[fic] Homecoming
Title: Sights Unseen, Part 3 [Of 3]
Setting: Blacklight
Author(s): Ona, Jeni and Chex
Warnings: Violence, Language
Summary:

It was just past ten when Ana and Booker began nearing the district that that they'd narrowed down as the last place the Rumrunners would have been seen, and not five minutes after rounding the corner on the main street leading there, the CB in the car burst to life with a crackle of static and a coded shout of shots being fired at the scene. Ana hissed loudly, glancing down at the radio secured under the dash as her hands gripped the wheel even tired, pulling the skin across her knuckles in to a bloodless white.

"Damn... they didn't waste any time, did they?"

Booker glanced at her, face expressionless, before returning to checking his gun in the passenger seat. He already had a bulletproof vest on under his jacket and a bag of random tactical supplies he had filched from somewhere. For such a law-abiding person, there were times when he bent the rules to all hell and back just to accomplish a goal. "Well, if a bunch of cops showed up to bust you in the middle of drug trafficking, I imagine you'd be pretty put out by it too."

Ana scoffed, muttering 'idiots' under her breath as she slowed, nearing the area where several police cruisers and a couple larger PD issued vehicles sat, officers crouched with guns at the ready all around.

She'd planned to stay out of sight as much as possible and use one of the lower adjoining building to where the drug runners had been hiding as cover. The local PD were never particuarly happy when the 'gun wielding scientists' showed on the scene of their little parties, so Ana had been hoping to keep out of the way enough that the sheriff wouldn't notice them nearly as much, especially when they went to do something as stupid as run in and try to rescue the hostage themselves.

If the gun shots didn't kill them, certain Rory would be more than happy to do it himself when they got back to the office.

Their impending demise at the hands of their current gang related problem or their short tempered, long winded night shift manager wasn't something Ana got to contemplate for more than a few scant seconds, as their approach had obviously been noticed by some one posted as lookout. The very back side window in the cargo area shattered with an ear splitting noise, spraying gummy bits of safety glass about the car and all the way up to the cabin. Ana let out a loud swear and slammed on the brake hard, getting a slide out of the back tires from the force. Ducked down, hands still on the wheel and breath heavy with her rapid heart beat, she stared at Booker from beneath a mess of red bangs, snarling in her anger and surprise.

Her partner was kneeling in the foot space with his gun out, turned around to survey the damage and try and trace the line of fire in anticipation of another shot. The slide had taken them behind the cover of another building, making them safe enough for the moment but they needed to move.

He kicked the door open and got out, gesturing for Ana to follow and looking sheepishly back at the window. "Yet another thing for Rory to complain about later. He hates unnecessary costs like this. Let's go."

The view of the police that he'd gotten made it clear the attention was mostly focused on the front. Going around back would be dangerous, but it would be mildly safer than storming the front door. Booker moved to the end of the small alley they were in and looked around the corner. The warehouse was in sight but there were some dumpsters that could cover their approach if they worked this right.

The only problem was the simple innocuous little fact that no true entrances besides loading doors actually flanked the side and back of the main structure. High windows sat above the ground, narrow and barely large enough to accommodate a full sized man, and those seemed to be the only valid entry points that wouldn't require hefting a huge sliding door to the side in order to get to the inside.

Stopping at one of the dumpsters that lined up against the wall, a few positioned perfectly below the windows. It was almost enough lift, but Ana would still need another boost.

She snagged Booker's shoulder tightly, and when he turned she held her finger to her lips then pointed to the windows.

"I'm going to do something stupid," she said in a hushed voice, a weak smile appearing on her lips from the empty humor of the statement. "Lift me up and then cover me."

A first response of thinking how stupid that plan was not unusual for the things that came out of Ana's mouth and Booker just sighed and went along with it. He'd be able to see through the window if he stood on the dumpster, but getting the leverage to get through it himself would be difficult. "If you die, I'll kill you."

Another glance confirmed that there were enough crates stacked below the window to let her return this way and then Booker crouched down, giving her a stable support for getting up into the window.

His partner didn't bother to point out just how much lacking eloquence his statement had, or the fact that she really had no intents of dying that day anyway so long as Nei'ess was still in trouble.

Instead, Ana thanked whatever force had granted her the metabolism, self control, and genetics that her frame was so light, even with her sizable assets. It made it a simple feat, really, to use Booker for the proper leverage and haul herself up, pushing the swinging window inward on its hinge. Thankfully, for all the disrepair the building was in, the hinge didn't squeak loudly, and she was able to slip in, one foot after the other until she found proper footing.

The forces inside the building were roughly divided to the front left and right corners, one likely being made of Rumrunners and the other Purgatory. The police pressure on the front doors attracted their attention, though both groups still aimed at each other over walls of crates. It wouldn't take much to get either group to shoot each other, or Ana either.

Booker took up a position on his side of the window, gun at ready and watching all the angles he could see. It was not the best place for covering her if she got out of sight, but it was the best he could do. There was no sign of Nei'ess though. If the kid really was in there, he was out of sight.

The amount of people honestly shocked Ana. It had felt like, at first at least, that there had been so few within the two respective gangs, but she realized that she knew looks could often be so very deceiving. Several already littered the ground where they'd been struck, either by actual bullets or debris of the dusty wooden crates that were scattered about in stacks and single rows. Some were dead, others merely unconscious, but either way the entire thing had turned in to fiasco. The DA was going to be all over both departments and the Gang Unit by the end of it all.

