I am so sorry for how long this chapter took.
-/-
Evie almost wants to stay on the floor with Freddie until the world stops hurting and things make sense again. But that's not how the world works. Things don't just get better, not unless someone else steps up to the plate and fights. If there's anything that Evie's original, decades-long search for Jacob had taught her, it's that. Jacob is not going to come home unless Evie stands up and fights, and so that's what she does. And maybe her legs shake a little bit underneath her, maybe she's a little pale and a little hunched over, but she's ready.
"Evie," Freddie calls from behind her. He's standing as well now, looking tired. "You really don't have to do this. I can take over from here."
"No, Freddie," Evie says. "He's my brother."
"And you've been hurt," Freddie says. Evie doesn't argue. It's true, she has been. So what? "Come on, Evie, please. This is what the police are here for."
"Why do you keep trying to stop me?" Evie demands. "Why does everyone keep trying to stop me?"
Freddie closes the distance between them in two quick steps, and puts his hands on her shoulders. "Because if you find your brother, you find Jack, too. And when you find Jack, he's only going to let that play out in one of two ways. Either he kills you, or you kill him."
Evie hesitates. "Yes," she says. "I know."
"I don't want you to die," Freddie says. "And Jack is really, really good at killing."
"I won't let him do that to me," Evie says. But her voice is hollow. She doesn't want to kill Jack either, not really. She's seen what all the killing he'd done when he was younger had done to Jacob. It had left a stain somewhere inside him, and even all these years later, Evie doesn't think Jacob has been able to scrub it away.
"I'll figure something out," she says aloud.
Freddie steps back—shakes his head. "Isn't there any way you'll let me help?" he asks.
Evie almost says no, jus tout of instinct. But to be honest, she really does need him. "Look," she says, and hurries into the bedroom to grab the phone Jack had left behind. She pulls up the call history and finds the single outgoing call listed there. "Jack used this phone to call another one. Jacob was there, with that mobile he called—can you trace the number and find out where the phone is?"
Freddie takes out a pen and copies the number down on the back of his hand. "Yes," he says. "As long as the phone is on and getting a signal, I can track it from the GPS." And then he's hurrying toward the door, calling "Wait here," over his shoulder.
"Okay," Evie says, softly.
"I'll call as soon as I know anything."
And then he's gone, and Evie is alone. She paces the room uneasily for a while, letting unhappy thoughts chase each other around and around in her mind. Then she cleans herself up, washes her face and her hands. Her phone is dying and she can't afford to miss Freddie's call, so she hunts through Jacob's mess until she finds a charger. Jacob had bought the same model phone that Evie has, so at least the charger fits. And then Evie sits. And she waits.
And eventually, her phone rings. It's Freddie.
"Did you track the number?" Evie blurts when she picks up.
"Yes," Freddie says. "But you're not going to like it."
"I haven't liked anything at all that's happened today," Evie snaps. "Just tell me."
"He's in the Alhambra," Freddie says. The phone line goes dead silent for a moment.
"Of course he is," Evie says. She's shaking because it's not even fair, that place has to many memories for Jacob, just being there must be a special kind of pain for him. Evie knows he hasn't gone near the place since Roth died. He owns the property, he owns everything Roth had once owned, but he hasn't done anything at all with it apart from paying to clear out the burned wreck of the building. And he'd only done that because the city kept coming after him about it being a safety hazard. Since then, he's avoided offers from people wanting to buy the land, offers to redevelop, literally everything. The place is off limits, that's the message he's clearly trying to project.
Once, after a couple drinks, he'd told Evie the only thing he'd ever consider putting there would be a cemetery.
"How?" Evie asks, when it becomes obvious that Freddie isn't going to say anything. "There's nothing there, it's just an empty lot."
"Something underground, maybe," Freddie says. "Service tunnels, basements. If anything survived the fire it would have been something like that. And when the building was cleared away, I doubt they would have bothered with anything below surface level."
"Underground," Evie says. "Thanks, Freddie. I'll look there."
When Freddie answers, there's just enough hesitation in his answer and in his voice to raise flags in Evie's mind. "Sure," he says. "I told you I'd let you know what I found out, and I have."
"But?" Evie prompts.
"But don't come down here," Freddie says. "Please."
Here. Don't come here, not don't go there.
"You're there already," Evie says. "Did you bring more police with you? Are you going after Jacob without me?"
