#wait i have more notes but my phone ran out of battery ;w;;

[noxtivagus]

emotional over shadowbringers hours again yes

[writing-royza]

Tainted Blood, Tainted Soul: Chapter Twenty - Hunting the Hunter

A/N: Happy Sunday, everyone! I'm sorry for the delay; it was two busy weekends in a row, and I had no time at all during the week to write, followed by just a really bad week. Someday, I'm going to just get a hotel room somewhere in the city and spend the entire weekend doing absolutely nothing but recharging my mental batteries and writing fanfiction. But I'm back, feeling better, and I'm ready for you to enjoy Chapter Twenty!

I do not own FMA.

Chapter Twenty - Hunting the Hunter

CENTRAL MILITARY HEADQUARTERS, CENTRAL CITY

0843 HOURS, APRIL 23RD

Breda hung up the phone, sitting back in the chair with a frown of deep thought and a tingle of unease in the pit of his stomach. The call had not gone as he had anticipated or hoped… and that did not sit well with someone as used to thinking three moves in advance as he was.

"It could just be that there's a problem with the lines out to Ishval," Fuery suggested. He had pulled a chair over from the phone kiosk to the left so that he could listen to the call, and still sat leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. "They were only meant to be temporary ones, just until the military could run long-term lines out there."

Despite the plausibility of his explanation, he didn't sound confident.

"Yeah… but with the information we've got, I don't want to take chances." Breda folded his arms over his chest, still watching the phone with a concerned and perplexed frown. "Did Rebecca or Falman say whether they had had any luck getting in touch with them?"

Fuery shook his head. "Rebecca said that Riza had called her the day before they left, and promised to touch base once they got to Jadad, but there was no word after that." He shifted nervously in his chair. "You don't think that… well, maybe something went wrong with the truck? Like it broke down, or they had an… accident?"

"Hard to have an accident when the landscape is flat with hardly anything to run into," he answered dryly. "As for mechanical trouble, they're both resourceful enough to either fix anything that went wrong. If they had to abandon it, they would hike to whichever was closest - Jadad, or some Amestrian settlement." He rocked the chair back, still thinking. "If it were Jadad, and we can't get through, then neither can they. An Amestrian town wouldn't have the same problem."

He dropped the chair back to all four legs, and got to his feet with a stretch. "All things considered, if the Promised Day didn't kill them, a three day drive won't either. Once we can re-establish communications with Jadad, I bet you anything they'll be there and already hip-deep in work."

Fuery caught up quickly, falling into step beside him as they left the communications centre. "And what about the message we were trying to get to them?" he persisted. "They still need to know about that."

"We also still need to tell Grumman," Breda pointed out. They emerged into a hallway, joining the pedestrian flow of soldiers arriving for the start of the work day and the few tired-eyed night shift workers heading for the exits. "If we can't reach the Colonel or Lieutenant, Then he takes precedence."

They ducked into a stairwell, climbing toward the third floor of the half-demolished building. Tarps flapped gently along one side of the structure where it would otherwise be open to the bare and blasted parade ground and what had once been neatly maintained lawns. The cleanup alone, to make things restoration-read, had taken a week and a half, with the rebuilding only just getting underway.

Breda caught a glimpse past the tarp as they started up the second-to-last flight of stairs – the sky was overcast with the promise of rain, the air already thickening slightly with accumulating humidity. The kind of weather the Boss hates, he thought idly. Just as well he's not here.

The outer waiting room of the Office of the Führer-President was deserted when they arrived. A pair of empty couches faced each other over a glass-topped coffee table, with a single desk sitting just inside the doors. Breda glanced over as they passed, noting a few particular details on it that marked its most recent occupant. Paper with familiar handwriting, an empty dog bowl tucked out of the way in the foot well, and the brass nameplate reading '1st Lt. R. Hawkeye.'

Fuery knocked twice on the tall, wooden double doors at the far side of the room, waiting for the confirming call of 'Enter!' before grasping the long brass handle and pulling the heavy panel open.

It was clear, from the moment they entered, that they were walking in on another conversation. Grumman watched them enter, seated in silhouette against the window behind the large desk. Standing in front of it, his hands folded behind his back and looking back at them over one shoulder, was Alex Louis Armstrong.

Both newcomers paused in the doorway to salute. "Sorry if we're interrupting," Breda said by way of greeting. "We can wait outside if –"

"Nonsense," Grumman interjected, waving away their formalities by beckoning them forward. "I suspect we're all discussing the same thing, here." He nodded in Armstrong's direction. "The Major here was just updating me on the situation with Mr. Collins of the Central Times."

Fuery winced. "Is he going to press charges? Lieutenant Hawkeye said she sent a letter of apology to his office, but–"

"She won't be charged," Armstrong rumbled, his face composed but his eyes twinkling lightly with humour. "I spoke to Mr. Collins' editor and it appears that the reporter received a rather strong backlash from his coworkers. Something about 'pushing the envelope' and 'starting trouble' with 'still-healing soldiers."

Grumman was openly grinning, his fingers laced together under his chin. "Perhaps Mr. Collins will be wise enough to learn from this mishap to keep his mouth closed and his ears open, instead of the other way around. This does come as a relief, though. We'll add it to the list of things to be communicated to the Colonel at our next check in. Speaking of…."

Grey eyes settled on Breda and Fuery, his expression turning expectant. "How did things go this morning?"

"They… didn't, sir," Fuery admitted. "That's why we came to see you. The temporary phone lines that East City ran out to Ishval last week appear to be down."

The new Führer-President went very still, his gaze boring into the two younger men. "Down," he repeated, his tone carefully neutral. "Down how?"

Fuery faltered under that stare, the one that had been subduing unruly soldiers and insubordinate officers for decades. "I'm… I'm not sure what you mean, sir…. If they're down, they're down. They're… not working."

The expression softened, Grumman's hands lowering to rest, folded, on the desk. "I'm sorry, with both of them in unfamiliar and politically restless territory so soon after being wounded… I had hoped to rely on our communications to make sure they stayed as… recovered as they seemed to be." He smiled, though it wasn't much more than reflexive. "When you say 'down,' do you mean temporarily or permanently?"

"Temporary, for sure," Breda put in. "I think our next move is to have East City try and establish radio contact with Jadad, instead of telephone."

Fuery was nodding in agreement. "The signal will be scratchy, but it should at least be understandable. We'll have to give Rebecca a message of everything we want to say, and have her take down all of the Colonel's and Lieutenant's responses." He shrugged. "It's not exactly the fastest or smoothest way to share information, but given the circumstances…."

Grumman was already nodding. "It's at least more of a plan that we had a moment ago. The only question remaining is what information we would like relayed." He looked back to Armstrong. "The news of Mr. Collins, of course, but is there anything else? Any news of the East-Central Slayer?"

"Unfortunately, there is." Breda had gone from optimistic to grim in a matter of seconds. "Rebecca got in touch this morning to update us; that's how we knew that the lines to Ishval are down. Things out there have taken a bit of an unexpected — and suspicious — turn."

Leaning back in the carved wooden Presidential chair, Grumman's face was composed, but with more than a hint of resignation. "Don't they always," he murmured. "Go on; what's happened?"

"Well… if you remember, sir, the last contact anyone had with the killer was when he robbed the blood bank at the East City Military Hospital," Fuery began. "He stole six pint jars of blood in varying types, killed a male nurse who caught him in the act and a guard who tried to stop him leaving, and then disappeared. He hasn't been seen in the city since then."

"Bizarre sort of thing to steal," Grumman murmured.

Armstrong was frowning as he absorbed the information. "What was the date of that last attack?"

"April 21st. Two days ago." Fuery paused a moment to let that sink in before adding, "The last time he took a longer break between killings was when he murdered the hospital administration clerk here in Central and then moved on to East City."

The large man eyed him thoughtfully, blue eyes watchful above his moustache. "And you believe that the reason there have been no attacks since the 21st is because the killer has migrated once again?" Fuery nodded. "Do you have any idea where he might have gone?"

Breda and Fuery both shook their heads, but Grumman got to his feet, beginning to come around to the front of the desk. "There is some… information I've not yet shared," he said grimly. "I was keeping it to myself for now, in the hopes that the fewer people knew about it, the less risk would be posed to the Colonel and Lieutenant."

He stood with his hands behind his back, grim in the morning sunlight coming through the window. "The reason for the two of them going on to Ishval was only in part due to the threat of legal action by Mr. Collins. That is the part I told you, because the other is… much worse." Grey eyes flashed in warning. "What I am about to tell you does not leave this room, except to inform the rest of the investigative team. Am I clear?"

At the three nods and murmurs of 'yes, sir,' he continued. "It would appear that Lieutenant Hawkeye has caught this killer's attention. When or how, I do not know – I don't think even she knows the answer to those questions. She and the Colonel were staying in my old apartment in East City for the duration of their investigation there, and in that time… the killer sought them out, broke in, and caused a… confrontation."

The blood drained out of Fuery's face at the same time Breda's jaw clenched. Armstrong's moustache bristled, his blue eyes wide. "Are they all right?"

"Physically, yes." Behind his back, Grumman clenched his left hand tightly around his right wrist to keep himself calm. "The attack was mostly focussed on Lieutenant Hawkeye, and, strangely enough, involves blood." He took a deep breath before saying, "He forced her to drink his."

Somehow, Fuery's jaw didn't wind up on the floor, although it tried mightily. Breda swallowed hard, looking sickened, and brief flashes of shock, sympathy, and anger crossed Armstrong's face so quickly that catching them all was difficult. The big man was the first to regain his power of speech.

"And did she… get rid of it?"

"After he was chased away, yes. I'm told she was so disgusted by it that she vomited almost immediately." He shook his head wearily. "Though if this is the perverse purpose he puts his own blood toward, I shudder to think what his plans for the bottles he stole is."

Breda gave a full body shudder, shaking himself back to reality. "I can see why you didn't want to tell us, sir. It's like something out of a horror story."

Beside him, Fuery went still, his shoulders stiffening and eyes widening. "…Say that again."

"'…It's like… something out of a horror story?'"

Recognition dawned in the young man's eyes, his gaze introspective as he nodded slowly. "That's because it is. A vampire forcing a victim to drink his — the vampire's — blood… that's straight out of classic vampire lore. It's called a baptism of blood; it's how one vampire turns a new one." He grinned sheepishly, coming back to the present as he glanced around at the other three, all of them staring at him. "…I read a lot of monster stories as a kid."

Breda's expression turned skeptical. "That's the key word here, though, isn't it? Stories?" He shook his head. "This guy is just… a guy. Somebody who's probably read the exact same stories you did, and is just cracked enough to believe that he's an actual vampire, so he tries to act like one."

"Stories, perhaps," Armstrong rumbled darkly, "but I know for a fact that monsters are real." He reached up, rubbing at his left shoulder, still tender from where it had been dislocated on the Promised Day. "I fought one on the Promised Day… and served another in the military for several years. I'm not above believing that the monsters in cautionary tales could be real; the ideas had tom come from somewhere."

"Usually folklore, dreamed up by scared people to explain the unexplainable," Breda countered. "I'll agree that monsters do exist; I can't deny the existence of the Homonculi or their Father. What I'm saying is that there's got to be a better explanation than some pointy-toothed bloodsucker, or at least some kind of proof."

"After hearing all the accounts from Central on the Promised Day… after have my own soul ripped out and then slammed back home by a mystically evil being I've never even seen…." Grumman moved to lean back against the desk, folding his arms over his narrow chest. "After all that, I think I'm willing to come down on the side of belief."

Breda still didn't look convinced, but Fuery spoke up before he could voice his skepticism. "So if this guy is some kind of vampire, and if he turned Lieutenant Hawkeye before she left for Ishval…. Could he be going after her? And stealing the blood for…." He swallowed hard in distaste. "For… provisions until he reaches Jadad?"

The room went deathly silent for a long moment, before Armstrong spoke. "…It might be best to have East City establish radio contact with Jadad as soon as possible."

EAST CITY MILITARY HEADQUARTERS

0953 HOURS, APRIL 23RD

She sat with her shoulders hunched beside the radio receiver, headphones clamped to her ears with both hands and a frown etched into her face. Rebecca shook her head, hearing the padding over her ears creak with the movement. "Still nothing, try again."

Beside her, still tired from a hurried day and night of train travel, Falman inched the frequency dial over notch by notch, his other hand holding his own headphones tightly against one ear. "We're going to have to start going backward along the frequencies before much longer. There might be a dust storm somewhere between here and there that's scrambling the signal, or –"

"Wait a second, go back a little! I think I heard something."

A second later, a fuzzy signal dissipated most of the white noise, occasionally disappearing back into static. "…tention, Eas…uarters…Jadad Cen…tions…se resp…."

Rebecca bounced once in her seat in happy victory, causing Hayate to lift his head from the floor beside her chair. "Yes!" Leaning forward to the microphone, she pushed the button for transmission. "Jadad Central Communications, this is East City Headquarters. We copy, but you've got bad static."

There was a short pause, then, "…opy, East Cit…. you know…ry offic… name…keye?"

