It’s late by the time we get back to Aiden’s apartment. The night sky is a deep, inky black, the stars visible now that the snow clouds have moved on. We go right to the bedroom, where Aiden stretches out on his back, yawning deeply. The leaves of the malachite plant turn to face him. A barely perceptible sound accompanies the movement, like little pieces of glass knocking against each other.

I put my jacket next to Aiden’s and join him on the bed, wrap myself around him like climbing ivy. He doesn’t open his eyes, but he smiles, curling an arm around me.

We lay still for a moment. We’re both drowsy, moving slow, numb from the cold outside. Aiden burned up most of his magical energy this morning, but he has enough left to start putting off a steady, comfortable heat. I relax into it, let it melt me against him.

He took off his sweater, so he’s only in a navy blue t-shirt. One that hugs his considerable biceps nicely, strains a tiny bit across the span of his chest. I trace my fingers up and down his arm, studying him with affectionate eyes - then stop.

“Oh, my god.” I prop myself up on an elbow and look down at Aiden, concerned. “Babe - what happened?”

His upper arms are spangled with small, light bruises. They weren't there last night. I would have noticed.

Aiden opens one eye, sees what I’m talking about, and laughs. “You happened. Little demon.”

“What-?” I realize what he means, and sit up further, my cheeks burning. “Wait a sec - did I do that - when we-?”

“Yep.”

“Are you serious?” I had no idea that I was gripping him tightly enough to bruise him. “Those are from me?”

“Mhm. Got some on my back, too. And one on my thigh.” Aiden’s eyes are closed again, but he breaks into a wide grin. “Wish I could keep them, honestly.”

I let out a startled laugh, then drop my forehead onto his chest. He laughs, too, and I feel the rumble of it through the fabric of his shirt.

“I didn’t realize,” I groan. “It was an accident! I don’t think I’ve done that to anyone before. No, actually, I definitely haven’t. I know I haven’t.”

“No?” Aiden looks down at me, his smile broadening. “Hm. Now I really, really wish that I could keep them.”

“Oh, god.” My cheeks are positively flaming, now, and I bury my face into his chest to hide it. “I’m so sorry. I’ll ease up next time, I promise.”

Aiden takes a handful of my hair and gives it a tug, forcing my face up towards his. I freeze at once, captivated by the look in his eyes.

“Nah.” He bites his lip, then drags his thumb along my jaw. “Don’t do that.”

I’m hit with a sudden, powerful desire to pounce on him again.

I don’t know how that’s possible. It's been a full day, and I’m really tired. I’m receiving impressions instead of seeing clear outlines. Colors, sensations, feelings, the soft bloom of happiness in my heart. The warmth of this apartment, of Aiden’s body, of tasting vetiver with each breath. When we walked up the stairs, I was seeing the hushed, silent beauty of the snowy landscape as if it was painted in watercolors.

And yet. There’s something unbearably sexy about the way that Aiden is spread out on the bed beneath me. His tousled chestnut hair, his full lips, ocean-blue eyes pooled with moonlight. The way he moves so easily between a cocky, devious smirk and a gentle smile.

A spark lights in my chest, and a slow wave of warmth moves through me. I’m too tired to act on it, but it’s definitely there.

Something similar must be happening to Aiden, because he lets out a quiet laugh, spreads a mammoth hand on my back. His eyes rest lingeringly on mine as his fingers move lower. They slip beneath my flannel, to lightly stroke up and down my spine.

We snuggle close to each other, our inner fires smoldering in tandem.

“You and Noosh were upstairs for a while,” Aiden murmurs eventually. “Is he okay?”

“Mmm, yes. We were just talking about how it’s going with him, Raj, and Mel. Really good, apparently.”

“Yeah, I got that impression,” Aiden says, and we both laugh again. “Have to say, it’s nice to see him so happy. After all that shit with Ralph.”

I hear the thread of guilt in Aiden’s words, and understand. I know that he wishes he’d done more to help Noah out with Ralph before he left town.

“He really is,” I tell Aiden, kissing the line of his jaw. “He’s happy.”

Aiden nods, lets out a soft breath. “Good.”

We lapse back into silence, and my mind drifts to what Noah said to me about Ralph. His lies, his way of twisting everything around. Part of me is angry at Ralph, but -

Part of me is thinking about the bottle of hot sauce that he left on Aiden’s porch. An inside joke, a birthday gift, even after their catastrophic last interaction. And Noah’s stuff, left neatly on Raj’s doorstep, nothing broken or destroyed. The care that Ralph took to make sure that it wouldn’t be stolen.

Ralph, outside of my window, intending to go unseen. Looking up at my apartment in silence before he disappeared back into the darkness.

