Written for Hogwarts' Meet Cute Marathon: The character is doing research for a true crime book and they get drawn in too deep.

Also for Religious Education: Task #2: Write about a symbol that has bad connotations, the Writing Club - Count Your Buttons: Serial Killer!AU, the Insane House Challenge: Job - Policeman, the 365 Prompts Challenge: Plot Point - A character finds something, the Fairytale Week Event: Lizzy - Rapunzel, Feeling lonely or isolated, Kidnapped!AU, Item: Lantern.

Word count: 1464

I write a path to you

Fabian tugged at his bonds hopelessly. They didn't give an inch and his stomach dropped.

He knew he should have listened to his brother. "You don't want to pursue this, Fabian," Gideon had said. "It's too dangerous."

Fabian, idiot that he was, had only laughed. "I'm a writer," he replied. "I need to do some research for my next novel, and what better way than to investigate Voldemort and his Death Eaters?"

His brother had only grown more concerned, of course, but Fabian had reassured him, telling him he'd be careful. "Come on, Gideon," he'd said, laughter in his voice, "I'll just be looking at a few crimes scenes and old newspapers articles. What's the worst that could happen?"

Famous last words. He should have left it well enough alone and listened to his brother. there were plenty of other serial killers he could have used for his book — plenty of dead serial killers, to be more exact — but no, Fabian had to choose Voldemort.

In his defense, though, the man (if he could even be called that anymore) was fascinating. No serial killer had ever managed to gather so many followers before — followers who committed their own crimes but always, always under Voldemort's mark.

Because Voldemort also left a mark. The papers had called it the Dark Mark, and by now, two years after Voldemort had first appeared, just the sight of it was enough to send shivers into the bravest of hearts.

But Fabian had really done only what he'd told his brother he would do: he had visited a few crime scenes where the Dark Mark still stood and he had done plenty of research in old newspapers articles.

He hadn't really expected to find anything except inspiration for his next crime story, but he had stumbled upon something. An old article mentioning the death of an old couple of Little Hangleton. There had been no Dark Mark, but everything else — the way the corpses had been arranged, the room meticulously cleaned of any evidence — had been Voldemort's exact MO.

Only that article was dated from ten years before Voldemort's first reported crime.

From then, it had been easy to find a certain Tom Riddle Jr. — a troubled child who had been raised in an orphanage and that the matron still remembered as mean and violent.

And then the next thing he knew, someone had hit him in the head, and here he was now, tied up in a chair under a lantern that barely emitted any light and in some leaky basement, his head pounding as his heart raced in his chest.

Two Death Eaters, recognizable by their featureless white masks and dark robes, had already been by, asking him questions.

Fabian was desperately trying to forget what they'd done to him when he hadn't answered.

But he could hold on a little bit longer.

He had to hold on a little bit longer.

Someone would come after him. He knew it.

(He hoped for it.)

.

The sound of gunfire startled Fabian out of his slumber. His chair swang dangerously, and for a heart-stopping moment, he thought it would tip.

Outside, the gunfire only intensified and Fabian managed to distinguish the call of 'Police' amidst the shouting.

He was so relieved a few tears escaped from his eyes and he redoubled his efforts at getting out of his bonds. He tried to scream but his mouth was so dry he barely managed out a croaking sound before dissolving into a coughing fit.

Moments later, the door to his cell was blown off its hinges and a policeman stepped in.

It probably wasn't the right time for that, but Fabian's first thought was Holy shit, he's hot.

His second was I know what I'm going to write.

And at last, his third was a thankful prayer that he was getting rescued.

"Who are you?" he managed to croak out between his dry lips, addressing the man now making quick work of the bonds around his wrists.

"Detective Edgar Bones," the man replied, his brown eyes appearing almost dark from his focus. "And you must be Fabian. Your brother told us about you."

"All lies," Fabian replied, forcing a smile. "I'm much more handsome."