She could feel the happy triumph of just seconds before fading into worry. Exchanging a glance with Falman, his own concern writ large on his face, she leaned toward the mic again. "…Yes, we do. We're actually calling to talk to either her or Colonel Mustang." A brief pause. "The phone lines were down; this was our only option."

The pause from the Ishvalan end continued for another moment, before was a crackle louder than others and a new, deeper voice sounded. "…ecca?"

She relaxed slightly, although not much. "Right here, Colonel. Falman, too."

"…ood. Could u… elp." There was another pause, and when he continued, Rebecca suspected it had been because Mustang was taking a calming breath. "Hawk… n't here…. ng happ… took off."

"'Something happened and she took off?'" she repeated softly to herself. Casting a look at Falman, she found him looking back at her with equal puzzlement.

"That's out of character," he said, just as quietly. "Lieutenant Hawkeye never just… 'takes off.'"

Rebecca turned back to the microphone. "Colonel, do you know where she is? We have a message we need to get to her. It's urgent."

"She…mewhere ins…ity… ot sure whe…. ive me… sage, I'll… et it… when… ind her." There followed a moment of hissing static, and then, "…ave mess… too."

Her frown deepened, not understanding the last few words past the obscuring bursts of static and white noise. Either the Colonel had a message as well… or just a mess. With Riza having gone off 'somewhere in the city,' it could be either one. "Go ahead, sir," she said, reaching for the notepad and pencil she had brought with her. "What's your message?"

"…eason t… eve… iller migh… pire. I… eird…est… lanation….… bit Hawk… rned her… too.… ried to… rid of… n't work. She… ent pers… not… at all." He paused for a moment, then added, "With… o far?"

Rebecca looked down at what she had scribbled hastily as he spoke. 'Killer, vampire?, bit Hawkeye, turned?, tried get rid of didn't work, different person.' "I think so. Did you say she's a different person? Not herself at all?"

"…es….off aft…failed… een since….Grumman we're…looking… city… on't think… find unle…want…be fou…."

"Got it." Jotting down the last note, she read it over again. 'Took off after failed' - presumably he meant whatever they had tried to get rid of a vampire curse - 'tell Grumman they're looking, in city, don't think find her unless wants be found.'

"…at's y… age?"

Falman jumped in as Rebecca started writing out her short notes into something more intelligible. "Grumman told everyone about the attack on you in East City," he said, speaking slowly to combat the static. "Fuery figured out the vampire angle as well. The last attack was two days ago –"

The radio spat static, causing him to pause, and Mustang spoke again. "Fue…igur… out?!"

"Yes, sir. And the last attack was at a hospital. The killer stole six bottles of blood and killed two staff members before he escaped." Silence, but for a faint buzzing on the airwaves. "We think he might be –"

"He…ing here."

Falman grimaced; for having been hurled headlong into this – the strangest of strange cases – with little to no warning, he was handling it remarkably well… but his own weariness was wearing on his ability to keep up. "Yes, sir. We think he might be."

There was yet another momentary pause, and when Mustang's voice came back, it was all business. "Than…eads-up.…wha… can… ind Hawkeye…. Get…ssage to…man, check…tonight.… lines down… don't… ike it.…eep search… you know…ind her."

Either the static was clearing a little bit, or Rebecca was beginning to understand static-speak. "We copy. East City out."

Both she and Falman sat back, pulling off headphones and laying them on the desk. Rebecca rubbed a worried hand across her forehead, massaging the beginnings of a headache. "I suppose we ought to call back to Central and bring the others up to speed," she muttered. "Though how we're supposed to present this vampire stuff with a straight face, I don't know."

Falman's usually sober expression was grave. "I believe it," he said quietly. "I fought beside the Homonculus Greed on the Promised Day, and I watched Bradley take apart a tank, Captain Buccaneer, and a Xingese warrior with no more trouble than swatting a determined mosquito. If a being such as that exists, who's to say that vampires can't?"

A chill crept up Rebecca's spine, and she only barely suppressed a shiver. Getting to her feet, she picked up her notepad and started toward the door. "Either way, we have a job to do. Let's just hope we're wrong in thinking the killer could be headed farther east."

CITY OF JADAD, RECONSTRUCTION OUTPOST OFFICE

1015 HOURS, APRIL 23RD

Roy pushed open the door and stepped into the dim, cool interior of the house-turned-office. Barely ten in the morning and already the sun was promising high warmth from a cloudless blue sky. Roy took that as a good sign; maybe such bright sunlight would force Riza to stay put in whatever hiding place she had found.

And maybe it'll prevent the killer from getting here much faster….

Miles looked up as Roy entered, his smile reflexive and not much more. "Did you manage to get through?"

"Barely. The temporary phone lines are down, so we had to rely on radio contact, and the static was pretty strong." He pulled a folded piece of notepaper from its place tucked into the waist sash of his Ishvalan tunic. "This was the message relayed to me through East City, from our new Führer-President."

Frowning studiously, Miles read the shorthand notes out loud as though for clarification. "'Last killer attack negative two d.' Two days ago?" He continued after a confirming nod. "'Stole blood, nothing since. Poss. coming here.'" He grimaced. "And if our vampire angle is correct, that blood will sustain him until he reaches here, and perhaps both him and the Lieutenant when he does."

Roy's stomach flipped sickeningly at the thought of her drinking more blood, this time voluntarily. "I don't think that's our biggest issue at the moment. The fact is that he's probably already on his way and if so, he's likely almost here. Two vampires in a city full of unsuspecting civilians?"

"It will be like letting two wolves into a pen of sheep," Scar put in, descending the stairs from the second floor. "Which leaves us with three options: lie in wait for the killer to arrive and bring him down when he does, find Lieutenant Hawkeye and make sure she can't or doesn't attack anyone, or… find her and wait for the male vampire to turn up and corner them both at once."

The sickening flip subsided to an uneasy rolling. "Use her as bait?"

"In a sense." Red eyes went toward the large map pinned to one wall of the main room. "The trick is finding her."

Mentally ordering his insides to get a hold of themselves, Roy turned toward the map, studying it as he approached. Symbols on a variety of colours covered most of the westward section of the city, next to tiny printed reference numbers beside each building. With more refugees trickling into the city every week, what had begun as a small 40-acre inhabited zone had spread to roughly a quarter of the city have at least some population.

Of course, that still left three quarters unpopulated.

His arms folded loosely across his chest, Roy ignored the habitable zone, and focussed his attention on the areas left free of such markings. "How many locations of significance are there in this open part?"

"Dozens," was Scar's grim answer as he joined him. One large, calloused hand lifted, pointing out different spots. "Temples, marketplaces, schools, a seminary, parks, courthouses…." He frowned. "Although you mentioned she would likely have to avoid religious sites."

Dark eyes scanned the enigmatic clusters of two-dimensional buildings. "I know it's a lot… but would you mind marking those kinds of places off? I don't know if we can figure out exactly what sort of place she would look for… but we should at least try."

Silently, Scar retrieved a marker from Miles' desk, returning to begin tracing the outlines of certain buildings with the red felt tip. Roy studied each one, comparing it to mental criteria and either dismissing it as a choice, or keeping it in mind.

The whole process took nearly half an hour, in which Miles disappeared briefly into the office's small kitchen and returned with small, steaming cups of strong coffee. Even with cream and sugar added to negate the bitterness, Roy was forced to cough in surprise at the first sip.

Getting himself under control, he turned back to the map as Scar took a step back with a satisfied nod. "All right. So if we exclude temples that still gives us…?"

"Fifty-seven possible locations." Scar gave him a sidelong glance. "If you're certain she'll look for a significant and public place."

Roy nodded firmly. "I'm almost positive. It's Sniper 101: get high up with a good vantage point over as wide an area as possible with as little ground cover as possible. That being said, if the building is under two storeys, she'll avoid it."

Miles joined them, holding a clipboard full of building reference numbers. Both he and Scar set to work, checking the heights of red-traced buildings and either putting a red line through them or leaving a red dot in the centre. In the space of ten minutes, all selected sites went from potential to 'probably not' or 'possible.'

Looking over, Miles lifted an eyebrow. "Next?"

Roy had spent the checking period planning the next round of cuts. "Any place surrounded by other buildings or that you know to have more than, say, two windows per wall." He shrugged. "It's a pretty common trope that sun and vampires don't mix well."

Miles nodded as Scar turned back to the map. "I noticed something like that as I was escorting her to the yantir. She seemed… perhaps a little groggy or disoriented, a little bit shaky in the knees. Not quite the dramatic bursting into dust and ash that some legends describe, but I think all of us would rather that didn't happen."

Silently quashing the little flutter of panic in his chest at the thought of that particular possibility, Roy forced a smile. "I think you'd be right. How many possibilities are we down to now?"

Scar was another moment in answering, murmuring when he did. "Twenty-six. Any other thoughts?"

Roy thought for a minute, then said, "Any place with religious significance. Temples and cemeteries, like we said before, but you mentioned a seminary as well?" The other man nodded. "I wouldn't expect her to go to close to that either. Any place for religion or the teaching of religion likely won't feel too welcoming to her."

Those subtractions only took a moment. "Twenty-one left."

"It would be best if we could narrow it down to under ten or just over," Miles said, his eyes on the map. "If we search those locations and don't find her, we can add possible sites back in little by little until we do."

Nodding agreement, Roy ran through the criteria in his head once again, trying to find something he had overlooked, something he may have missed that was preventing the selection from being pared down any farther…. "What about… any places that might see use sooner than the others? Places close to the inhabited zones that are maybe a little better off and might have Reconstruction workers visiting them at any time?"

"Ah." Miles consulted the clipboard list, looking closely at the column that told of a building's current state. "I can see eliminating… perhaps nine such buildings. Leaving us with a total of twelve possibilities farther into the city."

Scar handed him the marker, allowing him to take over crossing out the buildings they no longer needed. "Twelve is more of a workable number than fifty-seven," he agreed. "The temple can lend us some of their apprentices to help with the search."

Roy took a deep breath, still watching the map. Somewhere, in that open section, in one of those red-traced buildings, was Riza. A Riza who needed his help, needed to be found, needed to be brought home…. He just had to find her. "And will it be find-and-detain, or find, observe, and report?"

The two Ishvalan men exchanged a glance. "I think… it will depend on the situation, sir," Miles finally said, his tone careful. "If, when she's found, if they come upon her unnoticed… I would think that all they would need to do is report where she's gone to ground and keep an eye on the place until a new plan is formed." He hesitated briefly. "But, if she attacks outright, then whoever is on the receiving end will have no choice but to defend themselves."

It certainly wasn't the ideal situation, but Roy had a feeling it was going to be the best he could hope for under the current circumstances. "Agreed. Make sure the searchers know, then, that stealth is going to be an asset." The smile he cracked wasn't a full one, but it at least took most of the grimness out of his wry comment of "I'd really rather not have to find a new assistant."

"We'll do what we can, sir," Miles promised.

Scar had already taken a few steps away from the map on the wall toward the low table that served as his desk. Reaching down, he picked up three small packets. "If stealth doesn't work, these may buy time to either get away or prepare a defense." He kept one small canvas pouch for himself, and handed the remaining two to the others. "Based on vampire lore in the Ishvalan archives, these should be enough to at least give one of them pause when attacking."

Roy turned the little bundle over in his hands. "What all is in here, exactly?" The thing didn't have a strong smell, but what little there was was not exactly… appetizing.

"A combination of blessed sand, a holy rune of protection cast in silver, and three flowers of the garlic plant." Scar unwound the long string wrapped around the neck of his pouch, slipping it over his head so that the little bag rested halfway down his chest. "I can't promise it will completely repel a vampire, but they won't be anxious to get near it."

Putting his own pouch — or, protection charm, he supposed — around his neck, Roy glanced down at it once, then looked away. His eyes fell on the map.

"Let's get one of these made up for each member in the search party," he said, "and then get to it. Keep them in pairs, for safety's sake, and make sure they know what to do and what to look for. It's better to do this during daylight, so when there's an hour left until sunset, if we haven't found her, we'll pull them all back and regroup for tomorrow. Fair?"

Scar and Miles nodded grimly, and the curl of worry Roy had felt earlier now settled as a slowly shifting ball of uneasiness in his stomach.

The hunt was on.

[iamvegorott]

A Small Glitch Chapter 9

Broken Hardware

“I want daddy! I want papa!” Annalise screamed as she was carried into Jolene’s house.

“Quit hitting me!” Jolene snapped and dropped Annalise on the couch. “They are not your dads! They’re just a bunch of freaks!” Annalise crawled away from her mother, sitting at the other end of the couch.

“They love me. You don’t.” Annalise stated.

“You’ll forget about them the moment I...seriously, the battery’s dead again?” Jolene huffed when she tried to turn on the television with a remote. “Why is it that every time you’re near something it stops working!?” Jolene snapped, throwing the controller against the couch. Annalise said nothing and curled up. “Look at me when I’m talking to you!” Jolene went over to Annalise.

“Fuck you.” Annalise said, eyes filled with defiance. They quickly filled with tears when Jolene slapped her across the face.

