Jack gasped as Kieran pushed him back, and he stared at the ruined window display in shock. A large trash can rocked back and forth on its side and was kicked out of the way as a large man came through the window.

"I… I know that guy," Jack whispered. "He works for…" He trailed off as the memories escaped him. He could have sworn he knew who the man was a moment ago. It was like forgetting a word that he'd used before. It was right there. He knew the feel of it, but he could no longer form the word or really define it. He was shaken from his thoughts and stumbled as Kieran shoved him behind a display case.

The man raised his arm, pointing a gun at Kieran. "You got something that don't belong to you, buddy."

Kieran's lip curled in disgust. "And what would that be?"

Jack cried out when the gun fired. Kieran stumbled back and crashed into a display case, clutching the side of his neck.

"K-Kieran?"

"Run. Back door," he rasped. "Keys—"

Jack flinched back as another shot rang out, and blood bloomed from the center of Kieran's chest. He scrambled back and fell as the gunman stepped over Kieran's fallen body. He struggled to stand and moved to get another case between them. Anything to buy a little more time. He hit a wall and edged along it.

"C'mon, Sparky. Don't make this more difficult."

Ice enveloped Jack's right hand, and he quickly glanced down. Just beside him, a case of knives and daggers sat wide open, offering a variety of weapons to choose from. He grabbed what he hoped was the sharpest dagger and held it in front of himself as he edged along the case. "Leave me alone! The cops know I'm here!"

The man laughed as he advanced on Jack. "As if that's gonna matter," he said as he holstered his gun. He leaned back as Jack made a swipe at him. "Shoulda spent your free time learning to fight, kiddo!"

Jack pressed himself back against the case, its edge digging into his lower back. He swallowed and reached back with his left hand and found the handle of a knife just as the man grabbed his right wrist and squeezed. He clenched his eyes shut and struck out blindly.

The hand holding his wrist loosened. A strangled gurgling made him look up to see the damage he'd caused, torn between the thought of being successful and causing harm to another living creature.

The man's hand was pressed tightly against his throat, but it did nothing to stop the swift flow of blood. He fell forward, and Jack skittered out of the way, his heels slipping in the growing pool of blood.

He fell to the floor and dragged himself further away. His back hit the side of an old loveseat, and he pressed himself against it, hugging his knees to his chest as he gasped for breath.

"Jack! You okay?"

He looked up, expecting to console a distraught Lindsey. His eyes widened as a shadow solidified into something resembling her familiar appearance.

He was met with blood. So much blood, he could barely make it Lindsey's features. Part of her skull was missing, and a long gash ran from her left shoulder to her right hip.

He could see her ribs.

She knelt before him, raising her hands as she spoke softly. "No, no, no. It's okay. I'm okay, and you're okay. This is the best I can do right now, Jack. I'm so sorry! Trust me, I can't hurt you. I don't even wanna hurt you."

Jack shook his head, leaning as far as he could from her. Fingers were missing from her left hand, and she had a bone protruding from her right forearm. "What happened to your hand? Oh, god, your face! Your head! How are you alive?!"

"I'm not alive. Haven't been for a while. I'm sorry," she said. "I don't feel anything, so it's okay."

"It's not okay! It's not okay!" Jack screamed. He tucked his head between his knees and covered his head with his arms. "Fuck! Nothing's okay! I can see your ribs! Your guts! No, no, no, no! I'm crazy! I'm still fucking crazy! Just let me be crazy! This isn't… This isn't real."

"Jack? Jack, my sweet, please look at me."

Looking up at the sound of Kieran's voice; relief flooded him that he could no longer see Lindsey. He had to be hallucinating. Kieran had just been knocked out, and the stress was getting to Jack. He cringed away as Kieran knelt before him.

"He shot you!" Jack reached out to touch Kieran's bloody neck, but quickly snatched his hand back. Blood covered the front of Kieran's shirt. Was he still hallucinating, or was something else going on? Kieran shouldn't be able to move around so easily with a chest wound.

"Yes, he did. But he didn't get you, and that's what matters," Kieran said, his voice soft and reassuring. "Jack, please look at me. Look at me, Jack. My sweet, sweet siren. It's alright."

Jack pulled his eyes away from Kieran's neck. He wanted to make light of the situation and tease Kieran for the thicker accent, but he became trapped in Kieran's gaze. The world fell away and didn't need to make sense anymore. He threw himself into the feeling, grateful for the sliver of sanity it offered. Things would work out. Kieran would take care of him, but was Kieran okay?

And even if everything worked out in the end, that wouldn't help Lindsey. She was a ghost. No, she was alive. She was fine. He'd seen her yesterday. She hadn't been at the store when he arrived today. She missed out on him venting about the maintenance worker that kicked one of his CD cases. They called him to apologize when he was halfway to Kieran's.

He couldn't recall if he'd gotten an annoyed or amused vibe from Kieran. He did get a glass of wine, though. And a couch to crash on. He kinda liked Kieran's couch. It was more comfortable than an old mattress sitting on the floor. He should really get back to sleep.

Everything would be okay when he woke up.