To any readers still reading this: I'm sorry for my absence, but ideas would not come. At all. This is more or less a stray thought from a bunny that whacked me over the head some time ago.

My apologies to you all, but it's AU. I think I may be experiencing more stray thoughts in the future. Not sure on that one. Don't worry, I've satisfied the bunny by getting this down, it's been appeased.

City

The loud pounding that was filling my ears then was not helping the bout of guilt that kept twisting at my stomach. It took me what felt like hours to realize that it was my own heartbeat, caught up in the adrenaline rush. I've never felt this guilty ever since Fran and I were children, and she would get hurt somehow and I wasn't there to watch out for her. But back then, they were small things. Small things that she didn't really care about, and would always tell me that it wasn't my fault.

This was different. I never told her about working as a detective on the side. I even made Pyunma promise not to mention this to her. There was no way we could ever let her know about what we dealt with, and we tried to enforce that. She cared about the both of us very much, and that just made this whole night harder. We always took cases that would ensure that neither of us were injured in the process, to leave no evidence of what we've been up to for my sister to worry over. (We even managed to keep our identities somewhat in the dark, when necessary.) And those jobs especially didn't involve creeping through grungy moonlit alleyways in the urban wastelands that made up the majority of downtown, with loaded guns carefully tucked in our jackets.

If any of us were hurt tonight, then she'd know.

Pyunma walked alongside me, and I could tell he was mentally preparing himself for whatever loomed ahead, deeper into the infested darkness of the city. He wouldn't be the kind to use a gun in a fight, I've seen it for myself. He preferred to fight unarmed, and was great at it. So far, few people could really take him down. But these were different people. People who were completely lost in the Ghost drug to even consider their actions anymore. I didn't want to think of anything farther than that, going with a vain attempt to quell the guilt. If we had never started this crazy "Detective Business", we would never have been caught up in this.

"We're meeting the others at the corner of Ten and Pell, right?" Even his voice had determination coating every word. It was as though he was absolutely ready for anything that was thrown at us.

I nodded, and then realized Pyunma wasn't the type to hold this against me. The thought made me glad to be his friend at that moment.

It might have been enough to calm me, if not for the other reason he brought up. Because of our investigations, we managed to bring in a group of civilians into this whole mess. Granted, Heinrich knew how to take care of himself under that calm exterior. I saw it in his eyes once, long before the first scuffle. It was somehow easy to understand the minute you could see it. Jet, didn't even need an explanation. Hell, G. Jr. can really put up a fight. When I saw him the first time, I wasn't sure whether to be amazed, frightened, or both. That was him, kind and strong in one package. And both Changku and Britain were both willing to help us, keeping their ears to the ground for any information we may have needed.

But that was then, this was something else entirely.

Our footsteps moved farter into the mess of dilapidated buildings, and at the moment I was far too conscious of how loud they could be when no one else was around. A pale crescent moon hung overhead against the murky backdrop that hid most of the stars that night. The gun holster just under my jacket suddenly felt heavier, determined to weigh me down with the added guilt. I briefly raised a hand up to my neck, tugging at the crisp black collar of the shirt underneath. The weather forecast I managed to catch earlier mentioned something about humidity, but I had a vague impression that downtown was eager to defy the weather as much as a majority of the laws and those who upheld them.

The sudden chill was something none of us really needed.

But if there was anyone who was prepared for the draft, it was the fourth reason of my guilt, the guy walking right behind us. Shimamura. I looked out of the corner of my eye, until I could catch a glimpse of the telltale red jacket he often had on his person. The hood was pushed up, efficiently covering the hair that Fran would mention resembled mine, just a little messier. I had to agree with her there.

He was a year or so younger than us when we first met, him wanting to apply for the job as our assistant. He was good with work, physical and menial, and there was just something about the guy we both liked. Plus, he treated my sister with respect the first time I introduced her, and he still does. But we tended to notice other aspects of him as time went by. He was the more or less subdued one of the group, often flashing a smile that just defined the word tranquil.

So it came as an even further shock to us that even he could have a side that was a far cry from the kid we knew.

That was the Shimamura I was looking at now, with the hood shadowing his face perfectly so no details were spared to us. The same Shimamura who we both knew was once accused of a blazing fire that took out a church in the safer parts of town. He witnessed exactly what could happen if worse came to worst, and I didn't want to drag him into what may be an even worse repeat of the Incident.

An icy sensation spreading over my left ankle brought me back to reality, and I noticed that I managed to step in a puddle when I wasn't paying attention. We emerged from the alleyway soon enough, seeing a narrower sidewalk lit with a single street lamp, flickering every now and again as we passed by under it.

When the shot rang out, a newer feeling of the unexpected froze my stomach for the briefest moment. Like when you're going up the stairs in the dark, and you think there's one step left to go, when your foot suddenly falls though empty space… that's the feeling. Thinking we all had both our feet planted firmly to the ground, when we heard the first bullet from beyond the run down apartment, everything else buckled in that one instant.

I could just feel Joe tensing up behind me, before painfully forcing out the whisper of, "Let's go."

We started running.