"We're going after Jack," Freddie corrects. "Evie, he's a serial killer. You are not an officer of the law, and I am not going to let you put yourself in harm's way. If you—"
Evie makes a strangled, screaming noise of mingled anger and frustration. She can feel her self control slipping, but it's been a long couple of days and where it comes to Jacob she doesn't trust anyone else to get it right. "I can't believe you, Freddie! I can't believe—"
"Evie!"
She doesn't even hang up on him, she just drops her phone and takes off running, out of the apartment, down the stair, and as fast as she can up the street. It's not a far run, of course it's not. Jacob had chosen the rooms when Roth was still alive, when the most important thing in Jacob's life had been keeping himself close to Roth. It still feels like it takes forever to get to the Alhambra, but when she finally does get there, Evie knows it hasn't taken all that long at all.
There's a heavy police presence around the property when Evie arrives, so she forces herself to stop a fair distance away to take in the scene. She tracks police movement, and her eyes finally fall on the little awning on one end that looks like a hastily erected command center.
Freddie will be there, no doubt, and Evie makes a note to avoid it. Freddie will stop her.
She sees the large dip in the ground where police are climbing down what looks like a set of stairs. All of them are heavily armed and armored, and all Evie can think about is Jacob getting caught in the crossfire when these men finally find Jack. Evie considers going in after them, but they'll stop her, too. There has to be some other way down, something less obvious maybe. Something. Anything. Please.
She finds it at last, a small hole with ladder access in what she remembers as once having been in an alley. It looks too small for the armored police to use, but someone has clearly been climbing down it recently. The entire lot has been partially reclaimed by nature in the dozen years since the theatre burned. Grass and other plants, even trees saplings, have started to grown in the thin dirt. But just here, someone has cleared all that away. Jack?
Evie is at the ladder and climbing down in an instant. At the bottom it's cold and dark and still smells a bit like ashes. Evie's eyes strain against the darkness but it doesn't help. In the end, when she moves forward again, she does so completely blind.
The tunnels under the Alhambra are a confusing maze. Evie tries to imagine what these places would look like if she could see them, what they might have been used for. Service passages, maybe, or maintenance. Dressing rooms for actors, storage, who knows? They're nothing but a crumbling labyrinth now. They still smell faintly of ash, even after all this time.
She can hear people shouting from… somewhere. The way their voices echo and reverberate along the hallways means they could be nearly anywhere. Evie does her best to avoid them, taking odd turns and occasionally doubling back. It means it takes forever to make progress, but it's better than being caught and sent away.
And then suddenly Evie sees a glimmer of light from up ahead. She slows down, moving slowly to keep her footsteps from echoing as she gets close. There's not a lot of light, and when she gets closer she sees why. The light is coming from a pair of flashlights, the only light in a room that looks like it had once been a dressing room. It's full of clutter now, and it looks like someone's been living there. There's a camp bed in one corner, empty beer cans, a smattering of fast food bags. Apart from the grimness of the actual location, nothing in here would have looked out of place in the bedroom of a particularly messy teenager.
Evie stares for a long moment at the stuffed cow that has been placed with what looks like a kind of delicate care on top of the camp bed. It looks out of place here, and she almost hesitates. Then someone hits her on the side of the head.
It's a hard blow, and Evie staggers, but she does know how to fight, she'd once done it well, and often. She lashes back out of pure reflex, and feels a surge of vicious triumph when she recognizes the voice that grunts in pain.
"Jack," she hisses.
"Evie Frye." In this room, lit only by flashlights, he looks almost like a demon, shadowy and half invisible. Evie doesn't care. She would fight anything, anything at all, demons included, to get Jacob back.
"Where is he?" Evie asks, and the only reason she does not immediately continue her attack is that she needs him to tell her where Jacob is. And Jack does not exactly answer, but he tenses, body turning ever so slightly toward a door set in the wall behind him. It's answer enough, and Evie lashes out again.
The fight that follows is like none she has ever experienced. There are no words, no wasted movements. Just grunts of excursion and occasionally pain. Evie's mind narrows in focus until it is only working on a single level. Normally, when she fights, she thinks strategically. She lines up her blows, tries to position herself and her opponent so she can do the maximum amount of damage. She enjoys a certain level of elegance, almost grace, when she fights.