Small, human moments. There’s something there, behind the cold, brutal armor. I’m starting to wonder what it is.

Why does Ralph feel like he needs his armor, in the first place? Noah said that he wanted to trust Ralph. He gave him the benefit of the doubt so many times, stuck with him through so much bullshit, but Ralph still felt like he had to hold onto Noah’s money, crush him every time he asked a question, treat the tiniest pushback like a full-fledged mutiny.

And while he always acted like Noah meant nothing to him, when Noah finally escaped, Ralph put in a hell of an effort to get him back.

I know so little about Ralph’s real inner landscape. I can’t even begin to unravel his motivations, his thought process. I wonder if Ralph himself has a conscious explanation for the shit he pulls, or if it comes from such a deep source that he doesn’t even think about it.

I have no idea, but I know someone who might.

“Aiden."

“Mmm?”

“Do you ever think about why Ralph is the way that he is? Like - what happened to him?”

Aiden opens his eyes, tucks one elbow behind his head, and looks down at me.

“What do you mean, what happened to him?”

“Just…” I shrug, resting my palm on the solid warmth of Aiden’s stomach. “I wonder what has to happen to a person, to make them think that the only thing left for them is to destroy others. Crush people into submission, force them to do what you want, to stick with you...”

Aiden stares at me silently, then sits up. I sit up with him, surprised by the sudden anxiety in his blue eyes.

“Jamie, you promised me. You promised that you weren't gonna try to talk to Ralph-”

“I won’t!” I say quickly. “I promise, I won’t. But it’s kind of eating at me. Like - why? Why is he like this?”

“Some people are just assholes, dude, they don’t need a reason.”

“Yeah, I realize that. I’ve met a few, believe me. But is Ralph one of those people? You’ve known him since forever, so - do you know?”

Aiden takes a minute to get his thoughts in order. Then another, and another.

It turns out to be a long stretch of time, even for Aiden, but I make myself wait patiently.

He breaks the silence with a long, frustrated breath. “What has you thinking he’s got a reason?”

“I don’t know.” I shrug my shoulders. “The birthday gift he gave you. The gesture with Noah’s stuff, even if it was wildly misguided. Would a person who’s nothing more than a through-and-through asshole do that stuff?”

“Maybe.” Aiden smooths a strand of hair out of my eyes. “Could have been a guilt trip. As for Noah’s stuff - Ralph was probably trying to earn just enough goodwill to make Noah reconsider, come back.”

“Then why didn’t he say anything about the gift he gave you? Why’d he try to pretend that it was Grant who gave Noah’s stuff back, not him? Doesn’t that seem out of rhythm with his usual tactics? You said so yourself. You said that it didn’t seem like one of Ralph’s tricks.”

“Well - yeah, but-”

“And,” I continue, planting a finger over Aiden’s lips, “There’s how horrible you felt, after the smackdown you gave him. What does that tell you?”

“I would have felt horrible doing that to anyone, man.”

“As horrible as you felt doing it to Ralph, specifically?”

Aiden opens his mouth to answer, then closes it again, his eyes frustrated and stressed.

“Honestly,” I tell him, “I’m not trying to make friends with Ralph, I don’t even want to get within a hundred feet of him. I’m just wondering. That’s it.”

Aiden nibbles his lip for a moment, then sits up more. I stretch my legs out over his, and he settles a hand on my knee, considering his phrasing.

“Ralph... has gotten worse with time. But when I met him, he was already well on his way to becoming the person he is now. So I can’t say for sure if he has a reason, or if this is just who he is. Although, if I had to guess… I probably wouldn’t say the latter.”

I fall silent, absorbing that, and Aiden keeps going.

“I don’t think that there’s one big reason, though. I think that maybe he’s - overall, just kind of - unhappy with himself?” Aiden winces, rubbing his forehead. “That sounds really harsh. I don’t mean it like that. But when we went to save him from Cameron, he was alone, about to get kicked out of a shitty bar. Blackout drunk, because he thought he got stood up by a girl whose name he didn’t even remember. And the girl turned out to be a bunch of dudes he’d pissed off, luring him out so they could kick his ass. It just - doesn’t seem like he’s in a super great place in his life, right now.”

This... actually kind of checks out. I lean back on my hands, thinking it over.

Of course Ralph would do everything to force people to stay by his side, if he saw no reason why they’d choose to do so on their own. If he didn’t see that reason within himself.

Is that why he’s so prone to lying, too? His lies are manipulative, a means to an end, but - maybe, on some unconscious level, they’re also a form of escape. Maybe they come from an imaginary, inner world, where things are different for Ralph. Where nothing is his fault, but everyone else’s. Where Melanie agreed to go out with him. Where Noah chose to leave because of his own shortcomings, his lack of loyalty - and not because of Ralph’s behavior, his choices.