“You do not-” Jolene screamed when a gun went off and a bullet went through the wall next to her head.

“You do not hit children.” Wilford stated as he blew smoke out of the barrel of his gun.

“I’m calling the police!” Jolene took out her phone and whimpered. “Dead…”

“Stache!” Annalise cheered, jumping off of the couch and running over to the madman.

“Annalise!” Jolene tried to grab Annalise’s arm, but Wilford put a hand on her face and shoved her to the ground.

“I would love to fill your body with bullets.” Wilford said as he scooped Annalise up into his arm. “But my friends want to have a word with you.” He chuckled before stepping out.

“Get back here!” Jolene started to get up, but her television suddenly turning on scared her. The screen was a green static, the pieces slowly moving and forming into a hand.

“One, two, I’m coming for you.” A voice sang, the pitches changing as the words came out. “Three, four, you have peace no more.” Jolene stumbled back as the hand pushed through the screen, a clunky green ooze squeezing out with it. “Five, six, I’m not playing tricks.” Another hand started to come out as well. “Seven, eight, today’s the date.” A head pushed through, the face looking down and only allowing Jolene to see the hair. “Nine, ten…” The head shot up, bright green eyes digging holes into Jolene’s soul. “You’ll pray to be dead!” Anti started laughing, his voice coming from all angles of the house. Surround sound, who knew it’d come back to haunt you?

“I knew it, I fucking knew it.” Jolene whispered as Anti pulled himself out all the way. The ooze, which turned out to be a bunch of pixels, traveled up Anti’s legs and wrapped their way down his arms. “I’m-” Jolene’s threat was cut off by Anti flicking hand hands towards her. Two clumps of the pixels shot out and grabbed Jolene’s wrists, holding them together as if they were handcuffs. Two more clumps got her ankles, making Jolene fall to her knees.

“This looks familiar.” Anti sneered, the pixels traveling across his hand and forming a knife. “Oh yes, this is what I looked like when you took my daughter away.” Anti put his foot on Jolene’s chest and kicked her back, pressing it down as he stood over her. “Expect I was fucking crying my eyes out cause some fucking bitch decided that she wanted to be a mother again.” Anti pressed down even harder. “I was begging, pleading, fucking praying that it was all some sick joke as my child was ripped from my arms by complete strangers.” Jolene just groaned in pain as Anti spoke. Anti grabbed Jolene by the front of her shirt and yanked her to her feet. “Let me tell you something about parenthood.” Anti slammed Jolene into a wall, smirking when he heard a light cracking and the woman gasped. “You can’t go back and forth. You can’t be one only when it’s convenient for you. And even when you do choose to be one, you’re fucking shit at it.”

“You’re insane.” Jolene spat.

“Why, thank you.” Anti giggled, now holding the knife against the woman’s throat. “Let me ask you a few more questions. Why is Annalise so scared of the bathroom? Why was her entire body covered in bruises? Why is she scared of the police?” Jolene said nothing and was limiting her breathing, knowing that neck would get cut if she breathed too deeply. “You fucking hurt her. Didn’t you? You hurt an innocent child? Why? How fucking pathetic do you have to be to do that?” Anti ran the knife along Jolene’s neck, smirking a thin line of blood formed as he moved. He began laughing as a high-pitched ringing filled the air. The tone getting louder and louder as everything began to feel as if it was shaking.

“Now, now. We don’t want her dead, dear.” Jolene was still trembling as Dark appeared in the house, calmly strolling over to the two. “She’s just a single mother who wanted her baby back, am I right?” Dark gave a very sympathetic smile as Anti stepped back, giggling a little as he allowed Dark to go between him and Jolene. “It must be so hard, taking care of a child on your own.”

“Y-Yeah…” Jolene felt the ringing slowly go from being around her to inside of her, but she didn’t care, something was making it fine.

“The man of your dreams ran off with another woman. He left you with a child to raise. He left you behind.” Dark placed a gentle hand on Jolene’s shoulder, a rush filling him when he saw a light blush creep on Jolene’s cheeks. “You feel good, correct?” Dark started to massage Jolene’s shoulder. “You feel protected, warm, safe.” Jolene nodded her head, her breathing deepening. Dark smirk before suddenly taking his hand back and striking Jolene across the face. He then took her by the throat and threw her across the room. “It hurts, doesn’t it?” Dark spoke harshly as he stalked towards Jolene, who was struggling to get away. “To feel as if someone, someone close actually cares for you. That they want the best for you. That you’re safe with them and then for them to hurt you and toss you aside like your nothing…” Dark grabbed Jolene’s ankle and yanked her towards him, putting her between his legs while he glared down at her. “Helpless. Helpless against the one causing you pain. It’s terrifying, isn’t it? To look up at someone who could kill you with a simple flick of their wrist.” Dark snapped his finger and Jolene screamed when there were hands on her ankles again and she was dragged away.

“Viana’s the one who’s to blame!” Jolene yelled as she was thrown into a chair.

“How’s that?” Dark asked as Anti used his pixels to tie Jolene to the chair.

“She’s the one who came into your home. She’s the one who ordered Annalise’s removal.” Jolene tried to struggle against her restraints.

“Viana’s not a bitch like you.” Anti growled.

“She called us and explained everything. How you demanded to be given your child right then and there. You threatened her job. The job she needs to feed her child.” Dark took a seat, crossing his legs and smirking as he spoke. “Viana’s in the same boat as you, her husband left her as well and left little Kenzie with her. Kenzie’s a sweet little girl, the same age as Annalise, actually. They’ve been on a few play-dates and unlike you. Viana’s a great mother.” Jolene flinched when she saw a knife in the corner of her eyes.

“Give me one fucking reason why I shouldn’t cut you open and decorate your house with your organs.” Anti said, touching the tip of the knife on Jolene’s cheek. “I’m very creative. I’d love to make this house even more of a hellhole by using the parts of the one who made it into a nightmare for a little girl.”

“Don’t hold back, I’ll be sure to put everything back together and make it look like a suicide.” Dark pulled out a folded sheet of paper out of his jacket. “I even have the note here and signed.”

“W-Wait.” Jolene stuttered as the knife traveled down her face. “Please…” Anti threw the knife aside and grabbed Jolene, pulling her close.

“Your fucking begging. You’re fucking begging for your life.” Anti said through gritted teeth as the pixels started to squeeze Jolene. “You don’t want your life taken away. I didn’t want my daughter taken away.” Jolene gasped for air as her very soul was being sucked out of her body. Her vision was beginning to blur. She was in agony. “You fucked up when you messed with demons.” Jolene started to cry when everything was forcefully shoved back into her as she was released.

“Fuck...fuck…” She sobbed. “Take her, just take her.”

“What was that?” Dark chuckled from his seat.

“Just take her!” Jolene screamed. “I just wanted her for money! Take her! Take-” Jolene was stopped by Anti punching her. She didn’t even get a moment to breathe before Anti punched her again.

“You’re. Fucking. Pathetic!” Anti cried as he kept going, each swing getting more and more sporadic as he lost control. He was still screaming insults as Dark wrapped his arms around him, hugging the virus’ arms to his sides.

“Hush, hush, it’s okay, it’s okay.” Dark whispered.

“Daddy!” Annalise squealed as she ran into the room.

“Ann!” Anti ran as well and lifted Annalise up, hugging her tightly. “My little girl!”

“Papa!” Annalise held her arms out towards Dark and the demon took her, hugging her as well.

“I’m guessing she’s yours again?” Wilford chuckled as he walked. “I-” Wilford made a face and pointed behind Dark and Anti.

“You’re monsters.” Jolene stated, aiming a gun towards them and blood dripping down her face. “Annalise is going to end up getting killed because of you. You’re a bunch of heartless creatures.”

“You wanna have a gun-off?” Wilford laughed, taking out his own gun. “It’s nice to know I’m not the only one who hides firearms in their home.”

“No...no…” Annalise said as Dark sat her behind him.

“Stay here.” Dark said. “Do you really think a gun-”

“No!” Annalise pushed her way past Dark.

“Annalise!”

“No! No! No! No!” Annalise screamed, her body twitching.

“Wait, she’s…” Dark looked at Anti.

“She’s glitching.” Anti watched as pixels began forming in the air.

“Stop! Stop or I’ll shoot!” Jolene threatened, pointing the gun at Anti.

“It’s not me.” Anti stated as the pixels began to gather.

“And I don’t use pixels.” Dark added.

“I have a gun.” Wilford shrugged.

“I don’t like! I don’t!” Annalise cried, the pixels becoming a large butterfly. “Go away!” She screamed as the butterfly flew at Jolene.

“What the fuck!?” Jolene fired several rounds into the butterfly before she was engulfed by it. There was stunned silence as the butterfly faded away, Jolene now gone.

“Mommy time-out.” Annalise stated, sniffing as tears flooded down her face.

“So...was there something you didn’t tell us Anti?” Wilford asked while Dark scooped Annalise up, trying to soothe her.

“I...I have no idea.” Anti admitted. “I swear I thought she was human.”

“Is this why my phone dies every time I’m at your place?” Wiford took out his phone, seeing that it was indeed dead. “Rude.”

“Dark’s has been dying a lot too, we thought we just needed to get him a new phone.” Anti took his out when it started to ring. “Hey, Google.” He said when he answered it. Anti nodded his head and put the phone on speaker.

“I’ve found a solution to your case. Alexander is the father of Annalise which means there’s a conflict of interest and his ruling cannot stand.” Google said.

“We don’t need to worry about Jolene. She’s kind of...gone.” Anti said.

“You two could not wait ten minutes!? Dark should have known this before I looked it up!” Google snapped.

“It didn’t register until we were already on our way over.” Dark shrugged.

“So, you killed her?” Google said the question like a statement.

“Not us.” Dark said.

“Wilford?”

“Not me.” Wilford chuckled.

“Then who did it?” Google sighed.

“Annalise.” Dark answered. Google said nothing, telling them that he was stunned.

“How?” Google asked.

“She’s like me.” Anti said. “She’s a virus.”

Tag List: @readeatfightlove13 @kenzie-110101

[demon-animatronic]

BATIM Fanfic: A Different Tune AU - Chapter 1

Back again with another BATIM fic! Here's hoping i'll actually update this one! 

Note: This AU takes place in present day. Everything went down in the 50s at the very latest. So it's roughly 60 years later. All OCS are minor and will never be seen again except the main one. Thought Sammy needed some love and thought it'll be interesting to see his reaction to things like cellphones, MP3s, etc. Maybe Boris will learn about them too. No Henry since he would likely be very old or very dead by this point. But his recordings will probably still be added.

Full Summary:

It’s 2017 and Dani had gone to the studio with three of her friends. Unfortunately while they escaped, she fell through the floor and that was only the beginning.

Now she’s trying to find her way out, fighting ink monsters, and just struggling to stay alive. All the while, praying that she would suddenly get service and call for help since her friends obviously wasn’t going to.The deeper she goes, the more she learns about it’s dark secrets and past. Even befriending the wolf himself and maybe even the corrupted man that tried to kill her.

Dani only has two goals in mind: Save Boris and get the Hell out of the studio. However, things get tougher when Sammy decides he wants to keep his new friend forever and going as far as to hurt her. But at the same time, asking questions about life in 2017 to get her attention off of Boris, whom Alice had kidnapped. Then there was steering clear of the ink demon too. He was still wandering around.

CHARACTERS: Dani (OC), Bendy, Sammy Lawrence, Boris the Wolf, Alice Angel, Butcher Gang, Projectionist, and all the recordings.

RATED: T For swearing and anything else I’ll likely add as a warning in the beginning of the chapter (Though I doubt it’ll be anything more than that tbh) 

WARNINGS: None. 

Enjoy!

A Different Tune AU

Chapter 1 -

Dani stepped out of the impala with three others. They had heard about an old, abandoned studio that was said to be cursed or haunted. Of course, being the dumb young adults and college kids that they were, they decided to check it out. And when is better than Halloween?

"Shit." The other female in the group cursed.

"What?" James asked, turning towards her.

"There's no service here! And I doubt this place has wifi!" Bella whined.

"Of course it wouldn't." Dani rolled her eyes. "It's an old building that's been abandoned for like 50 years or something."

"Are we even sure that it's safe?" Bella asked.

"Doubt it but it'll make things all the more fun!" Dani giggled, heading up the stairs and to the door.

"We'll just go in, check the place out, then leave." Mark said, trying the door and being genuinely surprised that it was unlocked.

"Huh. Thought we would've had to break in." James laughed. "Well, our lives just got easier."

"This is so creepy…" Bella muttered as they walked down the short hall, looking at the posters and the projector pointed towards the wall. "And why is that thing on? Are you sure we're alone?"

"Who else would be here?" James asked, a bit unsure himself. "Though it is odd that the place seems to have power. I honestly thought we'd have to use our phones."

"Good question." Dani said, "Let's hope we don't meet them. And hey, at least our phones' battery is safe." She then turned off the projector.

"Nothing down this way." Mark said coming from the left. "Just a old desk and some stairs but it doesn't look like there's much up there."

"Then let's go down there." Dani said, pointing to the other hall.

