Resolution

Chapter Nine

The police station was quiet. K sat on a worn leather couch, staring at a small TV in the corner of the room. It was playing some midday talk show, and was muted with subtitles. K stared at the botched translation in yellow, wringing her hands. Pete was sitting beside her, looking pale, and almost ill.

He was worried about her. She knew. He'd never experienced her when she was trapped in one of her flashbacks, and that was one of the most prolonged ones she'd had in a years.

She wanted to reassure him that she was alright, but she would just be lying.

So they were silent as they waited. The package and the dress had been taken. The detectives of the case were talking out the back. Edson, the detective from the hospital, had greeted her with a tired face, and given her a warm smile.

K had explained what had happened, and, thankfully, the officers seemed just as suspicious as she did.

They'd told her they would look into it a little, then come back out and bring her in for a run down on the case.

They didn't say how long they would be. K had told Pete that he could go, and pick her up later, but he had refused. He was shaken up. When she'd resurfaced from the memory of the flashback, she'd been crying hysterically, shaking her head, gasping for breath. He'd had to comfort her, clasp her hands, and bring her back down to the present.

Now he was acting as some sort of protector, a figure of care, looking over her.

Perhaps it should have been comforting, but all she felt was guilty that she was bringing him down.

"Do you need a cup of water?" He asked, almost nervously, gesturing across to the water station. She shook her head mutely.

He looked at her for a moment, his face swirling with emotion, then stood, and started pacing nervously.

She just sat, watching him, her eyes moving with his movements, back and forth. She stared blankly, unthinking. She couldn't think. If she thought, she would feel, and she didn't want to feel. It hurt too much.

After a few minutes, Pete sat back down, and unexpectedly grabbed her hands. She met his eyes, shocked, to see a strange kind of desperation showing upon his face.

"We'll figure it out." He said, his voice shaky. "You'll be okay."

At this bizarre confrontation, K could feel the dam she'd built within her mind, holding back her emotion, slowly cracking. She bit her lip, and drew her hands away from Pete's. Then she just silently nodded, and looked away.

"I'm going to the bathroom." She said quietly, as she stood. Pete didn't do anything, just watched her go.

The restrooms were by the entrance, and when she passed the glass doors, she glanced outside at the grey sky.

Outside, across the road, was a train station, and just for a moment, K paused and watched the people come and go, running through the rain, or walking arrogantly slowly, holding big umbrellas of conceit.

K watched only for a second, then pushed open the girls' room door and looked away.

When she returned, Eddy was standing by the couch, talking to Pete quietly. They went quiet when she came back in. Eddy gave her a comforting smile. "We're ready for you now, K."

She nodded, and followed him. Pete stayed where he was. "I'll be right out here for you if you need me, buttercup." He called, nervously, just as they left the room. She looked back briefly at him, and smiled softly.

Then, the door shut, and he was gone.

Eddy led her down the hallway, to a big room, filled with desks, chairs, cabinets, and couches. There were a number of officers lazing around, or sitting at the desks doing work. On one wall were seperate rooms, with glass windows, seperate offices. Eddy led her to one marked with his name, Detective Chris Edson, and one they were inside, he shut the door behind her, and sat at a large mahogany desk, on a big, black, leather wheelie chair.