Slipping down as quietly as she could manage, which wasn't difficult with the shouting both groups were doing at each other and the cops outside, Ana dropped into an instant crouch once she hit the ground. Her own gun at ready, it was a simple maneuver to get from one set of crates to another, foot steps slow, deliberate and sliding along at a whisper. Nei'ess wasn't nearby, at least not in her immediate line of vision, but he had to have been there somewhere.

The boy was tucked up behind some crates on the far side of the building, shaking and doing his best to be unnoticed. So much blood and violence and... His head swam, waves of dizziness and lightheadedness hitting him, possibly a side-effect of the blood still oozing out from under the bandage wrapped around his head. This was wrong, all wrong, and he was going to end up dead here.

Nei'ess spotted Ana first, freezing except for the tremors. Why was she there? How...? Shoving those questions aside, he began edging away from the fight again, trying to make it to where she could see him and reach him without attracting attention. Assuming he was even her target. She could be trying to sneak up behind the gangsters, but that seemed completely suicidal. He kept his colorful eyes locked on her position behind the crates, urging his body to cooperate, bruises or not.

Careful steps, quiet as she could possibly be, brought her around the crates, having to pause every few seconds as someone nervously backed up, stopped, and walked forward again. The shots had stopped for the time being, but they could erupt again just as easily. Everyone in that place, Ana included, had itchy trigger fingers and hairline nerves.

Finally movement that didn't properly belong to one of the gang members caught her eye, causing her to jerk in its direction nervously. Her heart hammered heavy and fast in her chest, pumping her entire body full of adrenaline even as she realized with a wash of wonderful, heart wrenching relief that it was Nei'ess. He was alive, if not horribly worse for wear in his current condition.

The problem was, though, that an extra twitchy looking Rumrunner was standing side profile in between the two of them. He hadn't noticed either, and had been doing a lot of the same back and forth that the others were doing, only with a much more terrified gait, one that said he was going to turn chicken the second some one started firing again. He was vanishing and reappearing, again and again, from the side of a large stack of crates, and it was only when he was up past them that Ana could even seen Nei'ess through the dimness of the warehouse. That still posed the rather irritating dilemma of getting Twitchy McChickenshit to not notice as she went darting across the distance.

She was hesitating and Nei'ess could tell why. It was hard to find the blind spots in this mess and failure meant a bullet, followed likely by more bullets and death. He could see them though, the thin safe paths where no one looked. All it took was opening up his mind to the magic that let him see everything.

Before she could stop him, the boy started forward, eyes closed and moving slowly. Every time the man turned or glanced around, Nei'ess was just barely out of sight, cutting things closer than he liked at times until he reached Ana and collapsed against her. He wasn't sure he could manage to get himself to walk anymore, much less run, and hoped she would be able to help him.

Ana very nearly motioned for him to quit, but some how he was able to move with accuracy, stopping just in time every single second someone moved a step out of place near him. She didn't know how he was doing it, but at that moment she didn't care. He was safe, and the second she felt his solid form drop against her, she couldn't control the tight hug that she wrapped him in.

"We gotta find a way out of here..." she whispered, able to keep her voice down low amongst all the yelling. Of course it was that very moment that someone went an insult too far and a sharp crack rang through the hollow of the warehouse, followed by two more, bullets ricocheting with clangs against the metal walls.

Instinctively Ana ducked down, pulling Nei'ess with her and keeping his head wrapped with her arms, one hand defensively out with the gun in a slightly awkward position. No one had seen them just yet, but someone was screaming bloody murder in pain, obviously struck by a stray or not-so-stray bullet.

The hug hurt, as did being shoved to the ground, but both actions reassured him. Even with the gunfire and the horrible images burning themselves into his mind, Nei'ess felt safe next to her. Getting out of here would be the best thing for them, though. There had to be a path... He made a small sign, pointing to a thin gap between crates that didn't look like it lead anywhere. There was enough space there for them to squeeze through and it turned and came out closer to the direction she had come from.

Ana's eyes followed the silent motion, green wavering slightly in momentary indecision. He was already so weakened, and the walk to her had nearly brought him to his knees. Pulling him along with support under his arms would have been too awkward, not to mention potentially noisy. She wasn't exactly strong, but Nei'ess was barely an inch and a half taller than her, not to mention skinny as a rail.

Lips set in a determined frown, and she gently guided him away from her, as much as she didn't want to, and gestured to her back, indicating to get on. If they were lucky, she could sneak both of them the few feet behind the crates and get Booker's help from there.

Dignity meant nothing in this situation and Nei'ess would have done far worse than accept a piggyback ride from a beautiful woman to escape. It took more concentration than usual to accomplish the relatively simple task of climbing on, but he managed it without attracting attention. He leaned against her warm back limply, his mind switching to the task of watching for trouble in the hopes of spotting it before they got shot. There was no dodging already moving bullets, after all, no matter whether he saw it coming or not.

He was frighteningly lighter than she was expecting, but it made Ana's task just that much easier. Nei'ess was situated in seconds, and with gun still in hand, though not nearly as ready as she would have liked, she quickly made for the crates. The gunfire had died again, as had the incessant wailing of whoever had gotten hit, but as before there was never a way to tell if that was a good sign or a bad sign.

