Rain drummed against the window. It was the sound that woke Jared. Not gentle, not soothing, but insistently rhythmic. A pulse that jabbed into the edges of his awareness until his eyes cracked open.

For a moment, he couldn’t remember where he was.

The ceiling above him was too clear. No tunnels, no flicker of red lights. Just the off-white panels of the guest room. Clean. Still. Alien, after the places he’d wandered in sleep.

Ache in the bones. Deep, marrow-heavy.

The Dark was quiet. Not asleep. It never slept. It was watching. He could feel its weight like another presence in the room. It was crouched in the corner somewhere just beyond sight.

Ten seconds before the scent reached him. Warm. Savory. Domestic. Wrong.

Jared blinked.

That wasn’t right.

He pushed upright. Muscles protesting. Head throbbing. The whistle’s residue still scraping at the back of his skull. Yesterday’s clothes clinging, cuffs and collar damp.

A soft clatter from the kitchen pulled his attention. Someone else was here.

Jared froze.

Then everything rushed back. Adrian’s hand on his shoulder in the rain. The key. The Dark touching him. The terror that had clawed up Jared’s throat when he felt it reach for Adrian, unbidden, hungry for... No. He shut that thought down. Hard.

He scrubbed a hand over his face. He took a deep breath and walked out to the hallway. The kitchen lights were on.

Adrian stood at the stove. His sleeves rolled up past his elbows. hair pulled back in a neat braid. He was wearing the clothing that he had arrived in. But he was neat, clean. He looked pressed. His lab jacket hung on the back of a chair.

Jared stared.

Adrian was cooking. Actually cooking.

He thought about how he’d come to Adrian’s bed in the middle of the night and sighed. Things were complicated again.

The pan sizzled softly, releasing a scent of garlic and meat and something herbal Jared didn’t recognize. Steam curled up into warm light, gently fogging Adrian's glasses.

Adrian turned slightly at the sound of footsteps. “Afternoon.”

Jared blinked. “It’s… afternoon?”

Adrian checked his watch. “Almost three.”

Jared winced. “I slept that long?”

Wasted most of the day.

“You slept like a corpse,” Adrian said dryly. Then, softer: “Which is significantly better than the alternative.”

He shifted, suddenly aware of himself. The smell, the look. Adrian, pristine, standing in his kitchen. Jared, scraped out of the bottom of something rotten. Disoriented, still.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to...” Jared let the sentence trail off. He wasn't sure how to apologize for everything.

“You needed it.” Adrian turned back to the pan. "And now you need a shower."

A laugh, rough in his throat. He turned away, shuffled to his room, and gathered clean clothes. In the bathroom, there was evidence of Adrian. Towels, damp and used, hanging heavy. Another toothbrush on the sink. Soap in the air. Stuff that was not his own.

Water, scalding. He waited, peeling off dirty clothes and dropping them into the hamper. Stepped into the shower. Eyes closed. Thoughts refusing to still. Turned the heat higher, as far as it would go.

If only washing could reach inside. If only it could make him clean.

Quick, rough shower. Pushing away images of Adrian. He’d slept while Adrian moved through the apartment. Showered. Washed his clothes. Maybe even gone out shopping. The world kept moving while he drifted.

Did he walk naked through these rooms, waiting for the wash to finish?

Forehead pressed to tile. "Fuck."

The Dark pulsed. He let it stretch, too tired to resist. Wishing he could slip under, let it coil around him, pull him down where nothing mattered.

Is that what it would be like? Inside the Abyss? 

He scrubbed hard, chasing pain to drown the pressure behind his eyes. Threads of Dark swirling, filling the shower, spilling out, filling bathroom, bedroom, hallway. No way to contain it.

Adrian watched as several tendrils of shadow skimmed over the surfaces in the living room and kitchen as if seeking something that was lost.

Jared stepped out, dried off, stood in the center of the bathroom. The Dark wrapped him, cocooned, tendrils stretching everywhere. No hiding it. Adrian must have seen.

There is no way they weren't throwing him in a containment tank.

Clothes on. The Dark, tucked in tight. He looked in the mirror. Eyes filmed black. Blinked, hard. Nothing changed.

Maybe sunglasses next time to hide the black.

He went back out into the kitchen and stared at Adrian's back, watching him finish up the meal.

Not used to people in his space. Not used to this, quiet, normal, the shape of someone else moving through rooms as if they belonged.

Adrian glanced over his shoulder. “There’s fresh coffee.”

Adrian opened a cupboard, pulled out a cup. It had the logo of a museum he visited once. Some lost fragment of memory. Like everything else here.

