Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

How dangerous it was to know that there was something in this world worth losing. Christopher Gibbs, after all, knew that feeling all too well. 

His life was a living nightmare, but Chris still survived. Knowing that the reason he was here was gone and lost absolutely broke him to pieces. It left him feeling empty, as if a part of him had been ripped away. Tonight was another of those times when darkness threatened to consume him.

Chris lay on the floor of his second story apartment, music on blast at 3:04 in the morning, another unsuccessful attempt to drown away his thoughts. The carpet that he was lying on was beginning to feel itchy, but he had no energy to move. He just rested there and watched as the reflections of the moon on the lake shimmered and danced across his ceiling in time with the beats of the songs. 

He almost didn’t notice the fact that his phone was ringing aside from the vibrations that caught his attention. Clumsily groping around to pick it up, he was met with the annoyingly bright image of his best friend. 

“What’s up?” he asked, stumbling to his feet to head somewhere more quiet. 

“Hey, Chris! Couldn’t sleep either, huh?” Asher’s exuberant voice always seemed to calm some of his nerves. 

Christopher sighed as he crossed the living room to get some fresh air on his back balcony. Throwing the door open, he leaned over the balcony rails, the cold wind pricking at his bare face. “Nope. Just another one of those nights.” 

He didn’t need to say anything more as his friend accepted his statement. Asher had a way of understanding him like no one else. 

“Yeah, I figured,” Ash chuckled from the other side of the phone. 

Chris laughed along with him, letting some of the stress that had been trapped inside of him leave with the chilly night breeze. “Why did you call anyways?” 

“You know me, although I may be lying here as if my soul has already departed to the afterlife, my mind is racing over a hundred miles per hour…” 

“What masterplan have you come up with now?” 

“Nothing much, just thinking it would be nice to get away from this crappy campus tomorrow and hang out with the cool folks.” 

Chris smirked, snorting audibly into the mic before wittily responding. “I’m sure we’re all dying to see you, ya dork. We totally didn’t meet up just yesterday, now did we?”

“I’m craving a good old garlic parmesan breadstick, Chris.” 

“Obviously.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll get it set up around noon!” Asher stated, “Meet you there! G’night!”

“Good night, Ash,” Chris smiled to himself before the call hung up leaving him alone once again. 

He let out a contented sigh, relaxing on the railing and studying the night view from his apartment balcony. Across the calming view of the city’s central park was where the taller buildings were situated, looming above the trees, but never obstructing the view of the distant forests. 

In this city he was born and raised. It once felt like an open world yet to be explored but now it felt like a cage. 

One aspect that made Cedarbrooke different from other cities was the fact that you could still see the stars on a clear day. Chris always assumed that this was the reason for the influx of creative travelers that decided to settle into the miserable small town in the first place. The stars were like sparkling gems scattered across the eternal, icy wasteland of a dark sky. It reminded Chris of the good days of his childhood when he didn’t have a care in the world. 

Checking the time again, he realized that it was already 5 AM in the morning. Unfortunately for him, there was no point in trying to fit in some last minute rest. Getting distracted by the slowly fading stars was certainly not how he wanted to start off his day. 

Silently cursing under his breath, Chris wandered back inside, starting to brew some coffee. He was going to need the extra caffeine, after all, there was another long day of work ahead of him. 

───────  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ♠ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───────

Unlike the others, Chris wasn’t going to bundle himself up in three layers of coats. Personally, he thought they looked ridiculous, rushing off to their early morning jobs looking like marshmallows. Everyone was so young, energetic… so naive. Compared to them, Chris was quite the opposite, nonchalant and downcast, just starting off another routine day of his boring life, too mentally exhausted to throw on more than a simple scarf. After all, like the rapidly approaching winter, Chris knew just how quickly someone’s life could get turned upside down. 

The station wasn’t very far away from his apartment, maybe a mere twenty minutes, yet he liked to take his time on his way there. The route was directly through the central park which was generally uninhabited at 6:30 AM in the morning aside from the occasional stragglers and go-getters of course. It was truly serene, the first rays of the morning sunlight trickling through the branches of the leafy pines. 

The city, by contrast, was quite the opposite. Though Cedarbrooke Heights wasn’t all that big, the city always seemed to be packed. Christopher remembered when he was a child, living on the outskirts of the city where the roads would transform from cement to dirt and the corn fields would stretch into the horizon. The orphanage lacked everything the city had to offer and that’s exactly what drew Chris towards it. 

Like a Venus flytrap, luring him in before going for the kill, the city presented itself as a place of opportunity. He could follow his heart, achieve his goals and best of all have the freedom he had always fantasized about. 

Initially, it was everything he dreamed of and more. However, this began to change when the Black Mamba took over. 

It had all started with a snake. Not just any snake, but a single Black Mamba meticulously placed in the driver seat of an unfortunate victim's car. The murder had taken place less than five months ago and it marked the beginning of a new era for Cedarbrooke Heights.

The following week, the murderer gained his title. The Black Mamba was the first exciting thing to happen in the small town of Cedarbrooke in years.

From there all hell broke loose.

The cold-blooded murders were soon so common that everyone in Cedarbrooke began fearing for their own lives. The burden to catch the serial killer fell into the hands of the city’s only police department and crime headquarter. Chief Andrew Dalton had stepped up to the job, recruiting several new promising young officers to create a taskforce to take down the Black Mamba once and for all. Chris had been chosen to be one of them. 

It didn’t take long for him to rise to fame among those in the department as the most skilled trainee at the time and he was soon appointed as the leader of the task force. That was the moment when his job took over his entire life. Day in and day out he would work, responding to scenes, collecting evidence, staying extra hours in an attempt to put the pieces together. No matter how hard he tried, no matter how much he wanted to, he just couldn’t catch the elusive Black Mamba. 

But Christopher was not someone who would give up that easily. He had made a vow and nothing was going to stop him from destroying the Mamba.  

───────  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ♠ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───────

The department was bustling, but even through all the officers and detectives Chris was nowhere to be seen. Impatiently checking the clock on the wall every couple of seconds was not how Zelene had wanted to start her morning. 

“He’s so tardy, when will he ever learn!” Ze threw her hands in the air, exasperated. “Whatever, I’m going to start without that idiot.” 

She collapsed down into the bean bag chair den in the corner of the office uttering a growl of annoyance in the process. 

Her partner chuckled from his spot at the desk where his pencil tapped on his chair. It was starting to get quite irritating and a not so subtle glare immediately ended his fidgeting. 

“Sorry, just a habit!” Taj apologized, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. 

He quickly diverted his attention to fiddling with his badge instead. Sometimes Ze wondered how someone like Taj ever made it onto the Black Mamba task force to begin with. No one so kind-hearted, sweet, and shy should be part of such a gruesome game of catching a murderer. 

Whatever the case may be, she knew that sitting in awkward silence was no better than her raging about a late captain. 

“I’m calling it!” Zelene confidently exclaimed from her spot, brushing a strand of her short purple hair out of her face, “I bet we’re going to be summoned to a scene within the next ten minutes.” 

“Five sounds more reasonable.” 

Chris meandered into the office, shutting the door behind himself before taking the empty seat beside Taj. It took all of Ze’s mental willpower to prevent her from punching him in the face and she was almost certain by Taj’s concerned glance that he knew this too. 

“That is the eighth time since this month started that you have done this to us, Chris. The eighth time in two weeks. That is fourteen days, may I remind you.” Ze slammed her fist into her cushioned lounge. 

“Yes, thank you for that information.” Chris smirked, noticing how Zelene was on the verge of blowing up. Just in time, he unzipped his bag and slammed a document on the table, causing Taj to nearly fall out of his seat. 

“Wh-what's that?” Taj desperately tried to recollect himself, brushing off his uniform, his bright blue eyes scanning the names scribbled on the parchment. 

Zelene curiously made her way up from her spot with a loud groan and took a seat beside the duo. “Missing persons cases? We know where they’ll end up…” 

“Unfortunately, that is true,” Chris agreed with a sigh, “I would say there is a slim chance that the victims will last another couple of days before ending up as another of the Mamba’s projects.” 

“The police haven’t found them yet?” queried Taj, who was still immersed in studying the papers. 

Shaking his head, Chris answered solemnly, “No evidence left behind, just straight up disappeared.”

“No patterns or abnormal behavior from any of them,” Zelene deduced from the reports, searching for any miniscule hint she could find. Beside her, Taj had gone back to his deep thinking too, finger tracing the writing, line to line. 

It always amazed Chris how the three ended up in this mess together. A trio of twenty year olds meant to save the city from destruction. Such a heavy burden at such a young age. What exactly had it been that the chief saw in each of them? 

The Black Mamba was smart, that was for sure. He knew how to erase his tracks, so well in fact that there seemed to be nothing that the task force knew about him. There was one aspect that Chris certainly knew. The Mamba was a human, just like each of them. And as humans make mistakes, the Mamba was capable of messing up too. He just had to keep waiting in hope for a single slip and pounce on the opportunity. 

Suddenly, the office door slammed open, jerking Chris out of his thoughts. 

“Squad, I need you to move out, we’ve had another incident.” Chief Andrew Dalton made his way into the room, patting Chris on the shoulder as his comrades ran to grab their tools. 

“Sir, what are the details this time?” Christopher nodded, gathering his documents. 

“Bench near an alleyway, 4th Street near the outskirts. As usual, the area has been evacuated, but no suspect is in sight.” 

As usual the chief had been straight to the point, putting his complete trust in Chris and the team. It was like this every single day in the department, but despite their many failures Dalton never gave up on them. Unlike the rest of the officers that had resigned, stating that the Mamba was too elusive to be caught, the chief still had hope that he would one day end them. 

“Roger that.” Chris slung his bag over his shoulder, watching as Taj and Zelene rushed outside to the car and hurriedly chasing after them. 

“Officer Gibbs!” Dalton called from the office, halting Chris in his tracks. 

“Sir?”

Dalton nodded, smiling in support and offering a small salute, “Go get ‘em.”

Returning the smile with a curt nod, Chris turned on his heel and headed straight for the heart of the crime scene.

───────  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ♠ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───────

It looked straight out of a painting. 

An unmoving man, legs crossed reading his newspaper, hat slightly tilted so it covered his lifeless eyes. A single bench under a lonely streetlight, the old cobblestone wall in the background. If it wasn’t for the eerie message carved into the wood and the fact that the area was now surrounded by flashing lights and tape, Taj swore that it looked so ordinary. 

That was one thing about the Black Mamba. He was an artist. The victims were meticulously placed so that it seemed no different than a regular day of their life. From being inside a car, to sleeping in a hotel room, to sitting on a bench in the middle of a busy street. The Mamba was silent, but deadly all while hiding little easter eggs of gibberish at his crime scenes.

That was another thing about the Mamba. He loved Latin. Luckily for the task force, Taj liked Latin too. 

“Cogito, ergo sum,” Taj mimicked the crooked text on the bench, “I think, therefore I am.” 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Zelene pondered from her spot on the cement. She furiously typed at the keys of her laptop, adding in this new piece of information to the hundreds of documents they have been collecting over time. 

“It’s a philosophical phrase, I’ll give you that,” Chris sighed, tracing his pen over the carvings before pointing the tip towards the slumped over body, “Any idea what killed him?” 

Taj snapped on his gloves and examined the man’s face before removing his hat. Thick blood dripped down his temple from a hole in the side of his head, making his blonde hair stained dark red. 

“Bullet straight to the brain,” Taj announced, “Never went through the other side, so I suspect it wasn’t at point blank range. He must have stuffed the wound with something to stop the blood from spewing out like a waterfall, but we all know it only lasts so long…” 

Ze winced at the idea. “Those were some unnecessarily gruesome details.”

“What? You asked what killed him!”

“Anyways boys, the victim has been identified,” Zelene stated. “35 year old Peter Sutton, no recorded family, his parents are both in the suburbs so send a team to deal with that. He has a part time job as a janitor at the middle school, but otherwise nothing out of the ordinary.” 

“It’ll be a tough one finding someone else willing to clean those toilets…” Chris jokingly commented. 

“Truly disgusting, don’t remind me,” Taj cringed at the memories of their times at the school. 

Ze playfully punched Chris in the arm as she headed back to the car, “At least we ladies are cleaner than you apes!” 

“Oh shut up!”

Just before he had made up his mind to murder Ze, his phone buzzed in sync with Taj’s. 

“The Chaos Court is summoning us,” he announced, hands still full with examining the victim, “You got it?” 

Chris nodded, opening his phone and scrolling through his messages until he got to the bustling group chat. The Chaos Court was the title of their friend squad which was fitting since the only thing that ever seemed to happen in it was pure uncoordinated chaos. 

The Chaos Court 🔥

ASH 🖊️ : Hear ye, hear ye! 

ASH 🖊️ : I summon you all to the Spice Garden Eatery this wonderful morning to indulge in breadsticks galore! 

Neall: Your “breadsticks galore” are selling out fast, so you better get your butts over here ASAP.

ASH 🖊️ : Aren’t you supposed to be working?? :0

Neall: I haven’t been caught yet… 😬 I swear though I’m willing to quit my job at this stupid restaurant. They underestimate my pasta making skills.

ASH 🖊️ : DON’T LEAVE!! 😭 How are we ever going to get free breadsticks again???

Neall: Silence fool. I ain’t leaving just yet… At least not until I discover all their secret recipes…

ASH 🖊️ : 😂

✨Chrispy✨ : We’ll get there as soon as we are done on the scene 👍

ASH 🖊️ : Yay!! See ya there! 🎉

“I guess we’re going out for lunch then,” Chris relays to his partner on the bench.

In time to hear the announcement, Ze trotted back from the cop car bringing reinforcements. “Cool beans, I guess we’ll head out as soon as Taj finishes up. I checked the cams, but as per usual the footage has already been cut out. It freezes at 3 AM in the morning and cuts back in at 7, so who knows what the Mamba did in those four hours.” 

“Yeah, committing manslaughter apparently,” Chris muttered, turning to the officers who were awaiting their orders. “You got it from here I suppose?” 

“Yes sir,” came the joint responses. 

“All done on my end!” announced Taj with a content smile, packing all his materials into his container, “I grabbed some swabs and samples to examine back at the department.”

“Perfect, we’ll swing by on our way there, let’s go team.” His two companions skipped up beside him and raced over to the car. By the time he had ambled over they were already buckled up and eyeing him eagerly. 

“Hurry up old man!” Ze shouted, much to Chris’ annoyance. 

“He’s only a couple months older than you.” Taj began to get defensive, “You can’t just say stuff like that!” 

Chris listened to the bickering in the back and couldn’t help but long to join them. But he just couldn’t. After all, it was his duty to stop a serial killer, leaving no time for playing games. 

Whatever the case may be though, he felt like working with Taj and Zelene helped satisfy a part of him that longed for that childlike spirit and he didn’t even try to stop the smile that made its way across his face. 

“Onward to the Spice Garden!” 

───────  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ♠ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───────

The restaurant was quite a welcome change from the action packed crime scenes that Chris witnessed on a weekly basis. As much as he wanted to dedicate his entire life to solving this mystery, he knew that spending time away from the job was such a contrast to the grim reality of his daily life. 

The moment the trio stepped through the door they were met with the mouth-watering aroma of the cuisine and also a wild Asher that seemed to appear out of nowhere and crush them all in a hug.  

“What’s up squad?” Asher pulled the three cops into a rib-crushing embrace. No matter how many countless times Chris had warned him how much he hated hugs, Asher never listened.

Taj and Zelene headed over to the circular booth, the former offering a spot to the latter before engaging in small talk. The other two followed suit, finding a seat opposite them.

Chris placed his suitcase on the floor, picking a stray burr off of his sock in the process. “So, how are the classes going?” 

“Boring like always,” Asher sighed, sprawling out onto the table, “All we do is study day in and out, learning about the same simple subjects over and over again! I’m just too tired!”

“Hey!” Chris joked, much to Asher’s disappointment, “It’s not my fault you have an 8am class and still decided not to get a wink of sleep last night!” 

“Welcome, friends!” a waitress exclaimed, not even bothering to place down the menus at their table. There were many perks to being well known by all the staff at a restaurant. “Will it be the regular for today?” 

“Yes!” Asher replied, offering the young woman a fist bump, “Thank you, ma’am.” 

The low hanging lights emitted a warm, golden glow, contributing to the cozy atmosphere of the Spice Garden. Their corner booth had quite the view of the bustling restaurant, giving one access to glimpse both the ambient chitter chatter of some customers and the calm, serene silence of others. Somehow, Chris felt out of place. 

“Neall’s been running around like a headless chicken trying to keep up with the demand!” Ash laughed, making an attempt to fold his napkin into a crane. 

Chris chuckled to himself. Neall had been here for several years, working his way up the ranks. It wasn’t too long ago when they had the Spice Garden practically all to themselves. With what little they had of news reporters, they somehow managed to spread the word that the small Italian restaurant was one of the best in Cedarbrooke Heights. Not soon afterwards it was nearly impossible to find a seat, that is unless you were a regular customer there and got the VIP class seats.
“Chris! Hey!” Christopher was pulled out of his reverie by someone grabbing his arm. “You’re zoning out again. What’s up?”

“Oh. Just tired.” 

He received a nod in confirmation, but somehow Chris didn’t think that Asher genuinely believed him. Luckily, a plate of steaming pasta slid onto the middle of the table, breaking up the awkward moment. 

“Eat up, morons.” 

Zelene playfully punched the chef in the arm, resulting in an overdramatized reaction as the young man clutched his injury.  

“Ah, there he is!” she exclaimed, “The restaurant’s pasta prodigy!” 

A confident smirk crossed Neall’s face as he took pride in the compliment. He brushed aside a long lock of dark hair that fell across his face in a way that Chris thought was slightly exaggerated. His stained and worn apron was a testament to his hardworking nature and determination in the kitchen. 

Taj seemed to be contemplating something across the table. “Um… Neall? Aren’t you forgetting something important right now?” 

Turning on his heel, Neall returns to the kitchen, weaving his way through the crowds. The swinging door clatters behind him, still barely moving back and forth when he returns bearing a basket of breadsticks. A wave of cheers welcomed its arrival. 

“Thanks a lot, man!” Asher beamed before digging right into the dish. 

Sliding right in beside Chris, Neall pulled the gloves off of his slender hands, stuffing them away in his pockets before snatching an appetizer for himself. 

The group sat in comfortable silence, too busy chowing down on their meal to talk. Within minutes the breadsticks and pasta were nearly nonexistent. 

Asher wiped the corner of his mouth with a napkin before leaning into Chris, excitement evident in his voice. “So, how’s the hunt for the Mamba going? Any evidence? Another victim?”

Chris sighed, reaching for the third breadstick of the day. “Yeah, another one. We have some leads, but nothing concrete yet. We’re hoping for a breakthrough soon, though.”

“You know, it’s crazy,” Neall chimed in, brushing some crumbs off the table, “I remember when Cedarbrooke was just a quiet town. Now, it feels like we’re in the middle of a crime thriller.”

“More like a nightmare,” Ze interjected, mouth still full of food. “It’s not like we’re dealing with some petty thief. This guy is ruthless.”

Taj, who had been otherwise engaged in a conversation with his fellow detective piped in too. “You know, I’ve been thinking about that phrase the Mamba left on the bench. Cogito, ergo sum… Do you suppose there is a deeper meaning to it?”

“I doubt it.” Chris countered. “That lunatic is probably just messing with us.” 

“What a jerk!” Asher scoffed in annoyance. Receiving no reply, he tried to stray from the harsh topic, “So, is anyone doing anything tonight?” 

A few grumbles and shakes of heads. 

Neall appeared to be in deep thought, his brow furrowed in concentration. “You know what? I suggest we do something fun.”

“I agree,” Taj piped in. Turning to Ze, he continued, “We’ve all been pretty stressed and busy lately, huh… When was the last time we had a movie marathon anyways?”

“Hell yeah!” Ze cheered, slamming her cup down onto the table, “movie marathon it is!” 

Still facing the topic with slight trepidation, Chris decided to give them his opinion on the matter. “You know this sounds like a wonderful idea and all but have we figured out where exactly we are going to do this?”

“As a matter of fact, Chris, we have decided.” Neall boldly announced, grabbing Chris’ arm, “We are going to raid your apartment!” 

His captive shook off the harsh grip before retaliating, “At what cost?” 

Without the slightest bit of hesitation, Neall rummaged through his oversized apron pockets pulling out a pack of oatmeal raisin cookies. 

“Will this do?” he asked, waving the sweet treat around so everyone could see. 

Wearily sighing in defeat, Chris nodded his head much to the group’s delight.

Another half hour went by of playful bickering before the check finally arrived, discounted of course because of the regular customer perks. Chris, feeling like the only responsible adult in the group, covered the tab with a generous tip and not soon after they were all collecting their possessions to leave. 

“You realize we won’t be back for at least another couple of hours, am I clear?” Chris had pulled aside Asher and Neall before their departure to give them a talking to. 

Asher sheepishly scratched his head, “Oh Christopher, you don’t really believe that we’re going to break into your apartment, do you?” 

“As a matter of fact, I do and I would love it if all of my crackers didn’t disappear for the second time this year.” 

Looking shocked, Neall tried to defend himself, “Woah, slow down there! They were almost gone already! I promise you I just ate three of them.” 

“More like thirty…” Asher mumbled resulting in a slap to the arm. 

“Whatever happened back then, I don’t care just don’t let it happen again,” Chris went on, sending the twosome away with a curt nod, “See you tonight, don’t get yourselves into trouble!” 

Meanwhile, Taj and Zelene sat in the backseat of the vehicle, leaning out of the window and watching on impatiently. 

“Get a move on you douchebag, we’ve got places to be!” 

Chris rolled his eyes, watching on as they rolled up the window all the way before breaking character as fits of laughter filled the car. 

He walked around the other side, sliding into the driver's seat before starting up the engine and heading straight back to the department. Turning the radio on at top volume, Chris got a bit of enjoyment listening to his passengers screaming at him to turn it down. However, he simply chose to ignore them, focusing instead on the long road ahead of them. 

───────  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ♠ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───────

A map of the entire city spanned the entire office wall.

32 different murder scenes pinned and connected with bright red strings.

No killer captured. 

As Chris paced around his office tracing the woolen strings with his fingers, he was interrupted by the giggling of his two partners in the background. 

“Damn, you two have been awfully giddy after leaving the Spice Garden. Now would you like to explain yourselves?” 

“Stop being so nosy, Chris!” Ze complained, still grinning from whatever joke had been brought up moments before. 

Zelene had always been tech savvy from a young age. Chris remembered how she would tell him tales of when she broke into her dad’s laptop when she was 6 and changed his wallpaper to a picture of the family cat. Ever since then her talents became more and more apparent as she became invested in analytics and coding. This was never enough for her, however, and Zelene eventually settled on hacking. What started with simple game hacks developed into databases. Occasionally Chris had to stop and wonder how she even got let into the taskforce in the first place, but Ze truly was a valuable part of their team. 

Taj on the other hand, had more of an interest in the solid evidence from the scene of crime. He preferred to investigate and explore, finding fingerprints and DNA. Taking the analytical approach to the scene, Taj used the evidence to make predictions (which were about 87% of the time correct) as to how the unfortunate victims had died. Chris remembers watching Taj’s talents grow after joining the department. He had known the boy since high school but often wondered how someone so timid and shy would be able to assess brutal murders every week. But Taj had always been hardworking and the more he learned, the more confident he grew and he really began to shine in those seemingly stressful moments. His boundless curiosity and positive vibes always calmed Chris down and the bond between them became all the more inseparable. 

Chris had been too deep in thought to realize that peace and quiet had finally entered the office. The clacking sound of computer keyboards soon filled the room, making the silence a little bit more bearable. 

Chris went back to his work, tracing the path of the Mamba and trying desperately to find any correlation between the sites. Through the countless times they had tried, it never seemed to work.

Although the places of the murders were so chaotically placed, the scenes themselves were always neat and tidy. The Mamba never slipped up, never skipped a detail, never left them any piece of evidence. 

Taking another breath, Chris continued his search. He couldn’t give up yet, not when there was the possibility that the Mamba could leave any miniscule sign of mishap behind. After all, he had to be a human too, just like the rest of them. 

Glancing around the room, he was filled with a sense of tranquility watching Taj and Ze shoulder deep in their work, immersed in their research. If they still had hope, he could too. 

Here Chris was, on the cusp of another intense investigation, but also surrounded by people who grounded him and reminded him of what he was fighting for. He was doing this for them. He would never let the Mamba take away someone he loved. Never again.

───────  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ♠ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───────

It all came together when the trio opened the apartment door and received a warm welcome. Glistening, multicolored fairy lights decorated the ceiling as their glow shined down upon the group. Several bowls filled with popcorn, cookies and other snacks were placed around the floor, just calling the group to devour them. Towering over them was the fort that both Asher and Neall had created from the blankets and pillows, obviously taken from their own homes since it was so humongous. The two smiled as they reclined on the fluffy cushions and hid behind the makeshift door. 

“Ah, you made it. Welcome to our fort. It is the safest place on earth. Countless have attempted to enter but many have failed. Unfortunately for you, if you wish to join us, tortuous questions will be put to you, to which you must provide a sufficient answer. Are any of you brave enough to volunteer to go first?”

Chris and Taj were still awestruck, mouths agape as they stood there frozen. Zelene, however, had recovered a whole lot faster than the boys and took the challenge herself. “Bring it on!” she boasted rather confidently, “I’m ready for whatever comes my way!”

With a curt nod, Neall pulled his phone out from under the pillows and started scrolling. “Okay, first question,” he paused briefly to clear his throat, “Name one kind thing that one of us has done for you today.” 

“Not including this awesome pillow fort we just created, of course!” Asher piped in, burrowing into the mountain of blankets. 

This certainly seemed to throw Ze off as she struggled to think of something other than what stood in front of her. “Uh… well I guess Taj offered to get my food for me and gave me quite the generous portion of pasta?”

“Bingo!” Neall exclaimed, scooting closer to Asher to make some room for the new guest, “Welcome in!”

Chris didn’t miss the way Taj seemed to shrink into himself in embarrassment, his ears turning a slight shade of red. 

Meanwhile, Neall and Asher glanced at the homeless duo outside, willing another brave soul to take a stab at the entrance ceremony. Chris knew that there was no way he was going next, so he playfully shoved Taj in front of him, throwing his friend into the spotlight. 

“Umm… speaking of the lunch, Neall was the one who made us the food, so I guess that was kind of him, right?” 

Asher opened his mouth to say something, but Neall abruptly cut him off, “And it was good, wasn’t it?” 

“Best pasta in the world.” Taj confirmed.

Asher let out an exasperated sigh, calling Taj inside. “Just let him come in already, you moron!” 

Glancing from one person to another, Chris hopelessly attempted to choose one good deed that they had done for each other. It wasn’t the fact that they hadn’t done anything, because they certainly had, but Chris appreciated every moment he spent with them. Just being there for him, letting him be a part of their lives was the kindest thing that they had ever done. 

“Well, I want to thank Asher,” he finally announced, much to the latter’s surprise, “He was the one that set the lunch up for us and I know for a fact he had it all planned out since 3 AM this morning.”

“Damn, Ash,” Zelene judged him from her cozy corner of the fort, “Seriously, how are you not dead on the floor right now?” 

“That is a brilliant question, one that I unfortunately do not have the answer to.”

Chris ducked under the draped blanket entrance of the fort, sliding into place beside Taj. He seized the moment of distraction and stole an unattended oatmeal raisin cookie from the bowl. Unfortunately for him, he was caught red-handed. 

Neall took a flying leap at Chris, tackling him to the soft cushioned ground, all while violently snatching the treat from his hands. Zelene took the opportunity to slam a pillow into Chris’ face, sending him flying. 

“Hey! What the heck was that for?”

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Ze sneered sarcastically, “I didn’t realize it wasn’t a pillow fight.” 

Before anyone could say another word, a stray pillow was tossed from the other side of the tent causing Ze to fling herself out of the way reflexively. Asher, sporting a wide grin of glee on his face, threw a blanket over his enemies face, pinning her down. “It’s too late now! I hereby commence the official pillow fight! FYI: Winner gets double cookies!” 

The chaotic war cries filled the fort as one by one, Asher dominated them all. 

“Hey!” Taj complained, throwing his weapon to the floor in defeat, “That’s not fair!” 

Asher laughed it off declaring,  “All’s fair in love and war!” He swung around his cushion, ready to defend his title. 

Zelene, brushing herself off after the blanket ambush, narrowed her eyes. “Okay, that’s it. I’m coming for you, Asher!” She scrambled back into the fray, picking up a pillow from the ground and charging at him with renewed determination.

Neall was caught between laughter and the sheer absurdity of the situation. “Wait! We can’t have a pillow fight without rules! First rule: no tackling!” he shouted, but his voice was drowned out by the noise of screaming and flying pillows.

Taj rolled his eyes but couldn’t help grinning at the sight of Ze and Asher going head-to-head. “You guys are ridiculous,” he said, but he picked up a pillow too, getting ready to join the fray.

Chris, feeling the excitement surge, decided he couldn’t sit on the sidelines any longer. He picked up a pillow and aimed it at Asher, hitting him square in the face. 

The fort transformed into a battleground, where soft projectiles flew through the air and echoes of laughter filled the room. In the midst of the chaos, Neall took a moment to gather himself. “Alright! Time out!” he called, raising his hands as if he were a referee. “Let’s establish some ground rules before we all end up at the hospital!”

Everyone paused, pillows suspended mid-air, eyes darting around for a potential advantage. 

“Rule number one: everyone gets a chance to throw at the winner ,” Neall declared, pointing at Asher, who was still reveling in his glory. “And rule number two: no hiding behind the fort walls! This is a fair fight!”

“Fine! But no crying after I win!” Asher shot back, preparing himself for the onslaught. 

“You’ll take that statement back after you’re the one who gets taken down first,” Zelene quipped, smirking as she positioned herself for a sneak attack.

Neall had a moment of inspiration. “How about we make this a tournament?” he suggested, “The last person standing gets to choose the next movie for our movie marathon!”

“Now that’s a prize worth fighting for!” Taj exclaimed, enthusiasm rekindled.

The room then erupted into a whirlwind of disorganized madness as weapons flew. Chris aimed for Asher but missed, hitting Taj instead. “Sorry!” he yelled, trying to stifle his giggles.

The laughter only grew louder as the fort began to feel like a live-action movie.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of fallen soldiers and playful screams, the last two standing were Asher and Zelene. 

With a flourish, Ze threw her final pillow, hitting Asher square in the chest. “Victory!” she declared, raising her arms triumphantly.

Ash fell dramatically to the ground, clutching his heart as if mortally wounded. “You may have won this battle, but I’ll be back!” he joked.

“Okay, okay, Ze’s the winner!” Neall announced. “What’s your movie pick?”

Zelene thought for a moment, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “How about a classic? The Princess Bride!”

Cheers and groans erupted from the group as Neall mimicked the famous line, “As you wish!”

Taj and Neall started to clean up, prepping for the rest of the night. After a couple of minutes were spent finding the missing remote and setting up the food, everyone settled into place and the movie started rolling. 

Chris listened as the animated bickering died down and all his friends finally settled into comfortable silence. Chris felt truly grateful for moments like these—where, for a brief moment, he could forget about the nightmare and focus on what truly mattered: spending precious time with those he cared about.

Chapter Text

2 AM in the morning. 

Taj’s phone buzzed with a new message. 

**New Developments on the Mamba Case**

His heart skipped a beat as he read the brief message. “Hey team, this is Chief Dalton. We’ve just received another emergency alert. Head to the suburbs on Maple Street. Full details upon arrival.” 

Slipping out of bed and into his uniform, Taj couldn’t help but cringe at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. It seemed as if he had been losing weight quite rapidly. His face was pale and thin, revealing his bones. His eyes appeared to be sunken and empty, possibly from the lack of sleep waking up in cold sweats. He didn’t even feel like himself these days, unless he was around her of course…

Zelene always had a way of brightening his mood. She was friendly, brave, and smart. Everything that Taj believed he wasn’t. He was awkward, cowardly, and naive. That he knew for sure. Compared to Ze he was nothing because in his eyes, she was perfection itself.

Taj had to restrain himself as he caught his hand in the act of scratching an inflamed rash on the side of his neck. Letting out an annoyed groan, he ran to his closet, digging through his drawer until he found an old blue scarf. He wrapped it around his neck, covering his scars in hope that it would put an end to his subconscious itching. 

Stowing his phone in his pockets, he opened the apartment door. The bitter cold wind hit him and he curled further into his cozy scarf. He dashed to the car, slamming the door behind him in a fruitless attempt to keep what little warmth the vehicle possessed. Starting up the engine, Taj cranked the heaters all the way up, backing out of his spot and driving off into the dark, chilly night. 

───────  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ♠ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───────

Dealing with heartbroken parents was certainly not part of the job description, but then again neither was catching a bloodthirsty murderer.

A mother and father cradled their motionless son in their arms one last time before his body was taken away for inspection. Their sobs were drowned out by the crackling voice over the boy’s favorite radio. 

“In absentia lucis, tenebrae vincunt… In absentia lucis, tenebrae vincunt…”

“In the absence of light, darkness prevails,” Taj murmured under his breath. “I sometimes wonder why the Mamba does any of this in the first place.” 

Zelene tucked a strand of her short purple hair behind her ear, huffing in annoyance. “Is it just me or is he getting more flashy?” 

Chris hummed in agreement. He paced around the bedroom, finding a mug that had been placed on the nightstand, half drunk. Swirling the dark syrupy substance around, he gave it a sniff, recoiling in turn. 

“Nightshade poison,” he coughed, handing the cup over to another cop, “That odor is too strong.” 

“Well that explains the stains on his shirt,” Taj pointed out, jotting down a few inscriptions in his notebook. 

Chris meandered past him, inspecting the radio for anything out of the ordinary. He found nothing again and resorted to watching the unfortunate couple. They sat on the bedroom floor, their completely broken forms barely holding on.

The boy had been a regular 11th grader at the Cedarbrooke High School, going about his everyday life oblivious to what would happen to him in the future. His parents both had the simple job as accountants and would spend their days working and their evenings with their only child. So why would the Mamba target a seemingly ordinary family in the suburbs?

