Chapter Two: Soliders-For-Hire
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"Go to sleep."
"Ghosts don't sleep."
"Well, then find something to do."
"Why?"
The Fear turned, facing away from the ghost, who sat on the small chair beside the bed. "Because I can't sleep with you starin' at me all night."
"I-I'm not staring at you! I'm...thinking."
"Then go think in the living room. Watch some TV or something. You're creepin' me out."
The Sorrow obliged. They needed an early start tomorrow, hoping to knock this case out of the way quickly and focus on tracking down The Joy. That in itself would be a challenge, even for them. Even if The Sorrow could just transport to her, The Fear still had to get there. He was the translator, after all.
He wondered why The Fear was different. To be honest, he'd tried all the others first. He hadn't exactly been overjouyed with the prospect of depending on the Spider Soldier. He wasn't the most reliable of the Cobras.
Although he'd grown up quite a bit since they'd disbanded. So he found himself not minding as much as he first thought he would. He could tell that sophomoric streak was still in his friend, but he managed to control it a great deal more than he used to.
He'd gone to the Joy first, of course. But it seemed that even the bond they'd shared hadn't left her with the ability to aknowledge him. That had been a deep blow. Then he sought out The End, hoping his years had left him insightful to the spirit world. But the old man had just slept. For weeks. And when The Sorrow tried to wake him, he passed right through the autotroph. Not even the damned parrot paid him any mind.
The benefit of being a ghost around The Pain was that you couldn't get stung. But it hadn't mattered in the long run. He'd almost had some progress with The Fury. The cosmonaut was able to sense a presence, but nothing beyond that.
Except fire. There was a lot of fire directed at an unknown presence.
By the time he'd reached The Fear's apartment, he'd basically given up hope. That was why he'd waited the week for The Fear to return instead of seeking him out. He just hadn't cared enough to put up the effort.
He'd been as shocked as The Fear when he'd opened his eyes and saw him--actually saw him. Relief had flooded through him just hearing someone speak to him, answer him.
Now he felt infinately better, if not a little bored. He decided to look around to kill time. He was going to need something to do at night, now that he wasn't burdened by the concept of sleep.
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BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BE--
SLAM!
The small alarm clock hit the wall, bounding off it with the force and hitting the floor. Mumbling obscenities, The Fear sat up, running a hand through sleep-tangled hair. He got out of bed, padding toward the cup of coffee that ould save what remained of the poor clock's life.
The Sorrow looked up as the bedroom door opened, watching the black-haired man stumble towrd the kitchen. He tripped once on the long hem of his plaid pajama pants, but managed to make it without any damage. He'd poured himself some coffee, added cream and sugar and taken a long sip before he stopped, noticing something.
"Did you make coffee?"
The Sorrow nodded. "I figured you might need it."
He took another sip. "Thanks."
"You're welcome," he replied, turning back to the book he had open on the floor.
The mercenary took his cup and sat on the sofa. "Whatcha got there?"
He smiled a tiny bit. "I was looking around and found these in the closet."
"The picture albums?"
"Yes. Although I have to admit," he looked up at The Fear, an amused look on his face, "I didn't take you for the sentimental type."
The Fear grinned back. "You didn't take me for the ghost seeing type either."
"This is true."
He stretched, joints moving in and out of place without him even trying. "So...do you eat?"
"I haven't bothered to check," he shrugged. "But I don't get hungry."
"Fair enough. If you want anything, just speak up. We've got a meeting with this guy in a few hours. After that's taken care of, we're free to look up Joy."
The Sorrow nodded. "Thank you."
"No problem," he returned to the kitchen, setting his empty cup in the sink. When he turned around, he found The Sorrow watching him. "What?"
The silver-haired man blinked. "I was just wondering why you're so different than I remember."
The Fear returned the gaze with a smirk. "What, because I haven't picked on you yet? Give me a little credit, I have to have time to gather some new material."
He laughed. It wasn't something the mercenary was used to hearing, but it was nice.
The pair headed out shortly after. The Fear, in a purple dress shirt and black pants to The Sorrow's amazement, also carried a backpack. It contained the files he'd kept for the completed contract and the ones he'd made up this morning for the new one. There was also a few necessary tools for what was going to transpire.
The Sorrow walked beside the mercenary, passing through anyone who happened to be in his path. The Fear, a bit self-concious after the diner incident, muttered at him, "That's gonna take getting used to watching."
The ghost was in a particularly good mood. "I suppose it is. I'm impressed how well you clean up."
He laughed. "You go around wearin' military gear all the time and people get suspicious."
"So what's the plan?"
The Fear crossed the street, The Sorrow hurrying behind. "We find some way to get him by himself, away from everyone else. Then we take him out. Short and to the point."
His client had agreed to meet with him at a park to discuss something regarding the end of the contract. He'd been vague on purpose, luring his client-turned-mark in with mystery. It worked, and he had wanted to meet with him immediately.
