The following day news of Joseph’s death leached fully into the public consciousness. There was only so long that they could contain it, and both Lysander and Miria agreed that the populace deserved to know about the change in leadership. Unrest swirled through the streets, gaining traction like a snowball hurtling down a mountainside. Small uprisings popped up as people tried to take advantage of the power vacuum, but they were just as swiftly cut down by Anthony Campbell and his Barrier Patrol, though Lysander didn’t know that at the time. The first week after the assassination was spent holed up at the estate under Anthony’s orders, citing dangers in the streets. From Anthony’s caution, Lysander was able to piece together that Anthony still suspected Joseph died of something other than purely natural causes and wanted to spare his niece a similar fate. Lysander was able to sneak out at night to care for Bingley and the cats, but otherwise he spent all of his time with Miria in varying attitudes of grief and funeral planning and somehow dodging Red. He doubted she would risk appearing at the estate with BP still swarming around and the building full of staff, but he was surprised that he was able to get away with not running into her during his sojourns home. Maybe she had recognized his need for space, after all? Or maybe she had changed her mind and wanted to kill him too. Whatever it was, Lysander was grateful that he didn’t have to confront her or his own complicated feelings. He had enough to worry about without her shoving his face in his mistakes. When it was just Miria and him, he was able to forget, even momentarily, that he was the cause for all of her sadness and the newfound pressure on her shoulders, and he could pretend to be the same person she had grown up with. Like an actor losing themselves in a role, he pressed down all his true feelings of guilt and shame and escaped into a persona that would actually be useful to her now.

Once Anthony released his brother’s body several days later, Miria made the arrangements to have him buried in the garden next to her mother’s body, commissioning a new shared tombstone for them. The burial took place under a cloudy April sky with only Miria, Lysander, Anthony and Julia in attendance. As the coffin disappeared into the earth, Miria gripped Lysander’s hand, her nails digging into the back of it. She took a long deep breath before letting go and turning away from the gravesite.

“That’s that then,” she said firmly before beginning to walk away. Lysander caught just a glimpse of her eyes and saw tears coalescing along her eyelids, but her expression was determined. Anthony took one last look at the marble headstone, his eyes tracing the names of his brother and sister-in-law before joining Miria, his long arm going around her shoulders. Julia placed a hand on Lysander’s upper arm, her whole facade a study in sympathy. Giving his arm one last pat, she followed the others inside, and Lysander thanked the gravediggers one last time and escaped into the house, practically feeling the ghost of his foster father dogging his steps, an imagined manifestation of all of his own haunted musings.

And then, at last, it was time to pull themselves together and return to work. Anthony gave the okay and pulled Lysander aside. This was the first time the older man had requested a private audience since this all began, which had surprised Lysander who had been sure that he would be blamed somehow (which wouldn’t have been inaccurate, but he figured Anthony would have placed a target on him even if it hadn’t been true).

Maybe it was finally time to face the reaper, as it were.

But no, Anthony only said, “Watch yourself out there, Lysander. Wouldn’t want to see anything happen to you.” The way he said it definitely made it seem like he thought the exact opposite, and it was sufficiently ominous, but Lysander just thanked him and left.

While Miria had made the decision to move home to the estate--she even made arrangements with her uncle to have people clear out her apartment since he wouldn’t let her out--Lysander would be going back to his apartment after work. As much as he wanted to be supportive, he needed time on his own to unpack his emotions. The estate had begun to feel stifling with someone always just around the corner to check on him or question him, even Miria beginning to feel more like a burden than a best friend as he hid under the layers of his lies.

At work, everyone walked on eggshells around them, and an undercurrent of tension about the future of the company--and thus their jobs--seemed to emanate from all the employees. Miria held meetings on every floor and explained that nothing was going to change for the immediate future, other than Lysander’s new job as her assistant. When they finally made it up to their old stomping grounds, Lysander’s feet hurt and he couldn’t imagine how Miria was still standing in her heels. As soon as they stepped off the elevator, Sam and Blair were there, as though they had been just standing around waiting for them. Rumors must have circulated up to them, and they chattered about not knowing what they were going to do without Lysander around, and that they would be there for them if they needed support and so on. Miria simply smiled and thanked them before moving into the break room where the rest of the floor staff was waiting.