Most of the homes in the suburbs had been abandoned ages ago after the big incident that haunted the city’s past. The few people that remained there were the ones that hated the city life and would rather live near the countryside, near the neverending cornfields… near the orphanage. 

Suddenly, Ze gasped from her spot on the bed, the furious clacking on her keyboard receding in an instant. “Today might just be our lucky day.”

Chris and Taj, startled by the statement, came racing to her side trying to catch a peek at the screen. 

“What do you mean by that?” 

“He made a minor mistake covering up his crime.” Ze rewinded a security cam tucked away in the corner of the neighboring home. There, standing in the entranceway of the house was a figure in a dark cloak. They were carrying a rather large briefcase and glanced at the abandoned house on the left of the family’s home, almost as if double checking that no ghosts would see before turning the door handle and disappearing inside. 

“Is that it?” Chris questioned, his voice coming out a bit higher pitched than he would have liked, probably due to the sudden excitement. 

Ze nodded, rewinding the video again. “After he went in he cut the cameras. Not much we can discover from this.” 

The trio rewatched the clip a couple more times, trying to grasp any little detail that could help them in their search. Taj moved closer, squinting at the screen. “Hey, can you zoom in a bit on the right arm?” 

Ze paused the video, zeroing in on the image until it was nearly pixelated. 

Taj pointed at the small glinting metal on the figure’s arm. “There! That looks like some sort of symbol!” 

“It doesn’t really seem like a symbol,” Chris muttered. “More like a pattern…” 

“Snakeskin.” Ze gasped. 

Sure enough, the shiny metal band’s scaly features shone in the moonlight. It certainly stood out compared to the dark nature of the rest of the outfit. 

Ze opened a new tab on her screen, pulling up the profile of the Black Mamba, mostly empty aside from a few small notes here and there. Finding the section on appearance, she added their first ever detail.  

Dark outfit, metal snakeskin armband.

After confirming there were no more clues from the video, the squad packed up their belongings to head back to the station.

A slight drizzle of rain had started outside, adding to the gloomy atmosphere. It was still only 6:30 yet the morning sun had no chance of beating the power of the dark clouds.

Although this scene had been another unsuccessful one, Chris felt that the originally hopeless mood that had lingered when they entered the house hadn’t left with them. Rather, with the one small clue they had acquired, they had also received a renewed sense of optimism. 

───────  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ♠ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───────

As Neall lay in his room staring at a concerning crack on the ceiling, his phone began to buzz. He certainly didn’t feel like answering it, all he wanted to do today was lie in bed and rot after that long week of work. Yet he picked up the call anyway. 

“Neall. What do you need?” he monotoned, rubbing his sore eyes with his free hand. 

“Hey!!” Asher’s startlingly loud voice almost gave him a heart attack. 

Trying to act annoyed at Asher would never work. He just couldn’t help himself from grinning at how excited his friend sounded. “What on earth do you want?”

“I found an abandoned house and-”

“Woah, woah, woah!” Neall exclaimed, sitting up in shock, “Slow down, turbo! I think I know where this is going and the answer is no.” 

Asher whined on the other side of the phone, “Hey! No interrupting. At least let me finish before you jump to conclusions!” 

Sighing, Neall agreed to let him continue. 

“You know the crime scene last night, right? Well, I wanted to write an article about it for my journalism assignment but the home is all blocked off. The one beside is long abandoned, but the gate was left unlocked!”

“Okay, so you want to break into an old house for no apparent reason?” 

“First of all, it isn’t breaking and entering if the gate is already open and second, it just seems to be calling to me. I was born for this.”

“You know what, I’m glad you are fulfilling your destiny.”

“Well that’s the problem, Neall,” Asher bluntly stated. “I can’t fulfill my destiny without you…” 

Neall took his sweet time answering, stretching his back and yawning loudly.  “Fine.”

“I knew you’d agree! See ya soon!” 

After hanging up, Neall decided to lie there for a few moments listening to the wind rattling the branches of the trees outside. It was so cozy indoors, but he knew he would have to force himself to get out of bed. 

He didn’t bother fixing himself up, simply brushing his raven colored hair out of his face and throwing on an oversized trench coat to battle the stormy weather outside. Grabbing an umbrella, Neall stepped outside to face the typical cold December weather. 

Luckily, the suburbs were only a short walk from his apartment, so there was no need to drive. The calming sound of rain pattering onto the pavement along with the earthy smell of wet grass was rather relaxing. According to the forecast this would continue on through the night. Though many would complain, Neall didn’t mind one bit. The chilly wind picked up, threatening to carry away his umbrella, but he clung his only shield from the freezing drizzle. 

In all honesty, Neall had no idea where the crime scene actually was. What he did know, however, was where all the abandoned homes were. The closer to the countryside he got, the emptier and lonelier the suburbs became. Soon there were more dilapidated houses than occupied. 

Remnants of yellow caution tape fluttered in the wind. A single knot tied to the porch prevented them from blowing away. 

It was quiet.

That was the first aspect of the suburbs that Neall noticed. The Mamba was known to commit his crimes in the city, in places where he could strike fear into the hearts of those in the bustling crowds. Why of all places had he chosen this area? 

Maybe he was trying to lead them somewhere… 

A shadow in the corner of the property suddenly moved, catching the attention of Neall who was startled at the sudden appearance. “What are you doing here?!”

“Not even a hello? Wow, I’m insulted!” Asher gasped as he acted offended. 

The elder quickly pulled himself together, thinking of a witty comeback. “I just don’t like turning around and coming face to face with a weirdo.”

“Rude! I’m not a weirdo, I’m just quirky! I thought we already established that!”

The two laughed, warmly embracing each other. As he wrapped his arms around the smaller figure, it didn’t take long for Neall to realize his friend was shivering. 

“You idiot!” he exclaimed, taking off his coat to wrap around Ash. “Oy vey! You’re going to catch a cold and die if you don’t wear a thicker coat than this.”

“Thanks,” the blonde boy replied, burying himself in his only source of heat.

The chilly raindrops continued to fall harder and Neall just knew a downpour was beginning to start. “Let’s get inside. Hopefully it’ll be nice and toasty there.”

“An abandoned house? I don’t think so, but dream on.” 

As they traversed into the front yard of the home, Neall began to point out all the signs of its abandonment. What was originally a gravel path had been overgrown by weeds and other plants. Vines snaked their way up the porch and tattered blinds blew through the broken windows. As Asher had stated earlier, the door was left open, ever so slightly ajar but still inviting the two inside. He pushed it open, letting in a gust of the freezing air that caused him to shiver. 

Asher bounced past him, adjusting his back pack and ready to explore the secrets that the house held. “This looks like fun!”

“This is far from my definition of fun,” Neall bluntly stated as the floors creaked with every step he took. “But let’s see what we can find.” 

It didn’t take long for the young journalist to step into his element, notebook in hand and pencil scribbling down anything he saw, trying to absorb every detail for an article. Neall had seen a few of Ash’s works in the daily papers and was astonished with his skills. His writing was so fluent and engaging, gripping his attention and hooking him on its story, whether it be a tale of Cedarbrooke’s past or a rating of a new coffee shop. Neall had to agree that a tale about the abandoned suburb homes would be a pretty neat article to read. 

While Asher continued, pencil moving at the speed of light, Neall decided it would be a good time to  look around the different rooms. It was almost like the house was frozen in time, bowls and cereal still on the kitchen table, open books left on the sofa never to be finished. 

Something crunched under Neall’s shoes as he stepped into the living room and he glanced downwards to find a crumpled newspaper. He picked it up, reading the headline. 

“Project Atomicix throws Cedarbrooke Heights into a frenzy…” He mimicked aloud, skimming the rest of the report. 

“Oh, I’ve heard about that before!” Asher piped in from the kitchen where he examined the drawers one by one. “The science center burned down to the ground after rumors spread about it. This happened quite recently too, just about 15 years ago.”

Neall was intrigued, urging his friend to continue. “Yeah, I know the basics of it. What other details do you know?”

“A lot! My history professor said the building was on the outskirts not far from here, somewhere around the cornfields. The science center was working on a project called ‘Atomicix’ and were trying to make a substance that aided memory and other cool tricks like that. What they didn’t tell the public was that they were also experimenting on humans to perfect the serums. Somehow word leaked to the city and before the law enforcement could step in the locals set the place on fire, burning everything and everyone inside.” 

Neall stood in place, shocked at this new information. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

“You never asked!” Asher simply shrugged in response, continuing with his investigation. 

Sighing in response, Neall was amused to find it was cold enough to see his own breath. He tossed the paper back on the couch and continued his leisurely stroll around the home, stuffing his icy cold hands into the pockets of his jeans, the only ones he had left. Another door connected itself to the main area, calling him to explore it. 

The large bedroom seemed quite ordinary to him, pictures of a happy couple hanging on the plaster walls. A trail of broken glass, however, led him behind the king sized bed to a discoloration on the ground. Though long dried up, it was obvious what the puddle on the floor was. 

Neall stumbled backwards towards the closet taken aback by the sight of blood. Heart thumping he was about to call for Asher when his hand slipped from the back wall of the closet to an open gap. He fell through the hole and took a rough tumble down a flight of stairs eventually hitting the cold, hard floor, air knocked out of his lungs. 

Neall groaned, slowly rolling over in an effort to pull himself together. He inspected himself, still hearing his own blood rushing in his ears, relieved to find that he was all in one piece aside from a couple of small cuts and bruises. 

Finally struggling to his feet, he looked around. A children’s room was tucked behind the trap door, left completely untouched since the tragedy several years before. Light streamed in through what few windows the area had, all too high up to see out of. Something about it just felt oddly familiar, though he couldn’t quite place it. 

The walls and floor were all made up of stone, confirming Neall’s suspicions that this was some sort of basement. That also brought up the question as to why a child was living in a cellar that had a secret entrance through the back of a closet, but this he would have to ponder later on. 

He stepped over toy train tracks that stretched across the floors, marveling at the masterpieces the child had created out of his legos. The kid living there must have enjoyed reading books, especially nonfiction biographies as he had a collection of them stacked on his bedside table. There were a couple pictures stuck to the wall by pieces of scotch tape that caught Neall’s attention. 

An airplane with roughly scribbled clouds sketched in the background, a happy mother and child drawn in blue crayon, and a photograph of a woman. Her long dark hair fell to her shoulders and her smile radiated kindness. What really shocked Neall was her eyes, dark green, like an entire forest of trees… like Chris’ own. 

Before he could dive deeper into predictions, Neall heard his name being called from the floor above him accompanied by panicked footsteps. He grabbed the photo, ripping the tape off of the wall before heading back up the same stairs he fell down minutes earlier. 

“I’m here, Ash!” Neall called, pushing aside the dresses and jackets blocking the concealed entrance. 

Asher turned around from his spot above the dark red puddle, mouth agape as he watched his friend emerge out of a closet. If Neall knew him well enough, Asher probably got a bigger surprise seeing a scene out of the Chronicles of Narnia than a massive puddle of blood on the carpet. 

“Woah!” Ash gasped, “Where on earth did you come from?”

“The basement,” Neall responded, stretching his back. “I wouldn’t recommend going down there though, not unless you want to fall down an entire flight of stairs in the dark.”

Hearing the statement, Asher suddenly became concerned and upon further inspection he rushed up to the other boy, pulling a tissue out of his backpack and dabbing it on his cheek. The injury hadn’t bothered Neall before this point but after brushing his hand across his cheek he realized the extent of it. Though not at all that bad, it certainly was bleeding. 

“You idiot!” Asher scolded, “You’re the oldest one in our group and yet you’re also the clumsiest. You’re lucky though, it doesn’t look like it’ll need stitches.”

Neall couldn’t help but chuckle at Asher’s worried expression, his brows furrowed in concentration. “Hey, at least I’ll look pretty epic walking around with a scar on my face!”

Asher looked as if a single strand of willpower was the only thing stopping him from slapping the young man across the face but somehow he managed to keep his cool. “So what was down the rabbit hole, Alice?” he asked, his words dripping with satire but his face painted with a collected smile. 

Neall grinned back, teasing his friend. “Oh not much, just a prison!”

The color drained out of Asher’s face as his once calm expression changed to one of concern.

“What?!”

“Some criminals that lived in this house must’ve kept a child trapped down in the basement.”

“Who the hell keeps their kid locked up in a prison cell?” the blonde haired boy hissed in disgust. 

“Some deranged idiots of parents I guess…” Neall stated, the disappointment obviously written on his face. 

“Their hearts are as cold as my dorm room and that’s saying something since I can barely feel my own feet in that room. So pretty bloody cold.” 

“Yeah…” Neall scoffed, pulling the photo he collected out of his pocket. “I found this stuck on the wall down there… Who does it look like to you?”

Asher grabbed the picture from his hands, studying it closely. He froze in place, his voice catching in his throat before he rasped out a response. “Chris…” 

“The woman… It’s not like she’s definitely a relative of his or anything, but I just have this odd feeling it might be. Just look at their eyes.”

Ash slowly nodded in agreement, waiting for Neall to continue. 

“Well, I think we should show him this. How do you think he’d react though?”

“It could either give him a wonderful revelation or absolutely annihilate what little willpower to live he has left,” Asher proudly claimed. 

“Yeah but Chris is the living embodiment of ‘it could have been worse,’ so the least it can do is give him another existential crisis, right?” 

“Whatever the case may be, I agree. I think he needs to know…” Asher sighed. 

The room was filled with an eerie silence as the two stared at each other, neither wanting to say any more. 

“Should we head back?” Neall finally questioned. 

“Yeah,” Ash replied, wrapping himself in Neall’s coat as he headed towards the door. 

Neall followed closely behind his companion, but the sudden gust of cold wind coming through the doorway caused him to freeze in place. The bitter weather was unforgiving, but he had to make it home somehow. 

Luckily, Asher took notice of his hesitation. “I drove here, so get in the car! No way are you walking home in that, especially not after you gave me your coat!” 

Neall muttered a small thank you as he strode to the passenger side of the small blue SUV, Asher running to his station behind the wheel before starting the engine and turning the heaters up to the highest setting. He took off the oversized trench coat, wrapping it around its rightful owner. 

“The photo is in the right pocket by the way,” he announced, clicking around a few more controls before finding the seat warmers. “Ready to go?”

“Yup. Let’s head out.” Neall nodded, warming his hands in front of the air vents. 

Ash flipped on the headlights after spotting a thick fog forming in the distance. Neall rested his elbow on the door, gazing out the window as the house slowly disappeared. He caught a glimpse of himself in the side mirror, his hand moving to the scar on his cheek which was nothing but a dried scab now, though still tender to touch. 

It was worth it though, to hopefully find some useful information. Grabbing the evidence from his pocket, Neall tilted the photo in his hand back and forth, watching the light sensitive film glimmer in the streetlight outside. He still wondered if it truly was a beneficial idea to give it to Chris. 

Though Christopher never showed them, Neall knew deep down how fragile he was. Like one minor dilemma could send his whole life into a downward spiral. He was clinging onto what few reasons kept him alive. All Neall would do was give him another issue to worry about. Yet Chris still deserved to know. 

The car pulled up to the station as Asher attempted to find an open parking spot, finally achieving his goal around the back of the building. Taking a moment to collect himself, Neall stepped out of the vehicle, clinging onto his coat. He dashed to the front door holding it open for his comrade, the door slamming behind them. The duo locked eyes breathing heavily from their impromptu escapade from the wintery air, both snorting in laughter at their antics the moment before. 

“Ahem,” a familiar voice cleared their throat. 

Neall whipped around to come face to face with the police chief himself. “Hello Chief Dalton,” he hurriedly greeted, “We were just here to-”

“Visit the Black Mamba taskforce, yes I know,” Dalton chuckled, patting Asher on the back and offering Neall a curt nod. “Off you go boys!” 

“Thank you sir,” Asher responded, bowing deeply much to the chief’s astonishment.

Dalton barked a command playfully at the frequent visitors. “You heard me! Skedaddle!!”

Neall grabbed Ash’s arm before he could do anything else stupid and dragged him off towards the taskforce’s office. He politely knocked on the door awaiting the “Come in!” greeting before bursting through the entrance, Asher in tow. 

Taj’s face lit up with a welcoming smile as he got up from his chair to give the visitors a hug. “This is a surprise! We weren’t expecting to see you guys today!” 

“Neither did we!” Ash exclaimed, returning the embrace before walking with open arms towards Zelene who sat with her laptop, nestled in the beanbag chairs with a disgusted look on her face. “Oh come on! You know you love us!” 

Ze made an unsuccessful attempt to scramble out of her burrow but was promptly tackled by Ash. As the desperate screaming ensued, Neall made his way over to Chris who never bothered to look up from his computer, the sound of a mouse clicking still prominent as ever. 

“Too busy to even say hello, huh?” Neall sighed, resting his chin on top of the busybody’s head and observing his work. 

“Mh-hm. Even with the clue we still can’t find any information on the Mamba. I’ve been searching for hours.” 

“Speaking of clues, Ash and I decided to check out an abandoned house and-”

“An abandoned house?!” Chris cried, finally looking up from his work with a now admonishing expression on his face. “What were you two thinking? You could’ve been hurt!” He paused for a moment, his eyes widening as his gaze fell upon the small yet noticeable scar on Neall’s cheek. “You were hurt, you idiots!!” 

“Woah! No I wasn’t! I just got in a fight with the stairs… and totally lost…” Neall deflected the attack, holding his hands up in defeat. He reached into his pocket pulling out the photo and placed it on the desk in Chris’ reach. “We found this in the basement which had been somehow transformed into a prison cell of sorts.”

“What the actual hell were you doing in the basement?” 

“Just look at the picture would you!!”

Taj meandered over to the desk, brimming with curiosity as he peered over Chris’ shoulder to sneak a glance. “Woah! Look at those eyes!” 

The duo on the beanbags ceased their attacks to take a peek too, also shocked at the resemblance. 

“Aw! They kinda look familiar, not gonna lie.” Ze cooed, nudging the elder man’s shoulder. 

Neall had received a reaction from everyone but the subject himself. He continued to study Chris’ expressions but didn’t notice a difference. His eyes looked somewhat glazed, an absent demeanor that was the stark opposite of the excitement that had taken over the rest of the group surrounding him. 

“It looked like she was involved in a crime scene, so maybe you can scroll through the past cases in the area?” Ash suggested. “I’d be able to recognize the house if you can pull it up.”

“Let’s check the system!” Taj eagerly insisted as Ze gathered her laptop from the beanbags before clicking away in the database, matching up the information carefully. She discovered an image of the exact house, the title of the article listed as ‘Murder in the Abandoned Suburbs’ before opening the link and reading off the information. “Case was closed 15 years ago the same day of the Atomicix fiasco. A young woman, Marilyn Sinclair was murdered in her own home, gunshot to the head. No further evidence was found about the murderer but the rest of the house was left basically untouched.”

“Anything about a kid?” Ash questioned.

“No files can be found with any evidence towards her having a child.”

“Damn. Can we at least find an image of the victim to confirm it was her?” 

After some more clicks from the mouse and keyboard, an image popped up in the browser. Though the resolution was quite low, her resemblance to Chris was clear enough to see. 

Chris still had his eyes glued to the spitting image of the woman as he shook his head, denying their hopes. 

“I never knew my parents!” he rebuked the group. “And I honestly don’t care to find out who they are anyways. Besides, my last name is Gibbs, not Sinclair.” 

“What is the earliest memory you have?” Asher prompted, still not willing to give up that easily. 

It was clear Chris was getting impatient as he stood up from his seat and started pacing away from the group. “I grew up in the orphanage and thanks to them that is all I can remember.” 

“And what about Matthew? Did he know anything?” 

An awkward hush engulfed the room as Asher took it a step too far. Neall grimmaced, holding his breath in preparation for the worst. 

Ash, immediately realizing his mistake, began to apologize. “Chris, I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t mean to-” 

“It’s fine.” 

“Huh?” 

Chris turned his back to the group, heading for the door. Tone still surprisingly calm, he repeated his words, “I said it’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” 

The members of the group stood in silence, not knowing what to say next. Nervous glances were passed between them as Chris bundled up to leave. 

“I’m going for a stroll,” he stated with a sigh. 

“But it’s raining!” Taj objected, clearly concerned for his friend’s health. 

“Nothing like walking alone in the rain.”

Suddenly leaving the others behind, Neall walked up beside Chris, snatching up his trenchcoat and opening the office door. Turning back, he locked eyes with Chris, raising his eyebrows in invitation. 

“You cannot be that dense. Didn’t you hear what I just said?”

“Yeah but I chose to ignore it.” Neall bluntly stated. 

After another moment of intense eye contact, Chris gave in. He swept past Neall, heading through the lobby and into the unwelcoming chilly weather outside. Neall paused, offering the group a nod to confirm that he had the situation handled before shutting the door to focus on their troubled friend. 

He caught up with Chris who seemed to be walking purposefully faster than usual and kept pace with him to prove that there was no escape from his company. 

Neall pulled on his hood to shelter himself from the rain but the icy drops still fell on his face, offering some relief from the sting of his cheek. The wind nipped at his hands to the point where he questioned whether or not it was possible to get frostbite from the cruel weather. 

After strolling in silence for several minutes Neall suddenly spoke up. 

“So, how’s life?”

Chris shot his companion a judging glance. “What sort of question was that?”

Neall shrugged, happy that he at least got a response to his absolutely dumb query. 

“It’s brilliant,” the taskforce leader sarcastically replied. “Just brilliant.” 

“Cool.” 

The awkward silence consumed the duo once more, only the sound of their footsteps and the droplets of rain hitting the concrete surrounding them. Neall took a moment to think of another question, breathing in the earthy smell of petrichor.

“So… What’s your favorite color?” 

“Neall. We’ve known each other for years now. Damn, you really suck at conversations…” Chris finally gave in, chuckling silently to himself. 

“Yeah, I’m certainly no extrovert!” the elder confirmed with a smirk, “Conversations aren’t really my forte.” 

“I can tell… But my favorite color is black for your information.”

“I expected nonetheless from a dark, broody man such as yourself.” 

“Ha! Speak for yourself!” 

Neall hummed in response, stuffing his hands in his pockets and blowing into the winter air, watching a puff of warmth appear in front of him as his breath met the windy chill. 

“Black is my favorite color too,” Neall finally answered. 

Chris softly chuckled, teasingly bumping into his walking companion. “Well that’s one thing we have in common.”

“Yeah, one out of many…” the latter sighed, resulting in Chris’ inquisitive glance. 

“What else do you have in mind?”

Neall hesitated, fiddling with a loose string hanging off of his coat. “Well uh- I guess responsibilities and burdens and all… Being the two oldest in this group is quite the exhausting occupation to have.”

“Yeah, I honestly don’t know how I deal with your antics. I feel like I lose ten years off of my life whenever I’m with you guys.” 

“Damn, you must be ancient by now!” 

“Oh shut up!” Chris joked. 

A comfortable silence fell around the two as they continued on their way, the splashes of their boots in the puddles sending water droplets scattering. 

After turning onto a street lined with leafless trees and small apartments, Neall finally noticed where Chris was heading. 

“Are you going to chill at home now?” 

“Yeah, it’s been a long day…” 

Neall nodded. “Yeah, you deserve the rest.”

Suddenly, his phone buzzed in his pocket which Neall initially ignored. Soon enough though, the constant notifications became annoying and it was clear that Chris had been receiving them too as he pulled his phone out and scrolled through the group chat. Neall followed suit and was met with a string of messages. 

The Chaos Court 🔥

ASH 🖊️ : Hiya! I have a dance at my university tonight and I was wondering if y’all might want to come? There will be free refreshments and mocktails! 

Zebra 🦓 : You had me at the refreshments ✨

Taj :)  : I’ll be there! What time? 

ASH 🖊️ : 10 PM at the Commons building

Taj :)  : Awesome! Thanks!!

ASH 🖊️ : WBU Neall and Chris?

“Looks like they’re planning to meet up again tonight, huh?” Chris muttered under his breath. 

Neall hummed in response, truly wondering if Chris would be up to another outing after the previous events. “Well, see you tonight?” he asked hopefully. 

Chris arrived at his apartment, back still turned to his companion. He climbed the stairs and unlocked the front door, leaving Neall hanging in an uneasy silence. He finally turned around to face the dark haired man, his mouth turned upward in a slight smile. “See you tonight, Neall.” 

Neall returned the grin and waved as Chris closed the door behind him. He was alone once more but this time satisfied with his work. Neall pulled out his phone to fire off a quick text to the expectant group.

The Chaos Court 🔥

Neall: We’ll be there. 

ASH 🖊️ : Yay!! Cya at 10! 🎉

───────  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ♠ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───────

The campus was bustling with anticipation. 

The University of Cedarbrooke Heights, also abbreviated as UCH, was the only one of its kind in the entire city. Once you graduated you had to choose between two options: get a job and stick to it for life or pursue a higher education at UCH. Unlike the rest of his friends, Asher chose the latter. Out of the few degree options that were offered, Ash chose to pursue the art of writing. 

Writing had been Asher’s escape from the hardships of life. Whether he was feeling upset or frustrated or simply just needed a break, he would always turn to his notebook. Pen moving swiftly across the paper, inscribing words from line to line, Asher had the ability to write anything he wanted. From poems and diary entries to stories and novels, the world was in his hands and Ash couldn’t be happier. It became his dream for his words to be read by others and there was no better place to start than writing for the Cedarbrooke Daily newspaper company. 

Nowadays, it was rare to find someone who still read the newspaper but whatever the case may be, Asher knew that someone somewhere in the city had to be reading his own original work. Luckily for him, Ash had at least one avid reader. Neall was the first person to discover that the writer of the numerous articles had been Ash and the author himself had been overjoyed to see his friend’s excitement. Heck, Neall even asked him for an autograph that he claimed to put in a frame and hang up on his living room wall. 

After Neall came some of Ash’s writing and literature professors at UCH. Even though Asher felt rather accomplished and proud of his work, they always had some critical feedback to give him which Ash always received with an open mind. After all, he was still a straight ‘A’ student.

Maybe one day Asher might have the confidence to publish a novel? It was a slight problem that he never knew what to write about. He was notorious for starting a story that appealed to him and trashing it after a couple chapters. At least news articles were a bit more forgiving.

Here he sat, outside the UCH Commons Building, dressed in a suit and equipped with a jacket, a scrap piece of paper and a ballpoint pen in hand. He clicked the top of the pen in a rhythmic pattern, contemplating what to write next but his crumpled page still remained blank. The wind attempted in vain to steal away the paper, but Ash’s grip stayed firm. Maybe writing outside wasn’t the best idea…

Asher checked his watch, the analog clock reading 9:56 PM. He knew the group would be there at any moment but the excitement kept him waiting in anticipation, leg bobbing up and down. His expectant eyes scanned the crowds, searching for a familiar face, eventually landing upon the recognizable vibrant purple hair and round glasses of the taskforce techie. 

Zelene had somehow spotted her friend, somehow managing to dash over to his bench in her impossibly high looking heels. Asher’s face lit up as he urged her on. “You look stunning tonight! Give me a twirl!”

Ze obediently spun around with a cackle, her sequin midnight blue gown floating elegantly around her as she held onto her furry white cardigan. Hearing a round of applause from behind him, Ash turned around to find Neall and Taj who had recently arrived just in time for the show, the former clapping his hands as the latter stood with his mouth agape at the sight. Both had similar suits and matching red ties, clearly having coordinated the look together. 

After a prompt greeting, Ash checked the line again as it had rapidly shrunk in the past couple of minutes, everyone making their way indoors to escape the cold. 

“Are you sure Chris is coming?” Ze questioned him. “It is 10:02 now.”

“You know Christopher,” Taj momentarily responded, “He’s always late. If you’re getting too cold we can head in though… I’m sure he’ll catch up!” 

As Taj led the group towards the end of the line, Asher craned his neck in a final desperate attempt to pick out Chris’ figure but to no avail. With a sigh, he confirmed the worst. “I guess he isn’t coming…” 

“Don’t say that!” Neall promptly interjected, whipping out his phone to check for any texts. “I’ve known him for long enough that I can validate that he’ll be here soon. He wouldn’t lie to me, it just isn’t like him.  Just wait and see.”

The immeasurable guilt that Ash still felt from earlier was consuming him. “If he doesn’t come it’s probably my fault… I shouldn’t have said that earlier. I wasn’t really thinking and it just came out, I-” 

“No ‘ifs’ Ash.” Taj patted him on the back, providing some comfort in his predicament. “I believe that good old Chris will arrive anytime now. And stop dwelling on the past. We all make mistakes, it’s okay!”

Zelene joined in too. “Yeah and I know Chris is a very forgiving person. The amount of times I’ve teased him to the point of him losing his temper is insane, but he still loves me nonetheless!”

“And how exactly do you know he still loves you?” Neall teasingly pestered. 

“I would likely be rotting in a grave by now if that man held grudges.”

The squad broke out in quiet chuckles, still forcing their minds to avoid thinking of the possibility of their friend alone at his apartment, missing out on the fun and the excitement to come. 

“May I ask why you all look so depressed?” 

Asher spun around to see Christopher standing there, all dressed up in a tidy suit. He had taken the time and effort to style his hair for the occasion too much to his surprise. Ash engulfed him in an embrace feeling his captive stiffen in response but he didn’t care. 

“And we thought you’d never arrive, you tardy tortoise!” Ze scolded, grabbing Ash by the shoulder to separate the two much to Chris’ relief. “You’re so clingy, Asher!” 

Ash wouldn’t deny that statement. He loved giving people hugs and he was fully prepared to face the judgement that came along with it. It was like a part of him that he could never get rid of. 

“Yeah… sorry about that.” Chris sheepishly shrugged. “I didn’t realize it would take this long to make myself look approachable.”

“You always look approachable! As long as you aren’t tired… and immersed in work, and actually look unapproachable most of the time…” Ze muttered to herself. 

“Zelene, that’s not helpful.” Neall snorted, trying his best not to laugh at Chris’ confused expression. “Enough of this, let’s head inside!” 

Neall marched towards the doors, the rest of the group trailing behind him and into the bustling atmosphere of the dance. The music blared loudly as the young adults laughed and cheered, dancing in the spotlights. The noise of people talking over the volume of the speakers and the glasses and plates clinking together welcomed them inside. 

Within seconds, everyone went their own ways. Ze ran straight for the dance floor, Neall ambled over to the refreshments and Chris retreated to find an open table leaving Asher and Taj on their own at the entrance. 

Asher studied the scene as a slow dance song began to play over the speakers and the dancers grabbed their partners. Zelene didn’t have one, but that wasn’t going to stop her as she tuned in to the music, swaying back and forth almost as if dancing with an imaginary man. Meanwhile, Taj’s gaze was fixated on one person and one person only. 

Zelene was all Taj could see. He was absolutely mesmerized, immersed in her demeanor as she flitted across the dance floor brimming in confidence. He adjusted his tie and brushed down his hair in preparation for the big question, but it was evident that he couldn’t do it alone. 

“Taj,” Asher whispered, leaning in towards the boy. 

“Hm?”

“You should go ask her to dance!”

“No! I mean- I can’t do that… I just-”

Asher noticed that what little courage Taj had was rapidly diminishing as he shrunk into himself. He instead took advantage of the moment, grabbing his companion’s wrist and dragging him towards the girl. “C’mon! I’ll go with you!” 

Too stunned to speak, Taj allowed himself to be pulled into the crowd. Asher waded his way through the sea of people, muttering his apologies as he went, finally waving down Zelene. 

“Hey Ze! Taj wants to ask you something!” he yelled over the blasting stereos. 

The young woman quickly stopped her jive and skipped to the two locking eyes with Taj.

“Uh… hey?” he stammered, his face turning a slight tinge of red as he rubbed the back of his neck in a bashful habit. 

“Hey!” Ze greeted, patiently awaiting what she already knew was coming. 

“Um. Would you like- I mean if you want to of course. It’s totally up to you, but… Did you by any chance want to dance with me?” 

Zelene’s smile beamed even brighter at the invitation as she offered her hand to her new dance partner. “Of course I’ll dance with you, you big scaredy cat!” 

Taj grinned as he looked back at his savior before being towed away to the center of the floor. 

Satisfied with his work, Asher pushed his way through the swarm of dancers and back to the entrance. 

“Ha! Nice one!” Neall chuckled from the sidelines, food stuffed in his mouth. 

“You watched the whole thing?” Asher scoffed at his buddy’s antics and Neall nodded in response, offering him a macaron which he gladly accepted. 

“Taj really needs to step up his game and ask her out already. It’s so glaringly obvious!” laughed Neall and Ash couldn’t agree more. 

Finishing off the rest of his treats, Neall tossed the paper plate in a nearby trash can, brushing off his hands before an idea crossed his mind. He smirked at Ash who immediately caught on to the scheme. 

“Oh good sir,” Neall teased, bowing respectfully as his partner grabbed his hand. “Would you care for a dance?”

“Well of course I would!” the blonde haired boy snickered. 

The next hour seemed to fly by in a blur as the two danced, nearly tripping each other on multiple occasions. Two fully grown men frolicing around the side of a busy dance floor would have been quite the sight to see, but they were having so much fun laughing at each other's antics to care. 

Out of breath and exhausted, they eventually took a break to watch Zelene and Taj twirl across the floor, illuminated by the bright lights. 

“I’m going to get some more of those mini corn dogs!” Neall announced, rising from his chair and sauntering away. “I’m getting hungry again.” 

Ash waved goodbye. “See you later!” 

He was left alone once more with only his thoughts. Neall needed to rejuvenate his energy with some food, Ze and Taj were having the time of their lives on the dance floor, and Chris… 

All the guilt washed over Asher in an instant. He was hopeless. The whole reason for planning this was to make sure Chris was okay. This was his own fault and yet here he was, dancing his problems away as the victim of his stupidity stood on the sidelines. 

Jolting out of his seat, Ash strode behind the tables, passing through the crowds until he found Chris. He stood against the back wall, swirling a mocktail in his hand and observing the room full of partiers from afar. Spotting Asher, he raised his free hand in a greeting. 

“Hey Chris…” Ash stuttered, inhaling deeply before spilling his regrets. “I apologize. I got a bit carried away when we arrived and ended up leaving you alone.”