"You first." Bella said, motioning her to go forward.

Dani looked down that way, back to Bella, then back to the hall before shrugging. Trying to keep her cool and not further freak her friend out by being freaked out herself. Though she'd being lying if she said she wasn't very scared.

DREAMS COME TRUE

"W-What is that?" Bella asked, pointing to the wall.

Slowly, Dani walked up to it and put her finger on one of the letters.

"Looks to be some old fashioned ink." She replied. "It's not wet though."

"So it's been here for a while." James added.

"That's a relief." Mark said and already headed down the dark hallway.

As they walked down the hall, they looked up and saw the Ink Machine sign. Curious, they stepped into the room.

"Looks like it needs to be turned on somehow." Mark said, walking up to it.

"Please tell me we aren't going to…" Bella trailed off and Dani gave her a small nod. "What- WHY!?"

"Why not?" She shrugged, heading down the other hallway. "Geez this place is big."

"Why don't we, and I know this might be stupid, but split up? We'll get out of here a lot faster." James suggested.

"Fine." Mark said. "Dani and I will go to the right and you two to the left."

"Deal." James nodded and headed down that right with Bella.

"So… are we going to turn it on?" Dani asked once they were out of earshot.

"Sure. I'm really interested in seeing how it works." Mark said, looking at the cardboard cut out as they walked passed it.

"Oh…my…." Dani couldn't get the last word out as she looked down towards the left and saw a figure on a operating table of sorts.

Without her permission, her feet led her down towards it, mouth open from pure shock and fear. Strangely, she was also a bit curious. Looking at the closest poster, she could tell that the figure was Boris the Wolf.

"That's…odd…" Mark said, unable to find words to describe the situation in front of them.

"Let's… not bring Bella down here. She'll probably scream so loud that the whole city will hear." Dani said and Mark nodded next to her.

"Poor guy though. Who could've done this? Hell, how is he real?" Mark said, trying to figure out how this is possible.

"I don't think I want to know. Let's just turn on the machine and get the Hell out of here." Dani said, knowing that not even a dead cartoon wolf would get Mark out since he is dead set on turning the machine on.

"Agreed." Mark said, quickly heading down the other direction. "Ah this must be how we do it."

"Looks like we need some items maybe?" Dani said, looking at the pictures in the room behind the pedestals.

Once Mark typed the different objects down in his phone, they decided to hurry back to the other two before they could see Boris.

"Hey. We figured out how to turn on the machine." Dani said, meeting them half way."

"We think we did too. We found a flow machine that probably needs to be turned on and this old recording of some guy named Wally Franks." James said. "He mentioned these pedestals and having to donate a object for it."

"How do you know that's his name?" Mark asked.

"His name was on the back." James replied.

"Ah. Well, we found the pedestals and have a list of objects we need to find for them." Mark continued. "Why don't you guys look for the plushie, a book, and a cogwheel?"

"I think I saw that wench we need down that way." Dani said, pointing behind them. "We'll grab that, something music related, and the inkwell."

"Okay." Bella said, wanting to get out of there soon. Kind of like the Wally guy from the recording.

About 20 minutes later, everything was on it's pedestals and unfortunately Bella did see Boris. And she did scream. James was surprised that she didn't wake up all the possible ghosts in the building with how loud she screamed and cried.

"There now-" Mark was cut off.

"I'll run down and tell them that we need to start the flow. I tried texting them but it didn't go through. No service and all." Dani said.

"Okay. Come back once it's started." Mark nodded as she walked away.

A minute later, Dani was standing outside of the room.

"Let's start this ink flow." Dani said as she stood in the doorway, seeing Bella still scared. "You still freaked out?"

"That cardboard thing moved on our way back down!" Bella said, pointing her direction, making Dani turn to her right. "Seriously, these characters are so creepy! Who could've liked them!?"

"Excluding the dead wolf, I personally think they are adorable. I mean, it's not like Boris was dead and had his insides ripped out in the old cartoons, right? Besides, this place is supposedly haunted." Dani said. "Come on, we'll turn the ink machine on and then leave."

"You guys check it out! I'm waiting outside!" Bella said, pushing past her.

James pressed the button and both jumped back when ink started pouring out and flooded the room. Once he was out, he told Dani he'll wait outside too and so Dani went back to Mark alone.

Mark then pulled the pump once he saw her and the duo headed to the Ink Machine, surprised to see it boarded up.

"It wasn't like that before… and the other two couldn't of done it…" Dani said, staying back as Mark slowly crept forwards.

"That's so-" Mark screamed and fell backwards as a gloved hand reached out and a black and white face smiled with a huge grin at them before sinking back down into the ink.

"Okay! We really need to go!" Dani said, noticing the whole floor was flooding with ink now.

Mark didn't argue as the two turned to run out of the building. Fortunately they remembered how to get out but Mark was a few feet ahead of her and ran out of the door, accidentally shutting it behind him.

As Dani ran down the short hall, sliding in ink as she did, she was just a few feet from the door before she realized she didn't feel anything below her feet anymore.

"Huh?" Dani then let out a startled yelp as she fell through the floor and down a few levels. "Ow!" She whined once she hit the floor and quickly tried to move so the ink wouldn't completely rain down on her.

Hustling over to a corner, she turned the valve and watched the ink drain. She then looked at herself and cursed, hoping she could get the ink out of her hair.

With her legs still wobbly, she looked up and saw that… thing. Wasn't jumping down after her. Getting her phone out, she tried to tell the others what happened and to get help but all she got was error messages.

"Dammit." She muttered and saw a tape recording. "Hm?"

Slowly, she walked over to it, trying to calm herself down. Picking it up and turning it over, she saw the name Thomas Conner on the back.

"What do you have to say?" She mumbled before pressing play.

"It's dark and it's cold and it's stuck in behind every single wall now. In some places, I swear this godforsaken ink is clear up to my knees! Who ever thought that these crummy pipes could hold up under this kind of strain either knows something about pressure I don't, or he's some kind of idiot. But the real worst part about all this.. are them noises the system makes. Like a dying dog on its last legs. Make no mistake, this place... this... machine... heck, this whole darn thing... it just isn't natural. You can bet, I won't be doing any more repair jobs for Mister Joey Drew."

"Ha…" Dani laughed sarcastically. "So the ink was causing all sorts of problems back in the day?"

She set the recording down and decided to head through the door since she wasn't going to get back up the way she came.

As she walked down the stairs, she continued to turn the valves in the corners and drain the ink, grimacing from being covered in it.

She walked through the next door and saw the following one was boarded up so we grabbed the nearby ax and started chopping her way through, feeling lucky to have a burst of energy after whatever she encountered upstairs.

By the door on the wall, was another writing in ink.

THE CREATOR LIED TO US

"What the Hell? What did you do, Joey Drew? And what even was that thing? …Bendy? It looked like him… a demented version that is…" She muttered as she walked through the door and down the hall.

She did the same thing and opened the door, surprised to see a pentagram on the floor, candles, and coffins.

"Okay…" She muttered, slowly stepping inside. "What the- urg!"

Dani collapsed to the ground, dropping the ax after getting hit on the head with something. She barely had the strength to get up, whatever energy she had completely disappearing. Slowly, she closed her eyes as everything went black. However, she did feel someone pick her up and set her down not even a foot away.

Meanwhile, Mark yelled for James to start the car as he quickly got in and told him to drive.

"Where's Dani?" James asked.

"Shit! The monster must of got her!" Mark said, "We have to go to the police about this!"

"Monster!?" Bella sobbed.

"What? No! We'd be in a lot of trouble. Plus, do you think they'll believe you about a monster?" James said, "Maybe….maybe she is okay. Let's give her a day to come back."

"…Alright…" Mark huffed, knowing the police wouldn't consider her missing for 24 hours anyway and knew they wouldn't be believed about that monster either. "I just hope she's okay."

Quickly, the three pulled away. Once they had service again, they tried to text and call but unfortunately, she didn't receive anything. Even if she did, she wouldn't be able to respond without getting error messages.

First three or four chapters will kind of be like the game with some stuff possibly added in btw.

[serialmuse]

Crane Private Practice : Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters or this universe. This work can be taken down at any time. I’m taking some liberties here. Just telling a cool story with cool people. ** Giving props to the source material for this amazing version of The Scarecrow Go check them out , you will not regret it : http://drjonathancranemd.tumblr.com/

Also , there is some music featured in this chapter. If you want a truly amazing listening experience , click the link before you begin the chapter. It’s worth it.

Take note dear readers that whenever music is featured , it is very important. Something very crucial to the plot is happening. Nina’s music is always very spiritual and soulful and this part of her is very vital to our story. Enjoy.

Happy Reading <3

As Nina drove to Crane's practice the next morning , she had so many questions in her head. She ran the Mana through a  battery of tests and it just drew more questions than it answered. She yawned a little when she pulled in. She had been up late investigating the supernatural substance. She wore her white coat today which had " Dr.Nina Skorzeny MD-PHD" stitched in black above the breast  pocket. Her coat reached her mid-thigh. Her coat was not as long as Crane's , his was to his knees. In the world of medicine , your coat length says volumes about where you have been , and how much experience you have. In this case , Crane had more than she did. She walked in through the front door to find him painting over the bullet holes from last night's mysterious attack. His shaggy , unkempt rusty brown hair looked like copper when the sun hit it from behind. "..Good Morning" she said sitting at the table. From where he was sitting , Nina could see the edges of the scar over his left eye. "Mornin' " he said , finishing the last of the painting. "Can I , make you some coffee , Dr.Crane? " she asked. He inhales sharply and rubbed his nose from the smell of the paint. "...Yeah , you can. You can get me a pack of ciggarettes too. " he said standing to slip his white coat back on.

"...So,I was thinking ,maybe we could go back out to the pentagram..to see if it was burned into the ground or- " " No , Dr.Skorzeny  ,We have patients today, we have patients tomorrow , and we have patients for about the next 20 years ,and then we die. We're medical doctors - not Scooby and The Gang." he said , taking the pack of cigarettes from her when she gave them to him . " Careful , you're starting to sound like the Dad from Footloose.." she said , moving over to the coffee pot to fill it up with grounds and water.

"I never saw that , so your insult has no clout." he said in the typical deadpan fashion  , lighting a cigarette up. " Haven't you ever wanted to know about what could be out there in the world? " she asked. "...I know what's out there." "and it's nothing to fear." he said , inhaling in his cigarette , the end of it glowing bright like the sun that beamed down on them. She turned the switch on and looked back at him. "...Weird -but , okay. " she drifted over to sit across from him. Nina looked at him. "You've never questioned , that there could be things out there? Things that are scary and unknown? " she asked. He raised a brow. Then furrowed it.  " I thought I told you , we're not going to be friends , we are colleagues and that is a stretch." he said.

" Jonathan!" a rather , loud and perky voice rang out into the kitchen. " Oh dear Jesus , not now. " Crane said , wiping a weathered hand over his face. " Jonathan , If you think I'm going to let you put Dent in front of my appoin-. Well ,Hello. " Nina looked at the source of the voice. Edward Nygma. She recognized him from his mugshots in the paper. " Hello. " she said , looking at him then she looked to Crane. Crane just sat there with his hand over his face. Not wanting to deal with both of them so early in the morning. " And who is this , Jonathan? Did you finally get a nurse like I suggested? " Nygma said , putting his hands on his hips shooting a look to Nina. " I am a medical doctor. " she said , sternly. Narrowing her eyes before putting her glasses on. " Edward , this is Dr.Skorzeny. My new partner. " he said , lightly motioning to her. " Good call on getting one that's easy on the eyes , Jonny. I imagine Jervis would like her in particularly. " Nygma grinned and chuckled like a 16 year old high school student that was trying to prove something of himself. " Jervis does not need a female psychiatrist. He will stay with me. " Crane said , moving to stand to walk over to the coffee pot to pour a cup. " Last thing I need is to file an incident report , violate all kinds of HIPPA , turn my practice into a lawsuit store..." he said to himself , muttering. " And why would he like me so much , Mr.Nygma? " Nina asked , turning to the gray uniformed prisoner , seeing his police escort sitting outside , just like Crane had said they would. Nygma strolled over to her and flicked her short blonde locks. "...Your hair needs cutting.." he said sneering.   " Oooh. Right , The Mad Hatter. " she said , still sitting. Him being so close to her did'nt bother her.  She did however scoot away when he kept staring at her and not leaving her side. " Nygma , leave her alone. It's time for our session anyway. " Nygma stood up , still lookingdown at her.

"What's the difference between a ghost and a butcher? " Nygma asked. Crane yanked his sleeve and dragged him to the other end of the house. They squabbled then entire way.

" Like an old married couple. " she said to herself. The phone rang.

" I got it! " she yelled out , before picking up the black , rotator dial phone. " Crane Private Practice , This is Doctor Skorzeny. " she said. " Dr.Skorzeny. This is Dr.Jeremiah Arkham. Ramona Falcone will need to reschedule her appointment with you , she's caught the flu that's going around up here and won't be able to come in today. " Nina nodded. " That's fine Dr.Arkham. She can just come in same time next week. " she said , leaning against the kitchen countertop. " I'll leave you to refill her medication then. " she said , looking out at the field. Realizing she had time to go back to the clearing. "Exuse me , Dr.Arkham but I need to go. " she said , hanging up the phone. " But w-wait , Dr.Skorze-" she slipped down her white coat and hung it on the back of the chair she sat on before. She was wearing another black dress , with a mandarin collar this time. Flat black stilettos and two turquoise bangles.