Careful movements, light steps and the ever vigilant boy on her back saw them safely to where Ana had entered. Climbing back up the levels was a task, and more than once she almost dropped him, but soon she was at the window again, feeling blessed river-blown air caressing her face from the opening.

"Booker!" she hissed through the space, "Grab him!"

Hands reached through the window, grabbing the kid and roughly heaving him up and out, Booker choosing speed over gentleness. Ana's comment had come in a lull in the noise and echoed enough to turn some of those gun-carrying maniacs in their direction. He ducked out of sight, cradling Nei'ess and bringing him down onto the top of the dumpster, with a quick, "Ana, get down!" before they started firing.

"SHIT!" Ana shrieked, throwing herself down on her belly as the bullets zoomed just past her head, missing her by mere inches. They thunked loudly in to the metal just above the window, by some miracle missing the glass. One hand went over her head, the other jerking out as she took badly aimed potshots at the gang members. The ones from Rumrunners distinguished themselves badly from their adversaries, as they were the first ones to flee the wild shots, the members of Purgatory seeming far too furious and determined to give up on a new target.

"Damnit! Booker! Get those useless PD to storm the place already!" she barked over the gunfire.

Torn between staying to cover his partner and following her logical command, Booker wrenched himself away from the window and jumped down to the ground. He paused to look at the kid laying on top of the dumpster and hissed a thin warning to him. "You better not die, kid. Just stay put. Everything will be alright."

Nei'ess found it hard to share the optimism of the man as Booker dashed off towards the front, disappearing around a corner. He could see Ana, so close behind a wall that was far too tall and bullets everywhere. Reaching her physically was impossible, but he owed her. She had come to get him out.

Wrapping his magic around another person wasn't hard, just awkward from lack of practice. The colors flickered in the air for a moment before settling to render Ana invisible. The shooting stopped in confused shouts, the gangsters trying to figure out what to make of her disappearance. Before any of them could probe the seemingly-empty air under the window with more bullets, the front door burst open and a tear gas grenade began filling the room with painful smoke.

Ana didn't dare question what the hell had just happened. She wanted to, with logic already so tenuous in the situation they'd gotten themselves into, but reason knocked her squarely on the head and told her to just be grateful she hadn't gotten herself shot after all. She threw her sleeve-covered arm over her mouth and nose as the acrid, yellow-hued gas billowed from the hissing canister and dragged herself to the window, coughing with just the faintest burning in her eyes.

Blessed fresh air met her face as she tumbled out onto the dumpster rather ungracefully, landing on her back with a short wheeze of breath knocked from her. Panting, trying to draw air back in to her aching lungs, she rolled her head slightly and smiled weakly up at Nei'ess. "Not bad for a scientist with a gun, yeah?"

He had his eyes closed again, feeling horrible, but Nei'ess managed a thin smile and reached out to lay a hand on her shoulder. Wishing she knew enough sign language for him to express his thanks and happiness that she survived, he just settled for giving her shoulder a slight squeeze before curling back up into a ball.

Booker came racing back around the corner, stopping at the foot of the dumpster and resting his hands on his knees to catch his breath. After a moment, he reached out to poke Ana in the side. "Don't scare me like that. I couldn't see you anymore when they tossed the grenade and thought they had managed to kill you. Guess I should have realized by now that you have more luck and lives than a damn cat."

"Ehn, don't poke me. I'll break your finger," Ana grumbled, though she was clearly lacking the usual gusto with which she threatened him. More sirens approached from other streets, bellowing loud through the narrow corridors that laced through the many abandoned and used warehouses. Seeing that as the sign to go, Ana rolled over and slipped off the dumpster lid, turning to help Nei'ess down.

Seeing how awkwardly the kid was moving, Booker came and took the other side with a frown, lifting Nei'ess down to the ground. As soon as Booker let go, Nei'ess started to fall over and the older man grabbed him again. A survey of the injuries made Booker sigh and glare at the warehouse and the gangsters who had been in there. How dare they do something like this? "We better get you to a hospital, Nei'ess."

At the mere word 'hospital,' Nei'ess tensed up, shaking his head and nearly passing out. He stuck out the middle and index finger of his right hand and ran them along the inside of his left forearm, the sign for hospital, shaking his head the whole time and trying to back away. He was far too weak to break out of Booker's hold, which was just as well. There was little chance of him being able to stand steadily on his own.

Booker was already moving him towards the alleyway exit, paying no heed to his near frantic motions, but Ana did see them. She had absolutely no clue what the motion along his arm meant, but guessing from the head shake she easily pieced it together as a plea not to be taken to the hospital.

"Booker, wait," she said sternly, halting both of them by pulling on Booker's shoulder.

Pausing, Booker looked back at Ana. The expression on her face was stubborn, which meant he was not likely going to like what she was about to say. He glanced at Nei'ess' frantic motions, well aware he shouldn't be shaking his head like that. "What?"

Ana pushed past him and went to stand in front of Nei'ess, watching him with pursed lips and a slightly frightened look about her. She knew it was stupid, but after everything she'd already done for the kid, after all the things she'd done to put her ass on the line for him, one more step wouldn't be the one to kill her.

Taking care not to bump or press on a wound, she gently lifted one hand to his face to get him to focus on her, making sure his dark eyes were locked on hers before speaking softly.

