened so quickly I hardly know what happened, myself," Allen said quickly, adding a fake laugh.
"You're hiding something. No, you've been hiding something since the moment you started working here," Kanda said, his tone shifting serious, suspicious, gripping Allen's forearm a little tighter.
Allen jerked his arm free from Kanda's grip. "Christ, why don't you come right out and say you don't trust me? Save the interrogation for the Entomber, would you?"
Allen's words lit a fire in Kanda's eyes, a mix of irritation and indignation brewing like storm clouds over the sea. Folding his arms, Allen glared back.
"It's not that I don't trust you, idiot, it's," Kanda paused and exhaled through his nose, "Whatever. Think what you want. Why are you avoiding a simple question?"
"Maybe if you ask nicely, possibly throw in a pretty please, I'll tell you," Allen responded sarcastically.
"I want an answer, Walker," Kanda said fiercely, "There's no reason either of us should be alive. There's also no plausible way that you took down a man twice your size."
Allen sighed. "Fine. I used your taser. Simple as that."
"So, while you had both hands gripping a knife, you grew a third arm, grabbed the taser that magically worked this time, and subdued a serial killer," Kanda deadpanned.
"Exactly," Allen said with a bittersweet smile.
Kanda shifted into full annoyance, rolling his eyes. "Why won't you tell me the truth?"
"It's more fun this way," Allen replied snarkily.
Really, Allen didn't have an answer for Kanda.
Kanda glared, put his hands on his hips, and settled on replying, "I'm going to find out, one way or another, Bartender. I'll leave it alone for now, only because I have to try to squeeze a couple words out of a serial killer. Go get some rest, God knows you look like you need it."
Kanda's hair waved goodbye as he turned to walk down the hall. Allen absently brought a glove to his lips while biting the inside of his cheek.
"Uhm, wait," Allen called out.
Kanda stopped but didn't turn around, folding his arms and posture stiffening like a bothered cat. "No way. Go home."
"You don't even know what I was going to say," Allen offered, walking towards him.
"Yes I do. You want to help with the interrogation, even though you haven't been trained. On top of that, the man stabbed you less than 18 hours ago," Kanda shook his head, "No fucking way."
"Don't be dramatic," Allen fawned as he followed Kanda down the hall, "Chaoji's in handcuffs. Besides, he thinks we're cousins-he might open up to me. Rather, there's a better chance he'll talk to me than a stern-faced officer accusing him of murder."
They stopped in front of a room at the end of the hall, a worn placard reading "Interrogation Room 4" stood out from the dull eggshell walls.
Kanda replied, "Do I want to know why he thinks you're both cousins? You know what, I don't. The man withstood a taser without even blinking. I doubt handcuffs would be a problem if he has a meltdown. No."
Kanda entered the interrogation room and slammed the door in Allen's wake. Allen stared at the door in anger for a moment, knowing it was unlocked, also knowing that incurring Kanda's temper wasn't the best idea.
"He's right, you know. If that spirit gets riled up enough, it could easily break through the handcuffs. Besides, Allen, you need sleep," Nea said, popping out of the shadows and appearing before him.
"I see you're feeling better, since you're able to manifest again. I'm glad," Allen responded.
Nea looked surprised, expression fading into the warmth of a hot cup of cocoa in winter. "Fluorescent lights make it easy, no matter how dreadful they are on my complexion," Nea's joking tone faded into a soft voice, "Thank you for caring."
Allen smiled, in that bright and full manner like the split second of a shooting star. "Of course."
The interrogation room door opened, and Tyki emerged from the entrance. Allen caught a glimpse of Chaoji, on the other side of glass in the split room. Kanda was sitting opposite from Chaoji, a metal desk separating them. Chaoji slumped in his chair, staring straight ahead, with hands attached to the handcuffs on the desk. His eyes held no life in them. The door closed.
All at once, Allen felt an outpouring of guilt and pity for Chaoji. He wondered if the man had been fully consumed by the ghost possessing him, incapable of returning to the person who tended to Allen's forehead when he fell off the bike. He wondered if Chaoji had to watch his own body kill those children, the women from the shop, every victim; screaming internally to try to stop himself.
Tyki didn't notice Allen at first, and patted himself down in search of cigarettes. His dark curls were loosely tied back, the raven hair spilling over his chest and shoulder. Allen noticed his eyes held the same fatigue as Kanda, Lenalee, Fou: everyone's eyes at this point.