Jared blinked again. “How do you know where everything is?”

“You have four cabinets. It’s not complicated, Jared.”

Right.

“Sit.”

He hesitated. Coffee held up, a shield. Lowered himself into a cold metal chair.

Adrian’s gaze lingered. Too long.

“You look better,” he said.

“I’m fine.”

Adrian tilted his head. “That’s the second lie I’ve heard from you this morning.”

Grip tightening on the mug. Thoughts spinning. What lies? Things are as they always are. Functional. Acceptable. Fine.

He didn’t know what to do with this attention. Someone looking too close. Nowhere to hide. Nothing to look at but the Dark.

Adrian plated food and set a plate in front of him. Rice with vegetables. Fish. Something that smelled like rosemary.

“You didn’t have to do this,” Jared muttered.

“I know.” Adrian sat across from him. “Eat.”

Jared stared at the plate.

It looked good. Real. Too much. Not hungry. Just hollow.

Fork in hand. Pushing rice, sauce, spices. Vegetables, firm. Fish... he hated fish. Wrong in his mouth. He poked at it. Nothing like what he usually ate.

Adrian watched him until he took a bite. Then he nodded and picked up his own fork.

They ate in silence.

Rain filled the space between them. Steady. Rhythmic. Grounding.

Eventually, Adrian set his fork down.

“The officers uploaded their evidence packets at seven this morning,” he said. “I reviewed most of it while you were sleeping.”

He swallowed, hating the way it clung. Too much. Too thick.

“Anything useful?”

He did his best not to let his disgust show on his face. Adrian had worked hard to cook this meal. It would hurt his feelings if he rejected it. He took small bites to try to lessen the flavors' intensity and sipped his coffee to rinse everything away.

“Nothing unexpected,” Adrian said. “Photos of the bodies. Mapping of the alley. Chemical traces.”

Jared waited. Adrian’s eyebrows pulled together.

“And embalming fluid,” he added. “On LeMere’s clothing.”

Jared’s fingers twitched. “So he was working with dead tissue.”

Was he really the killer? Pushed at the fish, not tasting.

“Or on it,” Adrian said. “There’s a difference. But yes. It aligns with some of the ritual patterns in the other murders. But not enough to call it for sure.”

"Not much to go on," Jared said. He set his fork on the edge of the plate and picked up his coffee with both hands.

"Nothing new, no," Adrian agreed.

Jared exhaled slowly. “So we go to LeMere’s place.” Just saying it made his skin crawl.

Adrian nodded. “He was carrying the dagger. That ties him to the ritual-murder series. It’s the strongest lead we have.”

Jared pushed his mostly full plate away. “Then we start there.”

The Dark tightened, coiling inside. LeMere’s house. A mage’s house. Shadows there. Resonance. Things crawling through cracks in reality. Places where the Dark would react. Maybe be recognized.

He hated how the Dark stirred. Hated the wanting.

He stood to take care of his plate.

But Adrian rose too, stepping closer. Close enough that Jared could feel warmth at his side.

“You don’t have to pretend you’re fully recovered,” Adrian said softly.

“I’m fine,” Jared said again.

"That's the third lie," Adrian noted.

Jared sighed. "I'm not lying to you, Adrian. I'm fine."

“You’re still pale,” Adrian countered. “And your hands were trembling until five minutes ago.”

Jared’s jaw clenched. He hadn’t noticed the shaking. That made it worse.

Adrian reached out like he might touch Jared’s arm again, then stopped, hovering just an inch away. “If the Dark reacted that strongly to the whistle, then you’re still destabilized. We should watch your output. And your heart rate.”

“I don’t need watching." He hated how fast the words came. How defensive.

Adrian’s expression softened, that unsettling mix of concern and something else. Something warm. Something Jared didn’t have a name for.

“You’re not alone in this,” Adrian said quietly. “Even if you think you are.”

Jared swallowed hard. His mouth was suddenly dry.

He didn’t know how to respond. He didn’t know how to hold that kind of sentiment without dropping it or breaking it or breaking himself.

He turned away. “We should go.”

“Jared—”

“I said we should go.”

Adrian fell silent.

Not angry. Not hurt. Just watching. Studying every fracture under Jared’s skin. He hated that Adrian didn’t look away. If he’d gotten angry, Jared would know what to do. But Adrian never did what made sense.

Jared grabbed his coat from the wall hook and shrugged into it. “We’ll hit LeMere’s place and see what we can find. Maybe he kept notes. Or materials. Or whatever the hell that whistle was tied to.”