"I've got a friend who's a doctor and will do anything I say, no questions asked. He knows how to be discrete, and he won't take you to the hospital. If I take you home and have him look at you, can you promise me that you'll be honest about whatever injuries you have? He can only treat you as far as you'll let him, and anything less is going to put you right where you don't want to be. Understand?"

Nei'ess nodded and reached out a hand to cling to her wrist desperately. It could still end up going badly but it was easier to escape from someone's house than a hospital. Less fuss was made about it. It wasn't the help he objected to, just the tendency of doctors and scientists to treat him as a research subject. He met her eyes with his own in gratitude, trying to convey his sincerity.

Opening his mouth to object, Booker broke off and released the boy to fall against Ana. They had already done enough bad things today that this might make it simpler for all he knew. That and he looked at the blood on the boy's face with its rainbow sheen, and those eyes which were far less human than he expected. Those traits probably had something to do with Nei'ess' fear of hospitals. "Alright. I seem to be out-voted. I'll drive to your place then and let you watch him."

"Thank you, Booker. If... if Hex asks about any of this, just have him call me, okay?" Ana asked, tossing the car keys to him as she took Nei'ess carefully from his grasp and guided him to the awkwardly stopped SUV still sitting in the road.

Orders were being yelled in front of the warehouse as the remaining thugs were dragged out, groggy, teary eyed and cuffed, the crackle of static on CBs and sirens of ambulances and more cruisers the background beat and music to it all. As the three unnoticed individuals piled into the car, Ana narrowed her eyes at a few of the unlucky Rumrunners that were already being pulled out of the building on stretchers, the telltale black bags around them marking their fate.

No amount of soul searching dredged up a true feeling on the situation. Things had been so turned upside down in the past few days that Ana wasn't even sure where her heart truly lay anymore. Owen's words rang painfully true - she wasn't of use to anyone if she didn't know what she was doing. That alone was enough to bring a soft, uncertain sigh from her parted lips as Nei'ess lay heavy against her side, eyes closed but quite possibly still awake regardless.

There was a high chance no matter how much bullshit she threw on the story, Rory would still see to it she got suspended, if not something worse, and her heart ached at the single realization that she wasn't entirely certain she cared anymore.

It was too hard for Nei'ess to stay conscious now that he was out of immediate danger but he clung to Ana's arm, even as he passed out. Booker tried to drive carefully, listening to the sound of rushing air through the broken window. This case was mostly over, but the mess continued on. Cleaning everything up completely, presenting the evidence, all that would take a longer time than he cared to admit. He just hoped that they all still had jobs after this fiasco.

No words were exchanged during the drive, Booker being in a non-talkative mood, and they pulled up to the front of Ana's house in relatively short order. He leaned on the wheel after parking. "Need help getting him inside or anything?"

Ana had slipped into her own little world, so completely exhausted that she could barely keep her focus on anything for longer than a few seconds. She'd already gone to the trouble of texting her doctor friend, and the response had been sent shortly after, leaving nothing but her scattered, fractured thoughts for her to sit with during the ride. Booker's voice snapped her back to reality, at least momentarily, and she nodded slowly, kind of stuck until Nei'ess was moved from her side.

Booker chuckled at Ana being trapped in the car by a man clinging to her. It seemed somehow appropriate. A moment's work freed her from Nei'ess' grip though, the boy far too light in Booker's arms. "Damn, doesn't this kid eat? I can almost feel every bone in his body, it seems."

He walked over to the door, leaning against the side of the house until Ana unlocked it. This had been a long enough day already, without enough sleep, and he wanted to get everything squared away properly.

"I don't think he does..." Ana mumbled absently, fumbling weakly with her keys until the right one slipped into the slot and turned the tumblers, letting the door swing open and Booker get by with his load.

"I've got a guestroom. Upstairs. It's not very big, and the bed isn't made, but I guess that's the best place to put him," she added, rubbing a hand roughly across her face. "I'll get blankets for him..."

The house was simply enough laid out that finding the guest room wasn't hard. Booker laid Nei'ess on the bed and then stopped in a bathroom to grab some towels to clean him up a bit. When Ana entered with the blankets, he stopped and sighed. "I'm going to head back to the office. I'll take a taxi, leave you your car. Someone needs to tell Rory about this and I figure since it was my idea, it might as well be me."

Uncharacteristically meek and quiet, Ana fidgeted with the blankets hesitantly before going to lay them over Nei'ess with a careful ease. Back turned to Booker, hand occupied by gently and absently pushing some of Nei'ess' unruly bangs away from his eyes, she sighed and softly said, "Don't take the fall for me, Book. Whatever happens... I'm just as much to blame for all this. I'll take whatever punishment Rory is going to dish out."

It didn't suit Ana to be so serious and Booker decided to alleviate the mood by batting her a little on the head. "Don't worry. You know how much I enjoy having... discussions with Rory. I'll come out of this alright and so will you, if you can keep your temper for once."

He paused and looked at the bed with a wry smile. Ana trying to take care of anything sounded like the start of a bad joke to him. "Either way, I suggest you take some time off if you're going to be looking after him. Given his track record, he's likely to disappear as soon as he can walk on his own, but don't scare him anymore."

Ana didn't respond at first, but an almost unheard 'I'll try not to' floated softly from the bedside where she still stood. She was changing, the events of the past few days spurring on something new inside her to take root, but it was impossible to tell if that would have been a good thing or a bad thing so early in the game.

