Chapter 36: Safe In The Dark

Have you been up late nights?
It is okay, it's just been hard to sleep.
I see it in your eyes.
It's just the work; it's been getting to me.
-Ludo

I tried to sleep once I got back to the Bureau and stripped myself of the fake leg, but you know how that is. I just laid there and stared at the wall. It couldn't wait to go home.

I sat up and stretched. I still had paperwork from the demon in Bennet's basement. Might as well get that done since I wasn't going to get any sleep any time soon. I hopped over to the desk and clicked on the lamp. The bright light blinded me for a moment, but my eyes adjusted to it. I wish I could do all this stuff in the dark and never have to go into the light again.

Oh Lord, how am I going to explain to Kate that whatever was haunting the guy's basement was connected to Hellboy? I don't even think I told her what I saw when I was dead yet. I wouldn't want to be the one to break it to her. From what people told me, she and Hellboy were pretty tight. Makes me wonder how tight, and how his leaving affected her. He was like a dad to me, and leaving screwed me up pretty bad.

I understand how that goes, I guess. People you love just up and leaving and all. I'm not gonna tell her that – Kate's no idiot, and she might put two and two together – but I understand. It's painful, and no one should have to go through that.

But she would want to know. For sure. I know for a fact that if I were her, I would want to know.

I finished filling out the paperwork – a nice, forty-five minute ordeal that ended with a cramped hand – and reached for my fakey. My stump had been aching and I forgot my ointment at home, but I didn't have my crutch with me in order to go without my fake foot.

God, this was so annoying. And my phantom foot itched. It's a psychological thing – your brain is so used to having a foot that even when it's gone it still creates signals for it so there's phantom pain and phantom itching.

I hobbled out of my room and made my way down to Kate's office. If there was ever anything you could trust that woman to do, it was to be up at all hours of the night. I don't even know when that lady sleeps.

Once I got to her door, I tried to open it and found it locked.

Okay, so Kate's not always up. Must be later than I thought.

I pushed the papers underneath her door. I'd talk to her later.

Right now, I was going to go home.

When I got home, it was like walking into a dream. The house was still clean, all the girls were asleep, and Daimio was sitting on the couch flipping through movie channels.

"Hey," he called, giving a small wave.

I dropped my backpack and keys, kicked off my shoes, and tossed off my jacket. I even thought about tearing off my fake leg while I was at it, but then I remembered, y'know, I couldn't walk that well without it.

So I kept it on and hobbled over to the couch and practically threw myself next to Ben. He didn't flinch, keeping his eyes on the TV as he put his arm around my shoulders and allowed me to lean on his side.

"How's it goin'?" he asked.

"I'm tired," I said, sighing. "And I'm happy to be home. You?"

He paused for a moment. "Yeah, I'm glad you're home too."

My face burned with blush. It was far too late in the evening for flattery. My brain was going to burst and I was going to die. Again.

"Girls were okay," he went on. "Stayed in, cleaned up the house real good. They went to bed a bit ago."

"What time is it?" I asked.

"Quarter past five. Why?"

I groaned and closed my eyes. "I haven't slept since yesterday."

Without missing a beat, he asked, "Should I be concerned?"

"It's nothing," I replied automatically. It's nothing that he needs to worry about right now. Or at all.

He gave me a gentle squeeze. "You know you can tell me. I won't rat you out to a shrink."

I gave a snort of laughter.

"I'm waiting, Jink."

I sighed and opened my eyes to look into his. "Well, first of all you should know that when I died, I went through this fucking nightmare where I saw how everyone died. I went through Abe's death again, I saw Roger die, and I saw Hellboy get drug to Hell."

He looked away from my eyes and focused on something across the room. He still felt responsible for Roger's death. I wish he wouldn't. I knew who was responsible for it, and I already fried that fucker's ass a couple times.

"What does that have to do with anything?" he finally asked.

"I worked a gig last night," I went on, "And there was a demon involved."

