A/N: This might be the longest chapter yet hehe. These characters are starting to carry me away a little bit…

Title taken from the Rolling Stones (and Merry Clayton) song of the same name. Thanks for reading (and Earthdragon for reviewing) x

Chapter 30: Gimme Shelter

"Did you just call me Chuck?"

"Yeah?" he said, striding ahead so that she had to speed-walk to keep up. "That's how you introduced yourself when we first met. But good to see you got your story straight since then, Emily…"

If the Alive Again Avenger had the energy to care, she could have kicked herself for using her real name with him, instead of the one on her fake passport. She was so excited (and terrified) about flying for the first time that the whole fraud must have slipped her mind. That hardly mattered now, though, since it seemed Gene had always known more than he let on…

"How long have you been back?"

He glanced down at her with an almost apologetic look. "I kinda…never left. It's a lot easier to follow someone when they have no idea you're in town."

"…wait, what?" It occurred to her then that she was blindly following someone she knew nothing about. Chuck stopped walking, distraught at the thought that every second wasted put more distance between her and Charles Charles. But she needed to understand what was going on before she went anywhere else with him… "Who are you?"

Gene slowed to a stop, turned round. For some reason her mind chose that moment to observe he was dressed as Inspector Gadget…

"My name really is Eugene Mulchandani. I used to be friends with Ned."

"…my Ned?"

"The one who bakes pies and wakes the dead, yeah." He walked back, closing the distance between them but staying out of her personal bubble. "We went to Longborough together. He was my best – my only friend. Until I basically abandoned him 'cause he kept making weird things happen and I got scared."

Chuck frowned, scouring her mind for any mention Ned might have made of this…

"It seemed like a bad idea to tell anyone what I saw. Either they'd call me crazy, or they'd believe me, and then what? So I tried to forget…but I was a lonely nerd who just found out superpowers might be real. Which meant I spent all my spare time doing extra credit homework, building model airplanes and reading everything I could find on resurrection."

"…huh,"Chuck uttered, like she just found a piece of candy at the bottom of a bag. She heard detectives sometimes used silence in interrogations, to make the suspect uncomfortable; make them talk too much. Maybe catch them in a lie…

"Before I trained to be a pilot my dad said I had to get a 'real degree'. So I majored in biology, minored in zoology. Fun fact: the average rabbit lives nine years; the average python can live up to thirty. I kept both as pets. Bilbo and Ackbar – named them after my favorite Tolkien character and my favorite Star Wars character."

Chuck narrowed her eyes, as if squinting could help her see what this had to do with anything.

"When I was at Longborough they both died, kind of a murder-suicide. Ned offered to bury them for me, then he came back an hour later saying they were actually alive the whole time. They've been alive for over twenty years."

Dread took hold of Chuck at the thought of what young Ned must have done. She could almost see it in her mind – an impulsive miracle, smaller in scale than the one he performed on her, but just as reckless…

"Before college I thought there was no way to know for sure what happened. But then I got into Winchester…" He hesitated here, wincing. "And I thought it would be a good idea to study Ackbar, for a working thesis about cellular regeneration and mammalian lifespans. My professor liked my final project so much she tried to get it published in some journal. It didn't happen, but somebody important must've read it 'cause I got approached by a recruiter from the Office of Science and Technology. They said they could help me get more research funded, which is unheard of. I never even applied for a grant…"

Chuck felt as if her body had sprung a leak, allowing the frigid air to flood in. This was exactly what Ned had feared, since he was a child… "So you work for the government? You're like a spook?"

By the look on his face, one would think she slapped him. "I didn't sign up to be a spy. I wanted to learn more about how the world wor-" Just then, a rowdy group of teenagers rounded the corner, heading straight towards them. Eugene lowered his voice; took a step closer so that only she could hear him. "It was supposed to be an adventure. Travel the world doing field research, documenting cases of animals, maybe even people, living longer, or dying in strange ways…"

"And then what, put them in a scrapbook?" she hissed, glancing at the kids as they passed by.