Edgar chuckled, bending down to cut the rope around Fabian's ankles. His eyes flicked up and down Fabian's body, and he smirked. It lasted half a second, but it was enough to make Fabian's heart skip a beat. "Very handsome," he confirmed before sobering up. "Can you walk?"

Fabian dearly wanted to say yes and impress Detective Bones by manly walking out of there, but he was fairly certain his legs wouldn't carry him past the first step, if even that.

He winced and admitted, "I don't think so."

Edgar nodded. "Here," he said, gently grabbing hold of Fabian's right arm and pulling it over shoulders, "you can lean on me."

He took it back. This was a hundred times better than manly walking out of here.

He didn't really enjoy it as much as he wished. He hurt too much — standing up had reopened at least three stab wounds on his abdomen, and he could feel the blood starting to trickle down his skin.

To keep his mind off the pain, he tried to make conversation. It was difficult, considering how dry his mouth still was — it made the words stick in his mouth, and he ran out of breath quickly.

"Stop talking," Edgar kept admonishing him. "Save your breath."

But still, he answered all of Fabian's questions, such as how they had found him.

Thanks to his research apparently, though Gideon had been the one to bring it forward when Fabian hadn't picked up one of Molly's calls.

God, he had never been gladder for nosy siblings.

Stepping outside and feeling fresh air on his face felt so good he stopped and closed his eyes, momentarily forgetting he wasn't alone. Edgar's much more sudden stop jarred his wounds and he hissed.

"Shit, sorry," Edgar said, his hands hovering so close to Fabian's body he could feel their heat through his clothes. "Are you alright?"

Fabian could feel himself grinning widely. "Well, I'm no longer tied up in some dirty basement and awaiting death, and I got rescued by a very handsome guy — so, all in all, things could be worse."

He opened his eyes and winced at the sudden stab of pain in his head. He suddenly became aware of how light-headed he was and he swang on his feet. Luckily, Edgar caught him before he could fall.

"I don't think you're alright," he stated. Fabian could hear him frowning.

"You're probably right," he admitted. Dark spots were filling his vision and he could feel consciousness slipping through his fingers. "I think I'm going to faint."

Edgar stared at him in alarm. "You what?"

Fabian opened his mouth to answer, but he never quite made it that far. The darkness won and he pitched forward.

The last thing he was aware of before sweet, sweet darkness was a pair of strong arms catching him once again.

.coda.

"Did you really have to call him 'Detective Ulna'?" Edgar grumbled, his copy of Behind The Mark, Fabian's latest book, held in his hands.

Fabian laughed and laced his arms around Edgar's shoulders. "Would you rather I had named him 'Bones'? That's a bit on the nose, don't you think?"

Edgar rolled his eyes. "I still can't believe you made me the love interest."

Fabian smirked, eyes dropping to Edgar's lips. "Well, what else could you be? Such a smart, brave, handsome detective," Fabian said, punctuating every word with a peck to Edgar's lips. "I really had no other choice."

He drew back and Edgar chased after his lips. "You're an idiot," he huffed out, his smile infusing his words with warmth.

"You love me anyway," Fabian retorted.

Edgar smirked. He put down the book and moved his hands to Fabian's waist. "Maybe," he teased.

"Maybe?" Fabian sputtered.

"Yes," Edgar replied, eyes twinkling with mirth. "After all, I heard that 'Detective Ulna' was very torn between his two potential loves."

"Oh God, for the last time — you're not 'Detective Ulna'!" He laughed too much to keep going, Edgar's fingers digging into his side mercilessly.

"Maybe I should make you the villain in the next book instead," he muttered once he finally managed to catch his breath. "You're certainly clever enough."

Edgar chuckled. "I thought I wasn't 'Detective Ulna'?"

"Oh hush you," Fabian retorted, burying his head in the crook of Edgar's neck to hide his burning cheeks. "You know what I mean."

Edgar chuckled, his chest rumbling, and Edgar smiled.