Phantom

18.

Brett

Brett woke up from a piercing pain in his shoulder. It took a moment to fully grasp where he was. The white ceiling, the beeping of the monitor, an IV in his arm. His heartbeat raced as he felt the bandage on his shoulder, thinking how close the bullet was to shoot him right at his heart or his lungs.

There were two people in the run - does that mean there could be more? Does this mean this case might not be the work of one serial killer but several... or as a criminal organization?

He should probably talk to Juan about it. Juan would probably not approve of how Brett basically talked to the air and ran off on his own though. How on earth should he explain it to him?

Brett shifted and laid down to the side, feeling how uncomfortable the hospital bed was. That was when he realized that Eddy was laying down right next to Brett, staring at him. Their eyes met and Brett recoiled back in surprise.

"Hey," Brett called a little bit too loudly, realizing how close they are.

"Hey, how do you feel?" Eddy asked.

"I'm...alright, I guess? This is pretty common actually during-"

"You scared me to death," Eddy burrowed his face deeper into the blanket, sighing.

"I'm pretty sure I didn't," Brett smiled.

This was actually nice. Eddy laying down next to him, only a breath away from him. Burrowed in the blanket and waiting for him to wake up...like ... a puppy actually. Brett almost reached out to try patting Eddy on the head jokingly but winced as he felt the pain on his shoulder.

"You sure you're alright?" Eddy asked with concern in his voice.

"Yeah...just sore. How long was I gone?"

"Just a day. I think should sleep more though. Sleep while you can - I sincerely miss it," Eddy mumbled as he pulled the blanket tighter around Brett.

Brett couldn't sleep though. Brett closed his eyes in an attempt to sleep but first, the beeping of the machine was annoying as hell and secondly, Eddy's presence right next to him was far too distracting. Brett slowly opened his eyes and saw Eddy has also closed his eyes. Eddy's eyelashes fluttered a little as he tried to mimic sleeping next to Brett. Brett just watched Eddy for awhile, thinking how much he wanted to feel him: trace his messy hair with his finger, slide down to his perfect jaws, swoop up his sharp chin and land on his slightly open lips...

Then Brett thought about how confusingly familiar this all seemed to him.

"Can't sleep?" Eddy asked, his eyes still closed.

Brett jumped, his heart racing. He gulped and asked carefully -

"I...have a question?"

"What?"

"Does this feel...oddly familiar to you?"

Brett's mind raced to that day when they drank together in Eddy's room.

.

.

"You're never going to understand how I feel," Brett murmured.

"Why do you say that?"

"You don't know what I feel. What I see."

"Tell me about it."

"There are things that just mess up my brain," Brett whispered. Then he looked at Eddy, downing his third shot.

"And you are one of them, Eddy Chen."

The day was the closest he got to telling Eddy about his feeling. And that was all he remembered - until now.

Brett drunkly set down his glass, staring at Eddy. Eddy's eyes widened as Brett leaned closer and closer, until he kissed him lightly on the lips. Brett could feel Eddy's sweet scent mixed with a bit of alcohol. He relished on that soft feeling, perfume of wild teenage love covering them.

"Don't tell anyone-" Brett whispered, before he passed out.

.

.

Brett hesitantly looked up at Eddy, who wasn't speaking a word. Eddy still didn't say anything as Brett did what his memory told him - the courage that he could only fathom when he was drunk.

Brett leaned toward Eddy, his cheek blossoming into a color red. Closer and closer, his heavy breath lingering with Eddy's, almost close enough to -

"Caaan yoou belieeeve it?!?!? Raayyyy - the looove of my liife is gooooone!!!!!!"

Brett almost shit his pants as the piercing wail came from behind him. He jolted up from the bed, seeing a short female ghost looming over them.

The female ghost cried again in frustration, burrowing herself to the bed sheet, basically haunting Brett's bed.

"Who...do you know who this is?" Brett asked Eddy, confused.

"Um, yeah. She showed me how to locate your room and stuff. She seems to be very into Ray, my friend. He also plays the violin, a soloist"

"Huh, so he was in the hospital? Why?"

"Heard he hurt his finger. But -"

"My Raaayyyy - he went back hooooome," the ghost's muffled cry from the bedsheet rang the room.

"Yeah, doesn't seem to be a serious wound though," Eddy muttered.

"Do you know how he hurt his finger?" Brett thought about this strange coincidence for a moment.

"Not suuure, but he saaiid someone atttacked my Raaayy!!!!! They neeed to dieeee!"

Brett's eyes met with Eddy for a split second, a creeping suspicion building up inside them.

Is Ray the next target? Are people around Eddy in danger?