With a mighty sigh, Eugene closed his eyes and tilted his head to the sky, shoulders sagging.

"Chuck, I am a highly intelligent idiot. My parents raised me to respect authority, to trust it. So I did. Until I saw something I wasn't supposed to see. Call it the ugly reality of scientific discovery."

She had no desire for him to elaborate on that, and neither, it seemed, did he.

"When reports came in about the Poppy Temple People, I had a bad feeling all roads led to Ned. So I pushed to get the assignment, said I had home court advantage. And when I got to Papen County I did everything I could to make it look like a lightning strike killed them. I know that doesn't make everything right. But I'm trying to put a stop to what I started."

"So how did you end up here, stalking me?"

He shrugged, at a loss. "You weren't part of the plan." Chuck felt her face contort in confusion, but before she could ask anything else he started to take a few steps backwards. "Look, can we walk and talk please?"

"…how do I know you're not leading me into a trap?"

The corner of his mouth quirked up and he bit at it. "If I wanted to trap you I would've done it the first time you visited your dad. Second floor of the Step Back Inn, Room 43?"

He was trying not to smile, which – given the severity of the situation – she found quite inappropriate. But he had a point.

"We gotta move, Chuck. I'd really like to not lose track of your dad while he's drunk. Especially since there's a good chance he's headed straight for Lily and Vivian."

"How do you know that?" she yelped, starting to walk without much conscious effort.

"Because I've been following him too, and he's been following them for weeks."

Chuck slapped her hands over her face. "Damn it, Dad," she muttered. Then she dipped her head down against the wind and followed Eugene into the bitter night…

XXX

According to Emerson, they would find Eddie perched on a rooftop, across the street from some department store whose construction was halted because of a code violation. The PI had sent him there, lying that someone who looked like Dwight was hiding out in the building…

The trio must have made quite a racket running up the stairs, because Ned flung open the door to find his father pointing a gun right at them.

"It's just us," he panted, barely registering the threat level.

"I can see that," Eddie snapped, holstering his weapon. "You trying to get your head blown off and blow my cover?"

"Dwight's not there! He just called the Pie Hole, he has Maurice and Ralston." Every time Ned heard himself say the words, it felt like someone had taken defibrillator paddles to his chest, sending a surge of adrenaline straight through him. "How could you let this happen? You act like you have eyes everywhere, but you left your other kids unattended?"

For as long as the Pie Maker had known his father (which was not very long), the man remained as cool as a mint julep in summer – no matter the circumstances. But at that moment, Ned could almost feel Eddie's temperature flare up with the rapidity of a forest fire.

"Do I look like the CIA? I don't have unlimited resources here! You have no idea-"

"Fellas, now is not the time," Emerson interjected.

At those words, Eddie went silent. He seemed to deflate, breathing out like a dragon that could only emit smoke. "Where are they? Where's he keeping the boys?"

"At the house, I think. He wants you to meet him there with your watch. He didn't seem to care if anyone else tags along."

"Which means he has a trump card," Eddie said, almost to himself. Ned could see the wheels turning in his father's mind. Then – having come to a conclusion – he straightened up, his expression setting into one of grim determination. "My car's downstairs. Kid, you ride with me…"

Emerson and Olive led the way out to the street, where Digby and Pigby were waiting in the car, antsy but quiet. Ned pressed a hand to the window, watching them for a minute. Then he moved round to the passenger side where Olive sat. He crouched down so he was at eye level.

"We'll go on ahead. But you – you two need to stick to the plan. Get to the Snooks-"

"Say what?"

"- and I'll catch up."

"Uh-uh! No way, pie guy." Olive shifted like she was about to get out of the car; he put his hand against the door to stop her opening it. "Let us help."