The speech here was almost identical to what had been said on all the lower floors, but Miria also added that she would be hiring someone to fill her position as lead in finance, giving her old team priority for the job before looking outside the company.

Then, at last, they were alone on the top floor of the company, the doors to the other executive offices closed. As they walked to the end of the hallway, Lysander got the impression that Miria was the victim of some light hazing up here, which was only cemented further when they entered her new office and saw stacks of paperwork on her father’s once pristine desk. Sighing, she ran a hand over the top of her head, pushing the few flyaway strands back behind her ears. Walking to the desk, she placed a delicate fingertip onto the edge, almost as though she was afraid it might disappear if she pressed too hard. Before she could fully round it, she froze as her eyes settled on the single frame on the corner. Lysander had no clue which picture might be there, but from Miria’s tightened lips and distressed eyes, he guessed it stirred some memories.

“We look so dopey in this,” she said with a teary laugh, picking up the photograph and turning it for him to peruse.

There, he saw himself at twelve, preteen limbs just a smidge too long to look natural on his body, and he wanted to throw up or melt into the floor or maybe just disappear entirely.

How could Joseph Campbell plot his death and then come to work everyday and look at his stupid twelve year old face?

How could Lysander live with himself knowing he had condemned a man to death, a man who kept a photo of him--the only picture in the entire office--on his desk?

Giving a stifled chuckle, he took the frame from Miria and set it back down on the desk, facing her. “Yeah, I can’t believe that’s the picture he chose to keep up here.”

Smiling softly, she ran her fingers over her mother’s face behind the glass. “He probably liked the reminder of mom when she was healthy.”

“Right, that was the summer before she got sick for the first time. I forgot,” he admitted.

“Mm,” she affirmed before continuing, “Hey, thanks for today, Lys. It was nice to have you at my back. I kinda forgot how many people worked here.” Here, she let out a self-disparaging little giggle.

“It’s no trouble, Mir. It’s my job now to back you up. Not that it’s really work or anything to support you!” he backpedaled.

“Calm down, you goof. You’re free for the rest of the day, by the way. I know you wanted to get home and check the damage.”

As she spoke, he noticed for the first time the way the late afternoon sun slanted in through the windows at her back, and he recognized that it must be around the time he would usually be heading home after work.

“Are you sure? I don’t mind hanging around a little longer if you need help with this,” he said, gesturing at the piles of paperwork littering the space.

“Nah, it’s fine. I think I’ll just come in early and start on this tomorrow, honestly. It’s been a tough day already.” At this, she fingered the first document in the stack closest to her and curled her lip, exhaustion clear on her face. “Ugh, this week is gonna suck.”

He scoffed in reply. “No kidding. It already does, and it’s barely even started. Well, if you’re sure, then I’m gonna head out. Try to get some rest tonight, Mir.”

“You too. See you bright and early.”

“Yeah, see you in the morning.”

By the time he realized he was well and truly alone--and would be for the entire night--for the first time in a week, he was already boarding the train back to Mapleview. The realization relieved him until he thought of the long night he had ahead with his own thoughts. Then he just felt stressed and a little bit scared. He had no idea how to sort through any of the mire that bogged down his every step. He had to push through this, but he had no idea how. He could barely stomach the sight of himself in a mirror. His skin constantly felt too tight and itchy like a wool sweater that didn’t fit right, and most of the time he had to force down the disturbing desire to just wander away until he couldn’t find his way back.

But no, he owed it to Miria to help her now, to get her through this. Maybe once they figured out the city problem, he could allow himself to dissolve into dust. For now though, he had to keep it together. They hadn’t made much headway in regards to the resource issue. Miria had spent most of her time while they had been quarantined just notating the different graphs and charts that Tessa had left with her. As of now, she had told him their best bet was to try to find more cultivable land within the Barrier, which sounded obvious but she was having trouble thinking of a more elegant solution. They had time, though, and he knew he could help her with this, at least. He had to, for his own peace of mind.

Much to his chagrin, however, he saw someone sitting on the stoop in front of his front door when he arrived home. Thankfully, when the person turned at the sound of his footsteps, he saw that it was Ramon.

“Holy fuck, thank god. I thought I’d never catch you,” Ramon said as he lumbered to his feet. He brushed off his jeans and faced Lysander, “I’ve been dropping by most nights before heading to work to see you, but obviously you haven’t been around.”

