onepassingnight | (no subject)

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[New York City is all around him, a mixture of loud noise and constant movement. He's standing in the middle of the sidewalk, holding a piece of paper and scanning the crowd.

And there she is.]

Kate! [He starts running after her, pushing people aside as he goes.] Kate, wait!

[He runs faster and faster, following her through the streets, darting into alleys and making sharp turns but he can never quite reach her, no matter how fast he goes.

His lungs are burning, his legs ache but he keeps moving, taking another quick turn and nearly crashing into a brick wall.

A wall. A wall with no other exits in immediate view and too high to climb.]

...Kate?

[He looks around, expression momentarily helpless.]

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"I've fought monsters like this before." Not precisely, but close enough. She'd fought creatures corrupted by a demon, humans turned into monsters with genetic experiments, beings made of snow and their queen of ice, and these shadows remind her of lemures, dead nightmares.

"Huh, okay then." What the hell, he'll go with it and question the logistics of all this later. Besides, dream logic rarely obeys real world logic and he is firmly set in the belief that all of this is some kind of very odd dream.

"So," he says, peering down at the darkness. "You're the one who's done this before. What do we do?"

"If she's here, she's past the shadows. They're gone for the time being. This is our chance, don't you think?"

"Probably," he says with a sigh, stepping forward. "Let's go then." He smiles at her, a little strained. This is all very new, very strange and very irritating when it comes to pulling at his heartstrings. The sooner this is all said and done, the better.

There are boxes in the basement, large crates that are begging to be opened but he look past them. He tries to see into the darkness, tries to see Kate but doesn't spy anything. He holds the phone higher, trying to spread out the light.

"Do you see...anything?" He blinks, turning to Ami.

For her, of course, these things aren't personal at all. So it's easy for her to treat it like any other uncertain scenario and strike quickly at the illusions.

She knows it's not so for him. But her sympathy, if she has any, shows itself in waiting for him, in staying with him.

"Nothing," she confirms. "But in this darkness, it's better to rely on instinct." Kunzite had drilled that into her with blindfolded training that came with rather sharp, pointed, and painful reminders at times.

He's honestly not sure what to make of Ami, of her distant nature. She's still here though, still trying to help him and that has to count for something. Of course it could all be a part of some bigger game but he's trying to be an optimist.

He nods his head at her comment, moving carefully around the boxes, trying ihis best not to touch them. He doubts anything would happen if he did but hes not entirely willing to take that chance.

THe shadows start forming again, writing around one another and forming that same female shape once again. Neal sucks in a breath but he knows better this time.

"Stop it," he growls at them, aiming his light at the spot they had chosen to converse. "Just stop it."

But they just move away, forming in a different spot until the female silhouette is fully formed and calling once again.

The only ones she truly wishes ill are her direct enemies. But Ami has given up on most friendship; even her comrades now, she is slow to trust as friends or call friends.

"They're going out of their way to welcome us," she says with light irony. "Shall we take their invitation after all?"

He laughs, a sharp bitter sound. "Why not, we've got nothing else to do?"

He turns to her, offering out his arm again this time in a mockery towards the shadows more than to be polite. "Shall we then?"

"Thank you for escorting me." Oh, she could ham it up just as much as he could. She took the arm deliberately, and stepped forward lightly, very much the girl out for a simple stroll.

Through the dark basement.

Full of shadows and illusions.

They walk together, casual as can be while the shadows form around them, mostly the female figure but other shapes as well, things Neal might recognize but he tires not to pay them any mind. They just keep walking.

Until they reach a door, of course. It has an overhanging light, giving someone just enough room to stay underneath and be rid of the shadows.

He looks down at er. "Well," he says with a curios look. "It seems like we've reached our destination."

Releasing her, he moves to try and open the door but it's locked. It doesn't even make him blink, just reach into a pocket and pull out his tools. No, he has no idea when those got into his pockets but he doesn't question it.

After a second, he manages to unlock the door, hand now resting on the knob. "Ready when you are," he says, looking over his shoulder to her.

Guess he just carries tools with him! As of now.

Ami grins. "Let's go!" She takes a somewhat guarded stance simply from the possibility of encountering something hostile.

He pushes the door open, peering inside. The light is dim and he can't quite see at first but it only takes his eyes a few moments to adjust.

It's as if they've shifted from a basement to a morgue and in the center of the room lies Kate, naked and pale and very much dead.

Neal recoils, his head spinning and bile rising up in his throat.

"Oh god."

Even Ami is taken aback.

"This wasn't a morgue," she says firmly, almost as though to convince herself of it. But what she knows in her mind has never been as easy to realize emotionally, and she instinctively still reels from the discovery.

"This isn't real." This is for Neal's benefit as much as her own.

He's turned away, unable to look at her. His mind is racing, coming up with all manner of things, of rage and terror and sickness and so many other things.

Ami's words cut through his thoughts to because they mean anything but because they're an outside force, something 'real'.

""It wasn't," he says with a shaking breath. "This can't be. I saw her. They couldn't have had time to...." But he doesn't know, can't be sure of what he says. He's going to say it anyway, as a comfort to himself.

"There's no use staying here." And upsetting himself over something that can't even be true. "Let's go." She keeps her voice firm, controlled. When she wakes up, the memory will still give her a shudder. She's seen death before; but she's never accepted it easily.

"Give me a second," he says, taking in a shaking breath. "I just..."

He walks up to the corpse, one hand hovering above her heart. If he twitched, he would be touching her, he just can't bring himself to do it. He doesn't want to feel the cold, dead flesh beneath his fingers.

"It's not real," he says to himself and turns his back, walking away from the body and back towards Ami and the exit.

Of course, she'll tell herself the shudder is a useless as staying here now would be. She nods, and lifts her head before moving towards the exit. She will not lose her composure.

It's a fight for both of them apparently, as he tries to keep himself from shaking. Their steps echo in the basement, the shadows no longer teasing them as they walk. It's only when they approach the light again that Neal breaths a sigh of relief.

"I wasn't sure we'd be allowed out," he confesses, looking to Ami before staring up the stairs.

What he doesn't realize is that, once the sunlight has fully hit his face, he'll have been jolted awake.

"Then we'd have fought our way out." She gives a closed-lipped smirk, as though she enjoys the idea. The truth is, she does; the idea of cutting her path open for herself is appealing, if she needs to do it.

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