That was likely the best he'd get for now and Booker headed out, calling for a taxi on his cell phone. He nearly ran into another man on the doorstep, the doctor Ana had called for, and Booker directed him upstairs before heading to the street corner to wait.

Eric Kae, a no longer licensed doctor who pretty much owed Ana his entire life, and then some, muttered out a flustered apology as he nearly plowed into Booker, ducking into the house with a fairly sheepish expression. The conversation with Ana was brief, only as long as it needed to be before he had his supplies out and was treating Nei'ess, silent and efficient as he worked. Ana kept a vigil by the door, hovering but not interfering no matter how much she wanted to. She was beyond worried, almost certain that Eric would turn to her and say there was nothing he could do. She'd begun fearing taking Nei'ess to a hospital almost as much as he feared it himself, and that alone nearly scared her more than the thought of him dying because of what had happened.

Having someone touch him, caring for wounds with medical efficiency, brought Nei'ess awake out of nightmares from his past. He didn't recognize the man treating him, but given Ana's attitude, this must be the doctor she promised who wouldn't ask questions. Cracking his eyes open, Nei'ess shrank away from the doctor's examination, looking past him to Ana and weakly miming writing to ask for pen and paper.

Ana nodded and vanished from the door way just long enough to head into her nearby bedroom where she also housed her small office. Pen and paper retrieved, she slipped back in and past Eric, handing the items to Nei'ess.

"He'll tell you what got injured," she informed her friend. "Anything that you didn't treat yet, he can let you know."

Nei'ess glanced at Ana sharply. He should have realized that someone who made a living solving mysteries would be able to tell what he could do. There was no hiding his sight from her now, so why bother? Focusing on the image of his body, something he knew very well by now, Nei'ess made a short list on the paper and tossed it down on the blankets in front of him.

63 BRUISES, NONE SERIOUS
42 CUTS, 3 SERIOUS (HEAD, RIGHT SHOULDER AND ARM)
CRACKED RIB, RIGHT SIDE, THIRD FROM BOTTOM
CONCUSSION

Eric visibly balked at the list, jerking around to stare at Ana with a slack jawed gape, finger gesturing at the list sitting on the fuzzy fleece blanket.

"A-Ana..." he croaked, pleading with her from behind his glasses for some sort of logical explanation.

"Don't throw a fit, Eric," she snapped sternly, a hint of her old attitude seeping back through the thin veil of uncertainty that had been lingering. "I told you everything you needed to know in my message. Just do it."

Taking up an old, painted-white wooden chair from a matching letter table in the room, she dropped down into it and folded her arms over her chest, marking the end of the decidedly one-sided conversation. Eric's jaw snapped shut and he sighed, seeming to have a slew of things he could have said about her and the situation at the moment, but going the smart route of keeping them to himself instead.

It was unnervingly easy to treat the boy after that. Between the list and the fact that he couldn't actively complain even if he wanted to, the long list was made short work of, and within the next hour Eric had done everything he could possibly do in the way of home base remedy. Nei'ess wasn't going to die, not by a long shot, but he was going to be laid up in that bed for quite some time.

"This is all I can give you for now," he told her, handing her a few bottles of medication as well as various ointments and new bandages as they stood on the lower floor at the door. "It'll take me a day at least to get through my channels to get you proper prescriptions called in, but I'll text you once I've got them ordered. Are you sure you're going to be alright, Ana?"

The woman shrugged, resting lazily against the door frame, really just too tired to keep standing upright anymore. She turned a languid gaze to the floor, watching as the shadows and light danced across the living room carpet from the curtains fluttering slightly in the warm breeze. "All that's left now is to face the music."

Eric frowned, but found he could offer no words of wisdom to his long time friend. Unable to even so much as comfort her, he allowed for a stiff hug and left, the fading roar of his car down the road leaving nothing but a hollow, distant echo in the silent house.

Ana didn't seem to be paying any attention to him, her mind lost in thought and spacing out. Normally Nei'ess would be content to be ignored but he wanted to say something before he got too awkward or had to run away. He wrote THANK YOU on the sheet of paper, folded it into a paper airplane, and tossed it at her. It missed, hitting the wall behind her and circling down to land by her feet.

The noise was enough to snap her back to attention, head turning as she watched the decent of the paper plane. Her lips pulled lightly in to a tired smile as she went to grab it, unfolding the paper with a crinkling sound. She returned to the room from the hallway, paper in hand as she took the chair up again.

"Actually, I feel like I should be thanking you..."

He had lied to her, run from her, hidden and caused her trouble. She had just been doing her job and then went a risked her life to get him out of there for no reason he could see. What could she possibly have to thank him for? It made him nervous when he couldn't understand someone's motivations. Too many people were only truly out for themselves and stopped treating him as human once they knew as much of his odd abilities as she did.

Nei'ess reached for the paper, almost taking it from her hands and then stopping. Writing hurt, moving hurt. It was easier to abandon all pretense and do things the easy way. No one would believe her if she told them about it. The words spread themselves out under his fingertips, written as if by a ghost on the sheet of paper.

WHY DO YOU HELP ME? AND WHAT COULD YOU POSSIBLY HAVE TO THANK ME FOR? IT WAS MY OWN FAULT THAT I WAS THERE AND YOU SAVED ME.