"Oh, Allen, what a pleasant surprise," Tyki said, attempting to hide the worn timber to his voice.
"Tyki, everything okay?" Allen said softly.
Tyki fumbled with his cigarettes once he found them, nearly lighting one indoors before he noticed Allen's concern. He flipped the zippo shut and sighed.
"Would you like to join me for a cigarette?" Tyki responded, eyeing a passerby in the hall.
Allen looked over at Nea for approval. Nea shrugged, responded, "Fill me in on what he says."
Clouds overtook the bright morning sun, giving the red brick of the station a muted hue. They hung low and heavy, ready to release rain and slush and the inevitable fog after. Tyki sat on a bench underneath an awning, body creaking like a poorly oiled hinge. The man's eyes were as clouded as the sky, a dark emotion overtaking his usual nonchalant demeanor. He cupped a hand over his lighter and lit a cigarette.
"I'm sure you've realized," Tyki took a long drag, exhaled, "the Entomber is possessed. There's no fathomable way to make a ghost confess. There's no way to prosecute a ghost, either. There's no way to make a ghost tell you where four children are. An innocent man is headed for a life in prison, and there's not a thing I can do. It's frustrating."
Allen sat down next to Tyki and lit his own cigarette. Allen said, "Tyki, honestly, you aren't the type to get worked up over the moral question of justice, right and wrong. In fact, the more I think about it, you aren't the type to work as a cop at all."
"Maybe I've been hanging around you too long. Maybe I've started to care. Why am I a cop? Hah," Tyki exhaled smoke with a little laugh, a sad, quiet laugh.
"You met Road, Wisely's sister, correct?" Tyki asked.
Allen was confused by the shift in topic. "I mean, yes, I have. What does that have to do with you being a cop?"
"She was murdered three years ago. She's a ghost, Allen, bonded to Wisely because she can't move on. So I figured if I could find her killer, maybe," Tyki looked at his hands, "maybe she could find a little peace."
"I'm sorry for your loss. I didn't realize," Allen trailed off, piecing together how Road might know Nea with this new information. He put that thought away for later. "Did you ever find her murderer?"
"That's the thing, Allen. I found her killer, but the poor sap was none the wiser than the kid sitting in our interrogation room. The truth is," Tyki stopped, noticing his cigarette burned out. He lit another. "Nevermind. Have you gone to see Anita?"
"Wait, what were you going to say?" Allen asked earnestly.
"Oh, Anita explains things much better than me. I need you to visit her shop and pick up some sage. It's only a couple blocks away," Tyki said, stubbing out his cigarette on his shoe.
Allen blinked. "Sage?"
Tyki rubbed the stubble on his jaw. "It's a last ditch effort to break through to the possessed kid. I lit a cigarette in the room, and he seemed human for a moment. I don't know."
"Sure I can go," Allen added, "Any reason you're sending me?"
Tyki stood up and caught a raindrop in his palm as he stared up at the slate sky. "You've accidentally stumbled into the grey space between the living and the dead, like Alice falling down the rabbit hole. It's a tightrope walk, a wire that will eventually snap, and I fear you'll fall the wrong way when it does. Your ghost grows stronger each time I see you, you know? His presence is as if you walk around with a boombox on your shoulders."
"It's not what you think, no, he's not at all what you think," Allen responded fiercely, "Before, you said all ghosts are malicious-what does that make Road?"
"An exception. Nea is not what you know him to be. You're either going to end up dead or as his puppet," Tyki responded with an intensity in his eyes, standing up and getting close to Allen as he spoke.
"Tyki," Allen tried to swallow his anger, couldn't, "how do you know his name? Why won't you tell me what's really going on?"
Tyki glared back at Allen's furious gaze for a moment, then closed his eyes. "Go see Anita."
Clenching his fists, Allen watched Tyki walk back inside, greet Fou as if nothing had happened. Allen sat back down on the bench as the rain picked up, running his hands through his damp, white hair. There was a truth in Tyki's words that Allen couldn't bring himself to face-that Nea was dangerous, devilish, a denizen of death.
Nea's voice popped out from the white noise of the rain. "What'd Tyki have to say?"
Allen regained his composure and evenly responded, "Nothing, really. He wants me to go pick up some sage from a little tobacco shop. Shall we?"