“That’s fine!” Chris smiled. “I got a nice drink and I’m happy back here where it's more quiet anyways.”

Asher continued to apologize, choosing not to take Chris’ statement as absolution for his mistakes. “It’s okay to be mad at me about what happened earlier today… I know what I said was disrespectful and rude and I’m so sorry.”

“No worries, I’m already over it.”

“Chris, no. I really am sorry, please-”

Suddenly, Chris swiftly dropped his drink on the table and grabbed his hands, squeezing them tightly as he said the very words that Ash had needed to hear with the utmost sincerity. “Asher. Listen to me. It is okay. Please don’t worry about me, I forgive you.” 

Asher couldn’t control himself. His once regulated breathing began to shake and he felt himself begin to tremble. His eyes welled with unshed tears as he attempted to calm down but with little success. Chris noticed this and walked him over to a nearby table, forcing Ash to sit on an open chair as he knelt in front of him, still holding his friend’s hands firmly. 

“Ash, hey. Are you okay? What’s wrong?” 

The bombardment of sudden questions seemed to make the situation worse as Asher wiped away stray tears that had begun to fall down his face. “I-I’m fine.” His voice came out more wobbly than he expected it to be. 

His heart was beating too fast. It was becoming hard to breathe. Chris had said something but over the overwhelming sound of the music and the ringing in his ears he just couldn’t hear it. Asher was on his feet, being led through the crowds by Chris’ steady arms. Dark spots swarmed his vision and his head felt too impossibly light. His whole body was shaking. He couldn’t breathe. And right before the walls caved in on him…

There was silence. 

Cold, wet droplets pattered on his face. The winter air finally filled his lungs. His blurry vision steadily returned. He ran his fingers across the rocky pebbles on the ground. 

Asher was outside in the quiet of the night, the rain seeping through his suit, the wind nipping at his skin. And Chris simply sat there, providing only the comfort of his presence. 

Wordlessly, Chris took off his coat and wrapped it over Ash’s shoulders like a warm blanket. 

“D-don’t you need that?” Asher barely managed to whisper. 

“No. I’m not cold.”

Chris gazed down at Ash, brushing a soaked strand of his golden hair out of the other’s face. This wasn’t the first time he had to deal with one of Asher’s panic attacks yet he wouldn’t brag about being experienced at dealing with them. All Chris knew was that the first step to preventing Ash’s meltdowns was to get him to a quiet place where they could be together alone. 

Asher murmured something, hardly audible but still loud enough for Chris to pick it up. “I’m sorry.”

“Shhh,” Chris hushed. “I understand.”

Asher adjusted the way he was sitting, slumped up against Chris, and built up the energy to finally look around. They were positioned under a sheltered part of the Commons center where the roof jutted out, transforming into a pavilion. Though the rain couldn’t directly hit them, whenever the wind blew the two were still in range of the frigid droplets. The campus was dark, the trees acting as an umbrella, shading it from the reach of the moon’s beams. Only the distant lake was illuminated, ripples from the raindrops scattering its waters as the waves glittered in the light from the moon. It was quite a stark contrast from the void surrounding it.

There Asher and Chris remained, losing track of time as the party goers meandered to their rides. They trickled out one by one, bundled in coats and rain jackets, umbrellas up to battle the stormy weather. 

“That’s 87…” Asher muttered, counting yet another departing attendee. 

Chris nodded in response. “Do you suppose it’s over?”

“Mhm.”

“I guess the others should be out of there soon.” 

What began as a slow crawl soon escalated into a wave. Luckily no one in the swarms had spotted the two near the back of the building where they blended in with the darkness. Asher couldn’t handle the embarrassment of bumping into anyone he knew after virtually disappearing from the dance. Not like he knew anyone at the university well enough for them to notice he wasn’t even there.

“There you are!!” Neall’s relieved voice rang from outside the building's entrance. “We were looking everywhere for you two! Taj even worried that you got kidnapped by the Mamba!” 

“Did not!” Taj exclaimed, faking an offended look. “I was just listing possibilities. That was all…” 

Zelene marched over towards where the two sat, making her disapproval known. “Speaking of concern, why are y’all sitting out here in the piercing cold? If one of you comes down with a cold I know exactly why!”

Chris waited a moment to see if Asher would respond but hearing only silence, decided to speak up for him. “Ash just needed to take a breather from the noise. So we went outside.” 

A hush fell over the trio as the realization sunk in. 

Moving closer to the others on the ground, Neall took a spot beside them, cuddling closer to the smaller figure slumped against Chris. “You doing okay, Ash?” 

“Much better now,” Asher replied for the first time since the group was reunited. 

“Good. That’s all I need to know.” 

Taking Taj’s hand, Zelene guided him towards the clump and fit themselves right at the end of the line. Curling into Taj, Ze searched for a bit of warmth which the latter gladly provided, wrapping the girl in his coat as a tender smile spread across his face. 

The sense of quiet intimacy spread across the group as they sat in silence, listening to the noise surrounding them. The wooden frame of the pavilion creaked with every gust of wind and the sound of pounding raindrops on its roof echoed around the shelter. 

The rain was falling in sheets, soaking everything outside the safety of the pavilion. Dark reflective puddles built up on the gravel ground and the water began to collect into a small river, leading down to the lake. 

Chris always loved rain. It was mysterious yet beautiful, bringing both memories of joy and of pain. The downpour was relentless but to him it created a tranquil but familiar atmosphere. 

It was raining. That was all. He was back in the orphanage and there was a storm, a mild one with lightning in the distance. It was one that he and Matthew would sit at their window to watch, uncaring of the stray droplets that made their way through the window to soak into the clothes. Only this time, when Chris gazed over beside him, Matthew’s warm smile was replaced with four, distinct but caring nonetheless. And suddenly, just like that, the world felt a little less lonely. 

Chapter Text

The morning light hadn’t begun to flood through the window quite yet, but Chris was more than awake. 

He had already decided that he would be heading to the department alone. Stepping out into the frosty morning air, he hugged his jacket just a bit closer in an attempt to trap what little heat kept him from freezing to death. He looked at his watch, the time slightly obscured by the condensation beginning to form on its face.  

Technically Chris could have taken the car instead, but he felt like his early morning walks were so deeply ingrained in his lifestyle that switching things up could throw off his entire day. Yes, that sounded ridiculous, but for someone as habit-bound as him it just wouldn’t do. 

The station was soon in sight, obstructed by the fog but still visible. It wouldn’t be long before it would be covered in snow. After all, Christmas was just around the corner. With the amount of joy surrounding the city as everyone prepared for their festive celebrations, Chris felt as if his loneliness was becoming exceedingly more obvious. Families strolled around the town square to finish last minute Christmas shopping, couples explored the vibrant decorations with hot chocolate in hand and yet here Chris was, all on his own. He had friends of course, but it still felt like something was missing. 

Christmas had disappeared with Matthew.

Chris hurried along towards the front doors of the station, finding the entrance and waiting room to be abandoned. At 5 AM in the morning, it was to be expected but still, it would have been nice to have received a warm greeting. 

The lightswitches had been left untouched since the previous night, only a couple rays from the street lights shining through the blinds. A soft glow radiated in the dark hall from a door slightly ajar, coming right from Chief Dalton’s office. 

It had been a while since Chris had properly talked to him. Both had been too caught up in the chaos that the Mamba had created to have time anyways. Maybe now would be the best time to check in with Dalton, something Chris had been dreading for months on end. No progress had been made on the case. None at all. And he was the one who had to report the news. 

Exhaling slowly, Chris brushed a hand through his dark hair in an effort to shake off his nerves. He paused for a moment before working up the courage to finally knock on the door. 

“Come in!”

The office felt warm and inviting, the glow of a desk lamp illuminating the room. Medals and framed newspaper articles spanned the walls and the bookshelf in the back was neat and tidy. The chair in front of the desk was already waiting for Chris as the chief’s hand extended toward it. “Take a seat, Officer Gibbs! I’m glad to see you.” 

Complying to the offer, Chris tried to relax into the padded office chair, his posture as awkward as ever as he greeted his superior. 

“Chief Dalton Sir, how are you this morning?” 

“Very good. I assumed that the office would be rather empty this morning with the upcoming winter storm and all. I had time to do some research into the Mamba case but I realize that not much progress has been made?” 

Though Chris had been expecting the question, he still felt as if he was caught off guard. Stuttering, he tried to answer, “Well… we did find a couple of details about what he wears but no patterns in sites have been found yet and-”

“Ha!” Dalton’s booming laughter cut him off mid-sentence, “A slippery vermin like the Mamba won’t just be dropping information back and forth, so no surprise your team hasn’t found much yet!” 

“Oh.”

Dalton grinned seeing the young cop’s perplexed expression as he made the decision to test him. “Officer Gibbs, of course we have the option to put a new squad up to the job. I know it is long and arduous and you three deserve a break…”

“No!” Chris exclaimed before the embarrassment over his sudden outburst washed over him. “I mean, no sir. My team doesn't need a break- at least not yet. The case files may not say it yet but I just know we are getting closer. I won’t give up until we find him.” 

“That was all I needed to hear.” The chief fondly smiled, providing Chris with a curt nod. “I do have some advice if you would like to take it.”

“Yes, anything will help!”

“Okay. I believe, Officer Gibbs, that the only way we will be able to catch the Mamba is by being at the site of the attack.” 

Chris thought to himself for a second, trying to comprehend the information. “Pardon me, sir. But how?”

“We split the taskforce up, each with their own squad for safety. The groups will stay in charge of a certain area. One for the suburbs, two for the city. Search for suspicious activity and hope that one of you might catch him in the act.” 

“Do you suppose it will work?” Chris questioned hopefully.

“It may not work right away, but I do believe that if you keep it up every night it will eventually work out.” 

Chris hummed in agreement, mentally calculating the consequences of the plan.

“That may mean that we won't see you each morning of course,” Dalton added. “You’ll likely want to catch up on that lost sleep, but that isn’t much of a worry as I have plenty of officers eager to work.” 

“I hardly get any sleep to begin with…” the younger cop chuckled. 

Dalton laughed alongside him. “Yeah, I figured.”

The two sat in comfortable silence, enjoying each other’s company for a moment as the chief took a sip of his coffee. Unexpectedly, both phones buzzed at the same time with a notification. 

Chris reflexively whipped the device out of his pockets and scanned the screen for the message:

Cedarbrooke Heights Emergency Department

Officer Jaewon Kim: Main street is in panic over a suspected Mamba attack. A possible suspect has been trapped in the building. We need backup ASAP. Here is the GPS location.

“The main street donut shop?” Chris questioned out loud. 

Dalton grunted in response, “Some place for a murder… And a possible suspect? They may be onto something…”

Promptly, Chris rose from his chair, grabbing his bag that was lying on the floor beside him. He shallowly bowed to his superior as a goodbye notion before heading for the door. 

Instead, Dalton’s chair scratched along the floor behind him as the man also gathered his supplies, stopping Chris in his tracks. 

“Is there a problem, sir?” worried Chris. 

“None at all. I figured I might tag along myself if you wouldn’t mind?” 

Shocked at the new addition to the Mamba taskforce, the young man nodded. Dalton motioned to him to lead on and the two entered one of the department’s vehicles together, the elder connecting the coordinates to the car’s navigation system. 

Backing up out of the parking spot and heading onto the main road, the rest of the drive was decently silent. The occasional notification buzzed on their phones with an update of the situation, mostly related to crowd control, but other than that the only sounds that could be heard was the whir of the heaters and the crunch of the tires on the cement. 

Weaving his way through several city streets, Chris made a left turn onto Main Street, encountering issues with traffic. 

“Now would be the best time to turn on those sirens…” Dalton reached below the stereo to turn the knob. The piercing wail filled the air as the cars ahead made their attempts to move out of the oncoming vehicle’s way. 

Chris worked with what little space he had to squeeze between the lanes and quickly made it to the road blockade. On the other side of the barriers was a massive crowd, pressed up against the donut shop’s entrance. 

Finding a spot on the side of the street to park, Chris exited the cop car, slamming the door. Dalton followed closely behind as eyes turned towards the duo. Chris had never been good in crowds, but Dalton’s mere appearance parted the citizens like the Red Sea. 

Trailing closely behind the chief, Chris winded down the center of the crowd, eventually making it to the front. Sure enough, Zelene and Taj were already at the scene along with a handful of other cops who tried to hold back the noisy mob. 

Zelene was hard at work, picking away at the lock on the front doors as Taj had his handgun pointed straight at the head of a dishevelled figure on the other side of the glass in case of a sign of aggression that never came. 

A small boy, reminiscent of a high school student, was curled up on the floor inside the donut shop, fear painted visibly across his face. His hazel colored eyes met Chris’ own but he quickly averted his attention to something inside the backpack that he was clutching onto. A fluffy gray speckled cat peered out from the depths of the bag, leaning into the brown haired boy’s shaking hands. 

“Chris!” Taj recognized his recently arrived partner, weapon still fixated on its target. “So glad to see you here!” 

He also quickly spotted the taller man behind the taskforce leader, his jaw dropping in surprise. “Chief Dalton!” 

“Officer Meyers,” the Chief greeted back, “Care to explain the situation?” 

“Yessir. When we arrived the mob was packed around the entrance to the shop, blocking someone in, so we had to do crowd control. Talking to some of the people, we found that this kid was found in the shop with the corpse and what could potentially be a bomb. The doors are locked shut but Zelene is trying to get through it. Not too sure what to do with the boy though…  What’s your input?”

“He doesn’t look like he is affiliated with the Mamba,” Chris interjected as he observed the kid’s subtly trembling form. 

“But what if that’s what the Mamba wants us to think, though?” Dalton inquired with a steady tone, “We have to be cautious. I say treat him with kindness but still take him in for questioning.” 

Nodding his head in hesitant agreement, Chris swiftly took control of the scene once Taj dropped the aim of his firearm away from the young man’s head. “Ze, how long will it take to finish that?” 

The clicking of the tools in the keyhole paused for a moment as Ze halted her attempts. “It’s pretty stuck. I suspect I’ll be working on it for another five minutes.” 

Gazing back through the shop windows, Chris caught a glimpse of the possible bomb, the colored wires poking out of the small metal contraption in the corner of the room. 

Almost as if he read the taskforce leader’s mind Dalton spoke up, “The bomb squad’s on their way. They don’t arrive for another three minutes. Let’s break the glass.” 

Chris walked up to the front window, kneeling on the pavement right in front of the boy. 

“Hey! Can you hear me?” he raised his voice in an attempt to be heard through the barrier. Receiving a small nod in reply, Chris continued, “We’re going to try to break the glass! Could you hide behind a table so the shards don’t fly at you?” 

The curly haired boy scrambled to his feet, scooping up his backpack and cat before crouching underneath the nearest shelter. 

“Okay, does anyone have a baton?” 

The taller cop positioned behind Taj unclipped the item from his belt and handed it over. “Gibbs, use mine,” Officer Kim joked. “Just make sure to return it in one piece.”

After double checking that the boy inside the building was safe from danger, Chris gripped onto the baton. A single sharp swing. Then impact. Shards exploded around the room with a sickening crack, scattering across the tile floors. The sound echoed across the now hushed crowd as Chris ducked through the jagged hole. 

The fragments of broken glass under his boots crunched with every step he took towards the boy. The closer he got, the louder the eerie ticking of the bomb became. 

Chris crouched down to the high-schooler’s level, extending his hand in invitation. “Let’s get out of here, shall we?” 

The boy smiled in response, his round eyes full of genuine appreciation and a few unshed tears of relief.

Just then, the recently arrived bomb squad burst onto the scene, ushering the two away from the area of danger. It was all a blur of chaos as Chris grabbed onto the younger’s shoulder guiding him outside where Dalton was telling the crowd to head home, away from the area of a possible explosion. Taj and Ze were heading back to their vehicles as their job was done and Chris followed suit. 

Noticing where they were going, the boy suddenly halted, stopping in his tracks. The fright finally set in as he refused to move. 

“Hey, take a breath for me, will you?” Chris urged as calmly as possible, taking the kid’s shaking hands in his own, providing a reassuring squeeze. “I promise you aren’t getting arrested. My team and I only need to ask a couple questions about the scene, that’s all! We won't bite!” he added with a grin. 

Relief washed over Chris as the smaller boy let out a silent chuckle. 

“My name is Chris, by the way. I feel as though we can talk casually, no need for formalities.” 

The kid hesitated briefly before pulling something out of his pocket. Scratching letters out onto a small green notepad, he handed it over to Chris, watching him expectantly. 

“Hi, my name is Joseph.” Chris read aloud, looking back at the boy with a questioning glance. 

Joseph snatched back the notepad out of the officer’s hands, pen scribbling another sentence. 

You can call me Jo though, it’s probably easier :)

Chris hummed in satisfaction, checking to make sure the chief had already left with another group of officers before opening the passenger side door to the car. “After you, Jo!” 

Nodding in thanks, Joseph slipped his backpack off of his shoulder and onto his lap, unzipping the top until the fluffy speckled cat was able to stick its head out. The animal purred in happiness when the boy stroked its head. 

Chris walked around to the drivers side, starting up the engine and starting on the way back to the department. Joseph was silent beside him for the first half of the ride, likely still shaken from the prior events so Chris figured small talk might help de-escalate the stress. 

“Cedarbrooke High?” he abruptly asked. Being met only by a confused look, he clarified again. “Do you go to Cedarbrooke High School by chance?” 

Reaching over to Chris’ free hand sitting on the armrest, Jo used his fingers to trace something timidly on his forearm. It took a second for Chris to realize that these were actually words and he scrambled to piece them together. 

Yes sir!

“Just refer to me as Chris, kid. I don’t think sir quite fits me…” 

Sorry…

“No worries. How has your first semester been going?” 

Joseph simply shrugged in reply, a pout making its way onto his face.

Chris couldn’t help but laugh at the intended sarcasm covering his actions. “I can totally relate to that… My time there was a nightmare.” 

Joseph’s face lit up with the similarity in their situations, filled with sudden interest.

“I don’t even know where to start…” Chris snickered, recalling a particular incident. “Well, I guess there was one time I risked ending up in detention.” 

Double checking to see if the boy’s attention was still on him, Chris continued his tale. “My friend, the same one on my team by the way, was pretty soft spoken and got bullied a lot. I was a bit of a jerk back then, so after one of those brutes went a little too far I made up my mind to take it an extra step further. And being me, I decided that the best place to do that would be the men’s bathroom.” 

Joseph grinned from his spot beside Chris, his eyes urging him to continue, clearly immersed in the story. 

“Well I conveniently had a Nutella sandwich on hand and the dude was wearing light colored slacks… I guess you can see where this was going, but anyways, I followed him to the stalls, entered the one beside him and stood up on the toilet with the sandwich in hand and then… I dropped the darn thing on his pants and ran for my life! Unfortunately he found the culprit and I got sent to detention but it was totally worth it seeing him walk around for the rest of the day with a brown stain on his slacks!” 

“Stop laughing! This is a serious matter!” Chris teased the younger, only succeeding in making him chuckle even more. 

Chris heard the scratching of pen on paper beside him. When they eventually came to a stop at a red light, the notepad was offered to him once more.

Thanks for sharing, but I’m afraid my school experience isn’t even half as entertaining as yours… 

“Well, I guess everyone is different, huh?” Chris sighed. “Mine wasn’t always pretty either, but now that I’ve graduated I can recall quite a few stories from my high school days.” 

As the lights changed, the car was plunged into silence once more, as Chris winding his way through the streets, now illuminated by the morning sun’s rays. 

“Don’t mind me asking, but can you speak?” 

Joseph smiled rather solemnly, confirming the question as he etched another sentence onto his notepad. 

I haven’t been able to talk ever since an accident a while ago which is why I use this method. I can also use sign language but I don’t know anyone else who does too.

“Oh!” Chris exclaimed, racking his mind for any hope of an interpreter. “Believe it or not, I think one of my friends may be able to help with that…” 

Joseph’s face lit up in excitement as Chris waited for another red light before pulling up his contacts and dialing a number. 

“Asher Caldwell, wherefore art thou?” 

“Just hanging out in the dorm, why?” Ash’s voice crackled through the phone. 

“No problem, I just have a question,” Chris continued, pulling into the department’s parking lot as he searched for an empty spot,  “I believe you mentioned briefly that you took a sign language course in high school?” 

“Yup, sure did!” 

“Perfect! I think I might have a way for you to put your skills to use if you have time to visit the department?” 

“Of course!” Asher chided, the rustling of a bag through the speakers indicating that he was already on his way over. “I haven’t brushed up on my skills in ages, I might be a little rusty…” 

“Don’t worry about it, I’m sure our new friend will be happy enough knowing someone can speak his own language.” 

Stating his goodbyes, Asher hung up the call. Sure enough, Joseph seemed to relax in the passenger seat, eventually motioning towards the looming building in front of him. 

Shifting the gear into park, Chris responded, “Yeah, let’s head in, shall we?” 

The two exited the vehicle, the older locking it after the door slammed shut. Checking that the latter had all his belongings, Chris led the way towards the entrance, allowing his guest to step inside before showing him down the twisting halls. 

Zelene and Taj were already seated in the department’s one and only interrogation room, which rarely ever got used. The purple haired girl was typing furiously on her keyboard as the other sorted through files scattered all over the single table. 

Finally looking up from her work, Zelene greeted the new arrivals, “Welcome in! You can take a seat with us, we just have to discuss a couple of things before we release you.” 

Joseph cautiously pulled out the chair, glancing at Chris for confirmation. 

“Actually, before you step out, we have Ash on his way right now to be an interpreter. Sign language,” the elder clarified. 

“Oh?” Taj wondered out loud before smiling warmly at the boy across from him. “Now that’s why you weren’t answering on the scene!” 

Joseph nodded back and the room was engulfed in silence once more. 

“I like your pin by the way!” Taj tried to lighten the mood. He pointed at a small black cat surrounded by sky blue colored flowers on the younger boy’s backpack. 

Joseph pulled out his notebook again. “Thanks, a close friend gave it to me!” he wrote, holding the message up for the trio to see. 

Zelene motioned towards the animal hiding in the depths of the boy’s backpack. “Guess you’re a cat person huh?” 

“Yeah,” Joseph jotted down, stroking the fluffy pet’s head, “Her name is Clover. She’s a Tortoiseshell Persian.”  

As the duo of detectives continued to chat, Chris found the sound of their voices receding. Mere echoes were all he could hear as he kept his sight locked on Joseph. The scene of the boy with his beloved cat rekindled memories Chris would rather keep locked away. 

With a small can of tuna in his hands, an ashy silver haired boy presented food to the thin, starving cats just outside the boundaries of the orphanage. Voice calm and steady, he murmured praises to the strays with a smile beaming with joy. 

Then suddenly, his attention was on Chris. 

“Wanna feed them too?” Matthew offered, holding the can towards him. 

A brief pause of hesitation followed, but in fact Chris wanted a moment like this more than anything else in the world. 

“Of course.” 

Accepting the tuna, he held it out to the patiently waiting cats and they graciously complied, their tiny mouths nibbling the food. 

“Chris?” Matthew was saying, his sparkling brown eyes gazing at him. But the voice did not belong to him. 

“Chris!” Taj exclaimed, jerking him out of his reverie. “Ash is here!” 

A loud knock came from the door and Chris moved across the room to open it. 

Asher came bounding in, greeting the trio inside before turning to the unfamiliar face. 

“Hi there! I’m Asher!” he stated, hands moving in motion to spell out the letters of his name. “What’s your name?” 

With rapid and skilled movements, the young boy placed his hand on his chest before crossing his two fingers and tapping them together, finally using one hand to spell out another word. 

“Joseph, nice to meet you!” Asher repeated as Zelene took a few notes on her computer. 

As Joseph continued to talk, Ze and Taj stepped outside, closing the door behind them to leave the three in the room on their own. Chris knew they were going to monitor the interrogation from the cameras, so it was his duty to sift through the questions as quickly and stress-free as possible. He slid a blank sheet of lined paper from the table and flipped the cap off of his pen before rattling off the usual Miranda warning and asking the first inquiry, “So Joseph, would you mind starting by listing your age, place of birth, and any other information that you would deem helpful to us?” 

Asher kept his eyes trained on Joseph’s hands as they signed out a string of words. “My full name is Joseph Warren and I am eighteen years old,” Ash mimicked, “I was born and raised here in Cedarbrooke and go to this town’s only high school. I guess you should probably know that I live on the outskirts of town with my mom. No siblings, no father, just me and her.”

“‘Kay, gotcha,” Chris murmured to himself, jotting down a couple notes. “I guess that leads us to today’s events… Could you tell me everything that you remember from the scene?” 

“So Joseph says that he saw a figure wearing a dark mask, cloak, and gloves enter the donut shop this morning when he was out on a walk,” Asher relayed, focused on the younger boy. “The door had been propped open, so he slipped inside and hid under a table to investigate. By the time he got there the cashier had already been knocked out and her throat slit with a knife. He couldn’t move from fear so stayed put in his hiding spot as the  guy pulled out a brown bag out of his coat and dumped its contents out on the counter. Joseph believes that these were donuts, but he wasn’t one hundred percent certain.”

“He then took out a can of spray paint and wrote a message on the wall, placing it back into his satchel before removing one last item and tossing it into the corner. The man left the store, silently closing the door behind him before adding on a padlock. That was when Joseph began to truly panic. He waited for the Mamba to leave before banging on the glass, trying to find any help. This caught the attention of some passerby but instead of freeing him, they saw the scene behind him and took it the wrong way, keeping him trapped inside. That was when you came along.” 

Chris nodded, taking in the information as he sifted through the various sheets containing the morning’s details. Once again, the Mamba wiped clean all the evidence; no fingerprints, video footage, or witnesses of the murder were found, that is except for Joseph whom the public mistook as the killer himself.

In the last folder sat an array of photographs taken at the scene. Powdered donuts marked down as poison. A dead cashier, dark blood spilling out of a wound on her neck. A message on the wall dripping with red spray paint. 

Ego te provoco.

I challenge you.

“One more question,” Chris queried, “Why were you outside the donut shop at 5AM in the morning when school doesn’t start till 9?” 

Joseph looked stunned by the question, but hurriedly collected himself to sign his answer. “I don’t usually head out that early, but my mom was out of town this week and the coffee machine at home broke, and to be completely honest I was having trouble sleeping so I figured I’d go get some caffeine at the shop before school. I guess that decision almost ended in me becoming a puddle of bloody glory…” 

Chris and Asher both stifled a laugh at the boy’s sense of humor. The elder slipped the sheets back into his folder and slid back his chair. 

“Well, thanks for bearing with me Joseph,” he said with a grin, heading towards the exit. “I’ll just check with my team and make sure everything’s good before we release you.” 

As soon as Chris left the room, Ze pulled him aside with an update. “I checked his records but didn’t find anything out of the ordinary. His dad, however, did work at this station before passing away with a bullet wound and though I doubt it has anything to do with the case it does explain why he is wandering about on his own.” 

“Damn. Law enforcement is one hell of a job… I’m surprised none of us have succumbed to the Mamba yet,” Chris mumbled under his breath. 

“Yet?!” Zelene exclaimed, shock painted on her face. “Let’s hope that it never happens.”

Taj shifted in his chair, sneaking a glance through the glass. “Can he head home then? I mean, his records are clean and the interrogation went fine, right?” 

Sighing, Chris nodded in return. “Yeah, we should probably let him go. Asher needs to head back to his college classes anyways.” 

The door slammed against the wall as Chris threw it open, gaining the attention of the twosome sitting at the lone table. 

“You are free to go, Joseph.” He smiled warmly, pulling a card from his pocket and scribbling a few notes on it before handing it to the boy. “Here’s my number if you ever need to call. Stay safe and stay out of trouble, huh?” 

Jo gladly accepted the card, signing his gratitude to the detective and walking out to the lobby. 

Asher’s gaze followed the boy as he left, remaining fixated in the same direction. 

Chris noticed this act and decided to break the silence. “What’s on your mind, Ash?” 

“Oh… Nothing much, I’m just a bit worried for him, that’s all.” His eyes were downcast, brows furrowed in concern. “He said his mom was out of town this week, right? So he’s all on his own.”

Nodding solemnly, Chris watched as his two partners began motioning to him to join them in the office before replying, “You know what, I need to stay behind to file all this information, but why don’t you chaperone him to school? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind the company… he seems pretty lonely anyways.” 

“Yeah, I’ll do that then!” Asher bounced towards the exit, reenergized with a new found goal as he bid farewell to the task force. 

Chris sighed, rubbing his temple as an oncoming headache was beginning to throb from the stress of the day. He gathered his bag from the floor and trudged down the barren halls towards his office, or should he say his second home… Sometimes it was easy to become jealous of Asher and Neall, who managed to have so much time off even with college courses or long hours at the restaurant. He knew it was wrong but still enjoyed daydreaming of a life without such a commitment to his work that it drained every ounce of energy out of him. Maybe, just maybe one day this nightmare would be over and he could finally feel in control of his life. 

───────  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ♠ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───────

“Joseph, hey! Wait up!” 

Asher probably looked ridiculous to the mass of cops and guests about the department’s waiting room but sometimes you had to ignore your public image and now was one of those times. 

Joseph was far ahead, visibly in a rush to get somewhere. Because it was now 8:52 AM, this somewhere was most likely going to be the Cedarbrooke High School campus. 

Instead of running after the boy, he figured that it would be far more efficient to simply drive there instead. Hopping into his small blue SUV, Asher started the engine, backing out of the parking lot and taking the main road down to the school passing by Joseph on the way. 

Luck was on his side as he found a spot right near the front of the school’s car park. Now all that was left was to sit and wait. 

He switched on the radio, changing channels to find a topic of interest yet a single one seemed to dominate every single station. 

“The Mamba strikes again! The city is left in apprehension after a possible suspect is found on the scene. Law enforcement took him back to the department for questioning according to Chief Andrew Dalton himself. Will this lead to a revelation in the case or will Cedarbrooke remain in fear for another day?” 

Asher solemnly chuckled to himself. Poor Joseph would unfortunately become the talk of the town sooner or later, even if Chris and the team did everything they possibly could to keep his identity hidden. News spreads fast in the small city… Almost too fast for Asher’s liking, but then again he committed his life to being one of the spreaders of such news.

Asher was no stranger to being the center of public attention. Being part of a journalism major group at UCH meant being part of a group of annoyingly nosey people. It didn’t take long for them all to discover his connection with the Mamba taskforce and not long after he was being bombarded by questions, some simply bred by curiosity, others a little too personal for comfort. 

Did he answer any of these inquiries? Nope. It was better to be considered an antisocial outcast than to accidentally spill important confidential information that could endanger his friends own reputations. 

Now did the taskforce know that he sacrificed his whole social life for them? Again, nope. But Neall, however, did. Whether by coincidence or not, the one day he visited the campus Asher was sitting on his own, flipping through his notes at the cafeteria table as the rest of the journalism students chatted and laughed at their own separate one. 

So Neall made the decision to go join his friend and confuse the rest of the class after the boy suddenly spoke for the first time ever. And because of this, Asher was never considered an outcast again, although sometimes slightly ignored, but life was so much better than prior to the revelation. 

That was when he finally made a small group of talented journalist buddies to do his projects with. This friendship blossomed and once he found how trustworthy the lot was, he began to give them the know-abouts surrounding the Mamba and with Asher’s information and their writing skills combined, they became quite the unstoppable group. Asher soon became one of the most promising young journalism majors at UCH, being invited to prestigious events which were both interesting, but also rather exhausting. 

Ash felt like he needed a break from college life at times. If he could meet up with his friends every day he would, even if it meant skipping a class. But of course they were too busy to do such a thing and often a friend group meet up would consist of just Neall and him. Neither of them really minded, knowing how much the detective life entailed but it felt too oddly quiet. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Asher spotted his target jogging around the corner into the parking lot. Throwing open the door, he ran to meet him. 

“Hey, Joseph!” 

Jo scanned his surroundings, eventually finding the source of the call, offering a timid wave in return. 

Asher jogged over to meet him as he pulled out his phone. “Look, I know you’re in a rush, but can we talk for a moment?” Observing the boy nod, he passed his device over. “Could you add your number to my contacts? I just don’t want to lose touch with you after today.”

Albeit hesitant at first, Joseph complied, fingers tapping the keyboard on the screen. 

“Also, if you aren’t too busy this afternoon, would you want to meet up with me for dinner?” Asher added, accepting his phone back. “I know your mom is out of town, so I figured I can treat you to a meal to make things a bit easier.” 

Joseph looked at the older boy with a mix between surprise and excitement before signing back his response. “I would love to. What time?” 

“I finish classes at 5, so how about 6PM at the Spice Garden Eatery up the road?”

“Perfect.” Jo responded, a warm smile spreading across his face. “See you then.” 

Turning on his heel, Jo headed on his way towards the front entrance. Asher in turn, watched until he disappeared into the building before heading back to the car. Starting the engine, his phone lock screen also lit up, illuminated with a picture of the squad, all 6 of them. It felt incomplete ever since Matthew vanished. 

He knew he could be rushing headfirst into the situation. After all, they just met Joseph today and under quite the unfortunate circumstances, but something about the boy reminded him of Matthew.  Deep down, Asher hoped that though Joseph could never replace him, maybe he could fill in the missing piece that had been left behind. 

───────  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ♠ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───────

The Spice Garden Eatery was busier than usual. 

The group's favorite booth had been taken by a family with five kids, so Asher found a spot near the front windows instead. There was no need to look at the menu since he knew it like the back of his hand. Turning his attention to the streets outside, Ash watched the pedestrians pass by without a care in the world. 

Occasionally he wondered why no one bothered to leave the town with the Mamba’s reign of terror looming over it. You never knew who the next victim would be, let alone the whereabouts of the scene. The serial killer’s death count had risen to 34 innocent townsfolk with the addition of the donut shop worker and it was apt to keep growing with the months to come. 

The crime scenes were getting flashier too, the hidden messages becoming clearer and more threatening. As the murders continued, Asher’s anxiety also seemed to rise. A feeling in his gut just told him something was seriously wrong. The last message, I challenge you… it just seemed targeted right at Chris and the taskforce. Again, it was possible that Asher was just being paranoid but it still worried him. 

He watched people keep passing by, finally spotting a familiar face in the crowd. Joseph walked into the restaurant, backpack still on as he scanned the room before locking eyes with Ash. 