Musical Interlude

She grabbed her phone and looked to the hallway that lead to the living room. The coast was clear. She quietly stepped out of the kitchen door and made a b-line for the wheat. Flashes of a memory briefly swooshed through Nina's head. For a brief moment , she saw herself as 8 years old again. The fully grown woman no longer there , but a little brown haired , pigtailed girl in a white and navy blue school uniform shuffled through the wheat. Why is that whenever she was here she felt like a child? Like she was being watched , like she was in trouble constantly. " I need to know , I need to know if this is what I think it is. " she  thought to herself. She fought her way through the wheat. Coming up to the clearing. She stepped out , she had to remind herself that she was an adult now. Her eyes widened at the sight. Nina ran a hand through her hair , nervously. " Oh my God. " Nina brought up her phone to take a picture with it's camera.

SNAP.

[lashton-attraction]

Rogue

Pairing: Kim Hanbin/Kim Jiwon (Double b)

Fandom: iKON

Words: 10.5k

Warnings: Language

Summary:  Hanbin is handed the task of interviewing the serial killer Bobby, but things don't go as planned when there's a little girl's life on stake and Hanbin is forced to take risks to save her life, even if it's illegal. And how can Hanbin explain the growing attraction towards the serial killer, shouldn't he be disgusted with his actions?

Notes: I’m not into kpop or anything, I just wrote this for my sister who is into iKON. Also, it’s published in ao3 and Wattpad

Rogue

It was stupid how cliché it started when Hanbin thought of it. Really cliché actually. It started all a rainy day in Los Angeles, the city of angels as it was called. Though Hanbin wouldn’t really call it that. Maybe because his work didn’t allow him to believe in angels? He had seen too much evil to believe in the greater good. What Hanbin believed in was humans, and how fucked up some could turn out with just the wrong influences. He, himself, being a victim to exactly this. It was all Jiwon’s fault, really. Not that Hanbin would even change something even if he could.

“So, Kim Hanbin,” the police officer smacked a yellow file with his name on it in the table, to look intimidating. Hanbin had to scoff ever so slightly, this was the exact tricks the FBI taught sheriffs across the country. Hanbin should know, he used to be one of them. The balding sheriff held pride in being a police officer when Hanbin himself was an ex-FBI agent. As if it really mattered. It didn’t. It didn’t matter if Hanbin was guilty or not. They’d get away either way.

“Where is he?” the balding man asked, and Hanbin tried to decide whether he was going to play dumb or arrogant. The dark-haired male decided that being dumb was more fun than arrogant. Playing arrogant would mean that Hanbin would have to answer shortly and use his body language a lot. Body language revealed too much, Hanbin had taken classes upon classes on body language just so he could read a person he was interviewing.

“Who?” Hanbin asked, but the smile gave it away that he knew exactly who they spoke about. They spoke about Jiwon. Who else?

“Your stupid companion, of course!” the man exclaimed, and Hanbin prided himself by knowing he was a far better policeman than this man across him ever would be. “Kim Jiwon,” the man said to make sure there was no doubt who he was talking about.

“How should I know? I’m not his nanny,” Hanbin answered, and though it was a truth Hanbin wasn’t Jiwon’s nanny, it sure did feel like he was it sometimes. Were they dating or was Hanbin a protective parent for the older male? Sometimes even Hanbin wasn’t sure. (Jiwon always was though, and always made sure to show Hanbin how much Hanbin meant to him.)

The police sheriff only sighed and left the room. He probably needed some coffee and a break from a twenty-three-year-old smarter than himself. The sheriff slammed the door on his way out, taking his file with him. Not surprising though, Hanbin only guessed that most of the file was just complete rubbish. Just filled with blank papers to make it look thicker. Hanbin used to have a clean record. It was a necessity to become an FBI agent. Last time Hanbin had been in an integration room had been weeks ago. That time Hanbin had been on the other side of the table. He had been the one asking the questions, not the one answering them as he was now.

It had been that cliché rainy day in Los Angeles, where the day started shit and nothing throughout the day made the shitty day better. Hanbin could still remember the awful coffee he had had that day just because the coffee machine refused to cooperate, and how he’d been surprised by the heavy rain. Hanbin, usually, enjoyed a calm morning walk and tried to go to work if he could. Nothing was like a calm refreshing morning walk to clear his head. That day he had decided it would probably better his mood if he walked to work.

Until he had been caught by the awful rain and was soaked through his suit. His expensive, Italian suit mind you. In only a matter of minutes. Hanbin didn’t usually hate the rain, but that day he’d been unprepared for it. So, it had bothered him more than it normally would. Hanbin wouldn’t have been so grumpy about it if it had brought an umbrella. Hanbin wasn’t an idiot – far from it really – and he’d checked the weather forecast before he’d stepped a foot of his apartment. However, the site had straight out lied to him. Cloudy with the hint of sun his ass.

When Hanbin arrived at the bureau he was slightly pissed off and soaked to the bone. If Hanbin had tried he could probably squeeze water out of his underwear – not that he was going to. Because that involved taking it off. There was no relief in knowing that the shitty coffee they served here was worse than what he had had that morning – but he would still drink it. While making small puddles all over the place. At least the coffee would be warm.

“You look awful,” was the first thing Hanbin heard when he left the elevator. It was his dear colleague Junhoe who said the pretty compliment, and Hanbin only sighed.

“Really? Cause I thought I was especially stunning this morning,” he replied back in a sharp tone, only making his colleague roll his eyes.

“You’re in great need of coffee,” was all he heard from Junhoe said back, and Hanbin smiled slightly. Despite feeling the cold water dripping down his legs. It was funny how Junhoe could read him so easily, maybe because the man too had taken courses upon courses to study behaviour and body language. Or because it was a known fact that Hanbin without coffee was a bad match.

“You can borrow an extra shirt from me, it’s in my locker. But I can’t help you with the pants,” Junhoe said before shooing Hanbin away. “Be quick! You have to interview Bobby in five!” Junhoe shouted after him.

Hanbin stopped dead in his tracks before turning to Junhoe, “wait. They caught him?” Hanbin was surprised Junhoe hadn’t told him right away. “Bobby” was the name the press had given the serial killer that had been on the loose in California lately. It was the only reason Hanbin was down here, to catch a killer. The brunet was slightly disappointed the killer had been caught when he’d been off work, but there was nothing he could do about it. At least they had him in custody. Hanbin still got to interview him – being the best interviewer on the team.

The young adult would’ve liked to see the arrest, maybe even be the one doing the arrest. However, his boss, Hughes, had literally forced Hanbin home to get some sleep. Not surprising though, Hanbin had been on his third day without sleep and claimed that as long he had more coffee than blood in his veins, he’d been fine. Hughes was not impressed, to say the least.

“Didn’t you get my text?” Junhoe asked, and Hanbin only shook his head as an answer. He hadn’t been able to check his phone yet, cause the fucker ran out of battery right before it started pouring – and Hanbin happened to forget his charger at home. The world was truly smiling down on him today.

“No,” Hanbin answered, though it was more of a sigh. He proceeded with raising his phone and press the home screen to show how his phone was out of battery. Junhoe answered with laughter, and Hanbin sighed once again. Was it fair that Junhoe got to laugh off his pain?

“Hand it over, you can borrow my charger,” Junhoe said, and Hanbin gave him his phone before walking over to the men’s wardrobe. Hanbin quickly changed out of his wet shirt and into Junhoe’s dry one. His blue dress jacket with white stripes was too wet to wear, and it would only make the dry shirt wet. His blue pants with white stripes, equal to his jacket, was, however, the only pair he had. Hanbin had no other choice but wear them. Not that it really mattered if he had another pair for change, the interview was soon, and Hanbin didn’t have the time change his pants even if he could.

Hanbin was many things, but late was not one of them.

He stepped out of the wardrobe and met Junhoe on his way to see Hughes. The black-haired handed him a cup of coffee, warm coffee, and Hanbin accepted it gratefully. He did, however, only get to take a few sips of the hot beverage before Hughes had walked up to him, not looking too impressed. Hanbin didn’t blame him, his pants were wet along with his hair, but what could he do? Unless Hughes wanted to switch clothes Hanbin was stuck wearing his wet clothes, with a dry, borrowed shirt.

“Good morning,” Hanbin said, and tried to pretend that this was unlike any other mornings. Him with a cup of coffee ready to work – that part wasn’t untrue, but still something felt off. Maybe it was because Hanbin was shivering from his cold pants?

“You’re late, Kim,” Hughes answered instead, and Hanbin counted himself lucky that the wet pants were uncommented. Better that way anyway. Junhoe was probably dying to joke about how Hanbin had peed his pant – and he probably would say something about it hadn’t they been in front of their boss.

“I’m on time?” Hanbin said unsure, now he didn’t have a clock nearby to confirm this, but he was pretty sure, he wasn’t late. “What’s the rush anyway? Bobby’s not going anywhere.” It was meant as a joke, a small light-hearted joke before Hanbin was sent into an interrogation with “Bobby”, but the serious look from Hughes ended Hanbin’s chuckle before it even started.

“There’s a girl-...” Junhoe began and hoped for Hanbin to catch what he meant, but Hanbin only narrowed his eyes not quite understanding where Junhoe was going. “She’s only, what seven or eight, and Bobby has admitted to taking her, but she doesn’t have long. She’s alive for now, but we need a location.”

“That doesn’t make sense? She’s not his victim type at all, he goes for males in their early 20s,” Hanbin said, trying to make sense of it all. “Besides, he doesn’t kidnap, he’s a murderer.”

“It’s personal,” Hughes said, while Hanbin lowly cursed. Cases were always so much harder when things got personal because the killer had a twisted way of justifying their actions. “We checked up on her, and he used to date her dad.” He handed Hanbin a file, and Hanbin only sighed. Fuck, this case was getting harder to crack than he first had thought. Now he was on a tight schedule, and he knew the supervisors from Washington D.C would press him to work double just to get the little girl. It was a priority.

How would it look like if the FBI let a girl die? Hanbin didn’t want to know. All he knew was that needed to find that girl.

“Do we know how much time we got?” Hanbin asked quirked a brow, Junhoe slightly shook his head. Hughes, however, just made his lips create a thin white line. A gesture to sign he didn’t want to talk about it. They’d been here all night and they still hadn’t gotten anything out of Bobby. Expect what he wanted them to know. That’s why Hanbin was here.

“He just says she has little time,” Junhoe answered when Hughes didn’t, and Hanbin nodded as an answer. Unsure what else to say, it’s not like he could blame them. The only thing he could do was hope that he could do a better job. He left them without as much as a goodbye sensing the conversation was over and headed over to interrogation room. He could already see through the one-sided window the Asian male chained to the table. Hanbin prided himself knowing the male was Asian. He’d been right.

When Hanbin had studied “Bobby’s” victimology he’d seen that most of his victims were Asian. It was natural to attack your own race. Bobby’s victims told Hanbin that Bobby was likely to be Asian himself. The man chained to the table was in his twenties and Asian. Just as Hanbin had foreseen not guessed.

The grin only grew bigger when Hanbin noticed other traits he’d been right about. He’d been correct about how Bobby was a male in his mid-twenties to early-thirties. Not to mention the most important part, he was attractive. How else would he be able to lure in countless victims, even if the victims knew the danger of a serial killer on the loose? And the internalized saying you shouldn’t get into a stranger’s car.

Now, why would victims continue to do this even if it was foolish? The killer was a smooth talker, oh for sure. Hanbin knew this despite not speaking a word to him, but he had to be attractive. Smooth talk only got you part of the way, the rest was being attractive. Attractive people earned your trust a lot easier than ugly people. The sad truth. (Not that Hanbin could really relate, his job earned him trust immediately, besides he knew he was fairly good looking.)

The black-haired male didn’t dwell outside the window, he had a girl to save. He could almost feel Hughes breathing down his neck despite the fact that Hanbin hadn’t started the interview. Hanbin walked directly into the room, not bringing anything with him except for a file about Bobby. Bobby was too smart and would see through any foolish act Hanbin would try to pull. To outsmart Bobby, or Kim Jiwon as the file he’d scanned had told him, he’d have to lay low. Make Bobby believe he was smarter than Hanbin. Just slightly give into the older males believes, he wouldn’t see Hanbin taking him down. To busy priding himself with his intellect – well, so was the plan.

Bobby didn’t respond unless the small grunt that escaped his lips counted as a reply. “May I sit? My name’s Kim Hanbin, I’ll do a quick interview with you, if it’s alright with you, Mr Kim?” Hanbin proceeded to ask but refused to call the male in front of him Bobby. It would only fuel the fire. Hanbin knew the man was proud of his work and what he had achieved, calling him that name would prove that. Hanbin would not help Kim Jiwon remember of crimes he took great pleasure in.