“Oh yeah, I’ve been at the estate with Miria,” Lysander said as he moved around Ramon to the scanner. All he wanted was to curl up with Bingley in bed, have a good cry, maybe scream into his pillow a little, but he could play host for a little while.

“Makes sense. Fuck, man, I’m real sorry about your dad.” Ramon kicked the cement of the sidewalk as he said it, scuffing the toe of his boots.

“He wasn’t my dad.” He felt bad saying it even as it left his mouth, but he couldn’t stop it, placing distance between himself and the Campbell’s was all that was keeping him still functional.

“Right, right. Still though. Fucking sucks,” Ramon offered gruffly. “Have you seen that woman since it all went down?”

Lysander hadn’t told Ramon about the aftermath of his botched plan, but his friend had clearly pieced together the truth from what he had known about it. The last thing he wanted was to talk about Red, but he couldn’t just stonewall Ramon, not when the other man had been nothing but helpful.

“Yeah, once,” he admitted simply, not elaborating purposefully.

“Ooookay, not gonna touch that one, then,” Ramon quipped. “Well, I’m glad to see you’re alive, at least. We can catch up some other time.” With that, Ramon clapped Lysander on the shoulder and started to move away.

Simultaneously, Lysander let himself into his apartment, only to be confronted by the sight of Red and Noah in the middle of his living room floor petting his dog. No power in the world could stop his jaw from unhinging and dropping into the bowels of the earth.

“What the actual fuck?” Ramon piped up from behind him, shock gumming up Lysander’s mouth.

“Oh shit! You came home!” Red said, popping up from her spot.

“Yes, I live here,” Lysander muttered, giving a covert glance to the apartment number nailed next to his front door to assure himself that he did indeed have the right place.

“This is kinda embarrassing, then. I got the impression you wouldn’t be moving back here for a while, so Noah and I sorta started squatting here this afternoon.”

“What in the world made you think this was okay?”

“I mean, I just said, but yeah, I was keeping a watch on you and it seemed you were pretty tied up over at the Campbell place, so I thought it would be cool to use your apartment for a little.”

“Okay, ignoring the part where you admitted to stalking me again, you had to have seen me coming home at night then! So you had to have known I hadn’t abandoned the place!” he shouted, all his anger at her rushing into him with force.

“Whoa, whoa, stalking is a strong word. I was just checking on you once in a while after you didn’t come home after the last time we chatted, so no I didn’t see you coming here,” she soothed, doing literally nothing to cool his ire.

“Well, I’m here now, so you can leave.” With a wave of his hand, he pointed back toward Ramon’s prone form. His friend seemed to have lost his ability to speak, and instead just stood behind him shaking his head back and forth slowly, pure disbelief covering his face.

“This is some messed up shit,” Ramon said under his breath.

“Don’t be so dramatic, Lysander. Just get in here and close the door. We need to talk,” Red said, beckoning him into his own home. Noah looked bored with the whole scene, running his hand down Bingley’s back, who looked excited by all the people around.

Exasperated and full body exhausted, he stomped in with Ramon close on his heels. Slamming the door, he turned to face the two interlopers.

“How did you even get in?” he asked, tugging on his forelock.

Red turned expectantly to Noah, so he had to be the brains of their operation. “It’s easy, especially since Lex can jump the back fence without people noticing. I just had to tinker with your security protocols a little, give the two of us unlimited guest access,” Noah explained with a shrug. “Your dog isn’t much of a guard animal.” Bingley’s tongue lolled out of his mouth in response to the critique.

Digging his hands fully into his hair now, Lysander slumped back onto the sofa. Ramon glared at Red and Noah, arms crossed against his chest. “I don’t know what right you two think you have to hang around here, but I think you’ve done enough.” As threatening as Ramon probably was to a normal person, Lysander doubted Red was affected by it.

“Are you still upset about it?” Red asked, only now seeming to realize the source of Lysander’s distress.

“Of course I am! Did you think I would just be fine after a little vacation? It’s not like I took a trip to the beach to reflect on forgiveness or something! I was planning a funeral, for god’s sake!” His head started to pound in his temples.

“Hmm, well, maybe this’ll cheer you up,” she began, “I have an idea for your little project.”

He struggled to follow the train of her thoughts. “What project?”

