GOTONG-ROYONG | DJINNI | WC: 1,102

Ahmed wasn't sure he'd ever been more worried for someone in his long life than when Sally showed up at his door, pounding on it with one fist, harder and more panicked than he'd ever heard her knock. He'd nearly tripped in his rush down the hallway to answer it, Salim half-rising from the living room couch as he startled too.

"Sally?" Ahmed blurted as soon as he'd thrown open the door, staring at the woman in front of him. Her face was pale and drawn, eyes wide and worried.

"Something killed Gabe," Sally blurted, one hand gripping the doorframe. She looked terrified.

"Oh," Salim commented from the background, loud enough for it to carry, "I thought it was something bad." Ahmed winced as Sally's lips pursed and she frowned, brow drawing tight and knuckles whitening. Now was not the time to agree with Salim.

"What can I do?" he asked instead.

"Did you— did you have anything to do with this?"

"I didn't kill him," Ahmed defended immediately. It was the closest he could get to denying it without lying.

"Ahmed, that's not what I asked," Sally pointed out, repeating the question. Salim laughed from the background, muffled as it was as he purposefully turned the volume up on the television.

"I didn't help kill him," Ahmed rephrased. The volume of the television raised again, Salim's laughs turning closer to wheezes. Not for the first time, Ahmed was glad Sally only had a mortal's hearing. It was easier to avoid killing Salim that way.

"Ahmed. Answer the question," Sally ordered.

"Does it matter? He's dead! I can take you out for drinks, we can celebrate— mourn," Ahmed avoided, continuing as Sally's eyes narrowed. How a thirty-something year old woman could make him, a literal djinni, act like a love, he'd never understand. "You can mourn and I can celebrate, how about that? You can clean up your apartment, buy some air fresheners, open up all the windows—"

"Ahmed."

"So maybe I encouraged it," Ahmed admitted rapidly, "I didn't plan or aid and it was entirely their choice to follow through. Salim I swear, if you turn the volume up—"

"Who killed him? Ahmed this is serious— I have to call the police. There's a dead man in my apartment and bruises he left on my skin. I could get arrested— Percy could get in trouble, what happened?" Sally insisted, jaw tightening with each sentence.

"He hit you?" Ahmed asked, backtracking quickly. "Look, they've been planning for months, it's unlikely there's anything indicating your involvement. Come on, let's go down to your apartment, call the police, get everything sorted. If anything starts to go wrong, I can just… push a little, calm people down. It will be fine, Sally. That, I promise."

Ahmed felt the oath fall true and ignored Salim muting the television and getting to his feet in the other room, carefully taking Sally's arm instead and closing the door surely behind them as they walked back to her floor, taking the stairs slowly. He stayed next to her as she called the police, listening to her lay out the details surprisingly calmly.

"Domowik?" Ahmed called out once she was done, watching the house spirit crawl out from the shadows with worried eyes, their skin wrinkled and pale. The domowik was as squat as it was last time, barely taller than a foot, with big brown eyes and patchwork clothes made from lost things. "You were supposed to warn me. Can you talk to Sally —the lovely lady— tell her that she's not going to get incriminated for this?"

"Yessir, djinn sir," the domowik, scurrying towards the kitchen and Sally. Miraculously, Ahmed made it there before them, standing in Sally's field of view and catching her attention.

"So. The person who killed Gabe. Sally, this is— uh, Nisley, right. Sally, this is Nisley. They're a domowik, a house spirit. They help clean and take care of the house, apartment in this case," he stepped to the side, gesturing towards Nisley.

"Oh, Nisley apologizes to the lovely lady," the domowik babbled. "Nisley didn't mean for the lovely lady to worry. Nisley planned it all out! Everything is just in the right place, and the lovely lady and her son were busy and Nisley knew there were other people with them! A domowik doesn't usually plan accidents, but the nasty man just had to go. Nisley promises that there's nothing that shows the lovely lady or her son were responsible, Nisley swears." Nisley nodded surely, slinking back into the shadows before Sally had a chance to respond.

"—what?"

"Sally, you'll be okay," Ahmed repeated, the words ringing true as soon as they were spoken. He hadn't even forced the words —she would have been fine with or without his support. He was hardly about to leave regardless.

"Ahmed, what do I do? I can't— I hardly make enough at Sweet on America to rent an apartment," Sally said desperately.

"You'll have his life insurance money," Ahmed pointed out, clapping a hand over his mouth as soon as the words were out. They were true, but it didn't mean he should have said them.

"Ahmed," Sally said sharply, sighing soon after. "If that doesn't help?"

"I'd be happy to kick Salim out," Ahmed said honestly, "though I'd maybe suggest starting by asking Gianna. Or better yet, Baba Yaga, as she seems to like you."

"I'm not asking Babka for anything other than knitting and weaving lessons," Sally said honestly, wrapping her arms around herself. Ahmed could faintly hear approaching sirens. "I'll… I'll call Gianna, if I have to. I'm not going to get Salim kicked out."

"Bummer," Ahmed said drily, as sarcastically as he could make it. He'd likely have a harder time with the near-lies if he weren't so frustrated by Salim at the moment. "You —and Percy— are welcome to spend a night or two in our apartment. Maryam won't be back for a few days."

"Oh no, Percy is going to be home soon," she realized, horror creeping into her tone.

"I can catch him before he comes up and drag him off to ours, so he doesn't have to see any of this," Ahmed offered easily.

"Ahmed— that's so much."

"I am happy to help," Ahmed said seriously, "And you know I can't lie, so it's hardly like you can disbelieve me. Besides… this might be my responsibility for encouraging a house spirit to do murder."

"It might be? Ahmed, it is absolutely your fault," Sally said drily. "But, thank you. Genuinely. Not… not for the Gabe part, though."