AN: Hello again, hope you enjoy the chapter. On a side note, Outlast 2 is out now and if you have the chance I highly recommend playing/watching it. I'm only like four hours in and it makes Outlast and Whistleblower look like a stroll through the park in comparison. If you want to hear a fangirl rant about it feel free to creep on my profile, enough about that here though. Thank you for reading and extra thank yous for reviews.

***Ch 25***

I huddled into the stolen jacket. I had called someone, that was at least a little better than just letting Schaefer lie waiting to be found in the apartment. Right?

There you go with the good guy act.

Don't pretend you're worried about it. It's not like we really have to worry about being arrested. They don't exactly make prisons that could keep you locked up.

No, they don't. No one has a flair for the dramatic these days either. Have I ever told you about the time I was burned as a witch?

I must missed that one.

I wasn't in the mood for banter right now and tucked myself deeper into the jacket as I walked. The other dreamer was still on the move. The beacon that I couldn't quite place still sat in the middle of town. Even from this far away it was like a low hum wavering through the city.

Any idea what that is?

…No.

That didn't sound like a lie at all

It's just some damaged person. You'll be attracted to them like a moth to flame. If you're so hell bent on putting off the inevitable I would recommend avoiding them.

Why's that one so hard to ignore. I stopped walking and leaned against a lamp post

I told you. They're damaged.

Not telling me the whole story was how we ended up in the situation in the first place.

Correction: your obsession with acting like a hero got us into this situation

I'm tired and I don't want to argue about it. What aren't you telling me?

The last thing I needed was more half truths and cryptic warnings. Besides, the other dreamer was going to the same place and I wanted to know what to expect when I got there.

You're not going to like it.

I'm surprised you're putting off telling me then.

There was a familiar bit of annoyed static that faded quickly. Fine then, it's the Park children.

I walked away from my spot against the lamp post.

What?

They spent a month in a murkoff facility, don't tell me you didn't know they were damaged.

I quickened my pace. At the Pierces house Connor had been screaming "they're here" when the dreamers showed up. I didn't want to think about how, but he also knew that the walrider was gone.

When you say damaged, how bad are we talking?

You know where they are from halfway across town, how bad do you think it is?

That same dull throb that I had felt from the apartment still hung in the air. The other dreamer was getting closer too. I hadn't gotten too far from the apartment but the lure of it was almost enough to make me miss the police cruiser that was moving down the snowy street.

I had to stop myself from breaking out into a light trot.

What did murkoff do to them?

How should I know.

Any ideas? By damaged do you mean normally, or are we saying variant levels of broken, or is it worse than that? I didn't want to imagine that the boys were caught up in something as bad as the walrider project or the dreamer experiment, but I couldn't help but shake the memory of connor screaming they're here over and over again at the presence of the dreamers, about how off he had seemed when we left the Zeichner facility.

That would be easier for you to figure out at this point.

You're being even more useful than usual.

Annoyed static came out of nowhere and didn't give any sign of clearing up.

I continued on my way, taking in the thickness of the air. Unlike the hundreds of little emotions that had drifted through the apartment this one was constant, like it was as much a part of the town as the buildings and people. Whatever was giving off that low ache wasn't something I would want running around in my head.

Calm down miles, Murkoff just does that to people. There's no reason to think that Connor had been made into the walrider 2.0.

Except for the fact that he knew the Walrider wasn't around when I had seen him. He was a kid, Lisa or Waylon never would have mentioned anything about Murkoff to him. How did he even know that there was something that could be missing in the first place?

I did my best to burrow into the jacket and my thoughts when a few more police cars drove past.

Had someone found Schaefer? That was faster than I had thought it would be.

One more person dead by my hands. Should I be going to wherever the Park boys were? Hadn't I already done enough to ruin the poor kids lives?

No, the other dreamer was going there too and it wouldn't hesitate to do god knows what. I had to beat it to the punch, then beat it to a bloody pulp.

A voice came through the ever present static. And then what? Assuming you get that far.

I don't know and it doesn't matter; I'll figure it out when I get there.

Well you had better figure it out quickly because we're getting close.

It was right; if I squinted I'm sure I would have been able to see whatever it was that was drawing me to the Parks. The other dreamer was getting closer too, it was maybe two miles away. I was outside of a walgreens near the center of town. The parking lot was mostly empty of cars and home to piles of snow and slush.

The inside of the building was as empty as the lot outside. An underpaid twenty something stood behind the cash register, one or two people wandered the isles. The Parks were somewhere near the back, by the pharmacy.