“Your save the city thing, of course.”

“My ‘save the city thing’?” he asked incredulously. “You know what, okay, fine. What’s your idea?” He wasn’t in a position to turn away anybody’s insights in this regard.

“Okay! So, you know how I told you before how the cities hire Shifted to go outside the Barrier and do their shipping and stuff?” He nodded and circled his hand to ask her to continue. “Well, we’ve heard some rumors that there’s some communities of Shifted who do their own farm work not far from here. Maybe we could go and ask to set up a trade agreement or something? Wouldn’t be much different from what already goes on, just instead of city to city, it would be city to Shifted commune.”

He hadn’t expected much, to be honest, but this actually sounded feasible. “You think they’d go for it?”

“It’s worth a shot, at least,” she replied.

“I think y’all are forgetting one super important thing here, and that’s Anthony Campbell. That dude won’t go for working with Shifted. He’d rather eat off his own foot,” Ramon piped in, “Even I’ve heard the stories about how crazy he can get.”

The fledgling hope that had sprouted in Lysander’s chest abruptly met its end. Ramon was absolutely correct. Even if he could convince Miria, the city council, the judicial Committee, and the Shifted farmers, Anthony Campbell would do everything in his considerable power to quash it. Maybe he could get Miria on board and have her strip her uncle of some of his power? The last thing they needed was to anger Anthony’s almost cult-like followers, though. The general populace would probably fall behind Anthony’s mindset rather than risk their survival on Shifted exiles. Such was the depth of the fear people had of life outside the Barrier. Even framing it as their only chance for survival would just inspire needless panic at this stage.

He would have to consider other ideas before committing to this one. “Ramon’s right. There’s no way that would work without some kind of consequences.” The stress crept back into his shoulders, and his headache pounded away.

“Told ya so,” Noah said, nudging Red’s leg with his elbow. He had somehow become a cat tree in the short amount of time they had been conversing with all three of Lysander’s cats sprawled on various parts of his body, from his lap to his shoulders. At least his pets seemed to like Noah, even if Lysander didn’t, the traitors.

Red glared down at her roommate before turning her ire back onto Lysander. “It was just a thought. I’m here to help you,” she stated, crossing her arms. She couldn’t seem to comprehend that Lysander just wanted her to go away forever, that their relationship couldn’t go back to how it had been before she had murdered Joseph Campbell.

“What would be helpful to me would be if you would just leave, Red,” Lysander ground out from behind the hands he had placed over his face, digging fingers into the skin of his forehead to ground himself, “I don’t want anything to do with you, anymore. I thought that would be obvious.”

“Wow, rude. Considering she’s the only reason you’re still alive, you have a mouth on you.” Noah said this all from the floor, which really took away from the aggression in his tone, but his defense of Red was not lost.

For his trouble, Red kicked him lightly in the thigh and glared at him again. Noah just grunted a quick, “Ow, what was that for?”, before rolling his eyes and sulkily turning his attention back to the cat in his lap.

“First of all, call me Lexi. I told you my name for a reason. Secondly, I’m not sorry for what I did. He would have eventually found someone who could take you out. I did what needed to be done so you could keep living. And finally, I’m going to help you with all this whether you like it or not, which from your behavior tonight I can tell is a hard ‘not’. I don’t give a shit, Lysander, you’re stuck with me.”

“Why though?” he shouted out, his patience snapping once more. “You’re clearly no altruist. You don’t give a fuck what happens to the city, so it’s not like you want to be a hero or something. So why are you still here? Are you waiting for your payment?” At this, he pulled out his wallet and started tossing credits at her. They didn’t reach her, and instead drifted to the floor like fall leaves. “There, that should cover it. Just leave me alone, please.” He was begging now, but he had never had much dignity to begin with, so he didn’t care as long as she just left and he didn’t have to deal with how it felt to look at her and know that it was his fault she had ruined Miria’s life.

After his blow up, the room fell into silence, Noah and Ramon both unsure how to break the tension between them. Red watched the money fall, her eyes tracking it until it all laid prone on the ground, and then she looked back up at Lysander. He met her eyes for the first time since she had killed his foster father, and the indifference he saw there only made his headache stronger.

“Are you done?” she asked at last. “Get it all out of your system now.” Here, she spread her arms wide. “You can hit me, if you want. Just, burn it all out, so we can move on and fix your fucking city.”