“You’re gonna sit either way to ‘establish dominance’,” the killer replied with a dark, husky voice. It was so raw and darker than Hanbin had expected, it surprised him. In a way, it reminded Hanbin of raw oil, so raw and natural, thick yet slick.

“Actually, I was just trying to be polite,” Hanbin said and dared to smile to some extent. His brown eyes noticed how Bobby licked his lips ever so slightly, but Hanbin showed no reaction to it.

However, it was at this very moment, Hanbin realised something he should’ve realised much earlier. He was Bobby’s goddamn type. He was an Asian male, in his early twenties, male and fairly good looking. Hughes had known this when he’d sent Hanbin in, and the black-haired male had only realised too late. Maybe Hanbin would’ve noticed if he hadn’t had such an awful morning?

“The FBI’s never polite,” Bobby said and clicked his tongue in annoyance. Probably a habit.

“Well, I am,” Hanbin replied and sat down, and put the papers in front of himself, even though he needed them. It was just for reassurance, so didn’t have to look at Bobby the entire time. “So, Mr Kim, would it be alright if I asked you some questions?”

“Do I have a choice?” his head shifted, and the blond parts of his hair revealed an eyebrow piercing Hanbin hadn’t noticed before.

“You do have the right to a lawyer,” Hanbin explained. “Have someone read your rights to you?”

“They have,” Bobby answered, but didn’t say anything else than that.

“So, do you want a lawyer?”

“Lawyer’s no fun,” Bobby answered, and followed up with a sick grin. If Hanbin wasn’t used to this kind of behaviour from this work, he’d be scared shitless. But he wasn’t, so he continued the interview as he’d never seen the psychopath smile.

“Then you don’t mind me asking some questions?” Hanbin asked to get some kind of declaration from the male on the opposite side of the table. The Asian male didn’t answer in words, he only made a hand gesture that Hanbin could only interpret as “go ahead”.

“You have admitted to the six killings, correct?” Hanbin asked, deciding against showing the pictures of the bodies how they found them. Instead, he showed pictures of six fairly attractive Asian males how’d they looked like when they were alive. Hanbin could see that Bobby was disappointed, he wanted to see his own work – that selfish bastard.

“You only found six?” Bobby asked, and Hanbin didn’t know if this a way to play him or not. To freak him out to make him believe that Bobby had, in fact, killed more than six people. Or if this was a fact, and Bobby was disappointed that he’d go down in history as a serial killer with six victims, when it was a larger number.

“Answer the question, please.”

“I killed them,” Bobby confirmed, with no emotion in his voice. Not joy, not remorse. Nothing, and it was worse than having at least something there, even if it was relief or happiness.

“When you said, ‘you only found six’ do you mean by that there are other victims we haven’t found?”

“Perhaps.”

“Would you like to elaborate?” Hanbin asked and dared to look directly into his eyes. Bobby had a nice front, but that didn’t matter if the inside was as horrendous as Bobby’s.

“Not really,” Booby replied and started to study his nails like they were more important. It didn’t make Hanbin feel small, cheap tricks like that didn’t work on Hanbin.

“So, it was a false statement,” Hanbin asked, scribbling down something on a notepad. However, it was nothing of importance. What he really wrote was “dinner: spaghetti.”

“No, it’s the truth.”

“Then, would you tell me more about this so-called truth?” Hanbin asked, almost mocking the killer, and he could see it worked. Something sparked in Bobby’s brown eyes.

“I’d rather not,” he said and pressed his lips together forming a thin line.

“If you don’t want to give me the details, it’s probably a lie? Why would you hide the truth? You’re already in here,” Hanbin trailed on, continuing to write gibberish. To make it seem like he wrote something about lying tendencies.

“What kind of crap to they teach at the FBI academy?! It’s not my fault you and your fucking people can’t find eleven bodies!” Bobby roared furiously before he slammed his hands against the surface of the table. Making the quiet room echo from the loud slam. For a second, he breathed through his nose angrily, before he realised, he’d said too much. That Hanbin had outsmarted him. He sent the FBI agent a petrifying look, and if looks could kill Hanbin would be dead right about now.

“Would you like to talk about Grace Adams?” Hanbin continued. Ignoring any viciousness from Bobby.

“What’s there to talk about?” Bobby asked, pretending like he couldn’t be less interested. He probably wasn’t interested in the police finding her either, but that wasn’t up to him to decide.

“We could talk about where she’s located,” Hanbin suggested.

“A place you can’t find her,” Bobby answered, and he looked proud like he knew there was no chance FBI and the local police could find Grace. He was probably right.

“What do you mean by that we don’t have much time?” Hanbin asked and tried to smile slightly and Bobby. He didn’t return the smile, not that Hanbin had expected him to.

“What’s the time?” Bobby asked, instead of answering the question. Hanbin looked down at his wrist to check the clock.

“Uh, it’s 8:42 AM,” Hanbin replied, this time actually smiling at the end of the sentence.

“Then you have about 48 hours to find her,” Bobby replied.

“48? What happens if we don’t?”

“She’ll run out of air, and then die,” Bobby replied as if it wasn’t obvious. What was worse, was that he looked like was excited. Excited about seeing the little girl dead. The little girl hadn’t done him anything.

“Why do you want her dead?” Hanbin asked though he knew the answer.

“Revenge,” was the short answer the killer gave him that Hanbin had anticipated.

“Has she done something to you?”

“No, her dad did, we used to date,” was the blunt answer Bobby had to offer.

“What did he do to you?” Hanbin asked, almost already knowing the answer. However, he secretly hoped for a more valid reason. No reason made it okay to kidnap or murder, but some reasons were more understandable.

“He broke up with me.” The answer made Hanbin curse on the inside. He’d been expecting it, he still didn’t want it to be true. Because it was so childish, he couldn’t grasp the validation Bobby had, the logic that said it was okay to do horrible actions to you if they did you unjust.

“Wouldn’t it make more sense to get revenge on him?” Hanbin asked, it was a stupid question, but he figured he had time for stupid questions too. Maybe Bobby would lower his guard if he thought of Hanbin as stupid, so he would slip up again.

“I thought about it, but what’s the fun in killing him if I take what he cares most about in this world. If I rip his heart out, as he did with mine, that’s more fun. Don’t you think? And who knows, maybe he’ll kill himself? That’s what I call to kill two birds with one stone,” the laughter that erupted out of Bobby was cruel and wicked, just like Bobby. It made shivers move down Hanbin’s spine. He loved his job but hated moments like these. When he saw how fucked up humans could be.

“You are aware that you’re going to jail, right?” Hanbin asked, steering the conversation into a new direction.

“I am aware,” Bobbly replied, but he didn’t look happy about it. It wasn’t like he could break out of here. He’d need help, and a psychopath like Bobby didn’t have the ability to make those connections, those bonds, with other people. He didn’t have friends, so he had no one to help him.

“If you tell us where the girl is, we’ll agree on lessening your punishment,” Hanbin informed Booby, and the male only nodded.

“I’d rather see her die.”

Hanbin nodded and sensed the conversation was coming to an end. He collected his papers, before getting up. He had already gotten useful information out of Bobby, there was nothing he could get out of Bobby now. Bobby had given him useful information, more than Hanbin had been rooting for, it was better to not push the limit.

“Leaving already?” Bobby asked when Hanbin got up from the chair.

“I told you it would only be a short interview,” Hanbin said and smiled politely at the killer. “Goodbye Mr Kim,” with that Hanbin was out of the room, and he couldn’t feel more relieved. He loved his job, he really did, but he hated to have awful conversations like this with killers such as Bobby. Hanbin hated it and was more than happy to take the cup of coffee Junhoe reached him when he met the black-haired male. Anything to get his mind of the killer, and how he hated this society that created outcasts like Jiwon.

“How did it go?” was the first thing Junhoe asked, while Hanbin was sipping from the coffee he was in great need of.

“It went alright, I think. I got some new information out of him, but he didn’t tell me where Grace is,” Hanbin said, it was a small victory, but he hadn’t gotten what he needed.

“At least he was talking to you, I think you’re the one who’s had the longest conversation. What’s your trick?” Junhoe interviewed, and Hanbin almost felt like he was the one who’d committed a crime.

“What? I spent roughly ten minutes with him. I didn’t do anything special, we just talked,” Hanbin replied, unsure what his special trick was supposed to be.

“Then Hughes was right,” Junhoe mumbled, but it was more to himself than to Hanbin.

“Right about what?”

“Bobby found you attractive.”

***

The balding police sheriff entered the room again. This time he’d brought a younger female. The way he looked at her Hanbin could only guess she was his “secret weapon”. She was probably a better interrogator than the sheriff, not that that would hard. She smiled politely at Hanbin, but Hanbin didn’t return the smile. How much was the clock? How long would it take until Jiwon came? Would he even be able to come?

Hanbin didn’t doubt his lover’s words, not one bit. Jiwon had promised to come, so he would, but he didn’t trust the Russian mafia. Would they assist Jiwon? That was the only risk here. If they wouldn’t, Jiwon would go out on a stupid one-man’s-mission to break Hanbin out, and he’d probably fail. At least they’d meet in prison.

“Good day Mr Kim,” the lady welcomed and took a seat. The sheriff joined her shortly after, he just needed to finish glaring at Hanbin first.

Hanbin looked at the blonde woman but didn’t say anything. What was he supposed to say? Greet her back? It just seemed meaningless, pointless. A waste of time, so he restrained himself from doing so. Barely acknowledging her, showing she had his attention – at least for now.

“We’d like to ask you some questions. I assume, you’re already familiar with your rights?” she continued, ignoring his cold greeting.

Hanbin only looked at her like she was stupid. Of course, he was familiar with his rights? He was an ex-FBI agent, he was used to this kind of environment, only that he was more familiar with being the one asking the questions, not the one who was asked the questions.

“We’re trying to understand your actions. You left a good job, friends and family, and you’re never able to return to his good life – for what?” She was almost mocking him, and Hanbin wanted to roll his eyes. He didn’t feel like he’d lost a lot, he did miss his friends, but he had gained new ones.

“The same reason I became an agent in the first place,” Hanbin answered, it was the truth. The full truth. He hadn’t abandoned his life, and his job, his friends just to help Jiwon. No matter what it looked like now.

“To go rogue?” She asked rather rudely.

“No,” Hanbin asked, and considered if he should continue and tell her the reason or not. He decided that he was more mature than being offended by someone interrupting him. “To save people. To help them. Grace was going to die,” Hanbin told, though in all honesty, he didn’t really think it was her business why he decided to leave the FBI.

“You don’t know that,” she argued, and Hanbin scoffed. Yes, he knew that. Out of the three of them, he was the one he knew Jiwon best by far, he’d never tell them where Grace was if Hanbin hadn’t done what he did. Grace would’ve died.

“I do,” Hanbin said but didn’t offer further explanation.

The lady sighed, but Hanbin could tell that she wasn’t here to argue with him, so she tried to move on to something else. Hanbin wanted to sigh too, this was going to be a long interview – and she wasn’t nearly as good as the sheriff wanted her to be. If she was half as good as the sheriff wanted her to be, she’d be twice as good as she was.

“When was the last time you saw Kim Jiwon?” she continued.

“Don’t know,” Hanbin answered and shrugged.

“Oh, I think you do,” the sheriff said, finally saying something.

“Don’t remember, he doesn’t hold any particular importance to me,” Hanbin said, and he cringed on the inside. It was better for Jiwon and himself he pretended they didn’t have any kind of relationship, but it still felt wrong to lie about Jiwon. To pretend he meant nothing to Hanbin. When he really meant so much to him.

“Last time you both were seen you were together,” she told Han as if he didn’t know that already. He could clearly remember delivering Grace to her parents before he and Jiwon had driven away like the devil was chasing them. And the Devil wasn’t really chasing them at the time, but a police car definitely was.

“Of course, we escaped together. Would you rather we escaped in two cars?”

“So, you know where Kim Jiwon is now?” the sheriff asked, and Hanbin restrained himself from rolling his eyes. Of course, he didn’t now where Jiwon was right now. He had a vague idea where he could be, but he didn’t know where he was right now because Hanbin had been locked up here for the past couple of hours.

“No, I don’t know where he is, and frankly I don’t care. All I know is that I’m here, and he isn’t,” was the smart-ass reply Hanbin gave them. They should’ve hired the FBI to interrogate him because Hanbin was smarter than them. They’d never get anything useful out of him.

“When was the last time you saw Jiwon?” she asked. She looked at him expecting an answer, but he didn't say anything. A whole minute went without him saying anything he remained silent just so he could annoy her. “Answer the question, please,” she continued.

“I told you I don't remember,” Hanbin lied. Clearly, he remembered that the last time he saw Jiwon. It was probably 12 hours ago, he was sitting there staring at Hanbin anything just like the female police officer. For a moment he had been silent, but his eyes had said enough, he’s been angry at Hanbin, if it was up to Jiwon, Hanbin wouldn’t be sitting here right now. He’d probably be sitting next to Jiwon at this moment in some Russian mafia base. Only that, they probably would be killed in a merciless way. If they weren’t, they’d never be able to leave the country, this was the only way to do this. Jiwon had been angry, but Hanbin had refused to back down, and the only thing Jiwon could do was to agree with Hanbin.