Adrian nodded slowly. “I’ll get my stuff.”

And together, they stepped out into the hallway. The air was cool. The lights flickered faintly as Jared passed beneath them. He heard Adrian sigh under his breath at the flicker, but he didn’t comment.

Outside, the rain had finally eased into a soft drizzle.

“LeMere’s residence is across town,” Adrian said as he unlocked the car. “Historic district. Old architecture.”

“Great,” Jared muttered. “Old and creepy. My favorite.”

Adrian opened the passenger door for him without comment. It was unnecessary. It made Jared’s chest feel too tight.

He climbed in. Adrian closed the door, walked around, and slid into the driver’s seat.

Rain streaked down the windshield in slow rivers. The Dark thrumming, uneasy, in his bones.

Adrian started the engine.

Adrian eased the car out of the parking space. Silence settled heavily around them. Just the hum of the engine filled the space between them. Jared stared out the window, wishing he were driving. That would give him something to do, something to focus on. He felt hollow. Not tired. Not hungry. Just… empty. Like something inside him had been scooped out...

Slumped in the dark. Heads bowed. Skulls hollowed.

Adrian glanced at him once. Then twice. Longer each time.

Finally, he said quietly, “You didn’t eat.”

Jared’s jaw tightened. He kept his gaze out the window, where it was safe. “I ate.”

“You moved the food around,” Adrian corrected, voice soft but precise. “You didn’t take more than two bites.”

Jared shrugged. “Wasn’t hungry.”

“That’s not the point.”

A faint irritation pricked at Jared’s ribs. “Then what is?”

He shouldn't snap at him. It isn't his fault.

“You don’t have to force yourself because I made it,” Adrian said. His tone wasn’t sharp. Wasn’t hurt. Just… steady. “You don’t have to pretend to like it. Or to be okay. Or to match what you think I expect.”

Blinking at the window. Reflection staring back, pale, strange, dark rings around the eyes. A ghost. He was a ghost.

Adrian continued, quieter this time, “If you didn’t want it, you could’ve said so.”

Jared swallowed. His throat felt tight. “I just didn’t want to waste it.”

“It’s rice, Jared. Not a sacred offering.” Adrian’s mouth twitched almost into a smile, but not quite. “And you’re not going to offend me. I know you don’t eat much when the Dark is active.”

Jared flinched at how easily Adrian said that. Like it was normal. Like he’d memorized the pattern years ago and never forgot. Like everyone had this Dark coiled up inside them, looking to break out.

Or to summon them in deeper.

Adrian reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small data pad, setting it into the console without looking away from the road. “There’s a shop on the way to the historic district. I’ll grab you something simple. Something mild. You can try it later, when your system settles.”

“I’m fine.”

“That’s the fourth lie today.”

Jared shot him a sharp look, but Adrian wasn’t watching him. His eyes stayed on the road.

He spoke gently, but firmly. “I’m not keeping score to win something, Jared. I need to know when you’re hurting.”

The words hit harder than expected. Something inside tearing open, the Dark rushing up. He looked away, fingertips pressed to cold glass. Other hand to his chest, willing the Dark down.

“I don’t need...” he let the sentence trail away as another wave of Dark pushed out against his ribs. He felt as if everything inside him was breaking, cracking open to spill out. How could he feel so hollow and so at risk of overflowing at the same time?

“I know you don’t think you do,” Adrian said. “But I’m still here. And I’m going to make sure you don’t go into this empty.”

Silence. Not awkward. Not sharp. Heavy. Weighted with things unsaid, with years stretched between them. Like no time had passed at all.

What had he been doing with himself since he left?

The rain softened into a whisper across the windshield.

Adrian switched lanes, guiding them smoothly through traffic. “I’ll stop at the shop. You can stay in the car. I won’t make you go in.”

Exhaled, slow. Shoulders tight. Chest bruised, inside.

“…fine,” he muttered.

Adrian didn’t smile. But his voice warmed. “Good.”

Jared closed his eyes for a moment. The Dark rippled under his skin, restless and cold, but quieter now. Less like a blade. More like a breath. He wasn’t used to this. To someone seeing him. Someone adjusting around him instead of pushing him.

Someone staying.

Rain washed down the windows in thin silver rivers. Adrian’s hands stayed steady on the wheel. And as the city lights blurred past them in long streaks of color, Jared felt something he hadn’t felt in a long time... a longing. It frightened him more than the Dark.

Adrian turned onto the main road.

“Let’s get you something,” he said softly. “Then we’ll face whatever’s waiting in that house.”

And Jared, unable to trust his voice, just nodded.