Chapter Thirteen

Ian could feel himself losing control of his body, and he could see himself in a pure white room, with Shaw. "What are you doing here?" Ian asked.

"I'd ask you the same question," Shaw replied. "I can tell you want to die right now."

"You're dead."

"Yes, but that's no reason why you should be."

"Why not?"

"It's simple, Ian. I remember when you made me swear I wouldn't leave you, and you believe that, by dying, I've left you."

"So how does that have anything to do with the fact that I shouldn't be dead?"

"I never left. Remember all the times you've seen me around?" Ian nodded, and Shaw continued, "That's me, alright. You're not crazy, and I haven't left you. If you stay alive, you are in no danger of losing me."

"Am I not?"

"No, you're not. Trust me, Ian."

"I do, you know that."

"But you don't trust yourself."

Ian lowered his gaze and licked his upper lip. "It's been hard, Shaw, trying to move on."

"I know. I've seen it. I can't leave you, you know that."

"I know, but I need you. I need you to stay."

"I told you. I never left." Shaw tilted his head for a moment, looking off into the corner of the room. When he returned his attention to Ian, he added, "You need to go."

"Swear to me you won't leave."

"You have my word, Ian."

Ian allowed the room to fade, and for a moment, he contemplated slipping under completely, but then he could feel himself in his own body, hear the monitors beeping around him and the doctors discussing amongst themselves, some with tones of awe, others with disbelief. He could feel the thin sheets and flimsy mattress of the hospital bed.

He gained enough awareness of himself to hear Tanya whispering, "Please wake up, Ian." Almost as if of their own accord, his eyes fluttered open. Tanya sighed and bowed her head.

"No make-up?" he asked weakly.

She shook her head, and a grin threatened to split her face in two, or as far as Ian could tell when she met his eyes. "How was surgery?" she asked.

"I don't remember, so it must've been uneventful."

"I'm pretty sure you were unconscious through all of it."

"That's another worthy explanation."

"So, as far as I can judge, we've got a resident poltergeist."

"Oh? Who?"

"Shaw."

Ian nodded. "I don't think he's crossing over any time soon."

She noticed the slight smile playing across his lips, and she smiled in return. "Looks like he truly is a man of his word."

"Part of the reason why I hired him."

She chuckled, and after that her smile faded. "I'd better go. Looks like you need your rest."

Ian nodded and glanced off to the corner, smiling at the now familiar sight of Shaw's transparent form watching him. Tanya slipped out of the hospital room without attracting any unwanted attention.

NTNT

Riley turned the key in his convertible as Tanya slipped into the passenger's seat and buckled her seat belt. "How is he?" he asked.

"He woke up," she replied. "He actually woke up when I asked him to."

"Finally get him to listen to you, huh?"

"You could say that."

"So, uh, do you?"

"Do I what?"

"Do you trust me?"

She chewed her lip and stared at the scenery outside the windshield. "Yes," she finally said. "I trust you."

"I mean, what with what little I did-"

"You tried. That's more than I can say for most others."

Riley blushed, and Tanya smiled. When he reached her apartment building and parked in the half-empty lot, he gently pulled her close and kissed her on the lips for half a second. "I'll come back tomorrow. I promise."

"I know you will," she whispered, slipping out of the convertible. "I'll see you then."

He waited until she walked into the apartment building before pulling out of the lot and driving over to his own apartment complex.

NTNT

"What'd I miss?" Ben asked when Riley walked into the house he shared with Abigail.

Riley grinned as he set his laptop case on the coffee table. "A lot," he said with a slight laugh.

NTNT

Tanya collapsed on her couch, rubbing her hands up her face until her fingers were fully entwined in her hair. "I really need to see that page," she said. "There's more to it. There has to be. There always is."

One of her hands drifted down to the Viscount's Compass, which she wore around her neck, and after a moment, she opened it. The needle pointed just a few degrees to the right of the tick mark labeled 'N', for 'North'. The inscription on the inside of the lid, 'The Viscount's Compass', was in simple script, more as a label than anything else. "But why is it on the inside?" she whispered.

She shut the compass and stared up at the corner between the wall she faced and the ceiling of her apartment. The mystery of the compass had to be solved another day.