“I don’t want to hit you,” he said, appalled--though he would be lying if he hadn’t thought of it during some of his lower moments, “I just want to go back in time and tell myself not to make a deal with you.”

“Well, that’s impossible, as far as I know, so you’re gonna have to do something else to get the fuck over this.”

“Damn, that’s cold,” Ramon whispered, and something about it was so funny to Lysander in that moment, what might be the single most stressful moment of his life, and he couldn’t stop a snort of laughter from escaping his lips. As soon as it started, he couldn’t stop it, and then he was laughing so hard his stomach hurt and he had to lay down on the sofa, chuckles still unwillingly shaking his shoulders.

Everyone else in the room traded glances, mutually decided Lysander had lost it, and allowed his fit to continue unimpeded. Except, instead of ending, it just transitioned into full on aggressive sobs. Lysander grabbed the closest couch pillow and held it against his face and screamed until his throat went raw from the abuse. Ramon approached cautiously, sitting on the end of the sofa by his feet, and placed a hand against his shin.

“Hey, man, you have every right to be in your feelings right now and I’m here for you and all, so just let it out,” Ramon said awkwardly, patting his shin.

With a whine, Bingley crawled onto Lysander’s chest and started pawing at the pillow concealing his face. The weight of the dog’s body soothed him enough to calm him down. The fact that Noah and Red were bearing witness to this also helped to break the fog that had penetrated his brain. The total breakdown actually seemed to have helped, however, and he felt clearer somehow, more himself.

“Sorry. I think I needed that though,” he said, his voice largely muffled by the pillow.

“It’s cool. Sometimes you just gotta scream it out. I get it,” Ramon responded, still patting his leg like he wasn’t sure what else to be doing with his hands.

“Yeah, that actually helped, thanks,” he mumbled, still underneath the pillow.

Something hard pushed into his stomach, then, and he grabbed at it instinctually only to feel the crumbled edges of the credits he had thrown. “Here, keep these for now. We’re making a new deal,” Red insisted as she backed away from him. She must have shoved them into him with force because the spot where her hand had been felt tender and sore.

Flipping the pillow off his face at last, he turned his head to look at her, finding her not far off and giving him another inscrutable look. “But the first one went so terrifically. Why would I need to make another?”

“As your friend, I’m gonna have to advise you against ever working with her again,” Ramon said, removing his hand from Lysander’s leg and glaring over at Red.

“You’re not really in any position to be turning down help right now, yeah?” she responded.

He really wasn’t, but if he did this, he would be knowingly working with someone who had already betrayed him once. She could crow until she was blue in the face that she had done it for him, but he still saw it as a huge violation of the trust he had placed in her.

“Do you want our help or not? You’re waffling too much,” Noah griped, annoyance painting his features.

“Oh boy, I’d get you in the deal too? Is it Christmas already?”

“Oh fuck you. Look, you may not like me and you may not like Lexi anymore, but you can’t deny that we have skillsets and connections that you don’t, so in my biased opinion, it would behoove you to just let us join your little team or whatever.”

Groaning, Lysander scrubbed his face, wishing this nightmare theater would end. As much as he wanted to continue insisting they leave, Noah was entirely correct. They would be invaluable to him, especially if he needed to fall back on Red’s earlier idea of contacting a Shifted farming community. It wasn’t like he could just wander outside the Barrier on his own and not get hopelessly lost while simultaneously poisoning himself with the Spread while also putting himself at risk of being mauled to death.

“You know what, fine, yes, we can make a deal. What do you want out of it? Naming rights to my firstborn?”

“I don’t want anything right now,” Red said, and that sounded ominous enough to make his stomach flip again.

Ramon narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Fine, then I’m in too. No way you’re gonna hang around with Lysander alone again.”

At this, Lysander popped up to a sitting position in surprise. “No, Ramon. I can’t let you put yourself in the line of fire like that. Who knows if I can even pull off working with them without Anthony finding out.”

“Man, I’m already in it, I told you. You think those guys don’t already know about me? They probably saw me drag your ass away from that crazy knife dude. Nah, I ain’t gonna halfass this.”

His mention of being seen reminded Lysander of the conversation with Tessa from what felt like two decades ago. “Oh right, speaking of that, I met your sister, Noah. She told me she pays somebody to erase footage of you guys before the higher ups in BP can see it.”