“Hi Jo! Glad you could make it!” Asher greeted, offering his guest a chair. 

“Thanks,” Joseph signed in return, “I don’t think I’ve been to a restaurant in years.” 

“Well I’m glad that I get to be the one to introduce you to the world’s best breadsticks then!” Asher exclaimed. 

Sneaking a glance towards the bustling kitchen, Asher spotted Neall, hard at work and covered in tomato sauce as he mixed a boiling pot of spaghetti. 

“Hey Joseph? Did you want to go bother a friend with me?”

A wide smirk spread across the boy’s face as he replied, “Of course! I’m always up for some mischief.” 

With a new partner in crime and a renowned sense of purpose, Asher led Joseph towards the kitchen and leaned against the counter. The staff was used to this behavior and didn’t bat an eye as Ash yelled towards his friend. 

“You! Mr. Sous-chef with the dirty apron!” Neall turned his attention away from draining his pasta, clearly touched by the compliment (in Asher’s opinion). “I have a starving kid here and we need you to bring us breadsticks or else-” 

“You better not be threatening me, Asher Caldwell, I know where you live!” Neall shouted over the snickers of the surrounding chefs. 

“And I wouldn’t mind if you paid me a visit!”

“Leave me in peace and then I may consider your request…” 

“Yessir, but I expect my regular meal as soon as possible.”

Neall spared a glance towards the duo, immediately switching to a more professional approach after spotting Asher's new companion. “And what shall it be for you today? Would you like a menu?” 

Turning towards his interpreter, Joseph signed, “I’ll just have the same as you. I trust your judgement!” 

“We’ll have two of Neall’s signature spaghetti dishes with a side of breadsticks please!” Asher relayed as the young chef nodded in confirmation, playfully shooing the duo away. 

Asher complied, bouncing back to the table with Joseph tagging closely behind. Once they were comfortably settled, he attempted to strike a new conversation. “So… How’s life?”

“Generally fine other than almost getting arrested this morning, I’d say!” Joseph shrugged, hands moving rapidly in motion to sign a new message back. “But in all honesty, it’s been pretty boring. Just going to school, taking exams and heading home to study and to sleep.” 

“OMG same!” Asher sneered sarcastically, mutually understanding the struggle. “The end of semester grind is real, but you have to remember we only have a couple more days till Winter break! I believe in you!”

Scoffing at the moral support from the older boy, Joseph sighed. “Though I would love to say that I can’t wait for the break, I’m not really looking forward to it…” 

“Would you mind if I asked why?”

“Sure… You know how I told you guys that my mom was out of town this week?” Asher hummed in verification of the question and Jo continued, “Well, she’s actually going to be out all month.” 

“What?!” Asher coughed, trying to cover up his shock. “So you're on your own for all of the break? Does that include Christmas??” 

Joseph’s expression was now downcast as he solemnly nodded, confirming his suspicions. 

The two sat in awkward silence as Asher desperately scrambled for a plan. 

“You know what?” he said, pulling out his phone, “You’re joining our friend group no matter whether you like it or not.” 

Joseph looked both shocked and excited at the same time as he waited for the elder to continue. 

“There’s no way we’re going to let you have a lonely Christmas all on your own. That’s ridiculous! Welcome to the Chaos Court.” 

Joseph picked up his phone as it buzzed with a new notification, popping up with unknown numbers from a chat group. “Why are you helping me anyways?”

“I’m convinced you’re a good person.”

“How do you know I’m not some sort of tax evader that has committed 7 different war crimes?” Jo asked without a hint of hesitation. 

“That was awfully specific…” Asher chuckled, “But no, I still believe you’d fit in well with our friend group. We’re all just a bunch of morons who fatedly crossed paths once upon a time.” 

Joseph still seemed to be processing the whole occurrence, left speechless and surprised and Asher simply let him have a moment to himself. Finally, the younger boy woke up from his trance, a grateful smile spreading across his face. 

“Thank you.”

“Of course.” 

Just then, the hinges of the swinging doors to the kitchen squeaked back and forth announcing the arrival of the sous-chef himself.

“Here is your pasta, my good gentlemen,” Neall joked, sliding two dishes of steaming spaghetti and a single plate of breadsticks onto the table between the duo. He then pulled up an extra chair from a nearby table, slipped the apron inside his bag, and turned his attention to the unfamiliar high schooler. “Hi! Not sure if Ash already introduced me or not, but my name is Neall and I’ve been working at this wonderful old restaurant for 3 years now and they still haven’t made me head chef… Enough about me though, what’s your name?” 

Joseph extended his hand in a polite greeting which Neall shook after a moment of hesitation. Asher assumed it was due to the awkward silence so he continued to watch as the hazel eyed boy signed his answer before he worked his translating magic. “This is Joseph and he is mute, hence why I’m working as his current interpreter. He is a senior in high school but got mistakenly caught up in the Mamba’s crime scene this morning and that was how the two of us met!” 

Slightly surprised by the interesting introduction, Neall collected his thoughts before replying. “Nice to meet you, Joseph! It’s rather unfortunate that you had to meet under those circumstances, but I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Yeah, me too,” Ash chimed in much to Joseph’s appreciation. “Well, now that we got that outta the way, why don’t we dig into the food?” 

With an eager nod, Jo signed his gratitude to the chef before swirling the pasta around with his fork and digging in like he hadn’t eaten all day. If Asher had to guess, his assumption was likely correct. It must have been hard to fit cooking into a schedule of studying, school, and trying to balance a completely independent lifestyle on his own. 

Waiting for most of his plate to be empty, Asher finally spoke up. “You probably saw that Jo was added to our group chat, right?”

“So I see you’ve become a newly knighted member of the Chaos Court, huh Joseph?” Neall queried after finishing a breadstick and wiping the garlic butter off of his hands. 

“Yeah, it’s an honor to be part of a friend group,” Joseph grinned, “I’ve never had that experience before, but I’m also a bit worried to be honest… You two are amazing but I feel like I don’t know anyone that well.”

“It’ll come with time!” Asher encouraged, “We’re a pretty easy going bunch and I know you’ll fit right in with the rest of us.” 

Still spotting the slightest trace of worry in the way the younger boy apprehensively smiled, he continued, “So you know me pretty well, there isn’t much else to really say… I guess one interesting fact about me is that I wasn’t actually born in Cedarbrooke.” 

Joseph’s eyes widened in shock and Asher knew the reason. It was quite a rarity to find someone who wasn’t born and raised in the small town. After all, who would want to leave another bustling city to move to such a boring place? 

“I needed some sort of escape I guess…” Ash shrugged. “I wanted a city that I could restart all over in, one that was cut off from the rest of the world and Cedarbrooke Heights was the perfect answer to my pleas. If only I knew that the Mamba would become the talk of the town a couple years after I arrived… But with awesome friends like these guys I would never even consider leaving!” 

“Well if we’re doing fun facts now I guess I could share too,” Neall suggested with a chuckle. “I have lived here my whole life, but I used to live near the disaster zone of Project Atomicix which I like to brag about. After the incident I moved into the city and started my job here at the Spice Garden. I love making pasta like lasagna, spaghetti, and ravioli! I also make these killer garlic parmesan breadsticks and have a knack for cooking up pizzas too. My whole dream is to be the head chef here, but the boss is stubborn, so pray for my promotion.” 

“So now you know Neall and believe it or not the other three you’ve met already at the department,” Asher added, “They are probably going to have their hands full with work tonight so no squad hang out, but with any luck they won’t be so busy tomorrow as long as the Mamba doesn’t choose to pick another victim.” 

“It isn’t really normal for him to be attacking so frequently…” Neall muttered to himself, a look of deep concern painted on his face, “The last couple of days have been back to back murders though. What if he’s planning something big like a grand finale? Or am I just being ridiculous…” 

“No, I agree,” Asher added as Joseph stringed together a sentence in sign language. “Jo thinks it's weird too, especially since the first few of the Mamba crimes were so far apart. They’re definitely getting more spontaneous and flamboyant.” 

“Sorry for bringing that up…” Neall apologized urgently. “I shouldn’t have interrupted our conversation with that, it has just been bothering me for a while now and I felt like I needed to get it off my chest.”

“No worries!” signed Joseph. “I have been very concerned about it too and being caught up in the scene this morning just made my anxiety worse. It’ll be nice to hang out with you all tomorrow, I can’t wait to get to know you better and I think it will also be a nice break from the stress of exam week.”

Asher laughed in total agreement as he began to clean up the mess of spaghetti sauce he made on the table. “Yeah, I definitely need some time off from my studies too! We’d love to have you over and I’ll keep you updated on any plans we make throughout the day.” 

“That would be amazing!”

Neall stood up, chair sliding back behind him as he collected the dirty dishes. “If you boys don’t mind, I should probably get back to work before the dinner rush this evening.” He paused for a second to acknowledge the younger boy who was starting to pack up his bag too. “And it was amazing meeting you, Joseph!” 

“You too!” Jo’s free hand moved to reply. “I should get going too. I didn’t have time to feed Clover her lunch after school!”

“Is Clover a cat?” Neall queried, a quizzical expression on his face.

“Yeah, how did you know?” Asher answered for the younger boy. 

“Well… I guess it was a cat name that Matthew liked…” A wave of sudden nostalgia washed over the chef. “We had a good friend who was absolutely obsessed with cats… He would feed them the strays every day no matter the weather outside and his dream was to save up enough money to get a cat of his own.” 

Noticing the shakiness of Neall’s voice, Joseph hesitantly spoke up. “What happened to him?”

Instead of replying, Neall just smiled, fleeing back into the kitchen as the expectant boy’s eyes followed his departure. 

“The Mamba,” Asher murmured loud enough for Joseph to hear. 

“Is that why you and your friends want to catch him so badly? ” Joseph innocently asked and the other boy nodded in response. “Well I want to help find him too,” he announced much to the elder’s surprise. 

“As much as the squad would love your help, I’m not sure if there’s much we can do…” Asher said disappointedly. “The Mamba is so elusive that the taskforce still has no information that will help them.” 

Joseph stood in silence for a brief moment, something visibly bothering him. Yet he collected himself before replying, “Well, if there’s anything I can do to help, don’t hesitate to let me in on it!” 

“Of course.”

Joseph paused, turning back to the blonde haired boy. He waved goodbye and signed a final thank you before disappearing down the street. 

Deep down Asher knew that they would need a miracle to catch the kidnapper of their old friend but he was willing to keep hoping that it would still happen no matter how many obstacles stood in their way. If he kept believing that today would be the day they strike a goldmine of information then so be it, no matter how many weeks, months, or years it will take. 

They would find the Mamba eventually and with him, they would also finally discover what happened to Matthew.

Chapter Text

Maybe this was all his fault. 

Just a few weeks ago Chris had assumed that the Mamba’s flashier crime scenes were just for attention. So what did he do? He chose to ignore the Mamba, sending in a different group of officers to survey the scenes for them. It was only for a few days though, just long enough to see if it truly were the case or not. 

Well… Ignoring a serial killer took a turn for the worse. He simply became more and more desperate for the glory and recognition and the time between attacks became increasingly closer together until there was approximately one murder every single day. But that was enough for Chris to come up with a conclusion:

All the Black Mamba wanted was attention. Attention from the general public, attention from the families of the victims… But especially attention from the taskforce themselves. 

What started off as a normal morning in his office with Zelene and Taj was bound to get overrun by disaster soon enough. Lounging in the bean bag chairs with a half cold coffee in his hands, Chris had been sifting through several reports on the crime scene that happened yesterday. 

Aside from a threatening message on the walls, nothing seemed out of the ordinary for a Mamba attack. Grunting in frustration, Chris grabbed his computer to do some thinking. Pulling up a new tab with the map of Cedarbrooke, he sat staring at the screen cluelessly. The chief had suggested patrolling around at night in hopes of catching the killer in the act but he didn’t even know where to start.

The suburbs and the city were both so widely spread out that it would be impossible to coincidentally arrive at the exact location and even then you would need an insane amount of luck to do that. Luck was coincidentally something that Chris did not have. 

Utterly defeated, he rubbed his tired eyes, slumping further back into the comfort of the bean bags. 

Then, the computer screen gradually grew brighter. 

Blinking at the blaring white screen, Chris read a single message that spread across the center.

UNKNOWN : Greetings, my detective friends.

The text input cursor blinked, encouraging him to reply but he was completely dumbfounded. Desperately, Chris searched the room, finding his fellow taskforce members working silently in the corner. “Taj! Ze!” Chris hissed at them, gaining their combined attention. “Are your devices all weird too or is that just mine?” 

“What do you mean by weird? My computer is working just fine…” Taj queried curiously, walking over to Chris and leaning over to observe his screen. “Woah.” 

“Okay, now you boys have gotten me interested!” Ze exclaimed, bounding over to join in on the fun. She reached over Chris’ shoulder and began clacking away at the keyboard. “Woah is right. I can’t seem to be able to hack out of this page… Almost like something or someone has overridden the entire system.”

“What should we do?” Taj worried. “If our techie can’t figure it out then you might need to get a new computer…” 

“Let’s answer it,” Chris suddenly declared, ignoring the way his heart was racing, blood pounding in his ears. 

Snatching the device from his hands, Zelene guarded it with caution before scolding his actions, “Are you out of your mind?! What if it’s the Mamba and we’re just playing along with whatever he’s scheming?” 

“But what if we are ignoring our one chance to find out more information on him?” Chris challenged defiantly, taking the computer back from a reluctant Ze. “It’s worth a shot, isn’t it?”

Weighing the pros and cons, Taj finally agreed. “Yeah, this might either be a terrible idea and get us deeper into the hole we’re already trapped in, but if we don’t take a chance we might be stuck in that hole forever.”

Nodding in accord with Zelene, Chris carefully began typing up a message, sending the text off to the mysterious dispatcher:

Chris : What do you want?

The trio waited with baited breath, their eyes glued to the screen as letter by letter, a brand new message appeared.

UNKNOWN : Would you care to play a little game with me?

“A game?!” Zelene gasped in horror. “I told you we’re getting roped into something bad!” 

“But can we not agree that this may be able to give us a big break in our case?” Chris desperately pleaded with the girl.

In an attempt to relieve the tense atmosphere, Taj tried to settle in the middle of both sides. “With how cunning the Mamba is, I have a feeling that he’s just toying with us but I also do believe that we should at least figure out what this so-called ‘game’ is first.”

With an exasperated groan, Zelene joined the two boys on the beanbag chairs, preparing for the long haul as Chris typed in another message. 

Chris : And what would this game entail?

Dread and anticipation weighed the group as a reply was sent in return. 

UNKNOWN : Ah, so you are interested! Here is how the game works…

UNKNOWN : You answer my questions, I give you a reward for your time. It’s as simple as that.

“There’s got to be some sort of catch to this, right?” Taj stressed, adjusting his scarf as he brushed a hand through his messy hair.

Chris began entering another message, computer keys clicking rapidly. “Lemme ask about the reward first before we jump to any conclusions.”

Chris : We need to know what this reward is before we decide whether or not to play. 

UNKNOWN : Oh I can’t tell you that! It will just ruin the fun. :)

“I want to kill him,” Zelene fumed as Taj attempted to calm her down. 

“Ha! Good luck with that…” Chris sarcastically joked back. He felt torn, not knowing what to do next. 

Luckily, Ze already had a plan in mind, snatching the laptop and furiously typing up a query before the boys could stop her. It was answered shortly afterwards. 

Chris : Why are you contacting us? What do you know?

UNKNOWN : How strange, to be asking questions to the one who should be asking you the questions!

Too locked in to converse, the taskforce looked on as the string of words continued on. 

UNKNOWN : I, in fact, know a lot about you three… More than you think I do. 

UNKNOWN : Taj Meyers… A promising young detective who analyzes crime scenes as if he has done it for hundreds of years. Zelene Robertson, a brilliant, technology smart woman with so much potential.

UNKNOWN : And last but certainly not least, poor unfortunate Christopher Gibbs, the high and mighty leader of the squad who lost one of his closest friends. His brother, shall I say? And what a shame that you still don’t know his whereabouts after all this time… 

“Chris,” Taj’s voice wavered as he gripped onto the older detective’s arm, “He’s just trying to get into our heads… Just ignore him.” 

But Taj’s pleas went unheard as Chris grabbed the computer back, hands shaking as he sent a fiery text back at the scheming murderer.

Chris : What the hell did you do with him

UNKNOWN : Wouldn’t you like to know? I thought you wanted a reward?

Chris : Fine. We’ll join your stupid game if you promise to tell us where he is.

UNKNOWN : Oh don’t be like that, Christopher! I only wanted to play with you…

“Chris-” 

“Not now,” the taskforce leader growled, shutting down the duo’s concerns. “I’m finishing this game whether you like it or not. We need to find out where Matthew went.”

“Chris, stop!!” the usually timid Taj raised his voice, demanding his attention. “I need you to put that down and listen. Just for a second!” 

The older boy inhaled deeply in an attempt to calm down, locking eyes with the latter’s defiant glance. 

“Before we continue, he didn’t even confirm if that was the reward you’d get for doing this.” Chris opened his mouth to complain but was shushed by Zelene so that Taj could continue. “So if we really are planning to continue, we’re approaching with a strategy so we can’t  fall right into his trap.” 

“Yessir!” Ze smirked, relieved that someone took control of the out-of-hand situation before asking for the device that Chris reluctantly handed over. “Now let’s see what this murderer’s got in store for us, shall we?”

Chris : Fire away, but I’m expecting the information from you and nothing less.

UNKNOWN : Perfect. Here is my first question for you.

UNKNOWN : Now that I told you all the information about you three, I am curious… What do you know about me?

“That’s an odd question, but not that complicated to answer…” Zelene theorized. “Wears a black outfit with snakeskin, likes to attack during the night, clearly knows a bit too much about us than we would like…” 

“That’s probably okay to tell him anyways.” Chris sighed. “Hardly enough to deduce anything.”

Chris : We know that you strike during the night, you wear a dark outfit and a snake scaled armband and you’re absolutely merciless but that is all we have.

UNKNOWN : Interesting. I have one last question for you then and it’s a fun one! 

Chris : Fine, be fast. We have better things to do than this.

UNKNOWN : Oh I’m sure you do! Like staring cluelessly at your empty papers and worrying about my next attack? 

Chris : Just hurry up already!

UNKNOWN : Okay! Here I go!

Huddled so close together that they could hear each other’s rapid heartbeats, the trio waited in anticipation. 

UNKNOWN : How would you react if I took another person close to you? What about that boy… Asher is it? Or maybe even Neall! That would be exciting!

“What the hell?!” Ze gasped eyes darting between the two horrified boys. 

Chris reached over her shoulder to type back a rapidfire text. 

Chris : Leave them out of this! They haven’t done anything wrong. Don’t even think about it or else.

UNKNOWN : Or else what? You’ll search for their dead bodies for months on end just like you did with Matthew?

UNKNOWN : Don’t get too upset now, I’m just joking of course! What’s the joy in murdering one of them if you’ll take that long to find out anyways, am I right?

Anger washed over Chris and he noticed the way Taj and Ze tensed around him. He felt dizzy and sick but deep down he knew that he had to remain calm if he wanted to find Matthew. He was doing this for him. 

Placing his trembling hands onto the keyboard, he typed up a final message. 

Chris : We played your game. Now give us what we want.

UNKNOWN : I present you with your reward! It was fun playing with you and I hope one day we may meet! :)

The bright, headache inducing white screen faded back to the original map that Chris had initially been observing. The trio, anticipating the clue, continued watching. 

Five seconds passed.

Then thirty. 

And after an entire minute, nothing had happened.

“Did we just do all that for nothing?” Taj whispered their combined fear aloud. 

Shaking her head, Ze refused to accept their fate. “No. We have to keep waiting. It’s not like the Mamba to do something so cruel, right? I mean, he murders people every day but still, he’s no cheater.”

Slumping in defeat back into the comfort of the beanbags, Chris stared at the ceiling, the bright lights burning his eyes. It didn’t matter to him though. He felt nothing. The anger and disappointment had faded until he was  consumed only by a dull numbness. 

Then the lights flickered into darkness and his eyes stopped aching. 

“Uh… Did anyone turn off the lights?” Taj questioned. 

“Nope,” Ze answered, a hint of fear in her voice. 

“In that case, we might have a problem,” the latter panicked, a rustle indicating that he had stood up from his beanbag. 

After colliding with the table and chairs a couple of times, Taj finally reached the wall, sliding his hand along the surface as he groped for the switch. Eventually finding it, he flicked it up and down to no avail. He turned back to the others still across the room as Zelene shook her head, her face lit up by the computer screen. “No internet either… the whole station has lost power.”

“Officer Gibbs!” a loud voice boomed from the adjacent office. “Can you take a look at this?” 

The team sprinted down the hall, skidding into Chief Dalton’s room. He had clearly been in the middle of a meeting as roughly 12 other cops stared at the newly arrived trio. A single TV screen was lit up in the middle of the dark room. 

"I guard the dead but I am not alive.

Names and dates are etched on my side.

Walk among me, but tread with care,

For many souls find their rest there."

“A cemetery…” Taj murmured breathlessly, solving the riddle within seconds of reading it. 

“Do you know the meaning of this??” Dalton fired a question at them, visibly stressed. 

“Uh… Yes sir, we do.” Chris took control, stepping forward from his team. “The Mamba attempted to contact us and we may have been able to ask him for a clue-”

“You what?!” Dalton roared as the taskforce braced for the lecture. “Do you realize how easily he could take advantage of you?” 

“Yes sir, we were careful not to spill any critical information. We are sorry and we know we should have consulted you before being reckless,” Zelene profusely apologized with a respectful bow. 

Sighing, Dalton continued, “No, I’m sorry. There was no need to yell, I just worry about you three. I understand that we are all desperate to collect any hints that we can about the Mamba, but you have to remember that he is dangerous. I can’t lose you.” 

“We understand sir,” Chris agreed. 

“Okay.” Dalton nodded and silence consumed the office once more. “Now, has anyone solved this riddle yet?”

“A cemetery.” 

All eyes turned to the younger boy whose gaze was still locked on the TV and he repeated himself once more. “The next murder will be in a graveyard.” Taj paused, looking for the chief’s approval before continuing his ramble, “For such a small city, Cedarbrooke Heights has quite a number of cemeteries… three to be exact. We could split up, each head to one, and wait it out tonight in hopes of catching the Mamba in the act.”

“No,” Dalton argued back, “It’s too risky alone. If he is giving you this hint, he will also likely be prepared to be found. I’ll send some officers with you to the site, but just enough to fit in the cars as we don’t want a crowd to be awaiting his arrival.” 

Addressing the people surrounding him, Dalton began calling out cops and assigning them a taskforce member. “Wolfe, Kim, head with Gibbs. Abbott and Wagner with Meyers. Juarez and Bowman head out with Robertson. I will remain at the department tonight with the rest of you ready to be deployed to a site as soon as we hear back.”

A chorus of  ‘Yes sir’s’ floated around the room as the group awaited their dismissal. 

“We meet at 6:30 sharp tonight. Until then, take your time off. You are free to leave.” 

Chair legs screeched along the floor as everyone flooded out of the doorway leaving the trio and the chief all on their own. 

“I want you three to promise me one thing.” 

“Sir?”

“If at any point your judgement says that it is too dangerous, call it off.”

Returning a sharp nod back to Dalton, Chris answered, “Understood.” 

With that, the taskforce team bade their farewells and exited the office. The halls outside were still dark, the power not fully back yet. An electrical technician was hard at work in the empty lobby, sifting through the frayed wires of the breaker box, probably perplexed as to how they became that way in the first place. 

The threesome picked up emergency flashlights, collected their belongings from the windowless office, and headed outside. A gust of unforgiving wind hit their faces and Chris clutched tightly onto his coat as they raced towards the car, slamming the doors shut behind them. 

“You’d think the weather was cold enough today to snow…” Taj gasped, his warm breath condensing into a cloud in the wintry air. 

Chris hummed in agreement as he started the engine, cranking up the heaters as high as they could go. He rolled up his sleeves and checked his watch.

3:05 PM. 

Approximately 3 hours until their plan is put into action. It wasn’t long but it was just enough time for the anxiety to eat him alive. He desperately needed a break in hopes of taking his mind off of the situation. 

As if she could read his thoughts, Zelene brought up the question of the hour. “So now what? Should we bother Asher and Neall today or just head out on our own? I know Ash is busy with exams this week so maybe not…” 

“No, I know for a fact that he wants to hang out today,” Taj interjected, his face sinking into the coziness of his tattered scarf. “I talked to him on the phone last night to ask about adding Joseph to our group chat and he planned to meet up tonight which I guess isn’t gonna happen now that we have other obligations.” 

“So why exactly did he just randomly adopt a kid that we picked up at a crime scene anyways?” Ze questioned from where she was lounging in the back seat.

“Well, he didn’t exactly provide a specific reason.” Taj shrugged, sneaking a glance at the rearview mirror. “He just said that Joseph needed someone to hang out with and Ash believed that he would fit in with the group quite well. And apparently Neall also knows about him and agrees too.”

“Well, I trust Ash’s intuition.” Chris smiled to himself. “He has a knack for barging into people’s lives and never leaving them alone again… We should let him know about our plans though.”

“Already did!” Zelene exclaimed. She reached over to wave her phone in front of the boys’ faces. “I privately messaged him though so we didn’t have to bother poor Joseph with hundreds of notifications in the middle of class. Mind you, he’s done in about 15 minutes regardless.”

Taj fiddled with a stray strand of hair. “Any reply yet?”

“Nope, but he usually responds pretty fast.”

“We can head over to my apartment while we wait and just meet there,” Taj volunteered. “I have two tubs of ice cream in my freezer and some of those rainbow sprinkles that Asher loves!”

“Why do you have so many tubs of ice cream?? Is it for stress eating?” Chris sneered, watching Taj’s ears turn bright red from embarrassment. 

“Oh stop teasing him, Chris!” Ze playfully punched the older boy’s arm. “Like you can say anything yourself ‘Mister I need to eat Neall’s breadsticks every day of my life and take the leftovers to store in my fridge!’” 

Laughing in response, Chris shot back a retort as he drove out of the parking lot. “We should probably shut up or Taj here will kick us out of his apartment with no sweet treat or socialization.” 

“You bet I will!” the boy grinned. 

The female officer went silent for a moment in the backseat and not long afterwards a message pinged on Chris’ phone. 

“Hey! Just letting everyone know that we have a break in work until 6:30 so we’re meeting up at Taj’s apartment (119 Somerset St.) for some ice cream if you want to come over. Joseph, you are 1000% invited too!” Ze read out loud. 

“Sounds perfect to me!” Chris answered as he set out on the eight minute drive to their destination. 

The trip was rather silent as Zelene was resting in the back, sweater over her face as she attempted to get a few fleeting minutes to sleep. Taj turned off the radio in respect of their exhausted passenger and rested his arm on the car door as he looked out the window. This left Chris alone to his thoughts. 

There was a fear lingering in the back of his mind… the Mamba had known about Neall and Asher. But how were the two supposed to know they might eventually become one of his next targets and that there would be nothing Chris could do to prevent it. He could warn them now, but he couldn’t bear having them live every day of their lives in fear. He could try to protect them, but he knew full well they would refuse. All Chris could really do was to hope and pray that they would never become just another dead body that he finds on scene. 

Pulling into an empty spot in front of the apartment complex, Chris parked the car and turned off the engine, watching as Taj gently called Zelene’s name to wake her from her slumbers. The trio trampled inside, hanging their coats near the door before settling onto the couch. 

“Looks like Neall had a short shift today and is already driving over. Ash will pick up Joseph on his way here,” Ze explained, scrolling on her phone screen. 

“Perfect!” Taj stood up once again, hurriedly making himself busy in the kitchen. “I’ll get set up then!”

“Do you need any help?” Chris asked, attempting to find something to occupy himself.

“No, but thank you though!”

With a sigh, Chris picked up the remote to the TV and flipped from channel to channel. 

“No further information found on the Mamba attack - The scene was another masterpiece with a Latin phrase written across the walls - Cedarbrooke law enforcement claims no progress has been made on the case… Should we protest for a new taskforce?” 

Groaning in exasperation beside him, Zelene stole the remote from Chris’ hands and switched to Netflix instead. “We don’t need to hear all the slander! They don’t know how hard we’re working, I mean it’s not like we’ve just given up?! Anyways… Shall it be a horror movie? Thriller? Maybe romance?”

“Our life is a thriller-horror movie as it is, so why not watch romance?” Taj called over the clinking of bowls in the kitchen. 

“I don’t see why not?” Chris confirmed. 

Pressing play on the classic Titanic movie, Zelene became immersed in the drama. A knock sounded from the front door and Chris got up to get it, dismissing the busy boy in the kitchen. He was met with Asher, Neall, and Joseph, who was hiding slightly behind the others.

“Heya, Chris!” Asher greeted, embracing his friend. “I’m happy we could meet up today!” 

“Me too, Ash,” Chris smiled, already feeling better than he did before their arrival. 

Neall patted the latter on the back as he entered, leaving the youngest boy behind who stood awkwardly on the front porch. 

“Get in here Jo! You’re gonna freeze your butt off out there!” Chris joked, ushering the kid inside and shutting the door behind them. “Make yourself at home. You’re part of the group now.” 

Joseph nodded in appreciation before scanning the room and the faces in it. 

“Hi Jo! I’m Taj, if you remember me from yesterday!”

“I’m Zelene but you can just call me Ze. Nice to meet ya properly!” 

“And my name is-”

“Chris.” Joseph signed to finish the sentence before the task force leader could, leaving the elder rather surprised. Now, though Chris was no expert, he did in fact remember learning the sign language alphabet back in elementary school. And if there was one thing he was confident in, it would be spelling out his own name. 

“Joseph says that he’s happy to be here and he is very excited to meet you all!” Asher called from where he was perched on the barstools in the kitchen, scooping up a handful of sprinkles as he got scolded by Taj. 

“We’re glad you’re here too!” Chris returned, scruffing up the boy’s curly dark hair. “Zelene is watching Titanic over there which I frankly think is overrated and Taj is setting up an ice cream bar in the kitchen if you want to get some.” 

Chris wandered over to the kitchen with Joseph trailing behind him. The two observed the flavors of ice cream that were placed neatly on the counter. In the background the other duo of newcomers were busy bickering in the living room.

“Come hither, fool!”

“Asher, would you so kindly stop with the Shakespeare.” 

“Ah, you are a saucy boy!”

“Asher!! I’m serious! I will not hesitate to saute you,” Neall threatened.

Chris ignored the regular chaos and screaming as he scooped out some mint chocolate ice cream into a bowl, opting for the chocolate sprinkles rather than the rainbow ones, truly dark like his soul, before joining Taj to devour their sweet treat. 

In the meantime, Joseph watched the merry scene, still trying to decide what to do. He eventually opted to eat a small bowl of creamy vanilla ice cream. 

The first bite of the cold dessert was like heaven. It had been a while since he last had ice cream as he had been surviving on a budget for the past couple of months as his mom was in and out of Cedarbrooke. It seemed as if turkey sandwiches, ramen, carrots, and saltine crackers were the only things he ever ate, so he planned to savor every bite. 

“What are you doing all alone in the kitchen?” 

Accidentally jumping from the surprise, Joseph turned to come face to face with Neall who was leaning on the kitchen counter, eyes intently watching the younger boy. All he could do was blink, dumbfounded by the shock of the stealthy man. 

“I know they look like complete morons over there, but we’d love it if you would join us,” Neall explained, smirking as a TV controller flew across the room and the new owner turned off the Titanic, causing another uproar. 

Seeing that Asher was far too busy to act as his personal interpreter, Jo quickly placed the bowl onto the table and pulled out his notebook. He opened a blank page and scribbled a sentence. “I’ve never really been that good at socializing…”

Laughing at the message, Neall pulled out the barstool beside the boy and took a seat. “I was never the best at that either.. As an introvert I never really had any friends until I met these guys.”

Joseph watched Neall as his gaze drifted towards the group as he smiled fondly at the sight.

“I'm not sure if Chris would want me to share this, but I'm going to tell you regardless,” Neall pondered aloud. “Out of everyone here I've known Chris for the longest. He grew up in the orphanage and doesn't have any memory of his parents at all. Instead, he had Matthew. The two were like brothers and the older they got, the closer they became. They were inseparable.” 

“And that was when I came in,” Neall continued, watching as Chris playfully shoved Taj closer towards Zelene. “I met Matthew one breezy autumn day as he explored beyond the boundaries of the orphanage life. I also lost my parents in an accident and I've been living with my uncle ever since. He gives me plenty of freedom so I used to enjoy traversing the outskirts of the city, especially the old science center ruins.”

Neall chuckled at the shocked expression on Joseph's face. “You should go sometime! It's pretty neat and some of the rooms are still intact! But enough of that, the science center was where I met Matt. It was only a fifteen minute walk away from the orphanage. He had gone on an adventure that day to check it out and he fatefully met me. We became pretty close as he continued to see me there every couple of days just to hang out. He was one of the kindest people I've ever met.”

“Of course since I knew one brother, I had to eventually meet the other and let's just say it didn't go as well as we had hoped. Now Chris has a big heart and he is fiercely loyal, but with everything he had experienced he was scared. I think he just didn't want to lose Matthew the way he lost everything else in his life. And he hated me for it. With some convincing from Matthew though, he came out of his shell.”

“I briefly heard about Matthew but I don't know what the Mamba has to do with him…” Joseph wrote, handing over the notebook so the older boy could read it. 

“Yeah,” Neall’s voice lowered as if he were worried about anyone overhearing their conversation, “A few months ago Matthew disappeared. We traced the kidnapping to the Mamba but haven't found anything else out. Heck, we don't even know if he's still alive or not… Chris was heartbroken. He hasn't quite been the same since. He still acts as cheerful as he can, but deep down he's still the scared kid I met years ago. He's determined though, and I am confident that one day we will find and bring back Matthew. Basically what I am saying is don’t let his hard exterior fool you… he has a kind heart tucked away underneath all those burdens and stress.”

Joseph nodded, acknowledging the end of Neall’s rambles before scribbling up another statement. “So have they made much progress on the case?”