He knew my aversion to demons. Most everyone does. The fact that I actually went though it would surprise the hell out of nearly everyone. Hell, I'm still surprised, and I'm the one who went through with it.

"And the weird part was that when the guy described it . . . it sounded a lot like Hellboy," I finished. (Fuck sounding like Hellboy, it was Hellboy. The only person I was trying to kid was myself here.)

I didn't know if he would understand why I felt so bad about this. I barely knew why I felt so bad about this. It was more than just grieving for his death. It was the feeling of something deeply wrong.

Or maybe it was the feeling that you get when pretty much all of your family is dead.

Think about it. Hellboy left, and now he's dead-dead. Roger died. Liz's AWOL but probably dead. Greg's mentally AWOL and would have been a lot happier if I had just left him in the colony with all of his cockroach buddies. Abe is a vegetable and pretty much dead.

All that's left is me and Kate . . . . and Ben.

Everyone I had grown up with. Everyone I had made attachments to. Everyone I had loved as family. Just . . . gone.

I felt hollow. Like someone had pulled all my guts out and I was just waiting to be carved like a Halloween pumpkin. I was just an empty shell of a Jink.

"I'm sorry," he said, looking back at me.

"You don't need to be," I said thickly. "S'not your fault. You just asked, that's all."

We sat there for a while, not saying anything. I wish I could say that I enjoyed that silence, but my mind was busy twisting itself into insanity.

"I'm going to go to sleep," I said finally, unfolding myself from the couch and standing stiffly.

"Need any help?" he asked.

"Nah, I got it."

I woke from the nightmare with burning eyes and a churning stomach. I was going to be sick.

I fought at the covers to get out of bed, and still unused to only having one leg, I fell flat on my face. My fakey was lying in the corner where I had put it before trying to sleep.

I had to practically crawl to the bathroom. In my haste, I sort of . . . forgot the bathroom that was connected directly to my bedroom. Hey, I've spent a total of, like, a week in this house. Pardon me for forgetting a few things.

I knew that Ben saw me, but I was in the bathroom and slammed the door too fast for him to come in and ask what was wrong – or God forbid, try to help me.

My throat burned as what little food I ate yesterday made an appearance. Tears left fiery tracks on my cheeks. I panted heavily between each heave. I felt like I was falling to pieces and there was nothing I could do about it.

I wasn't even thinking right. As if it were a defense mechanism, my mind had pulled out a soft, lyrical song that repeated on a never-ending loop.

Hush little baby, don't you cry. Daddy's gonna sing you a lullaby. Everything's gonna be alright – the Lord's gonna answer your prayer tonight.

Song was so left-field I couldn't even remember the name of the guy who sang it. The song lyrics were like a shield around my poor psyche and refused to let me do any higher thinking besides, "Oh damn, did I miss the toilet?"

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of retching, my stomach was empty of everything. My insides felt pulverized, my throat felt torn to shreds, and my tear-burned cheeks were all-too sensitive to the touch. I wanted to laugh at the cruel irony. I thought that I was a mess earlier? Man, if I knew that I would be calling my future out, I woulda told the guy I was walking on sunshine. (Well, maybe not. I might've ended up actually walking on the sun or some weird shit like that. You never know with me.)

"Jink?" I heard Ben call through the door. "Everything alright in there?"

I struggled to breathe. My nose was too stuffed to get much air through, and I was breathing in huge gasps. Hyperventilating.

The door flew open. My hands flew to my eyes to try to wipe the tears away; I didn't need him to see me like this. It's embarrassing enough that I just tossed my cookies because of a stupid dream, but now I was freaking out like . . . like a . . . Lord, like a kid. I was freaking out like I wasn't an adult who dealt with this shit every day.

I felt him scrabble down to my level and his hands on my shoulders. "Jink, look at me." He shook my shoulders. "Look at me, dammit!"

I moved my hands from my eyes slowly. I was starting to feel light-headed. I was still hyperventilating, and no matter how much I gasped I felt like I wasn't getting any air.

