Oh dear. It seems as if things are starting to to get a little more angst-y in this story.

I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Violence, Choking, Angst, Hallucinations, Head Injury. Still in the process of writing so check here for new warnings as I go!

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Hitting the final key on his laptop Street started to drum his fingers against his knee as his eyes skimmed over what he had just written. The words seemed to almost bleed together, but nothing had a red line underneath it so he was going to count it as a win.

When he had first started the project he had figured it was going to take a long time trying to remember everything about the case they were working on. There was almost too much information on just Baylon and Keller themselves that he had to type up.

Though at the same time it felt as if there was nothing on them either. Every scrape of evidence they had on the men was more speculation than anything else. No one knew anything about either of them. Something that probably worked to their advantage.

It was clear that they had done everything in their power to keep up whatever facades they had convinced everyone to see. That had to be what was going on with them. There was no way that two such 'normal' people had just suddenly decided to start killing people or convincing people to kill or whatever it was that they did. Especially since it took them so long before anyone's eyes even looked over at them.

That had been why he had tried to remember everything about every single case that had come up during their investigation. It had made perfect sense at the time. He was sure that finding out who the two men truly were behind the mask was the only way that they would be able to find out where Keller was and how he was reacting. There was just one problem. Or seventeen different problems.

It still surprised him just how many cases there were. Especially since all of them had seemed completely unrelated at first. Hell, even after they knew that everything was connected they had still seemed unrelated.

It had made no sense to him when they first started looking at them. Everything about the cases was so organized that under any other circumstance he would have wondered if someone was just copying a book or something. It was all too well thought out.

When the cases first started to come in he had actually brought that up. He had thought it might be possible that someone was finding cases online and copying them. It wasn't as if that would be the first time something like that had happened.

It also made a lot of sense given how smoothly the crimes had happened. Almost like they had known exactly what was going to happen. Something that he knew would have been very hard to do. People rarely reacted the way others wanted them to. Especially when they were under duress.

They had tried to find something on that angle though. No other crimes matched up with what had been done. Nothing about what happened made any sense to him. Everything worked so well together and yet seemed so far away at the same time. He had no idea how to make sense of it.

And they still hadn't found Keller. At least he didn't think they did. Under any other circumstance he would ask Luca what was going on with the case, but something told him that wasn't going to fly this time.

Alright, so it wasn't just something. It was the fact that his friend hadn't bothered to try to bring it up. That wasn't what they normally did. Yes, some things were more sensitive topics, but they knew how to avoid those. They also never did that with work related things. It was just another thing to add to an ever-growing list of things going wrong.

Running a hand over his face Street pushed the laptop off to the side before moving to stand up. There was the all too familiar feeling of needles in his legs making him not only wince but wonder how long he'd been sitting there.

Moving slower than he liked he glanced over at his dresser. He could feel his heart start speed up when he caught sight of a notebook resting on the wood like it hadn't been popping into his mind every few minutes since he set it there.

Writing down everything that he remembered from his fight with Baylon had actually been the first thing he had done after he decided to go after Keller. The last thing he had wanted to do was forget or overlook any of the details of what happened that day.

As soon as he finished writing though he had closed the notebook and put it to the side. He hadn't wanted… Truthfully, he wasn't really sure why he had decided not to read over what he had written. He just decided not to.

He wasn't even sure exactly what it was that he had written at all. Everything about that night was a bit of a blur. Everything about both nights was a bit of a blur. Something that he was slowly becoming more and more accustomed with though he hated it just the same.

That had been the main reason why he had decided to write everything down. His thoughts were all over the place at the moment. The idea of forgetting something important just because he couldn't remember was too much for him at that moment.

It had also helped to get all of those thoughts out of his head so he could focus on what he needed to do. What was the purpose of trying to figure everything out if he was just going to be stuck replaying the same scene in his head over and over again?

"That is quite the conundrum you've built for yourself, isn't it, dear?" a voice questioned from behind him.