"You can help by staying out of the way." She started to protest, but then Eddie hooted, loud and insistent. "Olive, please. If anything happens to you – to any of you…" He looked over at Emerson, pleading wordlessly. The older man gave him a nod of understanding and started the car.

"Wait, I forgot the gun!" Olive yelped.

Ned tried and failed to smile. "I didn't."

Without a feasible reason to linger any longer, her face began to crumple, eyes brimming with tears. It occurred to him that if things went pear-shaped he may never see her again. Alas, there was no time to find the right words, no room for a reassuring hug. Instead, he leaned in and kissed her cheek. At least, he had aimed for her cheek, but she turned at the exact wrong moment and he caught her on the lips.

Olive looked startled, though not as startled as he felt. It was less of a defibrillator feeling; more like the shock of static electricity. Ned withdrew swiftly, straightened up. Emerson took that as his cue to peel off, with Olive half hanging out the window…

"She acts like you're going off to war," Eddie muttered when Ned got into the car.

"…yeah," the Pie Maker uttered. Unbeknownst to his father, those magic words had conjured a memory… "You know, I had this friend at Longborough. Eugene. We used to pretend to be soldiers, out in the woods. One day we found a dead hunter. Eugene freaked out and ran away but I stayed. I figured if the guy had been murdered, I could wake him up and find out who did it. Then I'd get in the papers or something. And you'd have to come back for me…"

Eddie said nothing for a good long while, his knuckles blanched as he gripped the steering wheel tight.

"I take it you didn't solve the murder."

Ned could have laughed at the meagerness of this response. "Nope. He shot himself by accident." The Pie Maker was tempted to ask what would have happened if he had ended up on the front page of some newspaper. Would his father have returned, if not to congratulate him then at least to castigate him?

After a moment, he decided against it. He already had a good idea what the answer to that would be…

XXX

Digby and Pigby seemed none too pleased to leave the Pie Maker behind, whining and squealing as they were driven away to destinations unknown. Itty Bitty did not seem capable of comforting them. It was as if someone had pressed mute on her, leaving her staring out the window while she grappled with her own emotions.

After a while he began to root around in the glove compartment for some sweet treat with which to comfort them. Pets were not unlike children when presented with a sugary distraction…

"They can't eat that!" Olive yapped, snapping out of her funk all of a sudden.

"Well then you figure out how to calm 'em down," Emerson grumbled.

At that, she heaved a sigh, wiped her eyes. Olive unbuckled her seatbelt and clambered inelegantly into the back.

"It's okay, cuddle bugs," she cooed. "You're gonna have so much fun where we're going. There's a big yard for you to run around in, and a lake to swim in, and lots of toys and treats. And Ned will come join us real soon…"

Her voice caught in her throat just then, but the words that came before seemed to have an effect. They drove in silence all the way to North Thrush, only stopping on the outskirts of town when they found a payphone.

Emerson fished around in his pocket for the piece of paper with the hotel number on it. The assumption had been that Ned would call Chuck; fortunately, the PI planned ahead…

"Bonsoir, you have reached the front desk of the Turtle Shell Inn. How may I help you today?"

"Yeah, the name's Emerson Cod. Would you be so kind as to connect me to the room of Miss Emily Frontenac?"

"Ah, my apologies, I'm quite sure Mademoiselle Frontenac has gone out."

The PI sighed. He should have accounted for that, what with it being Halloween.

"All right, how about Lily and Vivian Charles? She works for them."

"So sorry again, Monsieur, I believe the Darling Mermaid Darlings are also out." Now that was a bit of a surprise… "But I can connect you to their room just in case?"

"…uh no, that won't be necessary, thank you," Emerson replied.

He was almost relieved to hear that they were unreachable. It was one thing to tell them Team Pie Hole were all safe, headed to the Snook estate together. It was another thing entirely to admit that they had left one of their own behind to confront Dwight.

Emerson would rather not explain everything over the phone. It made him ill to even think too long on what might be happening. For now, the best he could do for his friend was keep moving forward…