I went to the nearest aisle and pretended to browse the shelves.

Self restraint from you? That's a surprise.

Not even you could make me get any closer. Besides, I'm here for the other dreamer. The kids have been through enough.

Right, the other dreamer. Don't tell me you plan on fighting it.

Well…

The heaviness in the air grew in concentration.

What happens when I get pulled back to it? You'd be left blind and unarmed.

...It's blind too.

This isn't the time for jokes.

Fine, then you'll just have to make sure not to listen to it.

That didn't work at the house and that didn't work in Chicago. What makes you think it'll work now?

I could dive into some sentimental bullshit about how much we've been through, or I could point out the fact that you put a bunch of weird symbols on my back and used them to pilot yourself right back into my head. What other tricks do you have?

...No. absolutely not.

It's do or die. Pick one.

Either way it looks like the same thing to me.

You are such a drama queen.

I don't think you understand. You can't just go around messing with arcane things you don't understand.

It was getting closer. I had to fight to ignore the hum in the air.

I've got you tied to the inside of my skull, I think I get it loud and clear.

You really don't. You can't just go around etching sigils into wherever you damn well please, that was a last ditch effort.

This is pretty last ditch too. Besides the dreamers are a disease, If I go down you go down with me.

You're 'going down' regardless of what I do.

Then what does it matter to you how crazy of an idea I have?

Because I would like to be able to leave when this is all said and done. I've existed for millennia, I've known you for a year.

Ouch.

That doesn't change anything. You're still stuck with dreamer infection, you said it yourself.

I almost couldn't hear the annoyed static over the groaning air that filled the building.

I loath you.

You too-

"Miles?" a little voice rose above the conversation in my head.

My skin went crawling and as much as I didn't want to I felt myself look to the side. Connor stared quizzically back up at me.

Fuck.

"You have it back?" the kid muttered just above hearing.

"Uhhh…. Go find your grandma." I hastily stepped away to, I don't know, the bathroom?

Connor followed me, I stopped in another aisle. I wasn't about to let him follow me into the back rooms.

"Go away" I tried, and failed, not to sound like a madman. The waves of tempting emotion bombarded me through the air. I fought down the urge to do what I had at the apartment, barely managing that I fought down the urge to vomit out of disgust for myself.

"But it's almost here."

"Then go get your grandma and leave."

"But she's going to die today"

Huh? No, I'm not going to get into that. I don't want to know-

"What? Why?" I asked in spite of myself,

Damn it.

Leave.

We've been over this. No.

There wasn't another reply before my legs started moving without my input.

Don't fight me on this. We're staying.

You don't have the energy to fight me while you're busy fighting yourself.

The store seemed to drift in and out of focus under the wavering air. I did what I could to hold my ground, but I still took a few teetering steps down the hall.

I changed my mind. We're using your idea.

The dreamer was getting closer It couldn't be more than a few blocks away. Connor was saying something. I couldn't quite make it out, the words didn't really make sense, it didn't sound like english. Or was I imagining that? I had to be.

Move.

The ripples in the air were visible now. No one else seemed to notice them, no one else could. It wasn't the same as it was before, not the same tempting call for action that I had felt on the street. This was sinister, like the tension in the air before an ambush. Had I done something stupid again?

Probably.

I blinked out of my confusion. I was behind the store now, when had I gone outside?

Sit down, this is going to be painful.

Wha-

"Gaahh…" I crumble down to the ground, sightless.

What felt like fire trailed down my back and washed over my legs. Shrieking static blocked out the sound of my pained grunts. Every bone in my body cracked and reformed carrying sigils and scars.

Hold still. This is delicate work!

I groped at the ground just for something solid to hold on to. Before I steadied myself a sharp pain jolted through my brain. I could have taken an ax to the head and it would have been less painful. As quickly as I found myself flat on the ground writhing in agony the pain stopped and the static faded.

I did my best to focus on the sky above me and cold ground below. Anything to bring my senses back to the back alley.

What the fuck was that.

That was desperate. Also, that was your idea. Never forget that.

The aura in the air still called like a siren from inside the store, but that creeping thing that sat just below the surface seemed louder. More clear.

I took much too long to stand up.

What is that?

Someone I didn't think I'd ever have to deal with again.

Someone?

Murkoff had done it, the bastards. They had gone and fucked with more things they could ever hope to understand, and now there was another monster on the loose and it had gone and buried itself in a helpless kid. I went too easy on them.

I was nearly too busy choking down that new tide of anger to notice the other dreamer sprint past the front of the building.

"Not today" I did my best to run back to the entrance.