Street felt his entire body go stiff as the voice slowly filtered through. He had no idea what words were actually said, but he knew that voice. He doubted he would ever be able to get that voice out of his head again.

It felt like a trick as he stood there his eyes clenched shut trying his hardest not to panic. He needed to keep his head on straight if he was going to be able to figure out what was going on and he was going to do just that. It was just going to take some time.

A soft chuckle echoed throughout his room causing him to reach out to grip the dresser as a wave of dizziness filled him. Even with his eyes shut he felt as if the room was spinning. It almost felt as if he was going to fall over.

His nails dug into the wood sending small shocks of pain through his body. A part of him hoped that the feeling would be grounding, but he felt the same as he had before. Though he wasn't exactly sure if that was a good thing or not.

"Do you always have such trouble focusing on what's around you?" the voice spoke once more causing him to try to dig his nails even deeper.

Forcing himself to take a few shaky yet deep breaths Street braced himself before letting his eyes flutter open. He wasn't exactly sure what he was expecting to see when they finally did, but his bedroom wasn't it.

For a split moment he found himself believing that the voice was just in his head. A sentence which shouldn't have comforted him nearly as much as it was. Then he slowly turned around to face his bed.

His heart felt as if it had stopped completely as the hope was replaced with despair. Sitting on his bed, looking as if it was where he belonged, was the man that had started it all. It shouldn't have been shocking, but, for some reason, he had hoped beyond hope that he had been wrong.

"Baylon," he breathed his voice barely above a whisper.

"Hello, dear," the man smiled looking completely at ease, "How are you?"

Ignoring the pain it caused, Street shook his head quickly as he turned away from the man. He was fully aware that it was childish move, but at the moment he couldn't bring himself to care. All that mattered was making him go away.

It wasn't as if he was supposed to be there anyway. He was dead. He had been dead for days. Tan had killed him that night. There was no chance that he was really sitting there talking to him as if nothing had happened. Fuck, even if he was alive he wouldn't be sitting there as if they were lifelong friends! Yet…

Clenching his hands into fists he let his nails dig into the flesh of his palms hard enough to draw blood. It was a desperate attempt to get his mind to focus, but it was all he could think of at the moment, and truthfully, he was desperate.

"No, no, Sweetheart," Baylon whispered suddenly into his ear, "Don't get lost in you own mind. Focus on me."

Jerking around Street found himself face to face with the man. Somehow he was only a few inches behind him. His eyes darted back to the bed as if to make sure that Baylon wasn't sitting there as well. He hadn't even heard the man get up. Was he really so out of it that he hadn't heard any movement?

A soft chuckle from the killer had Street focusing back on his face. That almost peaceful smile was on his lips as he placed his hands behind his back and started to rock ever so slightly. Without thinking he closed his eyes hoping that it would be gone with they open again.

"Come now," he continued his voice gentle yet chiding, "You're smarter than that. Closing your eyes and wishing with all your heart won't make me disappear."

"Why are you here?" Street muttered still not opening his eyes.

"Maybe I was wrong about you being intelligent. You know exactly why I'm here."

"No."

"Yes. You do."

Biting at his eyes Street forced his eyes open once more only to find Baylon smiling at him happily. Feeling tears fill his eyes he brushed past the man and walked to his bed. Falling down on it he wrapped his arms around himself tightly as he tried to stop himself from crying. The last thing he wanted to do was breakdown in front of the man.

"Oh, honey," Baylon sighed coming to kneel in front of him, "I know."

"I hate you," Street glared angrily at the man, "I fucking hate you."

"I did get quiet deep in your head, didn't I? It was oh so easy too."

"Shut up, you son of a bitch."

Holding his hands up Baylon let out a soft hum before he standing up and starting to walk his room. His movements were slow as he stopped in front of the dresser his hand ghosting over the edge pausing to ever so gently tap on the notebook. An almost dark smirk flickered on his face before that smile came back to his lips.

