JAY

MY DOORBELL RANG and I ignored it.

It rang again and I refused to answer the call, snuggling deeper into my covers.

But then the person started ringing the bell in random and irritating tunes. I groaned and sat up, but the ringing stopped. I grinned and sank back down.

The ringing started again. Faster, louder and more annoying.

"Fine!" I screamed, pushing away the covers with my legs and exposing my body to the cold elements. I hoped that the person heard the rage in my tone and left.

"What do you- Wilson? What the hell are you doing here?" I asked, tilting my head in confusion at the woman leaning against the doorframe.

"Finally." She huffed, stepping over the threshold. "I've been ringing the bell for ages! Could you not hear me or something?"

"Could you not hear me or something?" I mimicked in a falsetto, irritated that her Highness had decided to enter my home uninvited. But then I noticed the various cuts and bruises and her torn clothes. I frowned. Did she get attacked? "You look worse than normal."

Wilson scoffed and leaned heavily against the wall. "Thanks. You really know how to flatter a girl." She slid down it and groaned, eyes fluttering close for a moment.

I rolled my eyes, ignoring the twinge of concern piercing my heart. "I'll go get a first aid kit. Don't move."

She waved. "I won't. Your floor is strangely comfortable."

I turned and went to the kitchen, pulling open a cupboard under the oven. It was almost empty- save for the dusty cans of tinned, and possibly expired, soup. I tried to avoid buying too much food because I was always on the move. Jammed in the corner was a small, white first aid kit with a faded red cross. I took it out and blew off the dust and coughed, my eyes watering.

"Here you go." I said, placing it next to her.

"Thanks." She nodded and opened it. I sat down opposite her and watched as Wilson applied the various ointments and creams.

"Did you fall off your crappy bike or something?" I asked, sleep addled my brain and all I could think of was my lovely warm bed back upstairs.

Wilson shot me a flat look. "Don't be stupid." She then proceeded to tell me how her friend- Analyst Keen- had tried to assassinate her. She launched into detail about the attack- which I am sure was exaggerated- and ended the epic saga with a lame 'so yeah...'

I pinched the bridge of my nose and exhaled sharply. "Holy crap."

"Holy crap indeed."

"Why did you come to my place? Am I really that trustworthy?"

"No offence Carter, but you're like second to last on the list of people I would trust. And that list includes people who tried to kill me."

"Harsh but fair."

Wilson shrugged. "Truth hurts."

"Then why did you come here if you hated me that much?"

"You were closer than the person I wanted to contact." Wilson sighed and leaned back. "Think Emma was the traitor of the Agency?"

I mimicked her position, my knee bouncing up and down as I accepted the fact that I would be getting no sleep tonight. "Most likely... you also said Emma was working for some boss? They could also be part of the Agency."

"Good theory. I think that we shouldn't go back to the Agency. At least not until all this clears up."

"We?" I raised an eyebrow. "There's no 'we' in this. This is a 'you' problem. Your mess. You clean it up. Now good day and good–"

Wilson scoffed. "It became our mess when Emma mentioned her Boss wanted to kill you too."

"What?" My eyes widened and I pushed myself up. "You didn't mention this earlier!"

"I didn't think it was important."

"You didn't think it was- oh forget it." I paced the corridor. "We need to leave. Like now. Chief sent the tickets, right? If we leave now, we can make it to–"

"Woah, woah, woah!" Wilson pulled herself up and winced, sinking back down. "I am in no condition to go anywhere right now. Besides, I need my stuff. We will leave at the appropriate time. There is no point in turning up like eight hours early for the flight."

As much as I hated to admit it, she was right.

I wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of saying that out loud- I would never hear the end of it- but I also didn't want to look stupid by arguing that point. So I opted for a neutral grunt.

Wilson rolled her eyes and stayed silent for a moment, seeming to fight a battle with herself. One side seemed to have triumphed over the other and she reluctantly tore her gaze from the floor to meet mine. "Carter... Since I am currently injured..."

"Yes?"

"Would you- I mean, do you- could you please go to my apartment, I'll give you the key, and in the living room- which is like twenty steps from the door–"

"I know where the living room is." My tone was frosty. "I've been to your home." When we were still friends. That's also how you knew where I live.

The unspoken words hung between us, coupled with the bittersweet memories- back when we felt like the world was on our side. I didn't dwell on the past. To get stuck in the past meant getting stuck in your head. And my head is not the best place to be stuck in- even for me.

"Right," Wilson said softly and cleared her throat. "So anyways, as you walk in the living room, under the sofa is a bag. Could you get that bag, please? It's got all my stuff in it. We can leave earlier after I've gotten it."

"Fine." I grabbed my keys, happy to grab at any opportunity that resulted in us leaving earlier. I tossed her a pillow and blanket. "Stay where you are. I don't want you to get blood everywhere."