Tired as she was, it took Ana's mind several passing seconds to register that he wasn't even using a pen. And though a slow sense of awe did come over her, she'd also long ago come to several conclusions about the boy and what, exactly, he was, making it that much less of a surprise that he was even able to do that. Still, she dared to touch the paper, to feel and trace along the words, feeling nothing but its fibers beneath her finger.

The chance to answer was lost, however, when her phone buzzed and rang noisily from her hip. It was Hex calling.

As soon as Ana answered, her brother started in on his information-filled folder. "You know, some of that crap Booker insisted I dig through wasn't actually crap? I had to go over all of it three times, once under blacklight, but I found more prints. Only problem is, they were all Clain's. And speaking of prints, that sheet you had me run was more of the same. I brought up his record, and it turns out he was in about five or six years ago for possession and use of PCP and cocaine."

The last came with a proud note at the end, Hex pleased with the relatively quick work he'd done, especially with something so important.

"I figured it had to be at least five years ago," Ana responded. "And he seemed like a loner. I doubted there was going to be anything other than his own prints in there. He didn't even talk to his family anymore. ... damn, I still have to notify them."

Whatever response she had expected was replaced with silence from the other end of the line. If it wasn't for the lack of dial tone, it may as well have been a dropped call. Finally, though, Hex seemed to find his voice again. "...What? You already knew all that? Why did you have me run all that stuff if it-... You liar!"

Wincing at the sudden rise in voice, Ana held the phone away from her ear, a frustrated noise escaping her.

"I am not a liar, Hex. I did need those run, for... well... the reason isn't relevant right now! I still needed it done. And... thank you for doing it for me. Are you going to keep throwing a fit about it? It's not helping any."

"You said it was important! You made it seem like it couldn't wait, so I set aside the other lab work I was doing and did that, instead. My cultures went bad. I had to redo them three times, and then they didn't even turn out, so I had to gather more samples and that made the CSI-1 I was helping get pissed. Besides, you made me hang up on-"

"CSI-1's always get pissy about things, bro. Its just a fact of life. One bad day in the lab isn't going to kill you." Ana interrupted, rolling her eyes in Nei'ess' direction. "Again, it was important. And I'll tell you about it later, okay?"

Hex just snorted, obviously unamused by Ana's excuses. "You'll tell me about it when you get back here. Which should be soon, by the way, seeing as Chief was stomping around looking for you. He got angry at me, too, you know, for not knowing where you were. So now you get to talk to him."

"...Crap," Ana breathed, pulling back on the rather vulgar swear she actually wanted to say. She glanced at Nei'ess again and rubbed a hand across her face. She knew it wasn't going to be nearly as easy as she thought when dealing with the aftermath of it all. "Okay, tell him I'll be there in half an hour. And watch out, he's got a mean right hook if you piss him off enough."

Without waiting for any sort of response - though she was certain she could hear the start of him attempting to sputter through an irritated ramble - Ana hung up the phone and gave her guest a weak smile.

"I... have to go back to the office. They're asking for me. I doubt I'll be long, though. Will you be alright here alone?"

This was a nice house, with locked doors and a security system, belonging to a cop. There was food here, if he could manage to make himself move that far and convince himself he was allowed to eat it, and he was as comfortable as could be expected with his injuries. Nei'ess' usual standards were much lower than this. He raised an eyebrow and nodded slowly, trying not to disturb the bandages on his head.

After a second, he tapped the paper and looked away, a new message written there. ARE YOU IN TROUBLE?

Normally one who could school her emotions to perfection, especially during an ongoing investigation, Ana still failed to control the wince that ran across her face at his question. Still, she lied, if only to assuage whatever guilt he had, guilt that she rightfully felt shouldn't be there.

"No. They just need to ask me what happened. Usual protocol."

Nei'ess didn't believe her, but there was nothing he could do anyway. Whatever happened would happen and he'd just have to pay her back somehow. He didn't like owing a favor of this magnitude to someone, even someone as apparently deserving as Ana. A soft huff of breath, not quite a sigh, came from him and he nodded once more before tucking up under the blankets and letting her leave.

It wasn't like there was anything more to say to him, but Ana still lingered, both procrastinating her return to CSI and not wanting to leave him there alone even if he said he would be fine. Reasons for staying only held out as long as she could take the uncomfortable silence that had settled over them, and finally she stood and bid him farewell.

That didn't stop her from taking the long way back to the office.

***

Like an inmate on death row, Ana made the long walk down the hall, boots echoing loudly on the tile floor and the eyes of her coworkers staring at her mournfully. She was destined for the guillotine, and Rory had done a good job making sure everyone knew.

At the closed door to his office, she paused, fidgeted with her wrinkled shirt and dusted off her jeans. A weak attempt to look presentable while facing her doom.

As ready as she could ever be, she knocked lightly and waited for a response from the other side.

An authoritative "Enter" met her knock and Ana opened the door and stepped inside. The manager lounged behind his desk, sitting tensely in an office chair and regarding her from beneath the edge of his pinstriped fedora. A wave of his hand indicated that she should close the door, a flimsy gesture towards privacy given the usual volume their meetings rose to.

"Well," Rory began, drawing the words out as he watched her and leaned back, "Color me surprised. After your recent actions, I was beginning to wonder if you would actually heed my order and grace us with your presence. Care to explain yourself?"