"I'm sorry," Baylon apologizes turning to look at him once more an almost shy smile on his lips, "That was cruel of me. I shouldn't talk like that to someone in your delicate state."

Glaring up at the man Street found himself wishing more than anything that he could take a swing at the man. He wasn't stupid though. He knew that he wasn't actually in front of him. At least he hoped he wasn't really there.

"Oh shut up," Street muttered shaking his head and glaring at the floor.

"That was rude," Baylon practically pouted, "You could try being a little kinder."

"Kinder? You want me to be 'kinder' to you? You tried to kill me!"

It took a second longer for him to realize that he had yelled. In the back of his mind he knew that he shouldn't bring any attention to himself or what was going on, but it wasn't until that moment that it came to the forefront of his mind.

Sitting there in complete silence Street waited to hear his friends footsteps getting closer to the door or his name being called out, but nothing happened. Feeling more than a little confused he looked over at the door as if trying to will a knock to come.

Nothing.

"Well, now that was dangerous," Baylon giggled a twisted grin coming to his lips.

A shiver of dread filled him at that look. He knew that there was a darkness in the man, but he had only ever seen flickers of it. The last thing Baylon wanted was for people to see who he was underneath all of the facades that he worked so hard to maintain. He couldn't let himself be seen.

That had to be how he was able to do everything he did. Because no one was paying attention to what he was actually saying. All that mattered when he talked was the tone of voice he used and the way his eyes seemed to have such a warmth in them. It was hard to see past that.

As much as he hated to admit it that was how he had fallen. It had been as if Baylon had seen through to his very soul and said exactly what he needed to hear. Or, what he had always wanted to hear.

Street wanted to believe that he was better than falling for that, but he wasn't. Obviously, he wasn't. If he had than Baylon would be alive and in a cell rather than dead and in his bedroom. At least, maybe that's hoe it would have happened. He wasn't really sure of anything anymore. Baylon had made sure of that.

"You can call me Eliot," the man offered his voice almost soothing though the darkness didn't leave his face.

"Get out of my head," Street growled out.

An almost manic laugh left the mans lips as he stalked closer to him. There was so much power and force in the way the man moved that Street couldn't help himself as he crawled backwards on the bed.

As soon as his back hit the wall Baylon's knees hit the bed. Leaning over him the killer seemed so much bigger than Street had thought before. For a moment neither of them moved. Then Baylon's hand reached out ghosting over his throat.

It felt as if the fingers were wrapped around his neck once more. He could feel the fingers tightening around his throat cutting off his air supply. Reaching up he tried to pry the fingers away only to find himself touching his own neck with nothing in the way.

A broken whimper fell from his lips at the feeling and for the first time since it all started he found himself looking at the closed door of his bedroom praying that Luca would open it. He didn't care what it would look like to the older man. He couldn't… he needed his friend to help him. He couldn't handle Baylon alone.

"Oh, honey," Baylon shook his head leaning closer cutting off his sight of the door, "He's gone. He left for work awhile ago. Remember? He stopped right in front of that door and called your name. You were silent. So focused on 'remembering' the case that you couldn't be bothered to pay attention to your… What is he to you?"

"No," Street panted out begging for it not to be true though he knew it was.

"Sounds like you care for him."

"Stop."

"Why would I do that, dear? You're so easy to play with."

"Baylon."

"Come on, do you really want to stop now? We're having so much fun."

Shutting his eyes Street tried his hardest to block out the man in front of him. He couldn't handle hearing the man talk anymore. Everything felt as if it was spinning apart around him and there was nothing he could do.

"No no no, Jim Street," Baylon said smirking once more, "Don't hide away from me. Not when we're just getting somewhere."

Feeling his eyes go wide Street stared up at Baylon not noticing the blood slowing falling from his nose and dripping down his face. He had never told Baylon his name. He had made sure to never tell him his name.

"Oh Jimmy," Baylon chuckled a shark-like smile pulling on his lips, "Did you really think I'd let you go? Oh, honey. You're mine now."