Instantly, Noah’s face morphed into an almost feral expression. “I don’t have a sister.”

“You met Tessa? Interesting,” Red said, appearing thoughtful.

“Don’t even think about it. I refuse to speak with her,” Noah said as he noticed the look on Red’s face.

“Hmmm, well! This has given me a great idea,” she replied.

“I mean it, Lexi. I want nothing to do with either of them.”

She waved a hand at him flippantly. “Fine, fine. It’s not about that, calm down. No, it’s about our payment for the job. How about we call it even if you let me and Noah crash here? That way we minimize our chances of being caught by the big bads because we’re not coming and going all the time, and you can stop worrying about the imaginary blood price I’m gonna put on our help. Win, win.”

“What?” Noah and Lysander shouted in chorus.

Amidst that cacophony, Ramon said a quick, “Oh hell no.”

“It makes sense to me,” she said with a shrug.

Of all the things she could have asked for, this might have been one of the worst. Primarily because he couldn’t wrap his mind around the idea of coming home from work everyday to Noah and her traipsing about being difficult and impossible to read. The small amount of sanity he had left would go right out the window without his small slice of privacy. Plus, he would only be adding to the list of secrets and lies he was keeping from Miria. He could only take so much.

And yet, this was probably the most elegant solution to most of the kinks they had in working together the first time, and he would be able to cross off worrying about Barrier Patrol kicking down his door at least. Not that that possibility was ever zero, but it would be greatly reduced with them living with him. Not to mention, it would greatly streamline the process of coming up with a solution to the crisis he faced.

But how would he feed them? He couldn’t very well register them with Resident Services, especially because he lived in a designated singles apartment. Honestly, how did these people ever eat?

Voicing this concern, Red merely responded with, “We usually just get some stuff from one of the restaurants or bakeries around where we’re staying. I get paid well enough to afford it. I can give you some of my money so you can buy take out for us, if you want.”

“You aren’t seriously considering this, are you? She could smother you in your sleep, dude!” Ramon protested.

“Considering they can already get in here without me, I think that’s a useless concern. If she wanted to kill me, she could just do it without all this mind fuckery.”

“Okay, yes, but this is still insane. You do see that, right?”

“Yeah, but I don’t really have any better ideas,” Lysander said, resignation written into his tone and posture.

“Great! It’s settled then. We’ll even stay out of your bedroom!” Red said.

“Oh, wonderful. How very magnanimous.”

As loath as he was to leave, Lysander finally convinced Ramon to head home for the night soon after. After seeing his friend off, he cordoned himself into his bedroom alone, all of his pets preferring the company of the strangers in their midst. Bingley would almost certainly get upset at some point in the night and paw and cry at his bedroom door, but that was a problem for future Lysander. Pure, raw exhaustion made falling asleep easy, even as his mind crowded with too many thoughts, and he drifted out to the distant sounds of Red’s and Noah’s voices in the living room.

-

“This is such a bad idea, Lexi. I can’t believe you,” Noah complained, setting up his sleeping bag near the back door close to Lysander’s bookshelves. He would probably be up late into the night going through them to see if Lysander had anything he hadn’t read yet. Lexi decided not to comment on it, though.

“Hey, you can’t complain. We have a roof over our heads for the foreseeable future now,” she replied.

“I have no idea why we’re even doing this, though! It’s not like you at all. What do you even like about this guy?”

Lexi shrugged, glancing over at Lysander’s closed bedroom door. “I dunno. He’s weird, and I never know what stupid shit he’s gonna do next. It makes me curious.” Typically, she tried not to get attached to the people she had been assigned to kill, but that ship had already sailed, so she didn’t dwell on it.

“Whatever. I hope it’s worth it, then.” Noah punched in one of the pillows he had snagged from Lysander’s couch, softening the firm padding.

“What’s the worst that could happen?”

The question was rhetorical, but Noah answered regardless. “We could literally die, so yeah it could get pretty bad.”

“Don’t be so negative. It could be fun working with other people for once, huh?”

“Yeah maybe if it wasn’t the stupidest person I’ve ever met and his pet tank engine.”

Lexi couldn’t stop a chuckle from escaping at that. “So rude, Noah. It’ll be back to normal soon enough.”

“It better be.”