His tone and posture were as polite and restrained as most people saw him, but there was also that hissing undertone that preceded his violent rants. Her choices lately had far more than disappointed him and Rory clearly intended to make that fact known.

"I'd rather not," Ana stated defiantly, though, as before, there was something lacking. She dropped into the chair after the door was firmly closed, folding her arms across her chest and glancing at the far wall, frowning in disdain at the number of accolades Rory had meticulously framed and hung there. "The fact that I have to answer to your pompous ass is punishment enough, I think."

As always, the woman was proving herself infuriating and lacking any shred of common sense or tact. If Ana ever just submitted to the rules of the job properly, Rory thought she'd make a halfway decent investigator, but as things were, he wished the rules allowed for the necessity of knocking some sense into someone more forcibly. "Insults and insubordination already. Trying to beat your last record? Very well, then."

Rory stood up, his hands braced on the desk in front of him and glowering down at Ana. "I've already forced some of the facts out of Booker, annoying enough challenge to get anything out of that trickster. Ever since you started this current case, you've been acting like a madwoman. You go off on your own to do gods know what while on the clock, fail to properly conduct yourself as an investigator, go out on the job while emotionally distressed, and then this last hullabaloo. You and Booker know better than to interfere with police business like that. You could have gotten yourselves killed and everyone with you and for what? To act like damned heroes and pull someone out of there?"

By now he was pacing and ranting at an increasing volume without giving her a chance to respond. She'd had her chance to explain things away and now she was stuck hearing the version that left him with. "Someone, I might add, who is at least a witness, possibly a suspect, and injured from the confused reports I got, but not admitted to the hospital nor brought in here for questioning. When those gangsters go up for trial soon, I hope you will produce this person. It's damned hard enough as it is to pin them down and I don't give a flying fuck about your personal reasons when they interfere with this business!"

The ranting promptly went in one ear and right out the other, Ana's green eyes rolling as he went on and on, seeming to have enough hot air in him to lift a balloon right off the ground with it. Chin propped in her fist, gaze only flickering to him for those few scant seconds he chose to pause, only to continue on again undaunted. "And you think I care? About your opinion on all this, I mean. 'Cause, quite frankly, after everything I've been through, I don't. Hell, the only person in this damn office that commands any respect at all barely even speaks, and personally, I'm starting to see the value in that. Words are pretty damn overrated, Rory. I think you're the only person that hasn't realized that... not that it would matter to you."

An odd twitch started at the corner of one of Rory's eyes and he turned away to get himself under control. He really shouldn't let her get under his skin like this all the time, but she deserved everything that was coming to her. Gritting his teeth and rounding on her again, Rory slammed a notice on the desk in front of her. "If words don't matter, maybe this will. You're suspended until further notice. Have complete reports on this whole mess in my office by tomorrow and then go fuck off somewhere else for a while until you learn how to behave yourself properly."

"Fine! Great!" Ana snapped, the already frayed end of her nerves crumbling just that little bit more. She rose and snatched the notice off the desk, slamming the chair into the front of it with a resounding crash, causing a few items on there to rattle. "I consider it a vacation to get away from you! Maybe if you cared half as much about the victims of these situations as you do about your damn position in this office, people around here might actually like you. But of course, that would be too much for the great, powerful, and eternally lonely Rory Dunkirk, wouldn't it!?"

Rory had more restraint than to drop to her level of abusing the furniture but it didn't mean he didn't have an urge to throw something large and heavy at her head. For someone so intelligent, she just didn't get it. "How lonely or powerful I might be is of no concern to this discussion. I see more cases cross this desk in a day than you see in a week. If you've got time to wail about the victims, I suggest you spend it in contemplation of what it means to be a CSI."

He dropped back into his chair, stiff as a board, and spoke in a voice full of disdain. "Enjoy your 'vacation.' You're dismissed."

"I have contemplated plenty, Rory," Ana hissed back, "And I have realized more about life in the past two days than you ever will in your entire lifetime! Have fun dealing with my paperwork."

With those as her final, hate-filled words, Ana marked her exit by slamming his door as hard as she could possibly manage, the entire hallway echoing with the loud sound and several heads turning in her direction.

Fuming, she clenched her fists at her sides, stomped one foot childishly, and stormed away, vowing that Rory would not be the one to win in this situation, even if she didn't know how exactly she was going to accomplish that.

For now, though, home was the only place she wanted to be...

***

Bullets pass through the body when they hit if the shot is right, punching through and tearing up the flesh with their velocity. Blood pours from both sides, where it entered and where it exited, leaving pain and gore and turning his stomach again and again. Dead, wounded, dying, doomed, rewind history and see it again. Hands grabbing, punching, kicking, laughing faces of men who would see him dead. Old memories of another time and a knife to his neck, blood spilling out on the floor, his blood, fleeing but no release.

Nei'ess thrashed in the bed, shaking and mouth open. Had the option been available, he would have whimpered or screamed, even trapped in the depths of a dream. How could anyone understand what it meant for his memories to haunt him when every detail in his mind was as fresh as if it was happening at that very moment? There were times when he swore that he was going to just go mad to escape from it all.

Ana's finger had turned red from how hard she'd chewed on it, watching Nei'ess thrash from the doorway of the guestroom. Her face was pinched, tears burning in her eyes, but she couldn't make up her mind about going in. She knew about nightmares, about memories becoming monsters when the eyes were closed, but that didn't mean she had any idea how to deal with someone else being the one to suffer at the gripping claws of terror that happened when sleep kicked in.

