A Danger That Lurks In The Darkness | A TPQ AU |

XXV | We've Reached A Dead End

MINI

"HIS BODY WASHED UP IN THE SEWERS, AND WAS FOUND BY A JANITOR." The medical examiner's gaze was fixed on his clipboard.

The bright lights glared down on the gurney standing in the middle of the room, as Mini stared at the white tiles, her fingers curling on in themselves.

She didn't speak. She felt the beginnings of a headache pound at her temples, and her hand hovered at the back of her neck.

"I'll leave the files with you," the ME's voice was faint, which was strange, since he was right... there?

She was suddenly aware of her own breathing— the rise and fall of her own chest, the way her thoughts were scattered, how the lights hurt her eyes— the wound at her shoulder throbbed, as she told herself: Concentrate.

She pulled herself back to reality, catching Rudy's eye. A strange expression flitted across his face, a divot in the space between his eyebrows, the skin around his eyes creasing as he watched her closely, as if waiting to see her speak.

"Are you..." He trailed off, looking away.

Are you alright? Her brain supplied the end of the question.

"What do the files say?" She asked, her voice quiet, her nails digging into her palm.

He cleared his throat, shooting her a quick glance, filled with worry— and turned his attention to the files.

"They found this on a pouch that was hidden in his clothes—" he handed her a note written in blocky handwriting, the ink bleeding but still readable.

"I must wash the weight of my sins," she read out, "This is my apology to the world, for wasting what I had when I had it. I have to go."

She narrowed her eyes. "This sounds like—"

"Like... he did it himself?" Rudy ventured. She nodded, as he continued, handing her the file.

"Yeah, and that's what I thought, too. But, look at this—"

"The... tissue was bloated and nearly destroyed because of the canal water, but there were bruises on his throat," she read out.

Bruises... "Like he was strangled?"

"Mm-hm," he hummed. "And there are several old scars— some self-inflicted, the others..." He didn't finish the sentence, but fell silent.

"Rudy," she said, quietly. "I don't think he killed himself."

"Neither do I. And I have a pretty good idea who did it."

————

Rudy sauntered over, two cups of coffee in his hand, and pushed one in her hands. "Drink," he said, and pushed open the tab on the lid of his own drink.

She followed suit, and merely stared at the coffee, catching sight of her own, murky reflection in the drink.

The person staring back looked different: angry, shocked, tired. Even scared. She found these warring emotions in the nooks and crannies of her face, in the bags under her eyes, in the curve of her mouth— if she'd been normal, they wouldn't be there.

"You've been silent for quite a while," Rudy noted, a shadow of the expression he'd had back at the ME's office flitting across his face.

"How could... he have killed his brother?"

"He's a terrible person," Rudy said, matter-of-factly, leaning back on the bench.

She stared at the wisps of steam from the coffee, before taking a sip.

"So we know— or have a pretty good idea of who killed him," She began, leaning back in the bench, her eyes tracking the clouds scudding across the sky.

"Mm," he took a sip of his own coffee. "And— according to the medical examiners' reports, there's scarring, the type that comes from long-term injuries."

"So he was abusing his brother," she said, turning her gaze toward the ground, slowly turning the thought in his head. It was a leap, but it was all she could think of.

"And for a long time. Maybe that's how he convinced James to join him," Rudy said, thoughtfully, his head tilted slightly, a faraway look in his eyes.

"Why not come to us? Or the authorities? Maybe we could've helped. Maybe he could've helped us,"

The question was stupid, she knew, and as soon as she said it, the answer came back to her: He would know.

Rudy did not comment, but just sighed. "Whatever— and however he could've helped us, it's all gone, now. Even if he'd left anything behind... Mark Daniels must be on his way to destroy it."

She tilted her head, her mind taking another leap, connecting two very far-off thoughts.

"What if he did try to help?" she asked, quietly.

He raised his eyebrows.

"The note from where Patricia was taken. The texts I got— the transcripts of the court cases," she counted them off her fingers, with her free hand. She took another sip of coffee.

"Maybe he did help," she continued, and Rudy picked up from where she left off, "And maybe that's why he was killed."

"And with Sheela," he said, after a pause. "There was no point in keeping her alive—"

Something inside her twinged, as Rudy hastily corrected: "I mean, I'm glad she's alive— but if you were them, would you really want her to remain alive? What would stop her from telling us... everything?"

"Maybe he gave her something so she could lose her memory— but he actually had to kill her,"

"Maybe that's what got him killed," she continued, and silence followed.

"Still doesn't excuse what he did," he muttered, taking a gulp of his own coffee.

"It doesn't," she agreed, leaning back, a crick in her neck.

She took a deep breath, trying to enjoy a few minutes of silence, and trying to gather her thoughts.

Think, think, think...

She couldn't think of anything. What both of them were saying was pure speculation— and even if they were right, there was a slim chance they would find out if they were on the right track.

Nearly all their leads were exhausted.

Her ringtone broke through her thoughts— as, startled, they looked at her phone, the top of the screen flashing with Shakhuni's number.

"Hello?"

"Uh, yeah, Mini? There's somebody here to meet you."

"Who?"

"A blonde girl— around your age. She says her name is 'Mae'."

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a/n: christmas eve is coming pretty soon! i'm excited, haha <3. what are your plans?