“Well… Not exactly,” Neall responded remorsefully. “The Mamba’s too skilled at hiding his tracks so we’d need both magic and insane luck to arrive at the scene before the killer can make his move.”

Jo hummed in understanding. He went back to observing the three young adults on the couch, arguing over what movie to watch. 

“Still too scared to go over there?” 

Jo nodded solemnly. It wasn’t that he was scared of them… A miniscule part of him was worried about being judged and rejected by the only people who had accepted him for who he was. 

Neall reached over and grabbed the younger boy’s hand, offering a reassuring squeeze. “Joseph. I know that we are older and probably the most childish group of adults you will ever meet, but one thing I know for sure. You can always rely on us no matter what. Whether you need to talk about your worries or you just need some friends to relax with… You are stuck with us now and you’ll never escape! And I don’t mean that in a threatening way, but now that you’ve become one of us, you might as well get used to it now rather than never.”

The two exchanged smiles for a fleeting moment before the chaos finally erupted. 

“Help!! She’s gonna kill me!” 

Asher bounded behind the taller boy, grabbing him by the shoulders as if he were a shield of sorts… A shield protecting him from an irritated purple haired girl.

“Asher Caldwell!” Ze roared, pillow in hand and ready to be thrown at any second. “There is nothing that can possibly protect you now! What were you thinking?! Eating my last spoonful of ice cream without my permission? You should have known there would be consequences for your actions!”

Neall and Asher acted as if they were a single person, scuttling back to the wall, arms stretched in a submissive pose. 

“Woah! Can we reconsider for a moment before the duel?” Asher asked, trying to hide his beaming grin as he peeked around the side of the older boy’s head. 

“Black Mamba taskforce, assemble!!”

Chris and Taj leaped into action, grabbing up the remaining pillows from the couch and running over to their apparent leader. 

“Now Joseph, we give you the choice to join a side or to continue watching. It’s totally up to you though!” Zelene addressed the onlooker on the sidelines. 

Gazing from one team to the other it was apparent that one was in fact a little low in numbers. Maybe that was what prompted his decision… Or maybe it was the way Asher pleaded for him to join them with the most innocent looking eyes. Regardless, Jo made his way across the room, bracing for the attack as Neall shoved the smaller boy behind him. 

“One moment before commencement…” Chris called, approaching the newcomer with an offering of a new weapon. “A pillow. For defense.” 

“Thanks!” Joseph signed as the countdown began. 

“3… 2… 1… ATTACK!!” 

Most of the attention was directed towards Ash and Neall as pillows flew through the air, smacking opponents in the face or even knocking ice cream dishes to the floor. Jo dodged an attempted hit from Taj but noticed the boy was going a bit too easy on him. Now was the chance for a comeback…

Swinging the cushion full force at his attacker’s weapon, Joseph sent Taj’s pillow flying through the air. It landed conveniently right on the side of Chris’ face as the bewildered boy was taken out by a rather violent hit from Neall. Taj fell to his knees, accepting his fate with a giant grin on his face. But Joseph’s attention was elsewhere. 

One victim remaining for his next ambush… Zelene and Asher were having their own little battle royale on the couch, pillows swinging wildly as they attempted not to lose their balance. Taking aim once more, the couple of weeks of baseball training he had kicked in as Joseph chucked his pillow across the room landing a fatal hit. 

Zelene lost her footing and tripped back onto the cushions while Asher took his chance to pounce on top of his enemy, trapping her. Everyone held their breath as Ze’s free hand raised into the air, waving frantically to signal her defeat. 

Both cheers and shouts of disappointment exploded from the eyewitnesses.

“We’ll get you next time!” Ze attempted to mimic a villainous tone as she leapt back up to her feet, tossing her weapon onto the couch. 

It took a few minutes for the excitement to die down as everyone scattered to clean up the mess and Joseph opted for helping Taj wipe up the spilled ice cream mess on the ground. Once it was all mostly back to normal (aside from a broken dish which Taj advised them not to worry about), they gathered in the kitchen once more to formulate a plan. 

“Whaddaya say?” Asher motioned towards the now vacant living room, still breathing heavily from the excitement of the fight. “Should we settle in for a movie? There’s still an hour till 6, so plenty of time to start!” 

“That sounds good to me!” Zelene giggled, bouncing over to claim the TV remote. “But I’m putting on the Titanic again so we can finish before we leave!”

In unanimous agreement for the first time of the evening, the group flocked over to the couch, making themselves comfortable as Jo trailed behind them. He paused in hesitation once more, but it was easily picked up on by the one boy that he had spent the majority of his time in the apartment bonding with.  

“Come on, Joseph! This couch is big enough for the six of us!” Neall shoved Chris into the corner of the sofa, patting the empty space between them. 

And instead of worrying about the judgement or rejection, Joseph joined in and it felt just right… Almost as if he was meant to be with them all along. 

───────  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ♠ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───────

Asher couldn’t fall asleep. 

Earlier, Chris and the team had told him about their risky plan and the first thing that crossed his mind was to scold them. He knew they were just doing their job, but facing the Mamba directly was way too dangerous. 

Of course there was nothing much he could do to stop them… Asher made the trio promise to call him the moment they finished the job. Instead of feeling relieved however, here he lay at 11 PM with his phone laying atop his racing heart. 

He could not imagine life without them. He remembered a time when they were just total strangers that crossed paths and just like that, his broken life was suddenly fixed. And although it had only been a couple years, it felt like he had loved them for a lifetime. If the Mamba took another one of them away, if they disappeared from his life just like Matthew had... 

The ringtone nearly gave Asher a heart attack. 

Fumbling with the device, he rolled off the side of the bed, landing in a heap on the cold floorboards. Groaning, he clumsily slid the call icon and held the phone to his ear, not willing to bother to stand back up again. 

“Hullo?” 

Shaky breathing was the only sound emitted from the speakers. Asher was confused, finally deciding to look at the screen to find Joseph who had apparently video called as his trembling hands rapidly signed a half-formed sentence. Asher’s heart skipped a beat as he realized how distraught the boy looked, wide eyed and panicked. 

“Woah, hold on Jo!” Asher exclaimed, jolting upright. “Can you start from the beginning?”

“Asher, please I need your help. I’m afraid that the Mamba is going to attack again and Chris is in trouble!” the boy desperately communicated. 

“Chris is in danger?!” Ash yelped. “Wait, how do you know that?”

“It’s hard to explain… All I know is that we need to get to the Eastside Cemetery as fast as we can.” 

“I am so confused right now, but I’m going to call Neall to help and we’re going to get over there ASAP.” 

“Can I come too?” 

“If Chris is at risk of being attacked by the Mamba, we can’t endanger you too,” Asher attempted to talk Joseph out of it, but his defiance remained unshaken. 

“No, you need me to tell you all the details. I know the when, where, and how's about this.” 

“Fine,” Ash reluctantly agreed, scooping up a coat from his bedpost and rushing out the door. “You owe me a talk after this!”

“Okay! I’ll start walking in the direction of the cemetery then! ” the boy signed his gratitude.

“Meet you there, Joseph.” 

Teeth chattering from the freezing chill of the night air, Asher dashed to the car, starting up the engine and heaters and accelerating down the street towards Neall’s apartment. With his free hand he typed in the older boy’s number and called it. 

“Mhm?” a groggy voice answered. 

“Neall. There’s no time to explain but I need you outside in 3 minutes.”

“What the hell Ash?! Are you serious right now??”

“Dead serious.”

“M’kay then…” 

Sure enough, Asher rounded the last corner to find Neall, still in his pajama pants, but bundled up in 3 layers of coats standing on the side of the street. He spotted the incoming vehicle and jumped in, still having some sanity to buckle his seatbelt as they continued to fly down the roads. 

“Okay…” Asher began, spotting the half-asleep yet quizzical look on the latter’s face, “This sounds absolutely crazy.”

“I like crazy.”

“I know, but that’s not the point so stop interrupting,” Asher joked, receiving a nod in return. “So Joseph somehow or other predicted that Chris is in danger and the Mamba is going to attack him and his team tonight.” 

“Wait, how-”

“Neall!!” 

“Fine, fine… continue!” 

“So Joseph just told me that he knows it’s gonna happen at the Eastside Cemetery which is the exact place that Chris is waiting at right at this moment, so we need to pick Jo up on the way over there and warn him.” 

“Got it. We stop Chris’s impending doom then we figure out how on earth he is able to predict the future?”

“That’s the plan.”

Finding the future teller waving them down from the side of the street, Asher pulled over and greeted the boy with a witty joke. “Get in! We’re kidnapping you!”

“It isn’t kidnapping… Just borrowing. You plan to return me, don’t you?” Joseph asked, lips pursed in a small smile. 

“Oh we haven’t decided yet…” Ash laughed as he sped down the road. “We’ll arrive in 3 minutes at this pace. So we just have to get Chris the heck outta there?” 

He watched through the rear view mirror as the boy signed back. “I think so… I’m not all too sure how easy it’s going to be to find him though.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Neall attempted to encourage the group. “I personally don’t think it will be that hard… How long do we have?”

Joseph hesitated for a second before responding with a frown. “I’m not sure.” 

“Again, no worries!” chided Asher. He turned on the windshield wipers to brush away the condensation from the foggy night air. “We simply have to reach Chris before the Mamba does.” 

The dreary winter weather matched the mood as the car rolled onward down the hills. Suffocating anticipation loomed in the car as silence consumed the vehicle once again. The next 5 minutes went by in a flash as the trio reached their destination, hopefully not their final one… 

Asher spotted the empty cop car and parked his own right behind it, turning off the engine as he snuck a glance into the neverending cemetery in the gloomy looking forest beyond them. 

“Hey Asher?” Neall muttered under his breath.

“Hm?”

“Remember how Chris scolded us when we checked out that house the other day?”

“Yeah.” Asher paused for a brief moment, inspecting the nearly healed cut on the older boy’s face. “What about it?”

“Well do you really think he would approve of us heading recklessly into a future Mamba crime scene?”

“No… he certainly wouldn’t…” Asher’s eyes were downcast as he continued, “But I believe that this is still the right thing to do. We can’t risk losing another friend.”

“And I totally agree.” Turning towards the backseat, Neall smiled at the younger boy who looked rather eager to head out. “Ready to go?”

Joseph nodded in confirmation and Neall opened the vehicle door, trekking out towards the small picket fence surrounding the area. The other two tagged along until he leapt over the obstruction, landing with a crunch on the dead grass on the other side. 

Asher and Joseph remained frozen in place, the uncertainty finally sinking in as they watched the older boy with doubt. Neall offered his mittened hand towards Joseph in invitation. Looking more assured, the latter accepted and jumped into the cemetery boundaries. 

Still, Asher refused to follow.

“Ash…” Neall encouraged his friend. Both locked eyes, one pair filled with fear, the other with purpose. “You can do this.” 

The single phrase of inspiration was just enough for Asher to gain a newfound sense of determination as he followed the lead of the boys before him. Landing rather gracefully on the other side of the fence, he beamed at his comrades. “Well… What are we waiting for?”

Returning the grin, Neall finally led the way into the depths of the foggy graveyard. 

“Let’s stop the Mamba and save Chris’ butt!” 

───────  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ♠ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───────

For a scene that could go terribly wrong in an instant, it all felt rather serene.  

The whistling of the wind through the trees of the forest combined with the moonbeams trickling through the branched canopy above felt so oddly calming to Chris. If it wasn’t for the piercing cold weather it would be absolutely perfect. 

Chris, along with his two junior officers had situated themselves behind a bush in the middle of the graveyard, the sea of tombstones stretching into the distance. The two hours that they had been sitting there was filled with enough shivering for the whole entirety of the winter season. 

Chris simply lay there, burrowed into the depths of his own jacket, laying against the trunk of a tree, blinking away the exhaustion that threatened to consume him. He could barely see through the foggy darkness, the refraction of the moon on the dewdrops in the air being his only source of light. Considering the fact that it was cloudy, they were lucky to be blessed with what little illumination the forest possessed. 

It was rather quiet too. Technically, this was a good thing since it meant that the Mamba still hadn’t arrived. Yet still, Chris worried that the murderer would instead show up to Taj or Zelene’s sites instead. 

His radio was at the ready in case an SOS came through from the other two teams but their corresponding stations were at least a 15 minute drive away from his location. Therefore he might reach them too late. 

Officer Wolfe shifted from where he sat, the dead leaves rustling beneath him. Jaewon Kim, the accompanying officer, startled simultaneously with Chris as the two prepared for an ambush. 

“Sorry!” he whispered, bowing respectfully. 

Chris returned a nod of acceptance before gazing out into the distance with a sigh, attempting to relax himself yet another faraway sound caught his attention. 

Footsteps. 

Sensing the boys tense beside him, Chris brought his finger to his lips in a shushing motion as he scanned their surroundings. It was too dark to see anything in the distance and the forest seemed to have an echo as the sound of each step resounded around the trio. 

Chris held his breath, squinting as he pinpointed the general direction of the approacher. He detached his gun from his belt and his two partners followed suit. 

One set of footsteps became two and two turned into three. The looming shadows approached as Chris leapt from his hiding spot and pointed his weapon straight at the tallest offender's head. 

“Freeze where you are!” he shouted, voice booming around the forest. “Hands above your heads!”

“Woah, Chris! Hold your fire!” a familiar voice exclaimed in horror. Officer Kim’s flashlight shone right into the squinting eyes of Neall, Asher, and Joseph cowering behind him. 

Immediately dropping his weapon, the head officer ordered the juniors to copy as he ran over to his friends. “What were you guys thinking coming out here? It’s too dangerous!”

Asher elbowed Neall, raising his eyebrows as if to say ‘I told you so’  before replying, “Chris, you’ve gotta listen to us. The Mamba is heading this way and your team is in danger!”

“What the-”

“Chris! Not now! We need to get out of here!” 

Shaking his head, Chris took a step backwards in disbelief. “If he’s really coming then we need to be prepared! This may be our only chance to catch him!” 

“How do you know this information? Are you affiliated with the Mamba?” Officer Wolfe accused, hand trained on his firearm. 

“No! Of course not!” Neall deflected, reaching forward and grabbing Chris’ wrist, holding onto him tightly. 

The younger, however, refused to comply. “If you won’t leave now… I’ll have to force you to.”

“Chris… What?” 

“Don’t make me repeat myself!” The taskforce leader yanked his hand away, breathing heavily, his expression full of fear. “I can’t risk losing you all. Go. Now.” 

Asher scanned the faces of his two companions, finding Neall’s brows furrowed in a mix of disappointment and worry. Joseph was clutching onto his jacket, knuckles white from how tightly his hands were clenched as his expression was somewhat far away, eyes trained on the darkness behind the cops. 

Turning on his heel, Neall finally trudged back to the car. Asher reluctantly tagged along, kicking up the dirt. They traveled all the way there to give him a warning… One that he didn’t listen to… And that meant that-

Rapid footsteps crunching on the leaf covered grass behind the boys followed by a shout of surprise. 

The crack of a shot being fired resounded across the graveyard. 

Whipping around, Asher saw Joseph tackling Chris as the two sprawled onto the forest ground. The junior cops were visibly shaken, guns at ready as they swung around aiming at something seemingly invisible. 

“Chris! Jo!” Asher sprinted towards the collapsed figures. He gripped onto the younger boy’s shoulder and Joseph’s tear filled eyes met his own before he glanced back at the main officer. 

Chris was clutching his head after the hard tumble as he dragged himself to his feet much to Asher’s protests. Another round of bullets streaked through the trees, missing the young man by inches as he dove to the ground once more. 

“Wolfe! Kim!” Chris yelled over the noise, addressing the juniors. “Any visual?”

“No sir! We can’t find the shooter!” 

Chris’ hand patted his belt, clearly searching for an object that wasn’t there as the panic finally set in. “Where’s my gun?”

The crack of the very weapon that the taskforce member had been desperately trying to find was fired from the behind. 

Neall, gun in hand, was focused on a rapidly fleeing shadow as he reloaded and pulled the trigger once again. 

The opposing fire ceased and a high pitched hiss replaced the sound. From Asher’s viewpoint the already gloomy atmosphere suddenly became foggier. 

“A smoke bomb…” Chris gasped, scrambling up to his feet as he charged after the culprit with the rest of the team accompanied him. They disappeared into the haze but returned shortly after, coughing loudly. 

Neall had joined Asher and Joseph, kneeling over them protectively. “Anything?”

“No, he got away,” Chris sighed in regret, but his solemn expression was followed by a warm smile. “I’m just glad you are all okay.”

“No, we’re glad you are okay.” Asher cheered from where he was lying next to Joseph, “And also, you’re a natural, Neall!”

The eldest boy attempted to show off, flipping the handgun but ultimately ended up fumbling with it and dropping the weapon on the floor before sheepishly giving it back to its rightful owner.

Asher then turned his attention to the kid huddled in his arms who looked very shaken from the previous events. It took a moment for him to realize that his own hands were covered in a warm metallic smelling liquid. 

“Joseph?!” Ash panicked, spotting the gash on the latter’s arm. 

Using his other hand, the boy signed back a quick response, “I’m fine, I just got grazed by the bullet! It isn’t that bad!” 

The blood streaking down from the cut said otherwise. 

“Taj once told me that he took a first aid course before he was appointed to the taskforce position, so he should know what to do,” Chris attempted to calm Asher down. “Jaewon already sent the SOS so they should be here any moment now.”

Crouching down beside the injured boy, Chris tenderly inspected his wound. “You’re right Jo. It just looks like a nasty graze but nothing that will need stitches.”

Joseph nodded back, feeling slightly more relieved as the elder looked directly into his eyes.

“Jo. Thank you for protecting me back there. I would’ve had that bullet straight through my brain if it wasn’t for you.” 

The younger boy appreciated the sentiment with a smile, but the young man sitting beside him did not. 

“Ew, what the hell Chris??” Asher gagged. “Why did you have to put it that way?” 

“I’m thinking realistically.” 

Suddenly Zelene’s voice bellowed in the distance, “Chris?? Where are you at?!”

“Over here!” Neall called back, watching as Ze and Taj, along with four new officers arrived on the scene. “Taj, could you take a look at Joseph?” 

“Yeah, of course!” The boy bounded over towards the small figure on the cold ground, concern written all over his face. “Are you okay, Jo??” 

The younger nodded in reply, motioning to his blood covered arm. The bullet had ripped away most of his jacket and had taken some of his skin with it. The sight made Asher nauseous but Taj, like the professional he was, took control of the situation, unclipping a small medical pouch from his belt and pulling out gauze and a bandage wrap, heading straight to work. 

In the meantime, Chris sent the newly arrived forensics team to work as he dismissed the juniors. Then he joined his friends in their huddle around the injured boy and his medic. 

“So would any of you like to explain how you knew the Mamba would attack this location at this exact time?” Chris questioned with great interest, settling down on the grass. 

Joseph and Asher exchanged a knowing look before the younger began explaining with the aid of his translator. “I’ve never told anyone this before, but I think you should all know that I have weird dreams every night before the Mamba attacks.”

“So your dreams just show you what’s going to happen in the future? Like predictions?” Taj queried, brimming with curiosity. 

“It’s more like hints…” 

“What do you mean by that?” Chris wondered. 

“Well… I heard screaming and the metallic smell of blood was making me feel sick. Then I got a glimpse of an old cracked tombstone with Chris’ name written across it.. The same one that’s over there… I also caught a glimpse of a dark figure before I was startled awake.” 

“Woah,” Ze gasped, heading in the direction of the tombstone as she brushed aside the moss covering the name. 

“And this happens how often?” Neall asked. 

“Every night before the attacks.” Joseph sighed, hugging his knees tighter to his chest. “It randomly started a couple weeks before my dad’s death…” 

Asher immediately empathized with the younger boy, pulling him into a reassuring embrace. “I’m sorry Jo.”

Joseph leaned into the hug, clearly needing the comfort as he added, “You won’t tell anyone… Will you?”

“Not unless you want us to,” Neall promised. “Your secret stays with us.”

“Wait a second… This has a message engraved on it.” 

All attention fell on Zelene as her fingers traced the letters on the tombstone. “Veni, Vidi, Vici.”

“I came, I saw, I conquered,” Taj mimicked, finishing tying the bandage around Joseph’s arm. “Well he certainly came and saw, but I guess failed to conquer…”

“Yeah, that’s for sure!” Neall chuckled bitterly. 

Silence engulfed the group again as they shifted in their spots, a few yawns scattered around. 

“So… Joseph,” Chris mumbled. “Would it be possible for you to tell us whenever you get one of these visions? Just so we can be prepared?” 

Thinking to himself for a few seconds, the boy finally responded. “Yeah. I definitely could.”

“Great!” The officer grinned before cocking his head, eyes still trained on Joseph. “Now, promise me this. After you have a dream, I want you to stay put. No more heading after us. You have my number, so send me a call with all the details and then get some more sleep. There’s no need to be so selfless anymore! If anything, be more selfish!” Chris jabbed Jo on his good arm. “Get some extra shut eye!” 

Exhaling shakily, Joseph let them in on another secret. “Well… I wish I could but every time I have a prediction I’m just too scared to go back to sleep…”

“Okay. I’ll add something else to your promise list then!” Asher added, throwing his arm around the younger boy’s neck. “Whenever you have a nightmare, call Chris first… then call me. I only live about 5 minutes from your house and I’ll be over ASAP. I might even bring some hot chocolate with me!” 

“Thanks, Asher.” Jo smiled in appreciation before yawning again. 

Chris stood up from his spot, stretching his arms above his head as he made a final announcement. “Alrighty. Now that this is all settled, I say we head back home and get a good rest. After all, there’s only six hours till 8!”

“Aw… thanks for reminding me of my 8 AM class, Chris!” Asher cried, offering a hand to help Joseph to his feet.

With a clap signalling the end of the conversation, the group scattered. Taj provided Joseph with a couple instructions on cleaning his injury before being ushered to the car by Zelene. Asher motioned to Neall to follow them as he and Jo headed on their way across the graveyard. 

“Neall.”

The eldest boy pivoted on his heel, coming face to face with the utterly exhausted looking taskforce leader. 

“Do you suppose we should keep this secret between us?” 

“Why are you asking me?” Neall laughed at the serious expression on the latter’s face. “I wouldn’t know how your detective nonsense is run!” 

“Well… You’re older…”

“And wiser?”

“Yes, that too.”

Chuckling softly, Neall placed his hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “I think that chief of yours will find out eventually, but for now… I say let the boy live.” 

“Roger that,” Chris confirmed as he turned to depart.

Neall, however, stopped him in his tracks as he had one more thing to say. 

“And Chris?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t get wound up over this. We all believe in you.” 

The taskforce leader tried to ignore the fact that his eyes were beginning to tear up as his lips curled into a slight smile. “Thanks, Neall. I needed that.” 

“I know you did… Now go get some proper sleep!” 

Waving their farewells, the two finally parted ways and Neall watched Chris safely enter his vehicle as Zelene bugged him about being a slowpoke. With the door slam, he trudged along towards his own ride back as Asher started up the engine. 

He had a feeling in his gut that this was going to be the first of many long nights to come. And hopefully, this would be on the better end of them all.

Chapter Text

A week without a Black Mamba sighting should be quite the joyous occasion, but for Chris it just made him feel all the more uneasy. He didn’t know whether it was a good or bad thing to be on a break for Christmas… On the positive side, he wouldn’t have to stress about work every morning, but at the same time he didn’t know what to do with his life. 

He felt like his days were filled with staring at the frosty bitter weather outside as he lay in the comfort of his bed. It had started to snow a couple of days ago but that was enough time to engulf the whole town in several inches of white icy fluff. 

Luckily, Asher was also feeling bored out of his mind and had way too many plans for fun group outings. Taj had been feeling slightly ill so they had been waiting it out until today to do the first activity. It took some time, but they had eventually settled on scouring the forest behind the department for a Christmas tree. 

“Are you sure you’re feeling well enough to do this?” Chris asked with genuine concern for his younger taskforce member. 

He had just stopped by the boy’s apartment to give him a ride to the forest to meet up with the others. His dishevelled looking figure was making Chris worried, but Taj simply brushed it off with a bright, cheery smile. 

“I’m totally fine, Chris. I just needed some time to rest, that was all.” 

“Alright, but let me know if you need anything, please?”

“Okay,” Taj agreed, adjusting his worn, fraying scarf. 

If there was one thing that Chris knew it was that Taj would always wear his favorite blue scarf everywhere he went. He never told them anything about it, but Chris suspected it was a gift from a loved one that sparked his dedication to the object. Whatever the case may be though, Chris always felt a warm, adoring feeling in his chest whenever the younger buried himself farther into the scarf’s depths.  

“So Taj… Why did you recommend this part of the forest? I’m just curious since I’ve never been back there myself…”

Taj looked deep in thought, as he gazed out the front window of the car where the glittering snowflakes melted into the warmth of the windshield. “I used to go there every day as a trainee at the department. It really is beautiful back there… So many small trees and it even has a lake!” 

“Sounds nice!” Chris exclaimed, mentally planning out their day. “Does Zelene know about this spot too?”

“Yeah, she does,” Taj answered before lowering his voice to a soft chuckle. “That’s where we first officially met.”

Pretending not to hear the last part of the younger boy’s statement, Chris simply nodded in return, pulling into the station and waving at the group awaiting them. Locking the car behind him, he beckoned to Taj to lead the way and the rest of the squad trailed slowly behind him. 

Taj and Ze had immediately started to chat about the break in Mamba sightings and Neall was deep in an animated conversation about a pasta sauce disaster as Jo listened rather intently. That left Asher who had conveniently slowed the pace of his strides to hang with Chris. 

“Hey! It has been a week since we last talked and I feel like there’s a million different things to catch up with.”

“Your feelings deceive you,” the elder boy teased. “I have been lying unproductively on my bed for at least 23 hours a day.”

“Well dang,” Asher gaped as Chris laughed at his shocked expression. “That sounds very uneventful.”

“Enough about my boring life, what have you been up to?”

“Baking mostly, lots of cookies!” The extrovert seemed quite excited to share, arms flying above his head to exaggerate a new topic. “And I also built a snowman taller than myself which I had to bring a stool outside to make.” 

“Wow!” Chris attempted to sound amused and although he cringed internally, his friend didn’t seem to notice at all. “Is he still alive?”

“Unfortunately not… The kids in the apartment across the street from the uni used its guts to create snowballs.” 

“Those kids are such menaces. Weren’t they the same ones that told you that your sweater last week was really and truly ugly?”

“Yup, those are the same kids… Mind you I did take that as a compliment though. It was supposed to be an ugly sweater anyways!”

“Yeah, I’m not surprised,” Chris sneered, elbowing the taller boy. “Though frankly I agree with them…” 

They laughed together before falling into a comfortable silence. 

“So how’s Taj doing?” Asher finally asked.

“He says he’s fine but I’m not sure whether or not to believe him.”

“Yeah, he’s pretty good at pretending…” Asher sighed, eyes trained on the target of their conversation. “We’ll have to keep an eye on him.”

“That’s for sure,” Chris replied with a quick nod as he flipped up the hood of his jacket to cover his ears from the nippy winter’s wind. 

“Y’know… he texted me yesterday and told me that he really wanted to come today because he didn’t know how long your break would last and that he didn’t want to waste his time at home when he should be spending time with all of us.”

“Wow,” Chris muttered under his breath to match the hush in Asher’s voice. “He never told me any of that but I’m honestly not surprised considering how selfless that man is.” 

Within the next couple of minutes they reached their destination. The large lake, now topped with a thick layer of ice, was surrounded by mini trees that would be perfect to put up in their apartments.

“Okay gang!” Neall announced, helping to pull a whole axe from Zelene’s backpack. “Which one shall it be?”

“Before we answer that, where the heck did you get an axe from??” Asher guffawed from beside Chris. 

“Oh, just found it in the department supply closet…” Ze shrugged, swinging the weapon around dangerously which received mixed reactions from the group. 

Neall threw his hands in front of him for protection with a giant smirk on his face. “Woah watch where you swing that, I value my life!”

“Ze, please be careful… None of us want you to get hurt right before Christmas,” Taj anxiously worried. 

Chris finally decided to take charge of the situation, trudging through the snow towards the axe wielding girl with a warning hand gesture. “Before we go chopping down innocent trees, let’s find out who actually wants one in their living room.”

“Living room?” Zelene interrupted, “What if I want a tree in my bathroom or in-”

“Ze!” Chris groaned in exasperation. “That isn’t the point of the question.”

“Righto, sir. I would like a tree to go in my kitchen.”

Slapping his forehead in defeat, Chris searched the area for a show of hands spotting only Taj and Asher. 

“No one else?”

Joseph signed something that Ash quickly interpreted. “Jo’s mom probably wouldn’t approve of a real tree. She always gets the fake ones so it's easy enough to take down at the end of the season.” 

“Got it. Neall?”

“Just don’t have the room for it, but that doesn’t mean I’m missing out on the fun, I’ll gladly murder someone’s tree for them!” Neall shrugged. 

“You can help with mine!” Taj gladly accepted.

Stomping towards the nearest pine tree, Ze suddenly took a swing at it, the axe landing with a piercing crack that caused the rest of the group to jump in shock. 

“I choose this one!” she declared, winding up before landing another clean chop at the trunk. 

One after another the cut in the wood grew increasingly larger as five pairs of eyes watched intently. With a final swing, the small tree collapsed onto the powdery forest floor amidst several cheers. 

Ze roared in victory, brandishing the axe and the congratulations of the crowd turned into screams of fear and laughter. 

The purple haired girl reluctantly handed her weapon to its next of kin. Then the tree chopping team began to scour the area for the perfect pine. Forgotten in the background, Joseph seemed to be deep in thought from where he stood on the side of the lake, fiddling with the zipper on his jacket. 

“Hey Jo!” Chris greeted the younger warmly as he approached. “How’s your arm?” Receiving a thumbs up, he asked another question. “What are you thinking about?”

Struggling with his mittened hands, the boy grabbed his notebook from his pocket and scribbled a legible sentence onto the empty page. “I was wondering if the ice is thick enough to step on? It has only been snowing for 3 days, but the freezing temperatures have been lingering for a while now.”

“Here, let me test it for you…” Chris murmured, brushing aside the snow until he found a decent sized rock. He then chucked it full force into the middle of the lake where it landed with a thump, however, the ice remained intact. Chris placed his foot carefully onto the surface and bounced a couple of times before gliding out into the middle of their new ice rink. He took a moment to appreciate the utterly shocked expression on the hazel eyed boy’s face before continuing as if it weren’t already obvious. “Seems good to me!” 

Chris offered a hand towards Joseph. Grinning happily, the latter took hold and slipped out onto the lake. Noticing the unsteadiness in his stance, Chris couldn’t help but ask an important question. “Have you been skating before?”

The boy shook his head, denying the query before focusing back on his clumsy feet. 

“It’s really not as hard as you probably think it is!” Chris instructed rather professionally. “I was a beginner too once and my old friend taught me on the icy sidewalk outside where we lived. You turn one foot out to make a V shape and bend your knees for better balance.”

Closely following the elder’s instructions, Joseph awaited the next step. 

“Your back foot will be your anchor which will push you forward. Glide on your front foot and make sure it stays in a straight line like this!” 

Chris demonstrated, gliding gracefully across the slippery surface. Although he was only wearing boots and not skates he believed that he was doing a pretty decent job at it. 

“To finish off, turn your feet back out into the V,” he finished, pivoting around to face his eager student as he skated back to grab his hand. “Now you give it a try. V shape. Back foot anchor and glide!”

Imitating the motions, Joseph shakily slid along the ice. 

“There you go!” Chris cheered him on. “Keep going!”

One stride at a time, the hesitant slipping turned into smooth drifting as Chris gently released the boy’s hand watching as he continued gliding confidently around the lake. 

“Go Joseph!!” Taj cheered from the sidelines, dragging his newly chopped pine tree as the others followed suit. 

Making a final lap, Jo slowed to a stop, nearly falling over but somehow remaining on his feet with a sheepish grin.

“Maybe we can work on stopping a bit more, but you’re a natural at this!” Chris confided in the younger boy. 

A thud resounded across the forest followed by hysterical laughter as Asher tried and failed to step onto the ice, now sliding on his back into the lake’s center. 

“Be glad you aren’t as bad at skating as this guy!” Neall joked, clutching his stomach from the endless hysterics. 

“Hey!” Asher acted insulted, flipping over to his stomach in an attempt to stand up which also conveniently ended in disaster and defeat. “Can I get some help, please?”

“Thank you for asking so politely, of course we can help,” Neall jabbed back. “But I can’t skate either.” 

Seizing the opportunity, Zelene shoved the taller boy out onto the ice where he joined Asher’s communal heap. Grabbing hold of Taj’s arm, she dragged him towards the lake with her and the two glided right on their way. 

“Well we do and we refuse to help!” she sneered, towing her captive away. 

Chris circled around the perimeter of the ice, following closely behind Joseph. They eventually made it to the other side, offering the much needed aid to the two boys on their hands and knees. 

“Jo, would you care to teach these buffoons how to skate?” Chris queried much to the boy’s surprise. 

He didn’t deny the request however, and started signing instructions to the blonde haired boy who gladly translated the steps so the elder could follow. 

Chris rubbed his hands together in an effort to warm them up as he observed the lovely couple skating across the lake. They were now laughing at some inaudible joke just between the two of them, but the blush on Taj’s face was quite obvious. In Chris’ opinion they were destined for each other. He, Neall, and Asher would occasionally meet up and discuss the tea about the quiet relationship. Sadly it also seemed likely that Taj would never be brave enough to admit he liked the girl and Zelene would never realize how down bad the boy was for her and her only. 

“I’m doing it!!” Asher’s screech of joy echoed across the forest a split second before he nearly face planted onto the cold ice. Though still a rather unnatural way to ice skate, arms flailing around in the air, it was much better than Neall who was quite literally being dragged by the smaller boy.

“Neall, don’t make poor Joseph do all the work for you!” Chris scolded, sliding over to help the duo. 

Another ten minutes passed and although Chris never said it directly to the boys it was pretty obvious that little to no progress was being made. Several hard slams and many fits of laughter (and judging) later, they finally met up with the hopefully soon to be official couple. 