Eventually she couldn't take it anymore, and though she really had no idea what it would do, especially with his obviously inhuman traits, she slipped in past the doorway and took the seat that had been left there when she'd gone to the office. Carefully, with some hesitation, she placed her hand over his thin fingers and curled her own around them, giving the most reassuring squeeze she could manage. Her heart ached, seeing him like that, thrashing about and unable to even cry out in his fear, and all she could do was touch him, let him know that she was there.

Fingers brushed through his bangs, across his damp brow, the wavering hum of a soothing childhood song starting in her throat. The sound was thick. She'd already lost so much emotional stability that keeping the tears at bay had become impossible.

The touch stilled him, eyes flying open and staring blankly at the ceiling for a moment before turning on her. Nei'ess still trembled slightly, panting, but it shamed him that someone had seen him like this. His terrors were his own burden.

Still, even as he pulled into himself and tried to pretend nothing was wrong, he found he couldn't let go of her hand, clinging to it despite himself. Her presence was a comfort, perhaps thinking hopefully that she'd save him again. The paper had fallen to the floor at some point, but Nei'ess felt no urge to retrieve it. If he talked, she was far too likely to ask what he dreamed of.

Ana tried to smile, tried to give some of that attention that her own mother always used to give to her when her nightmares caused her to scream in terror, but what came out was a wince, a grimace of an expression with tears that escaped and slipped free. Embarrassed of her own weakness, she turned her head away and sniffled, rubbing her free arm across her face to banish them.

"H-hey..." she mumbled hoarsely, not expecting a response, written or otherwise.

She got one, even though he knew she wouldn't know what it meant. Nei'ess made a fist and moved it in a circle over his chest. It was an apology, though he couldn't quite say for what. As he started to sign a question, he winced and just gestured to the paper on the floor. Sign language really only worked well when the person had some sort of clue. He didn't want to talk about the dreams, but the phone call earlier had left some unanswered questions when it interrupted.

Seeing the motion for the fallen paper, Ana sniffled again and reached for it, reluctantly detaching her hand from his. She handed it to him after smoothing it out some, spending a little too much time fiddling with the curled edges of it. She knew what he wanted to bring up again, but she had lost the answer somewhere between yelling at Rory and coming home in an angered frenzy.

When she didn't answer him, Nei'ess didn't press the issue. Given how much he hated being asked questions that there was no good answer too, it didn't seem fair to do the same to someone else. A small gesture wiped the page completely clean and he just tried to express himself as best he could in his current messed-up state.

THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO DIE. CAN'T SAY HOW HAPPY I WAS TO SEE YOU, WHETHER YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE THERE OR NOT... YOU'RE A GOOD COP. I HOPE YOU DON'T GET INTO TOO MUCH TROUBLE OVER THIS. YOU SEEM... SAD.

She took the page again, laying it on her lap while continuing to press down on the edges as if anything less than perfection from it was unacceptable. Another sniff, and she cleared her throat before speaking. "I'm... just... a little confused. About myself. Like... I'm not sure if I'm the same person. Like... I changed a long time ago and I didn't realize it until now."

Pressing her lips together, she dug deep and tried to dredge up what it was she wanted to tell him before, having to force away the echo of Rory's voice in her mind to do so. "I thanked you because you opened my eyes to something I'd been ignoring. I got so wrapped up in- in the job... the evidence. All of it. I stopped believing in people, trusting that they had anything good left in them. The victims were just victims that I had to stop sympathizing with because I let it hurt too much, and everyone else was one of two things - a piece of evidence or a suspect. Everyone lied, no one told the truth, only the evidence ever came through loud and clear. Words were meaningless, because words could be false and true, but I stopped wanting to see any shred of truth in any case. For some reason... all you had to do was write something down on paper, and it was suddenly like being blindsided by a truck going sixty. The world isn't black, white, or gray. It's... it's everything. All colors. If... I hadn't met you, I would have kept going like that until I self-destructed."

Nei'ess listened the whole time she talked. Her words made him feel guilty for the lies he had told out of necessity, or perhaps just fear. No one had ever said anything like this to him at all and it was hard to think of a response, even if he wasn't dead-tired and feeling horrible. When words failed him, he decided all he really wanted was to see this troubled lady smile.

The paper changed again, the words fading to be replaced by a silly smiley face edged in bright rainbows. Happy images of flowers, bunnies, and sunshine appeared around it, remind Nei'ess of an illustration from a children's book. It captured the right feeling though, as silly as it was, and he ducked his head under the blanket so she couldn't see that he was embarrassed by the gesture.

At first, all Ana could do was blink at the odd pictures on the paper, having not expected something so... childish to have appeared in place of words. Slowly, though, a faint smile pulled at the corner of her mouth, and she looked up at him, letting out a thick, teary laugh upon seeing him beneath the blanket.

As good as it felt, though, she had a difficult time keeping it going, though the smile remained long after the laugh faded in to the silence once more.

"Wanna hear something funny?"

Barely peeking his nose out from under the covers, Nei'ess nodded. Ana really did look much nicer when she smiled. Much less likely to chase you down and kill you, like she looked sometimes when on the job.

The smile on her face widened, and she scratched at her cheek idly, seeming both proud and ashamed of her next words. "I told my boss... 'words are overrated'."