The park was deserted for the most part. Children were in school, and it was a few hours until business lunch break. The less people present, the less the chance of someone getting hurt unecessarily, should something go wrong.
The Fear sat on a bench, hands in his pockets.
The Sorrow sat beside him. "So is this all you've been doing?" he asked casually.
"Hey," he replied in mock-defense. "I've been very productive."
"In murder. Not to mention it's like a bad detective movie."
"How'd you like to be my secretary?"
Rolling his eyes, he shoved his friend a little.
"Do you normally talk to yourself?" a rather rotund middle-aged man in a grey business suit asked, sitting by The Fear on the bench. The Sorrow, despite his practice at this phasing through people, was still caught off-guard. With a yelp of surprise, he floated above the bench.
The Fear just grinned. "Only here lately..."
"Okay, let's just get this over with. You finished the job, correct?"
"Yeah, it's done."
"So why do you need to talk to me?"
He glanced up at The Sorrow before putting his plan into action. "Well, before he died, he...tried to bribe me into sparing him. I still took care of him, but I've got a few things I think you ought to look through."
"What kind of things?"
"Material possessions, some property deeds..." he shrugged. "It doesn't mean anything to me, and I figured you could benefit from it."
He looked impressed. "Sounds interesting."
The Fear stood. "Well, you'll understand for safety reasons, I wouldn't bring them with me. I've got them hidden shortly from here. Would you follow me?"
The man obeyed, either utterly naiive or too busy with his greed to notice the dangers that awaited him. Seeing as though he paid for an assasination, The Sorrow guessed it was the latter. The Fear led him out of the safety of the park and down the street.
For what it was worth, the plump man didn't try to make useless conversation. At least until they stopped in an alley. Then he started talking.
"What's going on?" he demanded, taking a nervous step away from the raven-haired man.
The mercenary grabbed the man by his jacket lapel, slamming him face-first into the brick wall. "Let's call it... reciprocation."
He tried to speak, one of his cheeks pressed roughly against the stone. "What are you talking about? How dare you double-cross me!"
"The contract was fufilled. I have another contract now. With his last request, he made one for you."
"NO!"
He ended it then, the smaller of his crossbows out and fired before he could go into whatever he may have had to say. The Fear didn't waste any time with non-fatal wounds, as he usually would when he wanted to toy with a mark. This one was far too annoying.
Straight headshot.
The man's body slid lifelessly down the wall. The Fear frowned distastefully, wiping at the small flecks of red now on his shirt. "Figures he'd be a messy one.:
The Sorrow was staring at the corpse. "So what now?"
He set the knapsack down, pulling it open. "We clean up and hightail it before someone decides to take a shortcut."
From what he remembered, he knew the blue-eyed man would have some lecture about how killing brought suffering. He'd heard it a million times over the years. So he was quite surprised, after pulling a large canvas sheet from his bag, that the smaller Cobra said nothing, grabbing a side of it and offering to help.
There was probably going to be a lecture at some point and time.
With the job completed and cleaned up, the pair returned to the apartment. The Sorrow continued perusing photo albums while The Fear showered and changed out of blood-speckled clothes.
"So I figured we could check out some newspaper back issues for news that might help," The Fear said later, rumaging around his living room chair for a new shirt.
The Sorrow looked at him questionably, wondering why he kept his laundry in the living room. "Do you think they'd actually print something like that in the paper?"
He shrugged, running his towel through his hair. "Probably not in plain words. But we know what to look for, right?"
The ghost looked away suddenly, uncomfortable. "...If you think so."
The Fear quirked an eyebrow, but didn't ask, not expecting to get an answer if he did. Instead he tossed the towel uncaringly on the couch and slipped a t-shirt over his head. "Okay then."
He knelt down where The Sorrow was sprawled out and began to pick up the album books. When he recieved a confused look, he grinned.
"We'll take them with us. That way you have something to do if you get bored."
The Sorrow frowned. "Gee, should we bring colouring books too?"
He stuffed the books into the knapsack. "I'm just tryin' to help. If you start talking to me over there, I'm gonna talk back, and I'll look insane."
"Oh, you need me as an explination for insanity..."
"You ready to go or not?"
The Sorrow got to his feet. As they passed the doorside table, The Fear snatched the wallet off it as a second thought. Couldn't hurt to bring it along. Locking the door behind them, they started down the stairs.
"I usually get some good information out of the papers," The Fear explained, starting down the stairs. "You just have to know how to look."
The Sorrow stopped, frowning. "Do you smell something burning?"
The mercenary tilted his head, sniffing the air. "Come to think of it, yeah. What do you think--"
He was cut off as a flame blared through the stairway, knocking him back with the force. He fell against the wall opposite the stairs, slumping to the floor. The Sorrow ran to him.
"Now I'll make sure you leave me alone..."
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Haha cliffhanger for you all.