Noticing the exhaustion written all over Taj’s face, Chris took it as their sign to depart. “You guys ready to go?” he called, met with mixed opinions. It was time for a bargain. “I’ll make you all hot chocolate?”

“Aw heck yeah!” Asher eventually complied, slipping off of the ice and rolling onto his back in the safety of the snow. 

Zelene clearly had heaps of energy left as she grabbed one of the trees and set up a challenge. “Who wants to race with these to the cars? I bet you boys can’t match my speed!” 

“Oh you’re on!” Asher bounced back to his feet, trampling through the deep powder on the forest floor. 

Neall made a deal that only if Joseph helped him would he join the game, which the others reluctantly accepted. Then with a countdown, the four were off leaving Chris and Taj behind. 

“Taj, I know that you probably want to join us but I promise that you won’t miss out on much,” Chris addressed the tired younger task force member. “Go home!”

“Yeah, I think I will!” Taj sighed, feeling his forehead with the back of his hand. 

“Do you have a fever, you idiot?” Chris playfully accused. His companion nodded, slightly embarrassed. “I knew you shouldn’t have come today!”

Taj fell silent, not able to argue back as he accepted his defeat, lowering his head in shame. 

The older boy reached over and ruffled the latter’s snowflake covered hair. “It’s in the past now, we can’t change that. But what you can change is getting some rest. We have 3 days until Christmas and I want you to feel energized and refuelled by then!” 

“Thanks, Chris,” Taj quietly chuckled. 

“No worries. Just promise me that you will call and let us know if there is anything you need?”

The younger boy didn’t return the eye contact as his gaze remained on the snowy ground. “Of course.”

Chris didn’t want to push him any farther, so he gave up on his pursuit and made the rest of the journey to the cars in silence. He kicked out the passengers from Taj’s car and invited them into his own. Chris watched as the sickly boy backed out his vehicle, waved goodbye, and headed on his way home. 

Taj was always soft-spoken and there were many things that Chris still didn’t know about him, but he had hope that one day Taj would have the confidence to confide in him and the others and not just keep all his worries to himself. 

───────  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ♠ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───────

The Cedarbrooke Heights town square was beautifully decorated for the annual Christmas market. Low hanging colored lights adorned the lampposts and dozens of local street vendors had decorated their tents to make the occasion even more festive. Jolly holiday tunes were blasting from the speakers, bustling swarms of people roamed the streets, and there Chris was stuck in the middle of it all. 

To be completely honest, he hated crowds. They made him feel so small, so alone… But he had to be here today. After all, he was on a mission. 

Asher had suggested a Secret Santa for Christmas during the hot chocolate break the other day and the group vote was unanimously all for it. So names were pulled out of a hat and now Chris was stuck doing last minute Christmas shopping along with the rest of the people in the town square. 

They had only known Joseph for a couple of weeks and coincidentally Chris had been the one to pull his name. He knew the boy loved cats, however that was all the information he had. Honestly, he felt really bad about it, but his job took up all his time leaving none left to hang out with the new addition to the friend group. 

Everything changed, however, after learning of the high schooler’s secret power. Would it be possible to use his ability to finally capture the Mamba? Or would that just put Joseph in danger? Chris was left grappling with the two possibilities but the boy’s safety was clearly the top priority. 

Weaving through crowds, he attempted to avoid human contact with a single soul. He kept his gaze trained on the cobblestone street but eventually bumped shoulders with a stranger, almost causing the man to drop a wrapped bundle. Spinning around to apologize immediately, Chris realized he actually recognized the person. 

“Neall?”

“Oh, Chris!” The older boy looked rather flustered, but all together happy to see him. “I wasn’t expecting to meet you here!”

“Same here!” Chris laughed, eyes fixed on the mysterious package. “Gift shopping?”

“Yeah, you too?”

“Mhm.” The taskforce leader nodded. “Who for?”

“Oh I can’t tell you that or it’ll spoil the surprise!” Neall gasped, clutching the brown paper package closer to his chest.

“Ah, based on that reaction I can already assume who you have…” jeered Chris, slapping his friend on the arm as the other scowled in response. “I got Joseph and I don’t know what the heck to get him.” 

Humming in return, the elder turned on his heel and waved at Chris to follow him. “I think I have an idea, but you have to sit down for coffee with me.”

“Wow, a threat?” The green eyed man smirked. “But I’ll take you up on that offer.”

The door of the bakery jingled, announcing the duo's arrival and the young woman at the register greeted them in turn. 

“One thing I know for sure is that boy has a sweet tooth,” announced Neall as he pointed towards the large selection of cookies on display. “He once ate four whole cookies and even accepted Ash’s offer to bring the rest of the batch home with him.” 

“Gotcha! Thanks a lot for your help!” 

Chris approached the counter and placed an order for a dozen different cookies, watching as Neall took his place shortly afterwards. 

“What do you want?” he asked expectantly. “It’s on me today.”

“A small black coffee would be perfect, Neall.”

Turning with a smile to the cashier, Neall slightly misinterpreted the order. “May I have a small matcha latte and a medium black coffee please?” 

Rolling his eyes at the cheesy expression on the elder’s face, Chris went to find a table as they waited, placing his box of sweet treats on the extra chair. 

Pulling out the extra seat, the chef rested his elbows on the table, a wide grin on his face. “So… Wanna hear some tea?” 

Smiling slyly in return Chris leaned in, mimicking the boy’s pose. “Absolutely. Spill it!”

“So since Taj wasn’t there when we distributed the names, I had to text him. Guess who he got?”

“His future girlfriend?”

“Exactly.”

“Damn.”

“Exactly. I had to text him saying like ‘this is your chance to propose!’ and of course he rebuked me and got all embarrassed. Anyways, I somehow or other convinced him to tell me what he got her… An amethyst pendant necklace.”

Gasping in shock, Chris glanced at the bag beside him, sharply motioning to the sweet treats. “And I just got Joseph cookies?!” 

Laughing at the younger boy’s antics, Neall consoled him. “Those cookies are Jo’s equivalent of a dozen amethyst necklaces.” 

Neall’s name was suddenly called and while he left his chair to grab their drinks Chris snatched up his phone to look up the price of the jewelry. 

“$250?!” he exclaimed as the older man returned, gifting him with his hot drink. 

 “Yeah. Insane, right?”

“He really isn’t letting this opportunity slide…”

“They should just get together already.”

Chris nodded, absolutely agreeing with the statement. He took a sip of his steaming coffee, immediately feeling warmer than he did a second ago. 

“By the way, I did some research on the old science center and found something quite interesting…” Neall rapidly changed the subject and Chris made sure that he knew he had his full attention. “So Project Atomicix was the reason why the building was destroyed but no one really knew what the purpose of it was other than the fact that there was human experimentation going on. I asked Asher for some sites where I may be able to find the hidden secrets of the building and he gave me a few that he used for his newspaper articles all the time.” 

“Well…” he hesitated for a moment, expression grave. “Project Atomicix’s whole goal was to create a serum that would allow someone to look into the future.”

Letting the crucial information sink in, Chris asked a question, voice slightly wavering as he spoke, “So you think it has something to do with Joseph’s power?”

“Maybe. I don’t think we know enough about him to completely confirm it though…”

“Yeah,” Chris added, “The science center and all of the equipment in it was burned to the ground years ago. Also, Jo said that he hadn’t always been this way and it only started a couple years ago after his dad passed away, so the timeline doesn’t quite clock out.”

“I agree…” Neall solemnly nodded. “It doesn’t quite make sense, I just took a leap with that theory.”

“But that doesn’t mean it’s wrong though.”

“I guess so…”

“It really is good information to have.” Chris attempted to make the older boy feel a bit better, patting him on the shoulder from across the table. “Maybe we can investigate more about it after the Mamba case is over?”

“One step at a time, right?”

“Right.” Chris grinned, warming his hands by holding his cup of coffee which was now halfway empty. 

“So…” Neall smiled comfortingly as he cleared his throat. “How are you feeling about this Christmas?”

Even though the question was so plainly stated, Chris knew exactly what the man was hinting at. “I was really hoping that we would find him before the holidays…”

“Me too.” Neall sighed sadly. 

Chris took a moment to collect his thoughts before continuing. “It just isn’t the same without him.”

The older boy watched intently. It almost seemed like he could see everything that Chris was feeling. The regret. The loneliness. The total hopelessness that he was desperately trying not to drown in. 

“You know you can talk to me whenever you need, right?” 

Smiling in appreciation Chris nodded back. “Of course.”

Clearly happy with the reply, Neall looked rather pleased before checking his watch. “Well, I need to get back before the dinner rush hits the restaurant but I’ll finish my latte first.” He took another sip of his drink, using a napkin to wipe some of the foam from his lips. 

Chris felt it would be a great time to express his gratitude to his friend. Neall, Asher, Taj, Zelene, Joseph, and Matthew… They were the reason he was still alive. Because of them he wouldn’t let the sadness consume him as he lay on his bedroom floor, counting the ceiling tiles on his roof. They were why he managed to brave the darkness of his life. 

But how was he supposed to tell them how much they truly meant to him?

And so Chris savored every second of Neall’s brief farewell before he let go. He watched as the boy picked up his small parcel and cradled it carefully in his arms. He waved as Neall disappeared down the street. And then he was alone again with his thoughts and a missed opportunity. 

One day in the future he swore to express his thankfulness for the group. One day before it was too late. 

───────  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ♠ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───────

“Surprise!!” 

Five familiar faces greeted Chris at his front door, but luckily he was prepared. 

Chris had woken up at 8 AM for the first time in years. He didn’t know exactly why he finally got an adequate amount of sleep the day before Christmas, but if it was a little bit of holiday magic, he was more than grateful. 

After Neall left he had found some cute Christmas decorations at a vendor’s tent and figured that he would make his empty apartment at least a little festive. He may or may not have carried that idea too far as when he opened the box of gathered supplies on Christmas day he was shocked by what he saw. 

Whatever the case may be however, his apartment was ready for the visitor's arrival and boy did it ever look like a party. 

“Wow, Chris! This is amazing!” Asher exclaimed in joy and beside him Joseph’s mouth hung agape in shock much to his amusement. 

The proud owner of the apartment watched as his guests scattered around his home, in awe at his work. “You can put your presents near that gnome over there by the way!” 

“A gnome, Chris? Really?” Neall judged harshly. “Isn’t gnome collecting for 40 year old women?” 

“Lies! Anyone can collect gnomes!” the accused boy responded. 

Once all the gifts were neatly placed near the bearded figure, the squad scattered. Some found spots on the couch to chat amiably and Chris returned to the kitchen to continue his horrid attempt to cook a turkey for dinner. 

Luckily for him, there was a chef nearby. “You’re doing it all wrong,” Neall interjected from where he leaned against the counter, arms crossed in front of his chest. 

“Would you care to help instead of judging me?”

“Help? No. Take over your job so our food doesn’t end up in the disposal by the end of the night? Absolutely.” 

Chris found himself shoved out of the kitchen and told to go socialize, a statement that he frankly did not like. So, he found a comfy spot on the carpet of the living room and listened in on the conversations. 

Joseph sat on the couch, notebook and pen in hand as Taj asked curiously about the boy’s cat. 

“So you worked at the local animal shelter?”

“Volunteered for a couple years,” Jo etched out. “I really enjoyed it and met some awesome people there.”

“That sounds amazing!” Taj smiled. “Did you help with cats only or other pets?” 

It was quite obvious to Chris that Taj kept sneaking glances away from the younger boy whenever he was writing. His gaze fell right on the vibrant purple-haired girl who was sprawled out on the couch in a heated debate with Asher. 

“So you hate the snow?!” 

“No, no! That’s not what I meant,” Asher panicked, throwing his hands up to show his submission. “I’m just saying that I’m more of a summer person myself. I still like snow, but I would prefer to be at the beach if you know what I mean?”

“No, I do not in fact know what you mean!” Ze fired back. “I, for a fact, have a burning hatred of sand.”

“Good information. Now I know what to get for your birthday.”

“Oh shut the hell up.” 

Suddenly, Zelene’s eyes had fallen straight on Chris as he was unintentionally pulled into the conversation. 

“Chris, let’s settle this once and for all,” she demanded with confidence. “Summer or winter?”

“Uh… Autumn.”

Unanimous groans of annoyance sounded from the duo and Neall’s voice bellowed from the kitchen, “It’s because the falling leaves are so depressing, like himself!”

Chris shot a glare back at his insulter as the man laughed like a maniac, sliding the turkey into the oven as he began washing his hands. “I like winter!”

“HA!” Zelene bellowed, leaping to her feet as she pointed an accusing finger at the defeated boy. “I told you winter was better!!” 

Taj obviously felt the need to help Asher in his time of need even if it meant fighting against the prideful young woman. “But I kinda like summer… the cold weather makes me sick sometimes.”

Poor Joseph soon found himself surrounded by expectant faces as he was overwhelmed by the burning question. Watching the boy hesitate before writing down his response, Chris decided it was about time to interrupt as he ran over to the pile of presents. 

“Oh! Look at that Neall’s all done in the kitchen, so let’s get started on the Secret Santa!” Shoving the crowd aside, he placed his wrapped gift onto the youngest boy’s lap with a knowing grin. “Go on, Jo! You can open it!”

Pushing his empty notebook aside, Jo tenderly pulled apart the packaging of his gift and Chris waited in anticipation of his reaction. 

The moment the boy’s eyes met the sweet treats his whole face lit up in excitement. Joseph’s hands moved swiftly as Asher translated, slowly reaching over towards the box. “Thank you so much! How did you know cookies were my favorite food ever??” 

Chris laughed as Jo swatted the greedy hands trying to steal his food away. “Oh, I just know!” he stated, exchanging a quick wink with Neall. 

The gift trade continued on as Joseph brought Neall a cute sea creature themed set of spatulas and whisks much to the elder’s exhilaration. 

While the group’s attention was still focused on the previous gift and deep in another argument, Neall grabbed the same brown paper parcel from the market and handed it to Chris. 

“So you did pull my name!”

“Yeah…” Neall sheepishly laughed. “At that point I couldn’t really do much to hide it!”

Chris untied the neat string around the box, tearing away at the wrapping paper. 

A small glass cube lay inside the protective covering. Chris inspected it, flipping the object around. The older boy grabbed onto his hands and directed them up to the roof. “Hold it up to the light.” 

Etched into the center of the cube was an image which Chris recognized from last spring. A selfie of the group as they lay on a picnic blanket, marshmallows and hot chocolate in hand, with the starry sky and the silhouette of the distant city in the background. Chris, Neall, Asher, Taj, Zelene, and Matthew.  His brother’s warm inviting eyes, filled with joy, staring right at Chris’s own rekindled happy memories.

Driving past the city limits into the forests, car windows open and breezy wind blowing through the cracks they made their way down the winding trails singing karaoke all the way. Before Matthew disappeared they had vowed to make it a monthly occurrence so they would meet up on the top of the mountains bordering Cedarbrooke Heights for a camping trip. It was far enough away to see the stars yet close enough for the city skyline to still be visible on the horizon. It was a place where no one had to worry about the burdens of life. A place where they didn’t have a care in the world. A place where they could be together. 

“We should take a picture!” Asher had suggested as they sat around the makeshift campfire. “It’ll make the moment last longer.” 

“Good idea.” Neall smiled, taking out his phone as the group struggled to get in frame. 

Several minutes later they had finally taken the photo they were hoping for. The friends were all squished together in one giant huddle to inspect the image closely. 

“Wow, Zelene. You’re so photogenic!” Taj stated incredulously to which the girl scoffed. 

“Of course I am! It's simply natural. My mom used to want to be a photographer. The flashes don’t stop!” 

“Zelene! Humble yourself!” Matthew scolded playfully. 

Chris watched as the group burst into joyful laughter. They were so young and carefree, oblivious of the horrors to come. 

In the present, he tried to ignore the tears welling up in his eyes, rubbing them away. Neall noticed and sat down beside the boy, offering the comfort of his presence, yet Chris needed more, leaning in for an embrace. He could feel the elder’s breath hitch for a moment in shock at the touch. After all, Chris was never the one to initiate a hug. 

Chris buried his face into his friend’s sweater, immersed in the hug that he never knew he needed and they simply stayed there. It lasted for ten seconds, thirty, a minute. Neither of the boys even enjoyed hugs, yet they didn’t want this one to end. Unfortunately, however, Chris knew he had to let himself move on. 

Finally pulling away, Chris studied the keepsake in his shaking hands, holding it tightly towards his chest as his gaze met Neall’s. 

“You know, we should really take another photo this time including Joseph…” Neall stuttered. “I wasn’t really sure if you’d like it or not and I’m no good at finding meaningful gifts so-”

“Thank you.” 

Neall smiled gently back at the grateful boy. “Of course.” He paused for a moment before looking around the room. He eventually came to the embarrassing realization that the rest of the squad was patiently awaiting the end of the touching moment and it hit him that there were still three more people waiting for their own gifts. “I’m so sorry about that, you guys can continue now!” 

There was no judgment passed in the group, only a sense of mutual understanding as they went back to the Secret Santa, ignoring the happenings of before. 

Ze found an obnoxiously bright red bag in the pile and handed it straight to Asher. “I’m still annoyed about earlier, but here’s your gift.” 

Chuckling at the fact that she still held a grudge about a stupid argument, Ash accepted the present, tossing away the white tissue paper. He pulled out what originally appeared to be LED lights until he spotted the image on the front of the box. “ToiLight?”

“Yup!” Ze proudly smirked, playfully slapping Asher’s shoulder. “LED lights to decorate your toilet seat with. Now you can do your business in style!” 

The previously tense atmosphere immediately disappeared as the whole friend group burst out laughing at the flustered boy. 

“This is something you, and only you would do Ze.” 

“I know. I’m unique,” the girl claimed, standing with her hands perched on her hips. “Ya know there’s something else in there, right?”

Asher continued to dig in the bag, eventually breaking out into a huge smile as he proudly showed off his new possession, a stuffed capybara. “Oh my gosh this is freaking adorable!!”

“I knew you’d like it!” boasted Zelene, finally helping to clean up the trash from the floor as the blonde haired boy cuddled with his plush. 

The festivities continued as the capybara was passed around the room along with some cookies (courtesy of Joseph). Taj opened his present to find a set of guitar picks and a tuner which he was overjoyed to receive. The alarm for the turkey went off and conversation broke out once more as most forgot the final gift giver. 

Chris had been enjoying his white chocolate macadamia nut cookie until Neall elbowed him, raising his eyebrows. Chris followed the boy’s line of sight to find Zelene, hand clasped over her mouth in shock, holding the very amethyst necklace that Taj had gone out of his way to buy for her simply because it matched her hair. 

Taj waited, holding his breath as his foot tapped nervously on the floor, scratching the side of his scarf, his typical fidgeting habit. And then Zelene practically leapt on top of him, giving the surprised boy a rib crushing hug which he timidly returned. 

And for Taj, this was a dream come true.

Chapter Text

Taj always knew that time was a valuable thing, but he only realized that it waits for no one once it was too late to turn back. 

He had an older sister once. “Sunshine” was the nickname that their grandparents had given to her and in Taj’s opinion it suited her perfectly. Aria was kind, caring, and smart. She had so many friends at school, she was a straight A student… She was everything that Taj had aspired to be. 

He remembered the last day anything in his life was ever normal. Three months before they were scattered what seemed to be worlds apart. Three months before all her belongings were packed away in boxes. Three months before he saw her for the last time. 

Taj had slipped outside into the backyard, climbed up the giant oak with his guitar in hand and settled himself on the biggest branch of the tree. He was in denial that day, so much so that he didn’t even have the motivation to write another song. And so he sat in silence, broken and defeated. 

“Taj, I’m coming up,” Aria’s comforting voice called from beneath the canopy of green leaves. He remained silent, knowing that no matter what he said, she wouldn’t take no for an answer and so the branches below creaked as she climbed up to join him. The first thing she did was give him a comforting hug before settling down across from him with the kindest smile, one that only she possessed. 

“Bad day at school?” she asked, brushing her long dark hair out of her face. 

Taj nodded, attempting to hide the throbbing bruise on his cheek from her sight. Unfortunately, Aria could see right through him and took notice of it immediately. 

“Should we go back inside to get some ice?” she sympathized, grabbing his hand in a reassuring gesture. 

“No,” Taj muttered under his breath, “I don’t want Gramps and Nana to worry.”

Aria continued to stare, her understanding brown eyes gazing at the boy. “I know. I could sneak you in again, just like last time?” 

“I would love that…” Taj agreed,.“But I think I just need some more time.”

“Totally fine with me!” The older girl smiled before becoming concerned again for her brother’s safety. “You need to go find some friends Taj… It’ll be good for you.”

Taj knew she was right, but he just couldn’t be like her… He wasn’t friendly, he wasn’t outgoing… He was actually quite the opposite. He wouldn’t utter a word at school and because of that no one ever wanted to approach him. Except for the bullies of course- They knew the boy would never speak up for himself, making him the perfect target. 

Sensing that Taj didn’t want to discuss his lack of friends, Aria changed the topic of their conversation. “Y’know if I were in middle school with you I would beat those bullies up.”

Of course she would. Aria was always protective of Taj but because of their five year age gap they were never in the same school together. It might be a good thing though since she had gotten in trouble at the park a couple years ago for slapping a girl who pushed Taj off the swingset. Gramps and Nana hadn’t been very happy about that and she got grounded for the week. Aria, however, knew that if it ever happened again she would repeat her mistakes a thousand times over if it meant keeping Taj safe. 

“I presented my project today by the way,” Aria continued, legs swinging leisurely where they hung below the branch. “The one on the effects of pollution on sea life. Ms. Kay was very pleased with it, so I’m manifesting an A.”

“Why are you doubting yourself?” Taj quietly asked. “You always get good grades regardless and your project was really amazing.”

Laughing at the younger boy’s response, Aria grinned back. “You are correct, but it’s never too late to get a B, right?”

“In your senior year? I’m sure you can hang onto those perfect grades for the last couple of weeks!” 

She shrugged. “Yeah, good point!” 

Aria’s graduation was in a couple of weeks and man was she ever excited to get out of Cedarbrooke High School. In fact, she was eager to escape Cedarbrooke altogether. 

Aria always had big dreams and a huge potential to do great things in her life. In Taj’s opinion, she was practically a genius. She could ramble on and on about topics that Taj couldn’t even comprehend. 

She had recently applied to several colleges. One in Cedarbrooke Heights, the rest out of the country. Unfortunately, Taj knew that the kind-hearted girl would never move out of the city and leave her beloved younger brother behind unless he encouraged her to. After all, she knew his deepest fears better than anyone else. 

Taj hated being alone. 

Aria was the only friend he had. She was the only one who truly understood him and therefore, was the only one he ever bothered to talk to. But the only thing they had in common was that they were both selfless. And since he couldn’t bear seeing the girl’s dreams being crushed, Taj grew to be something that Aria could never be. A liar.

“I’m feeling much better now, Ari,” he claimed with a forced smile. 

The girl took it for granted. “I’m glad. Now if you don’t mind, could you play me a tune before we head inside?” she motioned to the guitar resting on his lap. 

“Sure.” 

Fingers pressing down on the fretboard to create musical chords, Taj strummed up and down over the strings, a feeling that was so familiar to him that it was almost natural. It was a song that the two siblings had written together the night they moved in with their grandparents after their parents passed away. It kept them going through both thick and thin, but no matter the occasion it always brought a smile to Taj’s face. After all, it was Aria’s song. 

The dark haired girl rocked back and forth, humming their tune along with the sound of the guitar, the two mixing together to create a wonderful melody. The music drifted through the air with the wind blowing the leaves of the tree. It surrounded Taj and suddenly all his worries and anxieties seemed to fly away with the breeze. 

And when it was all over, the comfort of the song was replaced by a warm hug that he would always melt into every single time. 

“Love you forever, Taj.” 

It was a few months later that Taj realized that forever only lasted so long. 

───────  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ♠ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───────

“I got in!!”

Taj was rendered speechless, mind racing a hundred miles an hour as he stared at his sister. She had just burst into his bedroom, sporting the biggest grin on her face. “Princeton University?” he asked, trying to ignore the way his voice slightly quavered. 

“Yeah! I was accepted!”

Oh.

“I’m so happy for you!” 

That was another one of his lies. Something deep inside of him just broke. Maybe it was his heart, consumed by an empty hole that will never be filled, knowing well enough that he was going to be left behind… Knowing that she was going to create a whole new life miles away that didn’t include him in it. 

But it was inevitable. She was leaving him behind. Taj never realized how dependent he was on Aria. But now that she was truly going, he really couldn’t picture his life without her. And here he was holding her in an embrace, burying his head in her shoulder and holding in all the tears that threatened to spill down his face. 

He would be fine. 

He would find friends, ones that weren’t just imaginary. 

He would stand up to all the bullies that tortured him at school. 

He would have no one there to comfort him at the end of every single day. 

He would be alone. 

But he would be okay… Right?

───────  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ♠ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───────

Taj still remembered the heartbroken screams of his grandparents when they received the news. 

He had been enjoying his leisure time in his bedroom, scribbling down lyrics for a new song when he heard the cries from the kitchen. Jumping to his feet so fast that his guitar clattered to the ground, Taj didn’t even bother to check on the instrument as he scrambled down the stairs towards his grandparents. 

“Gramps? Nana?” Taj exclaimed in horror, seeing the couple curled up on the cold tiles of the kitchen floor, cradling each other as tears streamed down their faces. Spotting the phone in his grandma’s shaking hands, Taj grabbed it, holding the device to his ear. “What’s going on?”

“I’m sorry,” answered the other voice. Taj picked up the sound of sirens through the speakers. “She’s gone.” 

Heart racing a hundred miles an hour, Taj began to panic, already putting the pieces together, yet still he asked the dreaded question. “Wh-who’s gone?” 

A silence was heard on the other end of the call as the man talked to others in the background before clearing his throat. 

“Sir, are you related to Aria Meyers?”

───────  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ♠ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───────

An overdose, the officer had said. 

How was it possible that someone so happy could do something so unimaginable. 

Aria and Taj had a virtual meeting the week before her death and he now knew that he had missed every clue. The way her voice sounded more weary than usual, the dark circles under her eyes, the way she encouraged him more than ever to find some new friends at school because she knew she wouldn’t be around much longer. 

And she left nothing behind. No warnings, no goodbye letters… only a darkness that consumed Taj’s whole entire life. 

No matter how many times his grandparents urged him to head out of his room, Taj wouldn’t leave. He just lay on his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. He was surviving off of what little he ate from the meals his grandparents had slid under his door. His brain was too tired to even think, let alone process his feelings. In fact, he felt nothing.

It was weird, really. No sadness, no stress, just a dull ache in his heart that wouldn’t go away. 

He had missed school for two entire weeks and though he had no intentions of heading back to the worst place in all of Cedarbrooke Heights, he knew he couldn’t ignore the world for this long. 

And so on that fateful Tuesday morning Taj walked to campus, ignoring all the concerned stares that were directed right at him. 

The blue scarf was the only piece of Aria that he had left. It had been a gift for his birthday, one that he never really bothered to use. Now, there wasn’t a day he missed an opportunity to wear it. The fuzzy cloth wrapped around his neck was the closest thing to a hug from his sister that he would get. It brought him a sense of comfort so there he was in his first class of the day, dwelling in the warmth of his scarf and drowning out everything around him. 

The first three classes seemed as though time was in slow motion, but Taj somehow or other made it through it until their midday break. He found himself in the men’s bathroom, brushing down his unkempt hair. Taj noticed how visibly exhausted he looked through the mirror. Other than the fact that he mentally felt like he was barely surviving anymore he had never noticed how it physically affected him. His own blank lifeless eyes were reminiscent of Aria’s as he saw her at the funeral that day. Taj had still been grappling with reality as he watched her coffin be lowered into the ground, never to be seen again. 

Before his groggy brain could even react, his least favorite person was grabbing the cuff of his shirt and slamming him against the cold bathroom walls. 

The two locked eyes, one pair full of fiery pride, the other complete hopelessness. 

“Glad to see that you’re back, crybaby!” Jaiden smirked, grip tightening as he glared at his victim. “So, what took you so long? Too scared to show your face?”

Taj said nothing in return as his gaze fell to the dirty tile floors that he knew he would end up lying on by the end of this encounter. Why should he even bother at this point? 

The bully’s expression suddenly changed to one of annoyance. “You know I hate being ignored. Answer my question,” he demanded, voice lowering to a condescending tone. 

Taj still refused to comply, completely drained of any will to fight back as he was shoved forcefully into the sink. He gasped in pain when his side slammed into the hard edge of the counter, sending him tumbling to the ground. 

Taj clutched his injury, bringing his knees up to his chest in an effort to protect himself from further attacks, yet all Jaiden did was laugh over his pitiful form. “C’mon! That’s all you’ve got? Get up and defend yourself!!” 

Shakily rolling over to his hands and knees, Taj attempted to stand up, eyes trained on the door, his only escape from this hell. Taking a rather unstable step towards the exit, he received another hard hit as Jaiden swung his fist straight at his face, causing the smaller boy to go tumbling to the ground once more. 

Taj’s ears rang as everything seemed like it was in slow motion, his breathing growing more panicked by the second. Heartbeat racing and head pounding, he braced for impact as the boy’s heavy shoe came in contact with his already bruising side. A wave of pain washed over him as the hits continued on. 

Taj’s eyes were screwed shut, tears streaming down over his throbbing left cheek as his muffled pleas were left unnoticed by his attacker. Every kick jolted his aching body and all he could do was pray that it all stopped. 

And it did indeed stop.

 His bully went flying across the bathroom, slamming into the trash can. There was a terrified expression on the boy’s face as he scrambled away from the scene, cradling his arm and muttering apologies. 

Watching his bully disappear out of the doorway, Taj finally marvelled at his savior. A student around his age loomed over him, concern painted clearly across his face. The boy had the most stunning deep green eyes that stared right into his broken soul. It took Taj a second to get a grip on his life and realize that the dark haired boy was actually talking to him. 

“Are you okay? I’m glad I got here in time,” the boy asked sweetly, far too sweet for a guy that just beat up the school’s most notorious bully. 

Taj nodded, ignoring the swell of pain that came with it. 

“Good. Let’s get you to the nurse’s office! I’m sure she can help.” The stranger bent down, gently grabbing Taj’s arm. “Can you stand?”

“Y-yeah… I think so,” Taj shakily replied, wiping away the blood that was now dripping out of his nose. He was helped to his feet, but the older boy’s comforting grasp remained unwavering as he was ushered down the halls of the school. 

Luckily for Taj no one was around to see his pathetic form as the two ventured towards the nurse’s wing. 

“Why did you help me?” Taj dared to ask in a hushed tone. 

The boy smiled back, a dazzling grin. “You know, there comes a time when you can’t stand these stupid injustices anymore and this may as well have been one of those times.” 

Eventually, the duo reached their destination and were greeted by the kind hearted old nurse that Taj now knew personally even though he had only been in high school for 4 months. The injured student was sent into her examination room. 

Taj caught the good samaritan on his way out, knowing that his job was done, but he still paused before making his exit, calling from outside the office, “Hey!!” 

The younger turned back, a questioning look on his face, yet still listening intently. 

“My name’s Chris, by the way. What’s yours?” 

No one had ever bothered to ask for Taj’s name before until now. But there was a first time for everything after all. 

“Taj.” He smiled for the first time in weeks and a warm, fuzzy feeling settled in his heart. “My name is Taj.”

Nodding in return, Chris beamed back, his green eyes exuding a sense of happiness. “I hope to see you around, Taj!” Waving goodbye, the boy disappeared down the hallway. 

As the lovely nurse came back with an ice pack, Taj’s mind was elsewhere. Still dwelling on the past events he wondered what would become of his future. Chris’s presence seemed like a light in the dark. Only there for a moment but it left a long lasting impact. It was like fate had decided to send him an angel in human form in the time of his greatest need. Taj was being a bit dramatic but he made up his mind to get to know the boy better. 

Maybe everything would be alright after all? 

───────  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ♠ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───────

As it turned out, Chris also didn’t have any friends. 

For someone so smart and kind it didn’t quite make any sense to Taj. The boy was eager to answer questions in class but wouldn’t talk to anyone outside of the classrooms- A straight “A” student that was viewed and labelled as weird by everyone around him. Out of every single person in the whole entire school, this boy had chosen Taj to be his first and only friend. The timid, antisocial crybaby. What did Chris even see in him? 

The two sat at their own isolated table in the cafeteria where Chris was immersed deep in the storyline of a book, relaying every minor detail to his enthralled listener. Many would find something like this boring, but Taj couldn’t be happier. 

“So they found a single piece of hair at the scene of the crime!” Chris chided, “And from that they were able to narrow down the suspects to two people!” 

“Was that enough evidence to finally pin the murder on someone?” asked Taj, brimming with curiosity as he shoveled another spoonful of rice into his mouth. 

“Nah, unfortunately they feel the need to find some more information before blaming one of the two…” Chris sighed in exasperation, resting his elbow on the table. 

“Hey, are you going to eat your lunch or starve to death by 3?” Taj worried, pushing his friend’s lunch tray closer towards him. “You know the art teacher doesn’t allow snacks. You got kicked out of her class yesterday!”

Finally lifting his eyes from the pages of his novel, the elder groaned in defeat, shoving his story into his backpack. “Alas, you are right. I forgot about yesterday.”

“And the day before that… And Thursday last week too!” Taj added, laughing at the grimace on the latter’s face. 

Chris was the only one that made him laugh, the only one that made him smile. He was still and would likely forever be healing from Aria’s death, but Chris made him forget about the pain, even if it was only for a moment. 

───────  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ♠ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───────

The Cedarbrooke Department of Safety was a little less intimidating with Chris by his side. 

Chris had always been a protector and he wanted to take this part of him to the next level, settling on training to be an officer after graduation. Taj never really had a solid idea of what he wanted to do with his life after high school and joining Chris on his first introductory training course was not what he originally intended to do, yet here he was as the drill sergeant ran through a “fun obstacle course.” 

“I know it is everyone’s first day here, but I want to see what you’re made of. Do you think you have what it takes to join our department?” the instructor yelled at the determined bunch of possible future recruits. “Now get your butts down to the other end of the course and clock your times upon arrival! Get going!”