“Don’t lie,” she said. She looked proud like she’d caught him in a lie, technically she had but it was an obvious lie. Everyone could tell that Hanbin was lying, of course, he was, she wasn't nearly as she’d good like to be. It was obvious he remembered the last time he saw Jiwon, he just didn’t want to tell them that.

“Does it matter?” Hanbin asked.

“Of course, it does,” she replied. “We need to catch him as soon as possible.” Hanbin doubted they could catch him.

“I doubt you will,” Hanbin muttered, but she didn’t what he said. Probably for the best anyway.

“What?” she asked, hoping he’d repeat that sentence, but Hanbin wouldn’t. He was smarter than that. A lot smarter than the female officer and the sheriff. Hanbin didn’t answer a question and that aggravated her.

“Why are you protecting Kim Jiwon?” she asked, and finally she asked an important question. However, Hanbin was still smarter than her. He’d prepared for a question like this, he’d been expecting a question like this – and he had an answer prepared. This question and other questions she was too stupid to come up with.

“I’m not,” Hanbin said, anger filling his voice – at least the blonde woman was led to believe it was anger, but Hanbin was only faking it. “He’s a killer,” Hanbin spat out, as he hated Jiwon. Sometimes Hanbin still wanted to hate him, but he couldn’t because he was so much closer to loving him.

“So, tell us,” she tried. She seemed so desperate that Hanbin almost pitied her. “When was the last time you saw Kim Jiwon?”

This integration was going to take its time, and Hanbin wondered once again when Jiwon would come and get him. Hopefully soon. Last time they’d been a situation like this, things had been different. Last time, it was Hanbin who broke out Jiwon.

It seemed so long ago, yet it seemed like it could’ve been hours ago.

***

The second interview with Bobby had been the very same day. It had been right before Hanbin’s lunch that Hughes had called for him. Apparently, after Hanbin’s little morning interview with Bobby, Bobby refused to talk to anybody that wasn’t Hanbin. Even going as far as saying “bring back the hot guy. I just want to talk to Hanbin”. Hughes didn’t mind, of course, because Hanbin was one of the most skilled interviewers here – but Hanbin minded. He was one of the best interviewers, but he hated to interview. Especially killers like Bobby. Psychopaths that didn’t feel anything and prided themselves with their work. Hanbin hated those people and did what he could to put those kinds of people in jail.

The second interview Hanbin decided against bringing in any papers, but he still wanted to have a polite approach. Bobby was more likely to talk to him if he acted like a decent human being than all the other stupid techniques Bobby could easily see through. Who even believed “bad cop vs good cop” nowadays? Bobby was too smart for stupid acts like that, and it was about time his colleagues realised as much.

That’s why Hanbin decided that instead of bringing files upon files to scare the killer (which didn’t work) or bring candies the psychopath would get if he played along as if he was some sort of child, Hanbin brought lunch. First of all, he was missing his own lunch; and he could only guess Jiwon hadn’t eaten for a long time. Interrogation rooms didn’t come with room service. Jiwon had been locked up since last night, Hanbin didn’t know the exact time – but it didn’t matter. He was bound to be hungry.

Now Hanbin wasn’t a fan of McDonald’s, he preferred healthier food, homemade if possible, but Hanbin wasn’t about to whip up a three-course dinner just for a serial killer, and he wasn’t going to drive around for decades just so he’d get to that vegan place he liked. McDonald’s was just across the street, and Hanbin had time to drop in and get out within five minutes because McDonald’s was known for one thing – not excellent, healthy food but fast food.

Hanbin entered the room with a bag of take-away food from McDonald’s and smiled slightly at Bobby who only studied him in response. Hanbin thought it was justified because it was out of character for a policeman, so he chose not to comment on it. However. He stilled looked into the cold eyes and realised Bobby this time wasn’t chained to the table, which Hanbin didn’t mind. Firstly, Bobby needed his hands to eat, secondly, he wasn’t threatened by the killer.

“I thought you might be hungry,” Hanbin said and raised the bag, “and I was supposed to have lunch now,” Hanbin explained as it was his only motive, and it was to some extent, but not really either. All this was about creating trust so Bobby might tell him something useful.

“Why are you being nice to me?” Bobby asked, frowning slightly. Even if he was a genius Hanbin was a complex enigma he just couldn’t solve. And it was just absurd that Hanbin would ever be slightly nice towards him. In a way that mindset was right, Hanbin was just doing his job, just in a different way than most. (He always got the job done, however, so there was no reason to complain.)

“I just thought you might be hungry, you’ve been here a long time, and I don’t think the others have given you anything to eat. Have they?” Hanbin tried to smile a genuine smile because it seemed like Bobby liked his smile.

“They haven’t,” Bobby confirmed.

“Just like I thought,” Hanbin said, but he didn’t know if he said it to himself or to Bobby. “So, Mr Kim, I didn’t know what you liked so I just bought you a Big Mac meal with a chocolate milkshake, I thought it was easier to just by the same I was getting. I hope you don’t mind,” Hanbin explained as he began to pack out of the bag and give Bobby his food.

“You can’t cut the deal with ‘Mr. Kim’,” Bobby said instead of thanking for the food.

“Oh yeah? What do you want me to call you?” Hanbin said and started to take out his own food.

“Jiwon.” Bobby didn’t say anything else than that, but it was unnecessary, it would just be extra words to fill the silence and neither Bobby nor Hanbin was a fan of useless words just because one could stand the silence. In the silence was at its loudest, filling silence was just a way of saying “I can’t stand my own thoughts.” Hadn’t Bobby been a psychopath, he’d probably be the most talkative person Hanbin had yet to meet – because he’s thoughts would normally kill a normal person. Oh, but Bobby was far from a normal person. The closest thing the brown-eyed male would ever get to normal was when he faked being normal.

“Uhm, okay,” Hanbin was unsure what to say. He didn’t want to be on first-name basis with a killer.

Bobby inspected the food throughout but didn’t take a bite of his burger, even if he probably was dying to. He looked as his burger, then at Hanbin and back at the burger.

“I haven’t poisoned it if that’s what you think,” Hanbin replied, at took a bite of his own burger. The meat tasted like crap, but he was hungry, so he’d take it. Slowly, Bobby took a bite of the burger and swallowed it. This was followed by a larger, quicker bite. This continued until the burger was gone and Bobby went lose on the fries, Hanbin was first-hand witnessing Bobby devouring a Big Mac meal.

“Would you mind talking about Grace?” Hanbin asked, looking at Bobby who was still eating fries.

“What about her?” His voice turned darker, almost eviler if that was possible.

“Would you tell me where she is?”

“Now what would be the point of that?” Bobby asked his voice coloured with mocking, and a hint of something arrogant.

“You told me she was somewhere the FBI can’t find her, what do you mean by that?”

“Obviously, you can’t find her.”

“Would you like to elaborate?”

“She’s close, I suppose, but it doesn’t matter, you can search high and low and you won’t find her. In less than 48 hours she’ll be dead.”

“Dead how?” Hanbin asked, really wishing he hadn’t asked that question.

Bobby took his hands up his neck and made a chocking notion, “she’ll slowly run out of air. The last two hours of her life will be hell, she can breathe, but so poorly, but yet she can't die.”

The first twenty-four hours went by in a flash and neither Hanbin nor others managed to get anything else useful out of Bobby. Hanbin had twenty-four hours left before Grace Adams would die. If she died, he was as good as dead. Well, not really, he’d just be promoted to do desk work, and not see a glimpse of a field mission in ten years. (Hanbin was just overreacting a little.)

***

"Hey scum! You’re going back to your cell,” a lanky boy said, he was ginger and covered in freckles. He looked condescending at Hanbin, and the black-haired male wished he could hit that smug smile off. He probably thought he was superior to Hanbin, the brown-eyed male almost wanted to scoff at the thought. As if Hanbin hadn’t seen the boy mopping the floors as he was brought to the station. The boy wasn’t above him, not the slightest, Hanbin was an ex-FBI agent, and this boy was mopping floors.

Just because Hanbin wore handcuffs at the moment didn’t mean that this stupid loser was above him. He’d never be, even if he wished so. Hanbin wanted to hit him, spit at him or prove his superiority to this failure of a man somehow, but Hanbin was smarter than that. He had a plan he needed to follow, and he would not stray from that plan just because he felt provoked.

The ginger-haired male yanked him up as soon as he had uncuffed him from the table and proceeded to pull him with him. A power-display. However, Hanbin didn’t feel like the underdog, mostly because he knew that if his hands were free, he’d beat the shit of this stupid man. The man knew it too and only acted this way because he knew Hanbin couldn’t take him on right now. Cowardly really, but Hanbin expected no less from the bald sheriff and the team that surrounded him. They were all idiots more or less.

The cell was small, and Hanbin guessed that it was mostly used for drunk teenagers. At least it smelled like puke, however, the smell didn’t bother Hanbin the slightest. If everything went according to plan, he wouldn’t be spending much time here. And Hanbin had faith in the plan. Jiwon would come soon, and he’d break Hanbin out, and they’d be on their way to Russia. Probably in some dumbass way, but he’d still come. Hanbin could hear low rumbling slightly far away, and he wondered if it was Jiwon, or if he was just getting his hopes up.

***

Five hours. Hanbin had five hours left to find the girl, and he was getting no way. Bobby was not telling them anything. Not even Hanbin. He’d tried to talk to the guy, but he didn’t say anything. As expected, why would the psychopath killer even try to spoil his plans? He was getting exactly what he wanted by keeping his mouth shut, so why would he even try to prevent the outfall that seemed like written in stone?

The police couldn’t offer him anything, the only thing Bobby could ever want was his freedom, and he wasn’t getting it. There was no way, yet here Hanbin was, sneaking into the cell where Bobby was kept as a last desperate attempt to get the killer to talk. He knew he wouldn’t, but he’d try. For Grace and her parents.

“What are you doing here?” Bobby asked from the shadows of his cell, and Hanbin stopped in his tracks to look at the man. Half of his face was lit up, just like his hair, however, the blond part of the hair was the one covered with shadow. It suited as some weird contrast, or a stupid way of life saying how good and evil just had a thin line between them. There was only a thin line between light and darkness and Hanbin was dancing on that line. He shouldn’t even be here. Hughes had sent him home two hours ago, or so the man thought. Yet here Hanbin was, snuck into the cells and looking at Hanbin, face to face with a psychopath. Yet in some strange way, he wasn’t scared. He never really feared killers, couldn’t give them the satisfaction of being scared. However, there was something about this setting that almost told Hanbin to be afraid.

But the man across him was calm as ever and sent out a soothing vibe. Even if he shouldn’t. Maybe Hanbin was just as fucked up as the man on the other side?

“I came to talk,” Hanbin confessed, and he could hear a slight scoff from Bobby, he expected it, so he chose to ignore it.

“I’m not in the mood to talk about the girl,” came from the cell, but Hanbin chose to ignore this too. Bobby would listen either way and reply if he was interested enough.

“I want to make a deal,” Hanbin stated. Waiting for a response from the older man, he didn’t have to wait long.

“Oh, do you?” came from the cell, and despite the darkness in the room, Hanbin could hear shuffling from the cell, almost as if the killer leaned forward.

“Show me where Grace is,” Hanbin begun, and took a small pause.

“Listen, I’m not about to point on some stupid map and then get three years less of my punishment,” Bobby spat out.

“No, I’ll take you with me. You’ll show me,” Hanbin said, and he was probably breaking at least five rules right now. Just a proof that Hanbin was dancing on the line between good and evil, he tried to do good, even if what he did to achieve it was illegal – evil.

“And what’s in it for me?” Bobby asked, and Hanbin hesitated. He didn’t want to utter those words because it was wrong. He couldn’t say it because it was illegal, and he couldn’t even foresee every consequence. It felt wrong to do it, but what other choice did he have? His bosses wouldn’t let a murder of a little child pass by like it was nothing.

“I’ll turn a blind eye and pretend like I’m surprised when you’re gone,” Hanbin answered when Bobby’s intense eyes became somehow intimidating. The killer started to laugh, almost as he’d predicted this outcome. Maybe he had? Hanbin couldn’t really tell.

“I’ll do it,” Bobby said, though it was unnecessary, Hanbin knew he would.

Breaking out proved much easier than Hanbin had anticipated. Maybe because there was a total of five people he had to avoid (most people were sent home) and because Hanbin took the escape route he’d been shown on his first day. No one was there, but that didn’t mean that Hanbin tried to be cautious. Luckily, Hanbin was lucky Jiwon was no fool and wasn’t loud or obnoxious – that would put him behind bars and he’d never get a taste of freedom again.

“Hurry up,” Hanbin murmured as he opened the escape door and held it open for Bobby. The half blond, half black-haired male exited quickly and waited stand-by for Hanbin to follow. The police officer was quick to follow him. He just wanted to find Grace as soon as possible.