"Kid, you gotta calm down. You keep going like this, you're gonna pass out." He spoke quickly, and I struggled to keep up. "Breathe through your nose, out your mouth."

I tried to breathe through my nose, but a sob tore through my chest. No dice.

"Look, you can do it," he insisted. "Do it with me." He took a long breath through his nose and exhaled slowly. "See? Easy. You can do it. Just do it with me."

He did it over and over, and I did my best to try to copy him. Slowly but surely, I started being able to breathe again. Content with the fact that I was no longer hyperventilating, he did a quick search of the bathroom floor, pulling up a slightly damp towel.

"Now," he said, wiping my still-trickling tears away, "what the hell happened?"

It took a moment to get control of my words. "Ni-Nightmare," I stammered. "Really . . . r-really bad one."

"What about?" He set the towel down. His eyes bored holes into mine.

I hesitated.

"Just tell me, Jink. It can't hurt you anymore."

You don't know that!, I wanted to shout, but didn't. "I was back at the Connecticut compound. Younger. Both legs. In my room, holding onto that old stuffed penguin. Stepped out into the hall . . ." my voice broke.

"Go on."

"Everyone dead. Torn to pieces. Blood and chunks everywhere. Kate and Manning and you and Liz and Abe and Hellboy and just . . . everyone. And . . . . and he stood in the middle of it all." I was starting to panic again; my chest felt like someone had their hand around my ribcage and was squeezing it.

"Who?" he demanded.

"That . . . that fucking asshole demon," I managed to get out. "That motherfucking asshole demon who won't leave me alone!"

Silence. Horrible, horrible silence. "You mean that Astaroth clown?" he said at last. "I thought you killed his ass years ago."

I shook my head, struggling to keep my breathing normal. "You don't understand. When I . . . when I died, I was back in Mexico. Fucking Mexico." I stopped to take a deep breath. "He was there . . . and . . . and . . ."

"And what?"

"He said . . ."

"I'll always be here, Jink. In your heart. In your skin. In your head. You won't get rid of me this time. I promise."

"He said that he'd never leave me alone," I finally said. "That he'd always . . . be there."

Ben looked at me for a long, long time. I know that it's something stupid to freak out over, but . . . yeah. Whatever. I don't care. Everyone's got that one worst fear, and mine's slowly coming true. As the saying goes, excuse me for living.

"Look, Jink," he said finally, "Whatever it – he – is, I won't let him get you. Alright? I'll protect you." He put his hands on my shoulders and gave me another gentler shake. "Are you hearing me? I've got your back. He isn't getting anywhere near you."

I nodded, grabbing the smoldering towel (God dammit, this was one of the good towels) and wiping my face (and namely my runny nose) with it.

"Are you feeling better now?"

I hesitated. Was I feeling better? Really? The actual dream was starting to fade – details were becoming a blur – but the feeling was still there. The acidic fear that ate at my stomach, and the panic that just now starting to loosen its grip on my heart.

I'm alive, I reminded myself. Some of them may be dead, but not everyone. I still have Kate, and Manning if I'm really that desperate. As for the others, there's no use into crying over them now. I just have to remember them as how they'd want to be remembered. For their lives, not their deaths.

"Yeah," I said at last. "Yeah, I'm fine now."

He hooked an arm around my waist and pulled me to my fee- er, foot. "Come sit down. Kids ain't up yet, and I bet you can find somethin' on the TV or somethin'."

Television? The last thing I wanted was to sit and do nothing and let my brain just go insane on its own.

But then again, TV was notorious for just . . . numbing a person up. It's like sleeping with your eyes open. I could handle that.

He led me over to the couch, only letting go of my waist to let me sit down. I sank into the sagging cushions, leaning against the back of the couch, and willed myself to relax. I was wound so tight, it was a wonder why I hadn't just . . . snapped. Broke. I should have just exploded at that very moment, but I didn't.

"You just sit tight, alright?" he said. "I'll be right back." And with that, he disappeared back into the bathroom.