Not now. Evie is thinking only of hurting Jack, she is thinking one punch at a time. She is not in control of this fight the way she normally is, she is scarcely in control of herself. In any other circumstances, Jack's greater strength and the natural advantages of youth would have let him win the day.
But this is for Jacob, and where he is concerned Evie allows herself no room for failure.
In the end, when it is over….
Evie is hurt. She is bleeding and bruised in a dozen places, and when she takes a step forward she limps. Her leg shakes and shudders under her, it feels like something's broken. But Jack's—well, he's not dead. He's out cold, twisted and broken, and Evie steps over him to get to the door that leads to Jacob. Killing him was never the point. Let Freddie's men arrest him, Evie doesn't care anymore. All she ever wanted was to get her brother back.
She starts out walking slowly, because of her bad leg, but after only a few steps she realizes she can hear something. It's something between a ragged, uneven breathing and a kind of high pitched, keening cry. Impossible, almost, to believe that sound could come from Jacob. But Evie speeds up anyway, into a sort of shuffle, and then into a painful run. She skids to a stop at the end of the hallway, heart breaking at the sight in front of her.
Jacob is curled up with his back to her, crying and shaking. The light here is no better than it had been in Jack's room, and Evie refuses to start cataloging Jacob's injuries until she can see them more clearly. Surely—surely they can't be as bad as they look. They can't…
Evie realizes abruptly that Jacob's shuddering sobs have changed to some kind of whispered plea, and she steps closer until she is near enough to his whispered apologies, his promises to be good, and she is so, so sad because her brother is strong and Jack had just broken him to pieces.
"Jacob," Evie whispers. She kneels next to him and hugs him tight. "Jacob, it's okay. I'm here. I'm here…"
"Evie…?"
"Yea."
"You're real." His fingers, cold and brittle, creep forward until he's holding her hand. Evie can feel sharp indentations on his wrists where he'd been tied up at some point. She doesn't know why Jack had untied him, but she guesses it might have something to do with the fact that Jacob is obviously too broken to run.
"I am," she agrees.
"You came for me," Jacob whispers, and Evie holds him more tightly. "I can't believe you came…"
"Of course I did," Evie says. "I always will."
They stay there, wrapped up together, until finally they hear the sound of approaching footsteps, and what sounds like the police dealing with Jack. She hears someone reading him his rights, and then someone else heads toward her and Jacob. Evie pulls Jacob tighter into herself, and turns to watch the door. But it's only Freddie, and Evie relaxes a little when she sees him.
"I thought I'd find you here," he says. "I hoped I wouldn't, but…"
He trails off helplessly, and Evie nods at Jacob. "He needs to be in hospital," she says.
"You both do," Freddie says. He turns back to call for someone to help them, and Evie tilts her head closer to Jacob.
"It's over," she whispers. "It's over."
-/-
Six Months Later
-/-
It is not over, of course. After Jacob is rescued, he still has to recover, and that is a very long road. In the beginning, when he is little more than a mess of injuries, Jacob is taken to hospital and put in an induced coma until the worst of his wounds start to heal. Evie stays with him as much as she is allowed, more and more as time wears on and his condition improves from critical to dangerous and finally to stable. Henry is there with her as well, often, as is their daughter. Even Ethan Frye makes an appearance, although he has never been good with hospitals and death.
Not that he's going to die, as Evie is quick to tell anyone that asks. He can't, not after everything she'd been through to get him back.
After he wakes, when his body is beginning to heal, there is still his mind to be concerned with. There are days, early days, bad days, when he doesn't seem to know where he is or why. And there are nights when he calls out for his sister, crying like his heart is broken, like he doesn't believe he'll ever see her again, like the memory of Jack's torture is stronger than the reality of his rescue.
Evie stays the night as often as she can, sitting up beside Jacob and holding his hands until he quiets and goes calm.
"You should go," he tells her a month or so after he comes out of his coma.
"Go?" Evie echoes. "No, Jacob. You need me."
"But you have Henry," Jacob says. "And Nadia. You shouldn't be spending all your time here with me."
"I'm not leaving you," Evie says. Her face is tired, more lined than it had been before Jacob's kidnapping, and there is obvious regret in her voice. "I…do want to go home. But I won't go until I can take you with me."
"He broke me," Jacob mumbles. He stares at his hands and draws his eyebrows together like he's either thinking very hard or trying not to cry. "I was doing okay, Evie."