“This way,” Hanbin whispered and jingled car keys as a message that they were driving. Bobby, the genius, obviously caught on this cue and followed Hanbin to a black SUV. The FBI would later be able to track the car, no doubt about that, but it didn’t matter right now. By the time they realised that Bobby, Hanbin and an SUV was missing and realised all three cases were connected Hanbin would hopefully have rescued Grace and he’d take whatever fate he’d be served.

The car ride was silent, for the first hour with Bobby only giving directions where Hanbin should drive. The second hour, however, consisted of a bored serial killer who tried to understand Hanbin and asked way too personal questions. Like about his past relationships, sex life and what he wanted in a relationship. Almost a twisted way of hitting on him. It was more creepy than flattering, but yet Hanbin felt something along the lines of flatter.

***

Hanbin was shaken out of his thoughts by a large crashing sound. First Hanbin tried to use his logic and brush it off as a car in the parking lot or a stupid driver maybe a little drunk too, but it couldn’t be. It was too loud, and a rumbling sound soon dismissed it as a car. It was probably someone doing something stupid and reckless.

Oh.

It had to be Jiwon. That stupid fucker. Hanbin didn’t even know what he was doing, but he knew it was a bad idea. He was doing something that Hanbin would’ve deemed too stupid for a great mind like Jiwon’s. But maybe that was the plan? Maybe that was that stupid idiot Hanbin dared call his boyfriend’s plan? Maybe Jiwon was using the element of surprise to his advantage?

He was. Hanbin was proven as much when a car, as in an actual truck, crashed into the wall, damaging the neighbour cell more than Hanbin’s, but bricks and dust were crashing onto the ground, creating a massive ruckus. When Jiwon had said he’d break Hanbin out of prison this wasn’t the way it was supposed to go. Hanbin wanted to smack Jiwon for putting them into this situation, but he couldn’t do anything except grin when he saw the vague face of his lover. The blue Toyota reversed with a great deal of problems, but it managed to do it with just enough force. Hanbin was quick to leave out of the big hole and counted himself lucky that his cell was located on the first floor.

Halfway on his way to the now ruined truck, he was met by Jiwon who wrapped his strong arms around him. “Missed you,” Jiwon mumbled into his neck, and Hanbin’s already large grin grew. Shivers moved down his spine, and a feeling of relief washed over Hanbin. He didn’t want to admit it, but there had been a small fear nagging in the back of his head that he’d never see Jiwon again. Luckily, that fear turned out to be nothing but complete rubbish.

“Hi baby,” Hanbin greeted but didn’t get to finish his sentence before he felt Jiwon’s warm lips were pressed against his own. Hanbin should’ve just made it a quick kiss, pulled away and dragged Jiwon away with him. He should’ve said that they’d have more than enough time to kiss and whatnot when they were safe in Russia. But Hanbin had always been weak to temptation. So, instead of pushing Jiwon of him like a smart and decent human being would’ve done. He pulled him closer.

He pulled him as close as possible, almost like Hanbin’s entire existence depended on physical contact. Their lips moved in a hastily, hurried pace – but the passion was still evident. Like it always was. That’s one of the things that made Jiwon so different from any other person Hanbin had ever been with, Jiwon’s very being, every ounce, was filled with passion. So, Hanbin managed to see behind his actions and forgive him for it.

Jiwon’s warm hands snuck under his shirt, and more shivers crept across his skin. His own hands were already locked around Jiwon’s neck, as he leaned into the soothing and comforting touch. He shouldn’t think that Jiwon was a safe space, he shouldn’t feel as comforted as he did when his eyes locked with Jiwon’s, but he did. Their lips continued to move, but the once hurried pace slowed down to a slow, almost lazy kiss. They shouldn’t be kissing here, not in this situation, but that fact made it even more thrilling, and Hanbin couldn’t help but lust for more.

Jiwon was the devil, and Hanbin carried his own demons. Now that his demons had danced with Jiwon’s devil it had created such natural force that was hard to contain. Maybe even impossible. With Jiwon Hanbin felt alive, even if he knew that Jiwon could easily end him in more than one way.

Hanbin pulled away as slowly as he could, trying to save the taste of Jiwon. Hoping to make the moment last as long as he could without dying from lack of oxygen. “We should go,” Hanbin whispered, still just centimetres away from Jiwon.

“We should,” Jiwon agreed, but not before he pecked Hanbin’s lips one more time.

“And how do you suggest we get out of here? The car is a wreck, I mean, can you even drive it?” Hanbin asked now they were back to being serious. After all, they had to get away, and now preferably.

“Babe, do you think I came here without a back-up plan?” Jiwon asked and looked a little offended.

“By the way you crashed into the building, well yes,” Hanbin answered in a matter-of-factly voice. It wouldn’t surprise Hanbin if Jiwon’s back-up plan was to take the bus.

“Okay, rude,” Jiwon joked, and Hanbin could feel his heart flutter, the way his boyfriend spoke was so innocent, but Hanbin knew he wasn’t. Speaking in that manner made is so more special because it was a special side of him, he showed to no one but Hanbin. “I actually have a back-up plan. Or more of a second getaway vehicle,” Jiwon continued, and with that, a black car pulled up the driveway. The window opened halfway, and a bald man poked his head out just slightly.

“Get in car,” he said with a thick accent and the couple was quick to obey, they didn’t need to be told twice. It was now or never if they didn’t get away soon – they both end up in jail.

***

Hanbin wanted to throw up. He felt sick to his stomach. What kind of monster would do this? To a little child even? And for what? Revenge? Just because someone did “unjust” to the psychopathic killer. Hanbin couldn’t even grasp the fact of how Jiwon could justify this.

He had locked her in a tank, and Grace would slowly suffocate to death as she ran out of air. What kind of damn sicko thought of something like that? And yet Hanbin could find it in him to yell at him, to scream at him, to hit Jiwon or to do something – at least just stay away from him. But no, Hanbin did nothing. Maybe because Hanbin was so tired from the long drive? But deep down the black-haired man knew it wasn’t because of tiredness, there was something in his subconscious that was starting to grow. A feeling, a desire. Something tempting yet forbidden. Something Hanbin knew he could let himself have no matter how much he wanted it.

The tube-like thing was opened and inside was the poor girl. Grace. She looked worse than the pictures he’d seen, but Hanbin didn’t really care about her looks. All he cared for was that she was alive, and she was. He could tell by her gaze staring directly at him. Bobby on the other side had seemed to morph with the shadows, which was a good thing. Hanbin didn’t need Grace to see Bobby and cause her more distress. If the bastard had taken his leave and leap into freedom Hanbin wouldn’t mind either. Good riddance really.

“Grace?” he questioned her with a voice so fragile it could break every second. Her brown eyes never left his, but she made a small nod giving him permission to talk. However, she was wary of him and kept her distance.

“I’m here to take you home, to your dads. Would you like that?” Hanbin asked and took a small break for her to process it.

“R-really?” she stuttered, and her brown eyes were filled with so much hope but there was something in her eyes, so afraid to trust him in case he’d deceive her. God, what had Jiwon done?

“Yes, I pinky promise,” Hanbin said smiling slightly. He then held out his pinky for her to lock it with his. Her small pinky was intertwined with his. Hanbin smiled largely at her before he moved slightly so Grace could get out of the tank, she trembled slightly, until she almost fell to the ground. Not too surprising, Grace was probably in need of medical help.

“Do you want me to carry you?” Hanbin asked not wishing to make her uncomfortable in any way. He needed to get her home safely, nothing else. At least she was still alive. Maybe everything could get a happy ending? Maybe, even if real-life usually never did, this time things would end on a high note? Hanbin couldn’t help but hope so. Even in if California more or less had a killer on the loose.

Grace nodded weakly before a small yes escaped her lips, and Hanbin nodded slightly too. Before he bent down slowly to her height and picked her up so carefully as he could. He proceeded to walk out of the abandoned storage house and across the gravelly road toward where the car was parked. From here Hanbin could already see Jiwon inside the car and it surprised him. He’d thought that Bobby would’ve escaped. That he’d seen the last glimpse of Kim Jiwon, but he was apparently wrong.

Now, this place wasn’t really the most populated area and getting away from here to say Mexico would be a bit difficult, but it had its perks too. No one would see you and tip the police, going back to Grace’s house would probably be stupid. If Hanbin was right, which he probably was, the Adams household would be surrounded by police force just in case Bobby would make a move towards the parents. The rest of the police was spread around downtown and the border to Mexico and the neighbouring states like Oregon, Arizona and Nevada.

Cautiously Hanbin entered the backseat still holding onto Grace making sure she didn’t see Bobby. He didn’t know if she had seen Bobby’s face neither did he care, the only thing Han bin cared about was keeping Grace safe. He hoped that she’d never go through something as terrible as this again. She was just a child for fuck’s sake! She was as innocent as white snow, like a little lamb. Grace deserved nothing but getting home safely and live an undisturbed life. Monsters like Bobby should stray away from her path forever.

“What’s your name?” she asked, still sitting in Hanbin’s lap as Jiwon started the motor and begun to drive away from the storage house.

“My name’s Hanbin,” the black-haired male side smiling slightly at her. Now, it wasn’t safe of her to sit in his lap and not with seat belt, but Hanbin was pretty sure he couldn’t get her to move away from him the way she clutched onto him. Besides, it had its perks, it meant she was facing Hanbin and not Jiwon.

“I’m Grace,” she chippered, “where are ya from?”

“Hi Grace,” Hanbin laughed slightly, “I’m from South Korea. My family and I moved all the way from there to here,” Hanbin said dragging out ‘all’ to show the distance.

“My dad is from South Korea, he says it’s further away than my school,” she said a matter-of-factly and Hanbin couldn’t help but giggle slightly.

“Your dad is right. Have you been to Disneyland?” Hanbin asked.

“Yes,” Grace nodded violently.

“South Korea is farther away than that,” Hanbin told her truthfully.

“Wow, that’s really far away!” she said in awe, and Hanbin agreed with her. In the rear-view mirror, Hanbin could swear he saw Jiwon looking fondly at them, but it was gone as soon as he noticed it.

Grace ended up sleeping on Hanbin’s shoulder, which was fine. Jiwon and Hanbin kept a conversation in hushed voices that died out at times, but that too was fine. The conversation started fine, normal really, but after about a while it took a weird turn to Jiwon trying to hit on him again. This time with less personal questions, but still weird to get from a psychopathic killer. What was is dream date? If he had any kinks? (That one was kind of personal.) If wanted kids? Where he saw himself in ten years, and where he wanted his wedding to be held. Whenever Hanbin tried to return those questions Jiwon only answered the same Hanbin had said.

A while later they were finally outside Grace’s house, as Hanbin had expected the house was surrounded by police, well there was just one car, but it didn’t matter. They were still there watching over the Adams family. Luckily, the police didn’t seem to see Hanbin sneaking into the backyard with Grace, or knocking on the door before he bid Grace goodbye and told her he had to leave. She didn’t seem to mind too much because she was too excited to see her parents. When Hanbin was further away he could hear excited shouting and happy crying. A small smile crept on his features knowing Grace was finally safe.

Hanbin made it inside the car and met eyes with Jiwon, they shared a small smile before they could hear the distant sound of police sirens.

“Are you ready to leave?” Jiwon questioned turning on the engine but not moving an inch, just looking at Hanbin as away of saying ‘you call the shots’.

“Yeah,” Hanbin answered hesitantly before they drove away before the police could even reach them.

***

“Are you ready to leave?” Jiwon asked hugging Hanbin from behind, the question was whispered into his ear like a secret. Something meant for only Hanbin to hear.

“Yeah,” Hanbin replied calmly leaning into the touch. They were looking at the small passenger plane that Aleksandr – part of the Russian mafia – would fly. Hanbin didn’t really know what kind of deal Jiwon had made with them, but he knew they were greatly indebted to them. Arriving in Russia the two of them would probably live in the shadow side of the society, but it didn’t matter. As long as they were together and free it was fine. More than fine, it was perfect.

“The plane is ready to be boarded,” Aleksandr said, and Hanbin nodded slightly. It was so strange for the Russian to speak with a British accent, but Hanbin had been told that Aleksandr used to study some kind of business major there and had adopted the accent over the years. Aleksandr was the guy you went to if you had a problem with anything. Whether it was driving a plane, medical problems, how to smuggle weapons in and out or something as small as the dishwasher didn’t work. He knew something about everything, but his speciality was how to whitewash money to make it seem legal.

The couple entered the plane not caring to have any luggage with them. Anything they needed would later be provided by the Russian mafia. The only thing Hanbin needed was right beside him. Jiwon. A few minutes later the plane took off as a private plane, little did the United States now the plane was transporting to illegal criminals away from the US and into what could seem like the enemy’s country.

“Dasvidaniya Amerika,” Jiwon said with a surprisingly good Russian accent while the plane was taking off.

“Are you gonna miss it?” Hanbin found himself asking.

“What’s there to miss?” Jiwon replied, “I have everything I need right beside me,” Jiwon continued and dragged Hanbin into a kiss. Maybe everything could, even in real life, end on a high note?