Lex jolted awake, chest tight.
The fan ticked above him, blades creaking like old bones. A chill crawled along his spine. For a moment, he didn't know what time it was. The room had that blue-black hush. Early enough that the sun hadn't committed yet, but too late to be called night.
His ears strained.
Footsteps?No.Just the apartment settling. Probably.
He sat up, rubbing the heel of his hand against his ribs. The fragment, tucked just beneath his skin, pulsed faintly. Not in pain. Not even warmth this time. Just… awareness.
His fingers hovered over the spot before pulling away.
The couch creaked beside him when he shifted. Rose's old spot. Even now, years later, he never sat right there. The cushions still bore her imprint.
Lex stood slowly and made his way to the sink. The apartment was a mess. Dishes from two nights ago. The air held that smell of damp cloth and metal. No mold yet, but close.
He splashed cold water on his face and stared into the cracked mirror. His reflection stared back, hollow-eyed, hair flattened from sleep, one side sticking out.
Behind him, the room was empty.
He kept glancing over his shoulder anyway.
An hour passed. Maybe two.
Lex sat at the edge of the couch, sharpening the blade with slow, rhythmic strokes. The fragment was locked away beneath him in a rusted metal box. That had felt safer. But now he wasn't so sure.
What if he needed it again?What if the next fight came sooner than expected?
He remembered how the blood had vanished into the fragment. How that voice whispered in his skull like instinct.Release.The word hadn't left his head since.
Lex exhaled and set the blade down.
A creak sounded from the hallway.
He froze.
Three knocks followed. Not frantic. Not casual. Just firm. Controlled.
Lex reached for the pipe beside the door. The one he always kept leaned against the umbrella stand, not that he owned an umbrella.
He opened the door a few inches, just enough to see who it was.
John stood there. Same coat. Same half-annoyed expression. The hallway bulb flickered behind him.
Lex didn't move.
"You know," he muttered, "you don't really need to knock if you can just vanish into thin air."
John shrugged and stepped inside anyway.
"Common decency," he said. "Scared people don't taste good."
Lex shut the door behind him, pipe still in hand just in case.
John glanced around the room like he was cataloging everything. The mess. The dust. The grief layered thick in the corners.
"You look like shit," he added.
"Thanks. I was aiming for haunted."
John tossed something onto the table. A paper bag, grease stains already soaking through.
"Brought food."
Lex eyed it. "You didn't have to."
"I know."
There was a beat of silence.
"You're watching me, aren't you?" Lex asked.
"Not always," John said. "But someone should."
Lex didn't answer. He picked at the corner of the table where the laminate was peeling. "You ever think about fixing things that are broken?"
John tilted his head. "You mean like you? Or this place?"
"Either."
John walked to the window and stared out. "Some things break because they're meant to. Others break to become something new."
Lex snorted. "That sounds like a bad tattoo."
John smiled. Just a little.
"You're changing," he said. "It's slow. But it's happening."
Lex didn't deny it. He felt it too. The way his body didn't ache quite the same. The strange clarity that came and went in flashes. How, sometimes, he could hear things in silence. Like a second heartbeat.
He stood and walked to the couch. His foot tapped the metal box beneath it.
"Do you know what it's turning into?"
John didn't answer.
Figures.
That night, Lex stood in front of the building and stared at the street.
The city hummed quietly. Neon signs buzzed and streetlights flickered above cracked pavement. The sky was still dark, but no longer silent.
Something was watching him. Not from the street. Not from a window. From somewhere else. Closer than it should be. Like it had always been there, just waiting for him to notice.
He felt it behind his ribs. Under his skin.
Crawling.
But this time, he didn't look away.This time, he watched back.