Tyler froze, the cold tendrils of fear creeping up on him once again. "You did what?" His next question was "how did you know that was me?"

"You're not as good at covering your tracks as you thought," Spencer said. "I cleaned up after you left so there were no witnesses. I've got to say, though, you did well on those first two murders by yourself."

Seeing Spencer grin like a madman, just like Brendon used to during the three months they spent in the bunker, sent a wave of memories crashing down upon him. Tyler wanted to throw up. His stomach twisted up like his insides were about to eject themself out of his body.

No, this feeling was familiar, but it wasn't nausea. It was deeper, primitive, a natural instinct.

He wanted to kill Spencer.

With his finger on the pocket knife, Tyler stared Spencer down with as much rage as he could muster. "Why would you do that? Why not just let me get caught? It seems like the perfect revenge to do so."

"Did I ever turn Brendon in? Hell no," Spencer laughed, slipping the gun in the waistbands in his jeans. "I'm proposing that if you intend to keep up this 'cleansing the world of evil' spree, you might need someone to help you kill and keep your team off your scent."

It was Tyler's turn to laugh. "Yeah, right. I'm not a-" he couldn't even say it. "Killing those junkies was an accident."

"But Parrish wasn't."

Spencer wasn't wrong. Brendon clicked his tongue, walking rounds around Spencer. He grinned and nodded his head at Tyler, making a gun with his hands and putting it against his own head.

"Killing makes me and all the little ghosts in your head disappear," he whispered, although it sounded like it came from behind him. "Take his deal."

"What's in it for you?" Tyler asked, still on guard but actually considering his offer.

Spencer held his hands out. "I get to kill when you're not around, because if you keep killing the way you are now, they're bound to catch you."

"I'm smarter than you think."

"Not when you kill. You geniuses are messy and impulsive. That's why Brendon kept me around."

Tyler pulled the knife out, and Spencer just glanced down at it, looking bored. "How do I know you're not lying and that this whole thing is a ploy to kill me?"

"Because if it was, I would've brought shot you in the elevator when I had the chance," Spencer said.

Even though Tyler wasn't completely convinced, the only reservation for not saying no was his team. He couldn't keep this up. Tyler could already feel himself slipping away, both his memories and his inhibitions. Killing would only make it worse.

But the thought of draining the life from someone evil, the feeling of blood on his hands again, of being in control, of not feeling helpless, that was enough for him to say-

"When do we start?"

—

Josh was still asleep when Tyler came back a couple hours later, snoring on his bed with Jim and Ned curled up against him. Tyler smiled to himself at the scene, setting the pizza box on the kitchen counter and heading towards the sink to wash the blood from his hands.

He must've woken Josh up when he came in, because he saw him trudge from the bedroom to the kitchen, his eyes not even open yet.

"Ty?" He called out, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and blinking hard.

"Sorry if I woke you," Tyler said, turning the tap off and wiping his hands on the kitchen towel. "I bought lunch. Or dinner. Or dunch."

"Papa John's or Domino's?" Josh was sniffing the air like a hound dog, making Tyler laugh.

"Papa John's."

Josh hummed and came around to stand behind Tyler, wrapping his arms around his waist and setting his chin on his shoulder. Tyler leaned his head against Josh's. "I'm not hungry. Come back to bed, it's almost six thirty."

"Food, then bed," Tyler said, walking him and his koala of a fiancé over to where he'd set the pizza and buffalo wings. "We haven't eaten since breakfast."

"How many days you we get to be lazy together, baby?" Josh whined, pulling himself closer to Tyler and burying his nose in the crook of his neck.

Tyler peeled Josh's arms away of him and turned, resting them on his shoulders. "As of right now, 43 days, not counting today."

"Fucking robot," Josh sighed affectionately. "Have I told you lately that I love you and your stupid superpower of being too damn smart?"

"You just did. I love you too."

They end up eating the pizza in bed while rewinding back four episodes of the Netflix show they'd been watching to when Josh fell asleep. Tyler remembered the exact moment.

Just like he remembered stabbing the drug dealer Spencer tracked down to death, and not feeling helpless for the first time in six weeks.

The next six weeks would be easy.