This also might be why Ralph always tried to make it seem like if there was an extraneous, unwanted friend in the group, it wasn't him, but Noah.

Yeah. I have a feeling that Aiden is right on the money.

He blinks in surprise as I fix him with a warm smile.

“Thank you for your insight, babe.” I brush a kiss onto his cheek. “It was helpful. This all makes a lot more sense to me, now.”

“Oh.” Again, he looks surprised, but he matches my smile. “No problem. I’m glad it was.”

“At least I understand it a little bit more, even if it doesn’t excuse any of Ralph’s bullshit.”

“Right, but...” Aiden takes my hand, looks earnestly into my eyes. “Jamie.”

“I know." I rest my head on his shoulder. “I asked, I have an answer, and now I’m letting it go. I won’t do anything with this information, I promise. You know that I can’t lie.”

Aiden lets out a held breath, then draws me in closer.

“Thank you.” He presses a kiss onto my temple. “I already worry about you enough, alright?”

“You don’t have to do that,” I answer, starting to pull back.

Aiden locks his arms around me before I can get too far.

“Yes I do,” he says, in that firm, inarguable voice. “And either way, I can’t help it. I love you, so. Yeah.”

I smile to myself, tuck my head beneath his chin.

We’re still sitting like that when, a few minutes later, an unexpected voice disturbs the silence.

“Guys. Hey.”

I straighten up, caught by surprise. Kasey is standing by the open door of Aiden’s bedroom.

Aiden glances at me, then reaches into his pocket for the glasses.

“Hey,” Kasey says again, when we can both see and hear her. “Sorry to interrupt.”

“No, it’s okay.” Aiden gets to his feet, pulling me with him. “We’re glad you’re back.”

Kasey fixes him with a half-smile, but it drops away quickly. She looks very serious, I'm realizing.

“What’s going on?” I ask.

Kasey glances over her shoulder, then steps closer to us.

“It’s Will,” she says quietly. “We were just talking, and... he’s feeling more comfortable around us, now - not completely, obviously, but - when we talked-”

“Kasey,” I interrupt, anxious for whatever news she has. “What is it? What did Will say?”

Kasey twists her fingers together, then answers in a hushed voice.

“He’s ready to tell us how he died.”

~~~~

We put our jackets back on before we step out onto the porch, though we don't really need them. Aiden is still putting off heat. Snow gently melts around my Heliomancer as he steps out into the winter night.

Will is by the railing, and he turns when he hears our footsteps. He’s fidgeting with his suspenders, avoiding our eyes, but he seems to steady out a little as Kasey comes to stand by his side. He gives a nod of greeting to us, which we both return.

My remaining drowsiness has evaporated. We’ve been waiting for the real truth about Will’s death since day one of the hunt. We put some of the puzzle together, but there are still significant pieces missing.

Also, I'm a ghost hunter, so. This is exciting for me. Not every day an actual ghost tells you their death tale.

Will is clearly hesitant to start this off, so Kasey does it for him.

“Okay, Will,” she murmurs. “Here’s what we already know. Or - what we’ve guessed. Correct us if we’re wrong about anything. Firstly, you died while under the employ of the Newman & Starr timber company.”

Will nods slowly. “Yes.”

“We know that the founder, Richard Newman, was an extremely shady guy. To say the least.”

“A fuckster,” I put in, and a fleeting smile turns up Will’s lips.

“Decidedly so,” he says.

“And,” Kasey presses on, “We know that Newman hid a lot of his shady dealings from the key investor in the company, Joseph Starr. Our guess, Will, was that Newman asked you to do something underhanded. Something that would have caused Starr to pull his investment, if word got back to him. Hence the coverup.”

Will doesn’t respond to this, so Aiden picks up where Kasey left off.

“We know that Newman was desperate to buy land off of some local families, and they turned him down. We also know that they very suddenly changed their minds about that, and not because Newman offered them a better deal.”

There’s an awkward pause, and I finally say what everyone is thinking.

“Did you agree to intimidate those people off of their land, Will? And then die in the process?”

He doesn’t answer, but an old ache stirs in his green eyes.

“The incident report didn’t give us a full or accurate picture,” Aiden explains. “It only said that you were drowned and crushed to death in the river.”

There’s another pause.

“That part is true,” Will says quietly.

His hand drifts absently to his side. He realizes what he’s doing, and hastily lowers it again. He looks to Kasey, and she puts a hand on his arm.

“Tell us,” she says. “Whatever the real story is, we want to hear it.”

Will closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and finally looks up at us.

“It was September 2nd,” he begins. “The year was 1822.”