"I know you were," Evie assures him. "And you'll be okay again, you just need time."
"No," Jacob says. "No, I can't—I can't get past this, I just keep thinking…because it's all my fault, right? If it hadn't been my fault then maybe it wouldn't matter so much but it is my fault so I deserve everything he did—"
"Jacob, no," Evie says. "You can't honestly think that being kidnapped and tortured was something you brought on yourself. Jack's a murderer and a madman. What happened to you only happened because of him."
Jacob shakes his head. "But it's my fault he was like that."
"No," Evie says.
"I was cruel to him when he was a kid," Jacob says. "He looked up to me and I told him he was useless and I didn't want him."
"He's mad," she says. "Jacob, listen, Jack is absolutely, certifiably insane. He picked this one little moment to fixate on, and that's had awful consequences for you. But honestly, that was one bad experience in a childhood that I imagine was full of cruelties. He would have grown up twisted and broken with or without you."
"So you think people are just… born bad?" Jacob asks. "So Jack was always going to grow up the way he did?"
Evie hesitates. "I don't know," she says. "Maybe in another lifetime, if he'd grown up with parents that loved him, if he'd had friends, if things were different, he might have been a normal kid. But that's not what happened, and the point I'm trying to make is that your one comment can't have made that much of a difference. You absolutely cannot blame yourself."
"But I do," Jacob says. "Because he used to be… I mean he was a messed up kid, but…he used to smile."
"So did you," Evie says, but Jacob either doesn't hear her or pretends not to.
And there are many other conversations in this vein in the weeks that follow. But slowly, ever so slowly, Jacob seems to start to believe Evie when she tells him it's not his fault. Bit by bit, the wounds Jack has left on his psyche fade into scars. And then one day, when Jacob is mostly in one piece again, body and mind, his doctor tells him he's ready to go.
"I don't feel ready," Jacob says.
"Well, you've been through a trauma," the doctor says, carefully. "It will take time to fully recover. I can suggest several very good therapists, if you need help finding someone."
"No," Jacob mutters. "I'm okay."
"You should definitely talk to someone," his doctor presses. "You were held captive by a serial killer, that's not something you get over quickly."
"I'm going to talk to my sister," Jacob tells him. "She can help me more than any therapist."
His doctor gives him a skeptical look, but Jacob is stubborn and refuses to give so much as an inch. In the end, the poor man only shakes his head and gives up. Jacob has paperwork to fill out, a lot of it, and then he limps his way downstairs. He walks out the front doors, squinting a little in the face of the early afternoon light, and then smiles.
"You came," he says.
"Of course I did," Evie says. "Your doctor called to say you were coming home, and I wasn't going to let you make the trip alone."
"I'm going home," Jacob says, and the way he smiles at it is like the full meaning of the words is only just beginning to hit him. "I'm really going home."
Evie smiles, and holds out her hand for him. Jacob takes it, and they start walking. Slowly but surely, with Jacob half leaning against Evie, they walk.
"It's not far," Evie promises.
"I know," Jacob says. "Home's wherever you are, and you're right here."
Evie laughs, a little self-conscious but clearly pleased. "I meant the car's not far," she says. "We don't have to walk for long."
Jacob shrugs, like it doesn't matter, and smiles, like having Evie at his side is all he cares about. "Tell me it's all going to be okay," he says. "Tell me…everything's going to be normal again. Henry and Nadia are waiting for you, and the Rooks are waiting for me, and dad's being weird and distant again…"
Evie nods, and some of the tension in Jacob's shoulders eases. "Everything's going to be normal," she promises. "I talked to Henry and Nadia this morning, they're so excited to see both of us again. And your Rooks are going mad with boredom without you around. And dad…well, you know how he is, he can't stand visiting people in hospital. But he calls me every morning, he's been so worried about you."
"And," Jacob presses. "It's all going to be okay?"
"It's all going to be okay," Evie assures him.
"Good," Jacob says. "Good…"
The two of them walk to the end of the block, moving with agonizing slowness thanks to Jacob's still-present limp. But Evie doesn't push him, she just stays by his side, an ever present support. The two of them are so close in this moment that as they get farther and farther away, as they start to fade into the distance, they almost look like one unified being. They look whole, because they are together.
Then they turn a corner, disappearing behind a building—
And they are gone.