At the blare of the horn the bunch began to scramble to the first obstacle as Chris and Taj trailed behind. 

Exactly 4 minutes and 57 seconds later they made it to the finish line covered in mud, sweat, and newly forming bruises. Not long after the stocky drill sergeant blew a whistle. “Everyone who made it to the end before the 5 minute mark, congratulations. We will take you for the next step of training. The rest of you! Keep practicing for next month!” 

The two friends stared at one another in shock, panting in exhaustion before Chris broke out in a contagious grin which Taj returned quite happily. 

“We did it, Taj! We’re going to be police officers!” 

The sergeant, who had obviously overheard the exclamation cleared his throat, yelling over all the celebrations and sadness to catch the crowd’s attention, “If you have been accepted into our program, this does not mean you are safe! You must continue to prove yourselves worthy of your places. And know that you can and will still be swiftly removed from the department if you do not meet our standards.” 

“Oh bloody hell…” Chris murmured, this time quietly enough that the sergeant couldn’t catch it. 

“Language, Chris!” Taj hissed back, elbowing the other with enough force to get a reaction out of him. “It’s only our first day and we are already on the verge of being rejected…”

Chris smiled in turn, wiping the beads of sweat off his forehead. “Yeah, but it also gives us plenty of room to grow, am I right?” 

“That’s true I guess.” 

Chris noticed the downcast expression on his friend’s face and the concern quickly set in. “Hey, are you good, man?” 

“Yeah… I guess I’m just a bit worried.” The younger boy sighed, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “What if I get kicked out and you-”

“Taj.” Chris comforted him, grabbing his hands and squeezing them reassuringly. “We’re in this together, remember?” 

Yes. They were going to make this journey together. Taj knew it, yet a nagging feeling ever lingering in the back of his mind just wouldn’t leave. Chris stood a chance in the rigorous program. Taj did not. 

So he lied again. 

“Yeah, you’re right.” 

Chris nodded in acknowledgment before his gaze turned to the trail of new recruits trailing back towards the department’s parking lot. “Good. I think we should probably get going then! See you tomorrow?” 

“See you tomorrow.” 

Taj watched as Chris sprinted after the group, a slight spring in his step. Then he was left alone with his thoughts. 

Taj knew he was neither the world's strongest nor the smartest. But he was a hard worker and he would continue to be if that was what it meant to keep up. He would do whatever it took to stay in the program. Whatever it took to stay with Chris. Because he knew that he couldn’t bear to lose anyone close to him ever again. 

───────  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ♠ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───────

Taj found himself in the hallway of the department, hands shaking from the nerves as he and Chris stood outside the dreaded door. They had only been recruits for six months and they were being called to the head chief’s office?!

Taj’s mind was racing a million miles an hour as he scanned for any possible reason behind this event. He was passing all his classes, staying up till 2 AM every night to study. He was progressively improving in the fitness aspects of the program and would go on hour long runs every morning to build his stamina. He stayed out of trouble and he was always respectful, so why the heck was he standing outside of Chief Dalton’s office? 

Taj noticed the tiny details, the way Chris would swallow twice as frequently as usual and the swaying motion of his weight shifting from foot to foot. It was clear that the boy was just as nervous as himself. 

“Chris!” Taj hissed at his friend. 

“Hm?”

“Are you going to get the door?”

“Uh… no. Are you?” 

Taj sighed in exasperation. “Nah, I’m too scared of what he has to say about us.” 

Suddenly, a flash of purple zoomed past them, skidding to a halt. A young girl, bright purple hair and an even brighter smile waved at the two. “What’s up? Are you chaps here to see the boss too?” 

Now Chris had always been a genius, so when it came to the academic portion of the department’s training program he obviously aced it. Yet still he was the second best in the entire class… and that was because of Zelene. 

Taj wondered how it was possible to be so smart, so strong, so confident… so beautiful all at once. 

And yet here Zelene was barging right into Chief Dalton’s office as the two shocked boys stood plastered against the hallway walls. 

“Hello, Miss Robertson! Welcome,” Dalton greeted cheerfully before spotting the wallflowers outside the door frame. “Oh, boys! Come on in and join us!” 

Chris and Taj hesitantly shuffled into the room, saluting their superior on the way inside as they huddled together on the left side wall. 

“You know, I have been tracking your progress throughout these past couple of months…” Dalton began much to the boy’s horror, but he continued on, “And I have seen some incredible progress! All I can see are improving scores in all areas of expertise. I am very pleased.”

Ze stood, hands on her hips in quite the confident stance as she glanced towards the others. Taj translated this as “are we just here to listen to this old man lecture us for an hour?”

“Oh, you are probably wondering why I brought you three here in the first place!” Dalton laughed before clearing his throat. He folded his hands and rested them on the desk, gazing around the room like a proud father before he continued. 

“I want to save each of you a spot on our team as soon as you are finished with your training. Welcome to the Cedarbrooke Heights Department of Safety.” 

Taj stood absolutely dumbfounded, trying to stop his jaw from dropping straight to the floor. Regaining his composure, he glanced towards Chris who was now saluting the chief. 

“Sir, thank you so much for this opportunity,” Chris expressed his gratitude respectfully, but Dalton brushed it off. 

“No need for formalities, Gibbs. You can just call me Dalton!” 

“Yes, of course, sir- uh, Chief Dalton!” 

On the other hand, Zelene was doing some sort of victory celebration in the corner of the office as she also thanked the chief. “We won’t let you down!” 

Dalton smiled warmly at the three new recruits. “I know you won’t. I see so much potential in you all and I think that you should keep training to gain an even higher rank at this department. We don’t have any detectives here in Cedarbrooke and I do think it might be helpful to begin training some. So we have a forensics program in the making and a higher level technology class and-”

“YES!!!” Zelene interrupted, practically leaping across the room, giving even Dalton himself a heart attack. “I mean, yes! I would absolutely love to take both programs if that is okay with you?” 

“Of course it is, Miss Robertson! I’ll let the program head know about your great interest.” 

“Uh, would it be possible for us to join too?” Chris quietly spoke up, motioning to Taj beside him. 

Dalton grinned back at the twosome, as he nodded his head, “I don’t see why not! Three soon-to-be detectives are on the way!” 

The room fell into a comfortable silence, broken only by the sound of the clock ticking as time flew by. Dalton checked his watch before finally returning to the trio with an answer. “I don’t want to keep you waiting since I know you have other places to be, but I want to congratulate you one more time on your success. You are dismissed!” 

Zelene spun on her heel, waving at the chief as she ambled down the hallway. She stopped to call back into the office, “Thanks again, chief!” 

Exchanging nods of appreciation with the older man, the two companions also made their leave, which was abruptly interrupted. 

“Oh, and boys?” 

Taj and Chris turned back to the chief, expectantly waiting for either a reply or a reprimand. 

Instead, the chief simply smiled back fondly. “Keep up the amazing work. You are both capable of great things.” 

“Yes sir!” Chris beamed proudly. “Have a good day sir!” 

“Now get going!” Dalton playfully shooed the two away, his loud laugh echoing around the room. “You don’t want to be late for the tactical conditioning session!” 

The boys stumbled out the front doors of the department, gripping onto each other like their lives depended on it as they finally celebrated their accomplishments. 

“We did it, Taj! We’re actual cops now!!” Chris exclaimed, eyes sparkling with excitement. He bounced up and down, hugging his best friend. 

Taj was still slightly shaken from the previous events, unable to comprehend what just happened. He had achieved his dreams. He and Chris could share the joy of their job and shoot for even higher goals now. They could enjoy the joyous occasion together. 

And so Taj returned the embrace and wished that the moment could last forever. 

───────  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ♠ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───────

Life was pretty good, Taj had to admit. 

But there were still times in which he needed to take a breather from the constant bustle of activity every single day. And where did he go to take this break? 

The forest out the back of the department brought Taj peace and tranquility. 

It became one of his favorite ways to spend his afternoons. Once everyone began trailing out of the department, Taj would instead grab his guitar case from the car, swing it over his shoulder, and begin his trek through the forest towards his favorite tree. It was easily climbable and overlooked a small lake that was truly beautiful when the rays of sunlight peeked through the overhead branches, dancing over the ripples in the water. 

Taj would settle himself on one of the tree’s branches and play his favorite tune, the same one that Aria had helped him write before she passed. He would close his eyes and simply listen as the music floated around the forest, combined with the chirping of the birds and the rustling of leaves in the breeze. With a final strum, he waited for the sound to drift out, echoing around him and the calming silence to replace the song. 

But instead of the usual silence, Taj heard applause. 

A listener had perched herself on one of the roots of his tree, gazing up at the musician with a proud smile. 

“That was amazing! I didn’t know you could play the guitar!” Zelene called from where she sat below the boy. 

Now embarrassed by the girl’s sudden appearance, Taj stuttered back a response. “Oh. Uh- thank you? I wrote it with some help…” 

Instead of replying, the purple haired officer leapt to her feet and began to climb the tree. Grabbing onto one branch at a time, she pulled herself up as if it were just another day at the agility course. And soon she took up a spot on the branch above Taj as the bewildered boy clutched his guitar close to his chest, eyes blown wide in surprise. 

“So…” Zelene finally broke the awkward silence, “What other songs can you play?” 

Taj was slightly taken aback by the question. “Well… I haven’t really practiced anything new in a while…” He really had no motivation to make new music lately. Taj felt like he was drowning in work and extra long shifts at the department and whenever he got home all he really wanted to do was sleep. Was it depression? Nah. He truly enjoyed his job, it was just energy draining. Could it be something else? Possibly. Yet now was not the time to check for a diagnosis to all those exhausting days and sleepless nights. 

Ze began to laugh, addictive high pitched giggles and Taj couldn’t help himself from grinning like an absolute idiot. 

“I’m so sorry! I’m so inexperienced in anything musical. I just assumed that talented folks just made stuff up on the spot, but now that I think of it, that’s totally ridiculous!” 

“Oh!” Taj gasped, now understanding what message the girl had been trying to convey. “Well, it isn’t impossible to do! I could try- if you want of course…” His voice trailed off as his eagerness shifted into awkwardness once more. 

“Would you really?!” Ze instantaneously leapt to the same branch that Taj had been perched on as her expression brimmed with elation and curiosity. 

Taj turned his attention towards his guitar, setting one hand on the fretboard and the other over the strings. He didn’t know what he was doing, he just strummed, switching from chord to chord in a mesmerizing pattern and entrusted the rest of the effort up to fate. And he made his first new song in years. 

Zelene remained at his side, eyes closed and humming a tune as her brilliant violet hair blew like waves in the wind. She rocked from side to side in turn with the beat that the boy had planned out, immersed in the music. 

And at that moment Taj knew that he was completely, hopelessly in love. 

───────  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ♠ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───────

That summer Asher, Neall, and Matthew walked straight into Taj’s life quite literally. 

Well… it was more like Taj walked into them. He had been running down the halls of the department, stacks of folders in his arms covering his eyes and without notice he smashed right into a person. 

“Woah! I’m so sorry, man! Are you okay?” a blonde haired guy panicked over Taj’s crumpled form. Taj nodded back and the boy began to scoop up the fallen papers. 

Another stranger knelt beside them and also helped collect a blue folder. “Let me help you out with that.”

Taj noted that the pair looked like stark opposites. One bright and sunny, the other dark and calm. Yet it was obvious that they were friends. 

That was when Chris appeared from his office followed by yet another boy, this time with messy silver hair but very handsome, cat-like features. 

“Well, I guess you two beat me to it!” Chris laughed as he motioned towards his fellow bewildered officer. “Asher and Neall, meet Taj! And Taj, meet Asher and Neall!” 

The cheerful looking boy waved enthusiastically back while the latter nodded in greeting. 

“It’s nice to meet you!” Taj politely answered. “I’ve heard a lot about you all from Chris. He really loves you guys!” 

Neall turned towards the targeted cop with a judging look and the man shrugged his shoulders in response. “Yeah, I’ve known these guys for a while now and I wanted to introduce you all. Asher here just finished finals, so I figured that this would be the perfect time to finally meet.” 

The trio began an animated conversation that Taj felt rather left out of, so he figured he’d meander towards the windows. It was raining pretty hard outside which was unusual for the summer months, but Taj didn’t mind. 

“Do you like the rain?”

Startled, Taj whipped around to face the mysterious unnamed man who had been hanging beside Chris for the entire time but had conveniently just now decided to walk over to the window. 

“Uh-yeah! I do.”

The stranger nodded, his fluffy silver hair bouncing with every turn of his head. “I do too.” 

Taj smiled back and focused on the raindrops racing with each other to get to the window sill first. But the other boy spoke again. 

“I think that the rain has many contrasting aspects. It is both thrilling when paired with a thunderstorm or calming when it drizzles against the glass. It makes you feel refreshed when you are outside and cozy when indoors… I guess it just depends on how you look at it.” 

“Yeah, I guess so…” Taj chuckled at the sudden retrospective conversation. 

“My name’s Matthew by the way.” 

“I’m Taj.”

Matthew smiled, so soft and comforting that it secretly made Taj just want to melt into him. 

“Nice to meet you Taj.”

The lovely moment was interrupted as Asher bounded towards the two, grabbing them by the wrist and pulling them out the door into the very weather that they had been observing earlier. “Let’s go!! I’m kidnapping you and taking you to the Spice Garden!” 

“That’s where Neall works,” quipped Matthew much to the younger boy’s appreciation. 

Without further notice the duo were thrown into the back of Chris’ car as Asher stole the passenger seat, turning around with a wide grin. “Buckle up people! This is gonna be a wild ride!” 

A whir sounded beside Taj as his window was rolled down by the driver himself and torrents of rain hit his face. It seemed as though the rest of the crew was in the same predicament but while the two at the front were greatly enjoying it, Matthew looked like a drenched cat. 

Chris switched on the music station and country music blasted through the speakers. Asher of course had to join in, singing totally off-key but nailing all the lyrics as if he had done this a hundred times over and Matthew’s constant nagging made Taj laugh until his stomach ached. 

“You know what?” Asher yelled over the stereo, “I think we would make one heck of a friend group!” 

And Taj had a feeling they would get along just fine. 

───────  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ♠ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───────

It had been a regular Saturday morning and Taj had woken up early to eat breakfast before work. He sat on his old couch, scooping spoonfuls of cheerios into his mouth as he focused on his favorite news channel on the television. 

Nothing ever happened in Cedarbrooke Heights. Maybe a small music festival or a new shop opening in the town square but never something as big as what happened that day. 

“A man was discovered dead at 3:04 AM after he was bitten by a snake in his car. This wasn’t just any snake, but a black mamba which is native to Africa. How the venomous creature made it all the way to Cedarbrooke is yet to be investigated. Was this just a freak accident or was someone looming in the shadows behind this scene?” 

Taj had forgotten all about his bowl of cereal as he was now enthralled in the image on the screen, the reflective yellow tape surrounding a seemingly normal vehicle. 

All of a sudden his phone began to buzz as the chief called him to the office. 

Within the next couple of minutes, Taj had arrived at the department and it was nothing like he had expected. Hoards of reporters and scared families had flocked to the front doors, screaming questions and protests at the few officers attempting to calm them down. 

Taj snuck behind the uproar to the back entrance which was also conveniently locked. Luckily, Chris was inside and had spotted his friend through the window. 

“You know what happened too?” Chris asked, letting his friend through the door before making sure it was securely shut. 

“Yeah, heard it on the news.” Taj scanned the waiting room which was populated by fellow panicking cops. Dalton was positioned in the corner where he motioned to the duo over the chaos, ushering them into his personal workroom. 

Unexpectedly, Zelene was already seated in the corner. Taj noticed that her brows were furrowed in concern and her usual bright smile was replaced by a grave expression, mimicking the severity of the situation. 

“I assume everyone knows what happened this morning?” Dalton stated, pulling up two more chairs. He was met with solemn nods. “So after further investigation our team found that someone had indeed been behind the murder of the man.”

The chief paused for a brief moment, clacking away on his keyboard. He eventually turned the computer around to show the trio a video. 

The footage was dark and glitchy but it was obvious what was happening in the scene. A cloaked figure was fiddling with the lock of the car, a cardboard box laying on the cement by his feet. The video flickered a couple minutes into the future where the mysterious individual stared directly into the camera. Only his mouth was visible from the shadows of his hood but his expression made the entire group shudder. Pure maniacal joy radiated from the wide grin on the man’s face. He was proud of his crime. And he wanted them all to see it. 

The footage was cut out then, replaced by a fuzzy black screen. Dalton slid his laptop back around, looking more stressed than normal as he rubbed his temples, eyes screwed shut. 

“You three… I really and truly hate to have to ask you this,” he began, gazing from one cop to the next, “But know that you can refuse and I will absolutely respect your decision. You lot are some of the most promising young recruits on our team and now with someone as dangerous as this killer running around the town we will need to put together a group to stop him.”

“Zelene Robertson.” Chief Dalton motioned to the young woman who was caught off guard, eyes wide in shock. “You are one of the most advanced officers when it comes to using technology. We will need all the help we can get when it comes to studying the security cameras surrounding the scenes and tracking down the killer.” 

“Taj Meyers, you are excelling in all aspects of forensics and we will need that expertise on the field after the team has secured the scenes. We’ll search for any evidence possible from the crimes, studying every single detail.” 

Dalton finally turned to his final subject who was sitting expectantly across from him. “And Chris… Every solid taskforce will need a leader. I know you are hard working, reliable, and loyal– all the properties of a great leader. You are well rounded in all the programs you have taken here at our department and I believe that there is no one else that would be better suited for this title as you.” 

Chris averted his gaze towards his hands as he fiddled with his shirt buttons, likely overwhelmed by the pressure of the situation. 

Dalton cleared his throat once more before he continued, “I know this is a lot to process right now, but I urgently need to assemble a taskforce as soon as possible. It will be a lot of work, likely exhausting, and possibly dangerous. So if you refuse, I understand but-”

“I’ll do it.” 

Ze abruptly stood up from her chair as the metal screeched across the floor.

“Are you sure-”

“I am willing to join your taskforce, sir,” the girl repeated, glowing with pride. 

Her defiance sparked something within Taj. 

“Then, I’ll join too.”

Taj didn’t quite process what words had just come out of his own mouth until he registered the wide-eyed stares from the rest of the room. 

“If Ze is recruiting herself, then so am I!” he announced, much to the girl’s great joy. “I won’t let her do this alone!” 

Chris remained quiet, eyes still fixated on the floor. Taj knew the boy well enough by now to tell that he was stuck in his head at the moment, so he made his way across the room and grabbed the older boy’s hand with a reassuring squeeze. 

“Christopher,” Dalton began, “You have the biggest responsibility of them all. If you don’t feel ready for the job then I can surely find someone else too, I promise.” 

The officer’s glazed green eyes locked with Taj’s own as he attempted to search the latter for any emotion. Taj nodded back and that was enough motivation to see a visible change in Chris’ demeanor. 

“Thank you for the opportunity, Chief Dalton.” The boy smiled at his superior as everyone remained waiting with bated breath. “I will take the job.” 

Zelene roared in celebration, tackling the officers in a rib-crushing embrace much to their surprise. “I knew you’d say yes, Chris!” she rejoiced. “Or shall I say, Mr. Taskforce Leader?” 

The newly appointed leader chuckled at the joke, returning the hug. “Nah, Chris is fine!” 

Dalton beamed at the trio, pleased with his newly created group. Closing his computer, he rose to his feet heading towards the door. “Well, I guess I have something to tell the eagerly awaiting crowds out there!” he announced, “Black Mamba killer taskforce has been assembled and is ready for action. You three will make one hell of a team.” 

And with that, the chief made his exit, leaving the trio behind. 

Clearing his throat, Taj broke the silence, “So now what?” 

“Yeah, Officer Gibbs, now what?” Zelene chided in, glaring expectantly at their leader. 

Chris still didn’t feel ready for his new role, but he did know exactly what they needed to do. “We wait until he strikes again and head to the scene,” Chris began, “We find all the evidence that we can… Inspecting footage, taking samples, anything that you guys deem necessary to stop him. We keep a collection of any information found and try to track victims, location, and patterns and we put an end to this before he can cause too much chaos.” 

“Sounds like a plan!” Zelene agreed. She began gathering her belongings and Taj felt compelled to follow suit. “See you guys tomorrow, if not earlier!”

Chris scoffed at the girl’s statement. “Let’s hope that second option is not the case…” 

“I don’t believe someone like the murderer would attack two consecutive nights in a row,” Taj hypothesized, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “From what I heard, the scene was meticulously clean as if he had planned everything in advance.” 

Chris and Zelene listened intently without interruption which Taj greatly appreciated. So he continued to ramble on. “I suspect it may take between 3 days and a week to prepare and depending on how extravagant he wants to be… aka. shipping in a venomous snake from sub-Saharan Africa… it could take even longer than that.” 

Nodding in understanding, Chris smiled back at his team. “That should give us ample time to prepare then. Why don’t we meet up tomorrow? If we’re gonna be stuck in this for the long run, we might as well get to know each other a bit better?” 

“Agreed!” Ze gave a thumbs up before checking the time and rushing out the door. “I need to go! See you losers later!!” 

With that, she disappeared down the hallway towards the sound of cheers from outside the department. Chris waved goodbye to his friend, trailing behind the departed girl and Taj was left alone. 

Taj knew this was the beginning of a new era of the group. He didn’t quite understand what he was getting himself into, but he did acknowledge that there would be many harsh days to come. 

───────  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ♠ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───────

Taj knew that life had its ups and downs but if that was the case, then he was really at an all time low.

Taj was generally pretty decent at the tactical conditioning programs and his scores improved over time until his new average for the whole course became only 3 and a half minutes. 

It wasn’t until he was part of the taskforce for only a month that he began to feel his energy slowly draining. He would be out of breath and exhausted by the end of the obstacles, sometimes even needing to run to the bathroom to throw up everything he couldn’t keep down in his stomach. And his personal records suffered too until they began looking far from reach…

“4 minutes and 3 seconds, Meyers.” The drill sergeant shook his head in disappointment. “You better pick up your training or you’ll end up being demoted.” 

“Yes sir, I understand.”

Even though Taj knew that Chief Dalton would never demote him even in a situation such as this, he couldn’t bear to be a burden to his team. He couldn’t let them down. He had to pull his life together. 

Deep down, Taj knew that something was in fact wrong; however, there was no way that he would ever tell a soul about his feelings. If he could keep it all to himself there was no need to bother anyone else with his own problems. Maybe if Aria was still alive he would let her know… but she wasn’t. So he would have to deal with it alone. 

And so Taj found himself at the doctor’s office, waiting nervously on the examination table as he fidgeted with the disposable paper sheet that covered where he sat. 

A few minutes later, a hoard of about 3 doctors entered the room with a clipboard. Taj attempted to scan their expressions but they were doing an awfully good job of hiding any emotion from him. 

“Mr. Meyers, we have the results in,” the head doctor stated. But the moment of hesitation signalled that something bad would come after. 

Taj inhaled a shaky breath as he awaited the medical staff’s next sentence. 

“Unfortunately, we found signs of a fast spreading cancer.” 

Oh.

“So what are the symptoms?” Taj tried to ask calmly, ignoring the way his voice slightly cracked. 

The staff seemed relieved that the news didn’t hit their patient that hard. They were wrong. 

“Fatigue and the swelling of the lymph nodes are two of the main symptoms,” the man explained. “You may also see signs of shortness of breath and fever.” 

“To what extent you have the disease, we don’t know yet. So we will need to send you to specialists for further testing,” the doctor continued, fiddling with his clipboard as he handed a piece of paper to Taj. “Do you have any family or friends that you can ask to accompany you to treatments?” 

Yes… but no… his grandparents didn’t need to deal with something this grave after Aria. And if he told Chris, the boy might let him off work right in the middle of the Mamba case. 

“Yeah, I do,” Taj lied, faking a smile. 

“Good.” The doctor nodded back, falling for the trap. “We can help you find a slot for another check up and then we can discuss further treatment options!” 

The news still hadn’t sunk in and Taj was left in denial. But he couldn’t crumple just yet. After all, life couldn’t get much worse than this… right? 

───────  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ♠ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───────

6 months. 

180 days. 

4,320 hours left to live.

And here Taj was wasting time on his apartment floor. 

The cancer was more aggressive than anyone had originally expected. It had spread beyond simply his lymph nodes to his lungs and liver. 

It was unimaginable… Having a disease literally eating you alive day by day. 

He had no energy anymore. He had called in sick to work the past week, telling Chris and Zelene to stay away in case he spread it onto them too which was obviously a lie. 

Taj couldn’t even bear to look at himself in the mirror anymore. He couldn’t recognize himself, pale and sickly. He had lost his appetite and was losing weight fast. 

Taj didn’t see a point in undergoing extensive treatments every single day when he only had 180 left to live. Why delay the inevitable after all? So instead, Taj opted for pills that would ease his pain, though only temporarily. 

He was dying. 

Suddenly life wasn’t about living anymore, rather surviving. But what was he even living for at this point?

His apartment was a cluttered mess. Empty pill bottles littered the counters and unwashed clothes piled up on his bed. He watched moon beams illuminate dust particles that drifted through the air. Taj was drowning in his thoughts, no energy to move a muscle, no tears left to cry. And no one was coming to save him. 

That was until his doorbell rang at 11:15 PM that lonely night, jolting him from his thoughts. 

Initially, Taj figured that he would ignore it but the curiosity was consuming him. With the second ring, he dragged himself up off of the floor and shuffled towards the front door. 

Standing on the front porch was Asher, a small bundle in his arms and a look of deep concern on his face. The unexpected visitor didn’t mutter a word and instead scanned the dishevelled man barely alive inside his home. 

Asher silently entered the apartment, dropping off the package on the table. He approached Taj once more. Hazel eyes met dull blue and for a split second Taj wavered. 

Then Asher hugged him. 

The smaller boy didn’t move at first. But the embrace was so comforting that he collapsed into it, dropping his tough act as tears streamed down his cheeks. A choked sob finally made its way out of his throat. He let out all the feelings, all the pain, all the fear, all the denial… he was safe in Asher’s arms and there he would stay. 

Taj eventually managed to calm down once he had stained Asher’s sweater with tears, but the older boy didn’t seem to mind. He simply watched his distraught friend with a studying eye and a consoling smile. 

“Taj… why didn’t you tell us you were so sick?” Asher asked, voice strained from stress. 

“I-I didn’t want you to worry…” Taj cried, his throat raw and aching. If only they knew that this was more than just a regular illness. 

Sighing, the elder stood up, gathering his bundle from the front door. He scanned his surroundings, probably shocked at the state of the apartment, however he remained rather collected as he focused on Taj once more. 

“Let’s get you somewhere more comfy,” Ash stated, offering his hand. 

Taj was absolutely drained, and luckily Asher seemed to understand, scooping up the small shaken form into his arms as he stumbled into the living room. Taj was laid onto the dusty old couch and a warm bowl of soup was shoved into his hands. 

“Broccoli cheddar,” the blonde answered his unspoken question, with a bright smile. “I thought you might like something to eat.” 

The older boy remained until the first spoonful of food was scarfed down before he vanished into the bedroom. He continued to move in and out of the rooms, organizing Taj’s home so the sick man wouldn’t have to himself. 

Taj downed the entire bowl of soup and was pleasantly full, something he hadn’t felt in weeks. Although exhausted, he was content and honestly relieved that someone in this cruel world truly cared for him. 

It didn’t take long for Asher to finish his job, melting into the couch beside his companion. From the way he settled into the cushions, Taj knew a conversation was coming. 

Ash had a grave expression on his face, his eyes unreadable. “How long have you been sick for?” he questioned patiently. “We’ve all been deathly worried, you know? Chris was literally going up a wall he couldn’t even focus at work without you.”

“Um…” Taj thought for a moment, “I think it's been about 2 weeks.” 

Ash pulled an object from his hoodie pockets, holding it in sight. Taj’s gaze finally focused on the item and his breath hitched in panic. 

The empty bottle of heavy duty pain killers that he had left on the bathroom counter was now in Asher’s hand, awaiting an explanation. 

Taj attempted to calm down his rapidly beating heart as he stuttered out a fake reply. “I-uh have some joint pain.” 

“Joint pain, huh?” The interrogator paused for a moment. “You would never be prescribed something this strong with mild joint pain.” 

Busted. 

“It has just been acting up again after I stopped exercising at the department. Being sick, I just haven’t been up to working out I guess…” 

Asher stood unwavering. His stare wasn’t stern or judgmental, rather it was supportive and hopeful. 

“Taj. Be honest. Please.” 

Honest. 

Taj was a professional liar at this point. It was how he had managed to survive this long. Telling the truth was a foreign idea to him. So why was he faltering? 

“I…” 

He had to lie. There was no other choice. But Asher’s presence made him think otherwise. 

His heart rate was spiking, hands sweating, tears threatening to spill over for the second time that night. Taj was just plain scared. And there was nothing that he wanted more than comfort. And the one person who could provide him with everything that he needed was waiting right in front of him. 

“I have stage four cancer.” 

And that was Taj’s breaking point. 

He shrunk in on himself, the blood roared in his ears and the edge of his vision was going black. He didn’t remember how to breathe. 

He couldn’t breathe. 

And then Asher’s arms were around him again and he was encircled in a tight, unwavering grip. It grounded him. 

“It’s okay, I’m here now,” Asher comforted, rubbing the boy’s back in small circles. “Just focus on breathing.” 

And Taj did. Through all the noise in his head he concentrated on Asher. 

The sound of his own pounding heartbeat was replaced by the soft breathing of his friend above him. It took another ten minutes, but his sobs had finally settled into mere hiccups. 

Noticing that the boy had calmed down, Asher once again carried him tenderly to the bed, covering him with a warm blanket before stepping out. 

From the faint muttering in the living room, it was clear that Asher was making a phone call. The sound of his slowly approaching footsteps on the creaky wooden floors signalled that he had finished. 

The blonde peered through the door frame into the room. His eyes were red and glossy as if he had been crying earlier. “Hey Taj. I am going to skip classes tomorrow to stay here with you,” he announced in a whisper. 

“You didn’t need to do that.”

“I know.” Asher smiled back. “But I want to.” 

The visitor turned to leave, but Taj called after him, ignoring the way his voice cracked in desperation. Asher once again faced the latter. 

“Ash. Thank you.” 

“Of course. You know we would do anything for you Taj without hesitation. Now I’ll be out on the couch for the rest of the night, so holler if you need anything and I mean anything at all.” 

Taj nodded weakly in return and the elder was satisfied with the response, closing over the door before retreating to the living room once again. 

Taj’s eyelids felt heavy as they fluttered shut, content at last. He had someone there for him when he truly needed them. 

And for the first time in years, Taj knew that he was finally understood.

───────  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ♠ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───────

With Asher watching over him, Taj recovered within the next few days. 

Asher had asked for all the details the next morning which Taj reluctantly provided him with: medical notes, test results, medications. And instead of freaking out, the older man took it all rather calmly. 

It became their little secret. Asher had promised not to tell anyone else, not even Chris, but in turn Taj had to let the boy take care of him. This meant calling into the university sick every now and then to help with a spiked fever or to drive the boy to his numerous check up appointments or pain killer refills. 

Yet, Taj would never complain. He liked the fact that someone finally knew his secrets. It gave him a person to confide in. He could tell Asher anything and he knew that the boy, though extremely extroverted, would always pause to listen. 

They had told a frantic Chris the following week that Taj had gotten a really bad case of the flu but he was still recovering. Luckily for them, the officer had taken it to heart, sending in pleas to the chief to let his fellow taskforce member out of the intensive tactical conditioning programs, which of course the Chief agreed to. 

Taj was still able to head out to the forest after work to play his guitar and Zelene would visit every now and then to listen. Each time she tagged along he felt himself falling deeper and deeper in love. 

They wrote song after song, and as Zelene’s musical knowledge grew, so did Taj’s affection for her. It was a cloudy autumn day when she finally clued in that something wasn’t quite right. 

“Are you okay?” she had randomly questioned, jerking Taj from his trance. 

“Huh?”

“Are you okay?” Ze repeated once again. “It seems like something is bothering you. I know you well enough by now to tell that it isn’t normal for you to be this quiet.”

“Oh, I’m just a bit tired… I couldn’t really sleep last night, but I’m fine.” 

That had been partially honest. He had been struggling to sleep each night as his anxiety and the impending thoughts of death haunted him in the darkness. But was he actually fine?

“Are you sure? There’s nothing you want to talk about?” Zelene asked, cocking her head slightly to the side, her stunning brown eyes full of worry. But Taj didn’t want her to worry. He couldn’t tell her his feelings yet. He had to lie again. 

And Taj has had so much practice that lying had become second nature to him. He could hear a thunderstorm brewing outside. The rain was starting to pelt and the sound of thunder crackled in the distance.

“I’m fine,” he assured, hardening his heart and forcing down the pain. He had done it before, he could do it again.

One day Zelene might become nothing more than a song he plays in the forest… like Aria. 

“I promise.”

───────  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ♠ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───────

Zelene’s hug that Christmas day had both elated Taj but also destroyed him. 

He held her a little longer as if it would be the last time he ever would. And maybe it might be? But for now, he would never know. What he did know, however, was that he truly loved her more than anything in the world. 

But he had to live with a broken heart, understanding that it would be cruel to tell her his thoughts only to leave the world a couple months later. 

So Taj stood there and smiled, hiding away his feelings, hiding his tears. 

With that, the party continued. Neall brought the turkey over to the table, fresh out of the oven and the group gathered around to say a prayer. 

“Thank you Lord for the food and for our wonderful friendship. May it last forever and may we all live long, happy lives!” Zelene finished as Asher and Taj secretly exchanged a sad, knowing glance. 

“Amen!” the friends chorused in response. 

The cutlery clinked and the lighthearted chatter filled the room as the food was passed around. 

Taj simply grinned, observing his carefree joyful friends, wishing that he had more time. But in the limited days he had left, Taj knew that he was going to treasure every single moment spent with them. Every minute until he became nothing more than a memory.

Chapter Text

It happened again on the evening of the New Year’s festival. 

Asher had called with a visibly shaken Joseph to report the newest site of a Mamba attack, the first after Christmas. 

Excited screaming, bright lights, and the smell of cotton candy narrowed down the team’s options to a single event, one of the largest annual celebrations in Cedarbrooke Heights. 