Was he . . . was he cleaning up after me? Legitimately cleaning up after me? Jesus, that made me want to start crying all over again.

And then, as if on cue, my phone rang - the new one that Kate got for me, this lame twelve-buttoned number, not the old, nice one. Of course it rang now. Of fucking course.

Well, joke's on whoever's calling, because my phone was all the way in my backpack, and I wasn't moving. Not now. Nope. I'm gonna sit tight, just like Ben told me to do, and maybe see what I could numb my mind with.

I groped the couch for the remote. When I started flipping through the channels, I realized what every other insomniac and early-riser had realized: there is absolutely nothing on at . . . (I checked the cable box) . . . 6:45 in the morning.

I did a double-take. I was asleep for less than a frickin' hour? Really? Two words: BULL. SHIT.

I continued to flip through the channels as Ben came back out of the bathroom and sat down on the couch next to me. I let myself sag against his side, and let my mind wander.

Why did that song pop into my head? I remember the guy who sang it – Toby something or other – and if my info was correct, he was exclusively Christian music. I had kept away from that genre like the plague since I was a preteen. (Trust me, after Mexico, I stopped believing there could be someone out there controlling our lives. New evidence suggests otherwise, hm?) If anything was going to pop into my head, I would've put my bet on Breaking Benjamin, or MCR, or even Lynard Skinnard. No lie.

Couple this with meeting up with the ol' Guy up in the clouds, and there's one interesting enigma.

If I really wanted to put my faith into something like this, then the song could be a sign. (That's right, folks! Instead of speaking through tortillas and stuff, God speaks through music!) To stretch it further, the man – er, God – did wish me luck and sent me back to Earth.

It's like he's promising the same thing Ben did just minutes ago. I've got your back.

My head was swimming. I wanted to numb myself up, not go all philosophical on myself.

"Did I hear your phone going off earlier?" Ben asked. He had taken the remote from my slack grip and started flipping through the channels himself.

"Yeah," I sighed. "I didn't get it."

"Why?"

"The only person that I honestly care to talk to at the moment is you, and you're not gonna call me on the phone if you're ten feet away."

Bam. Take that, mysterious-phone-caller. I don't want to talk to you.

"What if it was something important?"

"It can wait until the sun comes up."

Hey look! A wild update appears! And before a month passed!

So I see everyone enjoyed my wonderful pancake sacrifice . . . *evil cackle* so now I must say that no pancakes were harmed during the writing of this fanfic. (Actually, I did devour a couple of tacos . . . is that murder? I hope not. :D)

Man, you guys see the fantastic thing they've done? Where the stories should have covers? I might just do something with this . . . I am excite! Anyone got any ideas?

But anyways, I want to say thanks to all of my reviewers: RubyDracoGirl, MyNamesNotAlice, (my two regulars - you guys are great!) and ShadowWolfAlphaGirl (the newcomer!). I love seeing reviews, and you guys make my day. *spastic smile*

In case anyone's wondering, that song that I used was "Irene" by tobyMac. Another song I listened to while writing this was "The Sea Is A Great Place To Think About The Future" by Los Campasinos! If you give it a listen, I warn you - it's not like anything I've used before. And it's very sad. My friend used this song to describe his mood one day, and when I really listened to the lyrics I got real worried for him. But everyone is alright now. 3

So how's everyone liking this new development, hm? ROMANCE. ALL OVER. IT'S LIKE BLOOD AT A MURDER SCENE - IT'S EVERYWHERE! THANK YOU FOR NOT GIVING UP ON MY LAME ROMANCE SKILLZ, SINCE THIS IS ALL FROM SECOND-HAND EXPERIENCE! (Cool Story Bro Time: I've never had a boyfriend, gone on a date, or even been kissed yet. YEP.)

So, everyone have a fantastic day! Keep up the reviews! WATCH OUT FOR DEMONS, THEY LOVE PANCAKES.

~Me

PS - HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!