I pulled open the door. The sun's rays peeked over the edge of the horizon, bathing the sky in ribbons of pink and gold. I squinted and drew into myself. The light... It's too bright. I kept my head down as I walked to the car.

I sat behind the wheel and slammed the door shut. The sound echoed in the silent morning. I pulled out of the driveway and started towards Wilson's home. During that time, my phone rang and 'THE DEVIL' lit up on the screen. I connected it to the car's Bluetooth and an irritating voice filled the vehicle.

"I need you to do me a favour."

"Hello dear brother!" I said sarcastically. "Yes, I am doing great, thanks for asking! How are you?"

"Cut it out, Jay," Nathan snapped. "I really need your help."

My eyebrows furrowed together. Nathan was never serious. "What's wrong?"

"Look, I know that when we were kids... I could've been nicer to you."

I snorted. "That's an understatement. You were constantly trying to kill me."

"That's not true!"

"When I was five, you shot me in the eye with a nerf gun. At seven, you told me you wanted to do an experiment with a saw and tried to cut my head off. At eight, you tried to DROWN me–"

"Hey, the pool incident was your fault!"

"It was at the beach."

"Oh... yeah, that was on me. Sorry." Nathan cleared his throat. "Okay, so. I really need your help."

I sighed. "With what?"

"For the last few years, I've been trying to look for someone. Someone important."

"Who?" I asked, trying to wrack my brain for any names, but I came up blank. Nathan didn't really care about a lot of people.

"It's- uh, it's not important. But I think I might have a lead. Do you know anyone who's good at hacking?"

My mind leapt to Wilson. "Yeah I do... but I highly doubt she will help me."

"I would use my guy but– never mind. It's not important. Could you ask her... please?" Nathan sounded... desperate? Who is this person he's looking for?

"Yeah sure, I'll ask her." I spotted Wilson's flat and parked in front of it. "Alright, Nate, I have to go. I'll call you if she agrees, okay?"

"'Kay... Try not to die, Jay."

"No promises." I ended the call and got out of the car, jogging to the front door.

The elevator was broken, so I sprinted up the stairs to Wilson's floor- a feat that left me embarrassingly winded- and walked past the rows and rows of rooms. Despite it being morning, the corridor was cloaked in darkness- the only light came from a dim bulb hanging from the ceiling.

I reached Wilson's door.

I realised that Wilson didn't give me the key. I frowned; my gaze flitted to the ledge above the door. I wonder if...'I reached up and felt my way across it, grinning when a small, metal object cooled my skin.

I unlocked the door and was immediately assaulted with the stench of blood.

I stood, frozen in shock, staring at the bloated and purple body supine in the hallway. Their face was slashed and mutilated. Flies buzzed around it hungrily, the incessant noise crashed around my skull and made it impossible to think. Blood was dried on the wooden floor, but some of it was still fresh and diffused away from the body.

I'd seen many bodies in my time as an Agent. Many, many gruesome murders and suicides. But it got easier after a while- easier to analyse and approximate the time of death. For this unfortunate person, I'd say the murder happened a few hours ago.

"Now I'm no doctor, but I think that guy is dead."

I started and looked up. A woman clad in black was standing at the very edge of the pool of blood. A large hat covered the top half of her face, but I could see her dark red lips curl up in a sinister smile.

I reached for the gun tucked in my waistband, panicking when I only grasped air. In my sleep-deprived state, I realised I had left my gun at home.

The woman laughed and waved her hand like she was swatting away a fly. "Don't worry, I am not going to kill you... I came here and found this man, already dead." Her eyes narrowed. "Do you know the owner of this flat?"

"Maybe." I said, shuffling around and keeping the dead body between us. "What are you doing here?"

She smiled and looked up. I was struck dumb by her contrasting irises. One was a bright, crazy blue, and the other was a deep, calm hazel. "Now, how is that any of your business?"

A heavy silence hung between us.

The woman sidestepped the body, wrinkling her nose in disgust, saying something under her breath. "...Stinks... Addy's gonna freak... kill him?" I really hope the last words weren't about me.

She looked at me. Tilted her head slightly. "I won't kill you... yet," she said in a decisive tone.

"Thanks?"

"No problem." With one last deranged smile, she brushed past me. I tried to see her down the dim hallway, but she had disappeared.

Unsure whether the woman was a figment of my imagination, I stepped over the body and retrieved the bag Wilson asked me to get for her. For a second, I contemplated calling the police, but I rejected that thought as soon as it appeared. The police would want to question me- they might even consider me a suspect as I really had no viable reason to be here. It would take time- which I could not afford to waste.

"I'm sorry," I whispered to the corpse as I left, shutting and locking the door behind me.

*****

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