So Chris, Taj, and Zelene found themselves standing cluelessly in the middle of the New Year’s festival surrounded by tents, rides, and vendors. They hadn’t told the chief. Zelene had theorized that if they did, Joseph would fall under suspicion. Chris knew they couldn’t hide their secret for long though. As soon as they found the Mamba their charade would be discovered and they would have to tell him the truth. But for the time being, they would go solo. 

“Where do we check first?” Taj yelled over the shouts of joyful children swarming from the carnival games to the carousel. 

“I say we split up to cover more ground, but have your phone in hand at all times so we can call in case of discoveries,” Chris answered, pulling a map from his pocket. “The majority of the rides are on our left, the games on our right, and the concessions are straight ahead.”

“I’ll take the carnival game tents!” Zelene announced, heading straight into the bustling crowds. 

“I’m fine with either one, Chris,” Taj offered kindly. 

“Thanks. I’ll move to the rollercoaster then if you wouldn’t mind covering the concession area?” 

“Sounds perfect to me!” the boy smiled before parting ways, grabbing his phone out of his coat pocket. 

Chris trudged through the muddied snow towards the amusement park, shivering in the chilly wind. In his opinion, it was too cold to have a festival but many residents thought otherwise. Maybe it was because they grew up in the city, used to the brutal winters. And although Chris was from Cedarbrooke too, unfortunately that wasn’t the case. 

His phone suddenly buzzed and he immediately turned his attention to the device, relieved to see that it was only a message from Neall. 

The Chaos Court 🔥

Neall: Hey, our busy taskforce friends! Just giving you all a heads up that Ash, Joseph, and I will be at the festival tonight too. I know you’ll tell us that it is dangerous, but after hearing that our newest friend had never been to the celebration, we just had to take him. Don’t worry, we’ll stay out of your way. 

Neall: There will be no stopping us. We have made up our minds.

Neall: >:)

Chris sighed as a slight smile made its way to his face. Those boys sure were stubborn. The taskforce was on the scene already, so they would easily be able to stop a possible attack before it happens… right? 

The Chaos Court 🔥

✨Chrispy✨ : Fine, you three be careful though please! 

ASH 🖊️  is typing…

ASH 🖊️ : Roger that, sir! 

Stashing his phone away once again, Chris scanned the festive environment. Carousels, ferris wheels, and multiple roller coasters continued onward as far as he could see, their obnoxiously bright lights hurting his tired eyes. He had a pounding headache, likely due to exhaustion but he ignored the aching pain in his temples and continued to observe the carnival. 

Then something caught his eye. 

A cloaked figure moved swiftly through the crowds, almost invisible in the darkness of the alleys as he disappeared behind a tent. 

Chris stumbled after his target, muttering hurried apologies to the people he accidentally bumped into in his rush. The area behind the tent was empty, not a soul in sight. Chris had lost his trail. 

Pulling out his phone, he dialled Taj who immediately picked up the call. 

“Taj, I might have found a possible suspect, black cloak, hanging around the control tents.” 

“Got it,” the officer confirmed, already on his way. “I’ll grab Ze and be over ASAP. Don’t try anything too risky without us!” 

“Okay, sounds good. Meet by the largest roller coaster and we’ll form a plan from there. I will try to track him down now.” 

Chris promptly hung up, darting down the alley in search of any possible exits but met a dead end. That was when he noticed a large gash cut straight through the material, large enough to fit through. 

Crouching on the snowy ground, Chris glanced inside. The tent was seemingly abandoned, so he crawled through, sliding under a desk directly to the left of the makeshift entrance. 

Someone had noticed the officer’s arrival. 

“Help…” an injured man groaned from the floor where he gazed tearfully at Chris. 

“Is he still here?” Chris hissed back, gun at ready in case of a sudden ambush. 

“No,” the man coughed, covering his mouth with blood-stained hands. “He left a moment ago…” 

Chris leapt out of his hiding spot, collapsing beside the injured worker as he observed the damage. A deep gash in his side, but otherwise no further damage. Chris ripped off his coat, rolling it into a tight ball before pressing it against the man’s wound, causing him to flinch. 

“Hold onto this for me? We need to apply pressure to the injury until help can arrive.” 

“Wait, where are you going?” the guy began to panic, but Chris quickly reassured him. 

“I need to catch your attacker, but I promise I’ll get someone else in here to call the paramedics and wait until they arrive. Did you happen to see which way he went?” 

The man pointed a shaky hand out the real entrance to the tent and Chris followed the line of sight, falling on the very attraction that Taj and Ze were headed straight towards. 

“The roller coaster?”

The man grunted in pain, but managed to nod back. 

“Thank you for your help, sir,” Chris gratefully answered, dashing out the door as he spotted a group of young men nearby who were enjoying their funnel cake. “Hey! I’m an officer of the Cedarbrooke Department of Safety and I need your help. There’s an injured worker in here and I need you to call 911 and stay with him until they arrive on the scene.”  

The boys leapt to their feet, already on the case. Once they were inside with the injured man, Chris knew it was his time to leave. 

Gasps and worried exclamations resounded from the crowds of festival goers as Chris weaved through in a dead sprint. He probably looked absolutely crazy in a short sleeved white shirt in the middle of winter, stained by someone else’s blood, streaking through a carnival but now was not the time to worry about what others thought of him. 

Whatever the case may be though, it was certainly enough to catch Taj and Ze’s attention. 

“Chris?!” Taj sputtered in shock, eyes blown wide. “What the heck happened to you?” 

“I’ll explain later,” the taskforce leader called, continuing his dash to the main attraction, “Just follow me!” 

Wordlessly, the duo eventually caught up, nearly taking the eldest boy out as he skidded to a stop outside the roller coaster's entrance. 

Skyfall was the name of the ride and it was clearly popular as a line snaked its way out of the barricades and into the main walkway. Out of the entire line of people, however, there was not a single cloaked man within view. 

“Do you suppose he took off his disguise?” Zelene queried, already cluing in to Chris’ silence. 

“No. He wouldn’t want to blow his cover.” 

Taj chimed in with a question, “How did you know he was going to show up here exactly?”

“He had already attacked a carnival worker in his tent, so it confirms our suspicions that this guy is dangerous and is almost likely to be the Mamba,” Chris answered with a sigh, glancing around. “The man pointed me towards the ride, but I’m not sure what to do next…” 

The trio stood in silence, not the oblivious kind, but in deep thought. Then Chris heard his name being called from afar. He spun around, searching the crowd to find a familiar trio speeding towards them. 

“Hey!” Asher skidded to a halt in front of the team, the crunch of the snow under his boots abruptly stopping. “Joseph just told us that he saw this exact rollercoaster in his dream, but it looks like you already beat us to it!” 

“Yeah, we’re not sure where the Mamba went though.” Chris groaned in frustration. “We followed him to the scene so he is definitely here. Any other details Jo?”

Joseph solemnly shook his head with a small shrug, but he continued to scan the area. 

“Why would the Mamba randomly decide to ride a rollercoaster though?” Neall queried. 

A gasp sounded from beside Chris as Taj finally spoke up. “Exactly, Neall. Wouldn’t it make more sense to instead of riding the rollercoaster… to mess with the controls?” 

“Oh damn, he’s so right,” Zelene grimmaced, making a beeline straight for the control tent.

Chris addressed the trio directly as he followed his partners onto the scene, calling back, “You three! Can you try to make sure no one else gets on the ride?” 

“Got it!” Asher confirmed, already sprinting towards the long trailing line. 

Chris turned his attention back to the tent entrance where Taj and Ze awaited his order, guns already aimed where the Mamba might be contained.  

With the wave of his hand, Chris barged right through the curtains. 

“Cedarbrooke Police! Drop your weapons and put your hands in the air!” 

The cloaked figure loomed over the control panel, riveting around to face the cops. The shock of the sudden appearance was clear as he took a hesitant step backwards. 

“Drop your weapons! Hands in the air!” Zelene repeated the task force leader’s order, her own handgun focused on the man. 

Chris took a moment to survey the area. Two ride operators were unconscious on the ground, but from the looks of it had no major injuries. The place had been upturned, mugs of hot chocolate shattered on the floor, manuals ripped to shreds and in the middle of it all the man stood with a remote in his hand. 

Suddenly, the figure ripped an item off of his belt, chucking the object straight at Zelene. Luckily, Taj had tackled the girl out of the way and the weapon hit the floor, a white fog emitting directly from it. 

“A smoke bomb?” Chris hissed in annoyance, trying to find the suspect who had taken the moment to find cover. 

Taj began to start violently coughing from somewhere in the mist causing Chris to panic as he searched for the boy, groping around the fog. 

The deeper he ventured the more his eyes and throat burned. He collapsed on the ground, rubbing his irritated eyes to find his vision growing blurry. 

“It’s tear gas!” Ze yelled from somewhere on his left. 

A shadow flew behind Chris and he whipped around. The gas parted where the person had just been. 

Blinking away the tears, he made an attempt to follow the direction of the escaper only to stop in his tracks hearing Ze cackling away in the background. “I got it!! I got the controller!” 

“Whatever you do, don’t press anything!” Taj shouted back between coughing fits. 

“Duh, you moron!” Zelene shot back. “Do you really think I’d do- AGH!” 

Chris gasped at the scream as he heard something or someone hitting the floor. “Ze??” 

The officer stumbled through the smoke towards the sound, making out another shadow. He was prepared to take a swing at it but through his blurry vision he knew he had found the girl. Zelene was clutching onto her head, motioning rapidly to the right. 

“He got it back,” she groaned. “I’m good, just might have a slight concussion…” 

The tearing of fabric garnered the duo's attention as the thick gas suddenly began to thin. Streams of artificial light glistened through the fog from where Taj stood near a slit in the tent walls. And in the center of the room Chris spotted the suspect and the brightly glowing remote. 

This was his chance. 

He sprinted across the floor, leaping over a table as if it were just another obstacle in the department’s agility course, landing a punch right across the villain’s face with a resounding thud. The man fell to the ground and so did the device as it spun away under a nearby table. 

Before Chris could process anything, a sharp object swung inches away from his face. He leapt out of the way, dodging the Mamba who was now clutching a blood-stained knife. Chris reached for his gun but the attacker took quick notice and threw his weapon rather haphazardly at the officer missing once again. 

Now unarmed, the man changed his attention towards the remote. 

“Chris!” Taj screamed, already predicting exactly what was going to happen.

But it was too late. 

The sound of an explosion pierced the air. 

───────  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ♠ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───────

“Get off the ride! It’s too dangerous!” 

Asher and Joseph tried to shuffle their way through the line, leaving multiple angry people behind them. Neall, however, had opted for a much different route and now had the security guards tackling him to the ground after he leapt over all the barricades to the front. 

Fortunately, most of the next riders’ attention was focused on the brawl as Neall’s plan was foiled. It gave the duo just enough time to get to the end of the line.

“Don’t send the next group on!” Asher warned again, trying to get everyone’s attention. 

“Guards, we’ve got another crazy one,” an older woman hissed at the men holding down the older boy behind her. “Just ignore these morons and keep moving along!” 

Asher could tell this wasn’t going to be easy. “Wait! The cops at the Cedarbrooke DPS sent us here!”

“Well, are you an officer? Where’s your badge?” the woman accused, very suspicious now. 

“Uh, no. But I am affiliated with them.” 

Swiftly opening the gate and ushering the next group of riders through, the girl refused to comply. “Well if you can’t show us any proof there is no need to put up with these ridiculous shenanigans.” 

One hesitant young rider, however, stopped in his tracks. “What did your friends say was so dangerous about the ride?” he asked, a hint of fear in his eyes. 

“We don’t quite know, but the Mamba is behind it!” Neall yelled from where he lay face first in the ground, being promptly shushed by the security team. 

“Th-the Mamba?” the man repeated, his voice shaky. 

Joseph nodded in answer and they watched as the young man took a step backwards, inching away from the rollercoaster. “I don’t think I want to go on anymore.” 

“Oh don’t be ridiculous!” the ride operator groaned, grabbing the protestor’s wrist, but he ripped it out of her grasp defiantly. 

“There’s no way I’m risking my life just to get on a stupid rollercoaster.” 

Suddenly another lady somewhere in the middle of the line spoke up too. “The boys aren’t wrong though... I did see a bunch of cops roaming the festival grounds earlier!” 

A hum of agreement drifted through the queue much to the annoyance of the ride operator. 

“Argh! Fine!” she yelled, glaring at Asher. “We'll wait it out. One ride only. If nothing happens then I’m sending the next lot on!” 

The security eventually released Neall and the boy brushed off his snow covered coat, joining the others as they inspected the launch of the coaster. The crowd joined in, holding their breath as the carts went through hills and loops, eventually slowing to a stop right where it began. 

The atmosphere, once tense, was filled with relief as the woman announced that it was officially safe. 

“What’s going on??” Neall hissed to Asher, “Did they manage to catch the Mamba already?” 

“Not sure…” Ash pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes screwed shut. “I still have a suspicion that this is still too risky to ride though.” 

Joseph signed something and Asher promptly translated it. “There was the sound of an explosion in your dream?!” 

Joseph nodded, gaze fixated on the new group of riders who were now situated in the seats. 

“We can’t stop them now!” Ash cried, staring at the security guards. 

“Alright people! Are you ready?” the ride operator announced as cheers erupted from her audience. “We’ll launch the ride after the countdown! 3… 2… -” 

“Wait!!” Neall screamed, and the woman groaned in extreme annoyance, totally done with the trio. 

“Do you want to hear a fun fact?” 

“You’ve got to be kidding me…”

“No, I am certainly not!” Neall grinned confidently, but the red tinge of his ears said otherwise. 

The same hesitant man from earlier chimed in, “Then I want to hear this before we go!” 

“Got it! Did you know that there are more bacteria cells in your body than human cells? The average human is actually 56% bacteria. So if you ever feel alone, just know that you always have your bacteria!” 

The ride operator rolled her eyes, reaching for the button. “Oh brilliant, now-” 

“Wait! I’m not done yet!” Neall exclaimed, pointing dramatically at his head. “Did you know that your brain is constantly eating itself? This is called phagocytosis and it is when cells engulf or eat smaller cells or molecules to dispose of them! This is harmless and-” 

“I’VE HAD ENOUGH!!” the woman roared, marching towards the boy, her face flushed with anger. “If you can’t shut the hell up then I’ll make you! You and your absurd delusions!! Get the hell out of here or else-” 

The sound of an explosion pierced through the air. 

Everyone turned to see a section of the roller coaster tracks blow up in flames, collapsing into the snow with a crack. The line flew into a sudden panic, people screaming and running as far away from the ride as they possibly could. The riders leapt out of their seats, dashing after the crowds, faces painted white with shock. 

And amidst the chaos, the woman stood, flabbergasted, staring at the wreck with her jaw dropped halfway to the floor. 

“Well damn, I guess you three were right,” she finally admitted with a nod of appreciation before leaving the scene. “I’m going to get some funnel cake. I quit this job.” 

Asher watched the fire slowly fizzle out in the snow, smoke still billowing through the wintry air. 

“Are you asking how I learned those awesome random facts?” Neall wondered aloud as he interpreted Joseph’s question. “I dunno… I guess my parents raised a biology nerd?”

“Yeah, that’s for sure!” Asher exclaimed, but paused for a moment, staring down the older boy. “Wait… Didn’t you just translate Joseph’s sign?”

“What? I had some extra time, so I figured I’d try to learn some sign language so we can communicate.” 

A bright grin spread across the mute boy’s face as he signed another message. 

“Yeah, it was challenging, but it’s totally worth it!” Neall smiled with a cheesy wink. 

The panic eventually settled as the trio was ushered out of the destroyed ride and yellow warning tape blocked the entrance. Asher thought that it was surprising how fast everyone had moved on from an event such as that. Maybe it was because there were other fun events at the festival– maybe it was simply because the whole city had grown so used to the Mamba’s shenanigans by now. They had given up all hope on peace and had accepted their reality. There were only a few left who believed that the Mamba could truly be stopped… Asher just hoped that they were alright. 

───────  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ♠ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───────

The fog had faded as did the quake from the explosion. 

It had knocked everyone off of their feet but it had also given Chris an incredible opportunity.

As the Mamba toppled over, Chris had made sure there was no way he was getting back up, tackling the suspect to the ground. Taj knew exactly what was going on and had rushed to the officer’s side, handcuffing the cloaked figure as Zelene pointed her gun against his temple. 

They had caught the Mamba.

Still panting from the action and possibly the aftereffects of the tear gas, Chris ripped the hood off of the man’s head. He finally took a good look at the Mamba and found an unexpected emotion written plainly across his face. 

Not anger, not bloodlust, but fear. 

“Yes, we need a team in here right now for backup,” Taj was calling over his radio. “We caught a suspect that could be the Mamba. Yes, the location is at Central Park on the New Year’s Festival grounds. Roger, see you soon.” 

Meanwhile the man’s gaze shifted to the ground in defeat. 

“Well you don’t look half as menacing as I thought you would be…” Zelene tilted her head sideways as she surveyed the crumpled figure. 

The Mamba remained silent, frozen in place. Chris could already tell that it was going to be a whole ordeal to get any bit of information out of him. 

So instead, he focused on his juniors. “Are you two okay?” 

“Yeah.” Zelene nodded with a small wince. “Just hit my head pretty hard back there.” 

“That tear gas took a toll on me,” Taj added, stifling a nasty cough. “I need some water as soon as we get outta here.” 

Chris nodded back. “I agree, I can barely see anything.” The wind blew through the gash that Taj had slashed into the tent wall causing him to shiver. “I’ll also need a new jacket, that’s for sure.” 

Checking his phone once again, Taj relayed the information to the taskforce. “The team will be here in 5 minutes, so we might as well start securing the area.” 

“Good idea,” Chris hummed. “But first, I’ll call Asher and let him know that we’re all still alive.” 

Zelene snorted in laughter at the idea. “I can totally see him panicking right now after that explosion!” 

“And after that, let’s do a little questioning,” Taj motioned towards the Mamba. “There’s a lot that we have to ask.” 

And Chris couldn’t agree more. 

───────  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ♠ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───────

Asher was seated on a bench, Neall and Joseph huddled around him, ears as close as they could get to the phone. 

“Awesome! Glad you guys are okay!” Asher exclaimed. “See you later then, Chris. Bye!” 

Hanging up the call, he smiled at the expectant audience, repeating the message. “Chris and the team are fine! They caught the suspect but they have not confirmed if he truly is the Mamba or not, so they’ll be bringing him back for further questioning before jumping to conclusions.” 

Neall stretched his back with a groan as he rose from the bench. “Well… Want to go get some funnel cake?” 

“What’s funnel cake?” Joseph signed, tilting his head in curiosity. 

Asher gasped and leapt to his feet. “Only the best fair food ever!” He grabbed the younger boy by the wrist, dragging him along. “And you’re gonna try it!” 

A 5 minute jog and several odd stares from judgy strangers later, the trio arrived at their destination, a warmly lit concession tent. The scent of snow, cinnamon, firewood, and fresh batter wafted through the air as the group approached, but they would have to endure the wait as the line was longer than Neall had ever seen it in the four years he had been attending the festival. 

“So are you a carnival ride person, Jo?” Neall asked, figuring that it would be a great time to engage in some small talk. 

“Not really, I get motion sickness too easily, plus that explosion earlier kinda threw me off altogether!” the hazel eyed boy smiled with a small shrug. 

Neall couldn’t help but chuckle in response. “Honestly, same! There’s plenty to do here that doesn’t involve rides anyways.” 

“Yeah, like the marshmallow roast!” Asher joined, pointing past all the concession tents. “Each year they set up a dozen campfires and you can buy marshmallows!” 

“You’re all about the food, aren’t you?” Neall teasingly joked, carefully adjusting his bracelet. 

Ash made a disgusted face in return. “Of course I am! You should know I have a sweet tooth.” 

“Obviously. I was thinking more along the lines of the carnival games, even though I know they are just scams.” 

Joseph nodded in agreement. 

“Then it’s settled! We’ll head to play a couple of games and finish the night off at the marshmallow roast.” 

“Sounds perfect to me!” Asher smiled, observing the puff of condensed air that appeared when his warm breath met the cold winter wind. 

Time passed by a lot quicker than they had initially expected and soon they were traversing through the snow dusted streets with paper plates of steamy, warm funnel cake in hand. 

“Okay,” Asher said after eating a mouthful of the golden, sugary treat, “This is officially the best funnel cake I have ever had. Fight me.” 

“He says this every year,” Neall whispered to the youngest boy. “But honestly, what do you think of your first taste of funnel cake?” 

“It’s delicious!” Joseph signed with one hand, still clutching onto his plate with the other. 

A speaker crackled from a nearby tent as an announcement was broadcasted. “Howdy folks! We hope you are enjoying your time at Cedarbrooke’s 41st annual New Year’s Festival! We are here to let you know that there are only 30 minutes remaining in this year before we welcome the new one’s arrival!” 

Neall was the last to finish his final bite of the cake, brushing off the sugary dust that was left behind. “So what do you say we check out some games then?” 

A chorus of agreement followed as the trio strolled down the pathways, twinkling under the glow of the overhead string lights. Asher eventually pointed out a tent. 

“I swear those games are rigged. There’s no way anyone is winning that giant, absolutely adorable seagull.” 

“A ring toss?” Neall pondered aloud, observing the bunch of children that were trying and failing to win a prize. 

Asher nodded, gaze still fixated on the huge plush animal. 

The eldest boy sighed in defeat, trekking towards the tent. “Let me try this ‘impossible’ game then and we’ll see about that!” 

“Are you usually this confident about carnival games?” Jo asked, raising his eyebrows, clearly intrigued. 

“Well obviously,” Neall chuckled. “I have the experience.” 

Sure enough, three tries later, the trio left the tent with a new giant seagull plush which Asher was currently brandishing victoriously over his head. 

The next few minutes were spent moving from tent to tent. Neall kept hitting targets, Asher would miss. They convinced Joseph to try the strength tester game and with the swing of the hammer, the meter barely moved an inch causing the two older boys to fold over in fits of laughter.  

By the time they reached the campfires, they were all rosy cheeked and sweaty, exhausted from the excitement of the carnival games. The snow had started to fall again in chilly flakes as Joseph passed out the sticks and Neall grabbed the bag of marshmallows from a nearby stand, still sealed in a plastic bag. They roasted the sweets in silence, a quiet that felt full and cozy rather than empty. 

“Y’know,” Ash eventually spoke up. “If we forget the Mamba incident this may be one of my favorite New Year’s Eves.” 

“What about the one last year where we sung karaoke until 3 AM and-” 

“Neall! I thought we agreed to never speak of that again!” 

They all laughed, two out loud in fits of giggles, one in a soundless bright grin that said everything.

Asher glanced at Neall’s hand, rotating the marshmallow stick slowly and for the first time of the night he noticed the bandages. “Neall? How did you hurt your hand?” 

The elder shrugged it off. “No need to worry, I just cut it at work this morning when I was chopping up the vegetables! I got a little distracted by a cat outside the kitchen window…” 

“You idiot!” Ash scolded. “You need to focus on what you’re doing! Those knives are sharp!” 

“Sorry, sorry! I’ll pay more attention next time!” The dark haired boy laughed, pulling his golden toasted marshmallow away from the flames. “I wonder how many minutes are left until midnight?”

The booming voice over the speaker answered his question. “Hello again folks! Just letting everyone know that there is now one minute left until the clock strikes 12 and we bring in the new year!” 

Cheers erupted from the crowds, surrounding their own mini campfires and the chatter soon continued on like before. 

“It really is a shame that the Mamba chose to attack tonight of all nights…” Asher watched his marshmallow twirling slowly over the bouncing flames. “It would’ve been nice if Chris, Taj, and Ze could join us.” 

“I agree, but remember that if they weren’t on the job they would never have caught the Mamba, right?” Neall added. “And because of Jo here, there might have been many casualties this evening too.” 

The mute boy smiled at the acknowledgement, signing back a message. “I’m glad I can help!” 

“Trust me, Jo, we are all glad you can too!” the blonde piped up. “You really complete our friend group and it just feels like you’ve been here all along.” 

There was a sudden bustling in the crowds as a countdown from ten began to be chanted. Asher was the first to join, followed by the other two. 

“3! 2! 1!” 

Fireworks shot through the air, exploding in beautiful glistening glory as cheers and whistles of joy erupted. The trio simply enjoyed the moment in elated silence, watching the colorful show in the sky. 

Asher eventually picked up his roasting stick, shoving another marshmallow onto its tip. “Let us propose a toast!” he cried, holding it over his head. “To our next year together!” 

The others joined in, placing their own sticks above the glowing open flames. 

“Cheers to our friendship! May it last forever and ever!”

“Cheers!” Neall called as he and Joseph clashed their skewers together in a tribute that was promptly ended when Asher inhaled his own marshmallow. 

The next few minutes were spent debating what the perfect toasted marshmallow looked like. Was it light brown or practically charcoal? The answer was never settled upon but a truce was soon announced as the eldest stood up and collected his belongings with a content sigh. 

“Well, I’d better get back home… I have to work tomorrow at 6 in the morning, but pay me a visit when you get a chance! Possibly for lunch?” 

“6 AM?! You’d better get to sleep then and yes, we would absolutely love to join you for lunch!” Asher agreed with a smile. “See you soon, Neall!” 

“See you soon!” the eldest boy waved, heading into the bustling crowds which he eventually blended in with, disappearing from sight. 

Ash turned to his last remaining companion with a smile. “So shall I drive you home too?” 

“Yeah, I might stay up even later and binge some shows though to be honest…” Joseph sheepishly grinned, scratching the back of his head. 

“Ugh, relatable!” Asher giggled, packing the leftover marshmallows and gathering the used sticks. “I should honestly try to do some reading, but I’ll probably fall asleep within minutes!” 

“You need to be fueled with caffeine and rage in order to survive,” Jo signed with a blatant expression which caused the older boy to laugh until his sides ached. 

The two tossed the wooden skewers at the nearest trash bin and Jo stuffed the extra sweet treats into his pockets. Asher returned for his new plush friend, dusting snowflakes off of its soft head. “Well, Mr. Angry Coffee Drinker, what do you say? Shall we make a departure?” 

“Well of course, my good sir. We shall now commence departure,” the angry coffee drinker replied with a polite bow.  

The duo trudged through the crunchy powder towards the exit, admiring another round of late fireworks that were visible on the horizon. They were like colorful flowers, illuminated the sky, flowers that would blossom like their own friendship. But unlike the bright sparks that would fall and fade away after their brief appearance, Asher truly hoped that their friendship would never end. 

───────  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ♠ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───────

While everyone else in the city welcomed the new year, Chris sat in the interrogation room, completely and utterly bored. He should be out celebrating, but instead, here he was questioning a suspect that hadn’t spoken a word for hours and clearly wasn’t going to any time soon. 

“We only need to know one thing,” he repeated for what felt like the hundredth time that night. “Are you associated with the Mamba?” 

The visibly shaken man simply stared at the empty table, fidgeting with his handcuffs. The guy had long, dark hair that was covering his downcast eyes. His stressed expression made it seem as if he were nothing but a citizen, but Chris had his suspicions. This man had stabbed and almost killed an innocent worker at the carnival and if he hadn’t been stopped it might have been much worse. 

“Sir, I will ask again. Are you associated with the Mamba or not?” 

The silence continued and it was obvious that this man would not speak. 

Chris rose from his chair, collecting his blank folder and motioning to the door. Two junior officers entered and grabbed the suspect, awaiting an order. 

“You can take him to the detainment unit and we’ll try one more time tomorrow before he is sent to court. Thank you for your help.” 

The two cops nodded, leaving down the halls with the man. Chris sighed, rubbing his tired eyes as he joined Zelene and Taj who had been listening in on the conversation from outside the room. 

“Well that was pretty useless, huh?” Zelene groaned in annoyance. “I did manage to dig up some files using the DNA samples and the facial recognition systems though.” 

“And?”

“Rob Malvaez, 29. No living family and single. Though he does have a criminal record where he was charged with disorderly conduct several years ago, he seems to have started a new life for himself and now works a regular job at a laundromat. No implications of being the Mamba at all.” 

“Great,” Chris mumbled, “So we’re basically at another dead end then.” 

“I do have a theory though…” Taj finally spoke up, digging through old photos. He picked one up and slid it across the desk. “This is from the scene at the neighborhood a couple weeks ago where that high schooler was poisoned. This is the only photograph we have of the Mamba. Now I know that we can’t see his face, but tell me from the stature whether or not the two look alike.” 

Chris observed the picture. The man was clothed similarly to the one they had captured that day, the dark cloak and scaled pattern on his arm, however, the one in the image was tall and slender, possibly more than 6 feet tall. The one in custody was short and built, very muscular unlike the man at the other scene. 

“You’re absolutely right,” Zelene gasped, scribbling down some notes on an empty file page. “They can’t be the same person, but what else are you on about?” 

“What if the Mamba isn’t just one person?” 

Chris froze, glancing up from the photograph at his partner. “What do you mean?” 

“What if the Mamba is the boss of a whole organization of followers?” Taj cleared up his question, ready to provide the facts. “I mean, the Mamba is powerful enough to strike fear into anyone living in Cedarbrooke. So if you think about it, wouldn’t many find it easier to work for the guy instead of being at the risk of death every day of their lives?” 

Suddenly, the computer in front of the trio that was originally used for surveillance into the interrogation room flickered off to a static black and white screen before transitioning to a fuzzy video. Another cloaked figure took form in the darkness. 

“Wow! Look at you three go, figuring out my secrets!” the chillingly happy voice congratulated the taskforce. It was distorted, but clear enough to confirm it was still human. 

Chris, Taj, and Zelene ran towards the device, huddling around the image of what they supposed was the true Black Mamba. 

“I have noticed that you have unfortunately taken one of my men,” the Mamba drawled on with a smirk. “But you should know that they are all simply… disposable.” 

“What the hell do you want?” Chris demanded. “We don’t have time for your games.” 

“Oh but all I have is a simple question for you… in exchange for a hint of course!” 

Chris glanced at the two officers who looked rather hesitant to continue. “Tell us the question first and we’ll decide from there.” 

“Now I know you have a new friend in your little group… Joseph, was it? Since then, my followers have been, how do I say this… experiencing problems. You think you’re onto something clever, but you underestimate me. So my question for you all is, how? How have you managed to be one step ahead of my schemes?” 

Taj shook his head in denial as Ze motioned towards Chris to stay quiet, but the Mamba wasn’t going to take that as an answer. 

“Do you want to find out what happens when you ignore me?” the voice growled, becoming increasingly desperate. “Don’t do this. Just answer the question!” 

“No.” 

The room froze in panic as Chris refused to answer.

The Mamba was clearly shocked at the reply, waiting in silence for a moment. But it was also evident his anger was rising. 

“You will regret this.” 

And with that, the computer returned to normal and the only thing on the screen was the interrogation room. 

A feeling of utter dread settled inside of Chris. “Guys… I’m sorry-” 

“Don’t be,” Zelene immediately replied, grabbing the boy’s hand. “It was the right thing to do.” 

“Yeah, I agree,” Taj piped in, sinking into his chair. “In case he’s still listening I won’t say it out loud, but we can’t let him know our secret.” 

Chris had to admit they were right. Endangering Joseph was not an option. Yet still… “Somehow I think this was a very bad idea.” 

“Unfortunately it might be, but for now everyone is safe and that is all that matters.” Taj smiled, packing up the scattered notes and folders.

The eldest sighed in defeat. “Yeah, you’re right.” 

Zelene grabbed her laptop, stuffing it into her backpack with a small nod. “The past is the past. We’ll deal with the future when it comes our way. And for the present, I will head home and have a nap. Happy New Year folks!” 

“Happy New Year, Ze!” Taj answered with a smile. “I can drop you off on my way home! I know it’s pretty late to be driving.” 

“That would be awesome!” The girl stretched her arms with a yawn. “At this rate I would probably fall asleep at the wheel.” 

The chattering duo receded down the halls until Chris was completely alone once more. It was now 3 AM. In all the chaos Chris had totally forgotten the occasion and the new year had been welcomed without him. This January would mark the fifth month that Matthew had been missing for… the fifth month that Chris had to spend on his own. It all went by in a blur. Time wouldn’t wait for anyone. And as the months blew by he felt as though they had made no progress on the Mamba case. 

He now knew it was an organization under a single leader. He knew how to identify a follower by their black cloak and snakeskin arm bands. He knew the Mamba was a Latin fanatic and also quite artistic, ordering that each scene be meticulously detailed yet also clean. Did the Mamba do any of the dirty work himself though? How many unfortunately misled people worked for him?

One question in particular lingered; How did he know this much information about the taskforce? 

Yes, the Mamba had hacked into the systems in the department twice now and he was also able to erase all digital footage of the places he attacked. None of this, however, could explain how he knew so much about Joseph. It was a possibility that the murderer had surveyed the cameras when the boy was brought in for questioning, but that wouldn’t give him enough information to conclude that Joseph was now a part of their tight-knit group of friends… unless the Mamba was actually in it. 

Chris exhaled wearily, leaning back in his chair. Now was not the time to be accusing anyone of being affiliated with the Mamba. Such an event would be unimaginable. 

His eyes felt heavy as he stared into the interrogation room imagining impossible scenarios. Who knows, maybe the Mamba was watching him right now? Whatever the case may be though, Chris knew he needed to get some sleep if he wanted to be somewhat energized for the next day of work… in 3 hours. It could be worse, right?

So he reclined in the seat, finally giving in to the exhaustion that was slowly taking over and closed his eyes to sleep. 

The next thing Chris knew he was awoken by the sound of his phone ringing. He startled, hand shooting over to grab the device as the bright screen shone on his face. Dalton’s name was marked at the top of the screen. 

“Gibbs, we need the taskforce on scene as soon as possible.” 

Chris checked the time. It was a rare occurrence for the Mamba to attack during the day, especially at 6 AM in the morning with the only exception being the donut shop incident. He had to have a solid reasoning behind this scheme. 

“Roger that, sir. What is the location of the incident?” 

Dalton took a moment to answer, the crackle of noise in the background taking over the call. 

“7th street, building 10. The Spice Garden Eatery. Someone’s gone missing.”