5.9
Landis can’t stop replaying the conversation with Naberius in his head, no matter how hard he tries to think of other things on his way to the apartment complex. He slips through the door to the lobby, eyebrows furrowed in thought, watching his shoes as they move across the floor. Did I do the right thing sending him after Austin? What if he’s not really from the Department? I should have asked to see if he was carrying a badge or something…do they even have badges? Austin would probably know. Or maybe Walker -
Someone coming down the stairs careens into him, and Landis wheezes softly, reeling backwards as he feels the wind leave his body.
“Watch it,” his assailant grunts in a familiar voice, and immediately follows it up with, “Oh my God, Landis, I’m sorry. Uh, are you okay?”
Landis blinks at Austin, forcing a laugh as he straightens back up. “No worries. I probably should’ve been looking where I was going.” He looks up towards Mal. “Or someone could have warned me.”
“Hey, the fact that neither of you can get out of each other’s way isn’t my problem.” Mal shrugs noncommittally, smirking. Landis chooses not to entertain the remark with any sort of retort, and focuses his attention back on Austin instead.
“I thought you were working today.”
“Monty pulled me out of the library to help with a case,” Austin says. His voice is strained - everything about him seems anxious, like he’s vibrating with energy. Landis wonders if he should just let Austin go instead of standing here chatting him up. “A bunch of teenagers got attacked in the mine tunnels, during some party.”
Landis covers his mouth with a hand reflexively. The mine? I wonder if it was in the same tunnel…
“I’m going to the trails to figure out where the thing that attacked them is,” Austin continues, “and to try and get rid of it. If I can.”
“You’re going by yourself?”
Austin’s eyes narrow in a look that means he’s already had this argument with someone else, maybe multiple people, and Landis instantly regrets asking. He’s about to tell Austin “never mind”, but Austin cuts him off before he can even open his mouth.
“I’ll be fine.”
“Okay,” Landis concedes, rubbing the scar on his arm nervously. “I mean - I know you will be. But - just - be careful out there, okay? We don’t know what this thing is, and you said it attacked people, so -”
“I’ll be fine,” Austin repeats, through clenched teeth.
“Okay,” Landis says again, softly, deciding that it’s probably a good time to back off. He sidesteps Austin and starts to head up the stairs. He hears Austin’s footsteps start to recede, too, towards the lobby doors.
“By the way,” Mal says, and Austin’s footsteps stop abruptly, “we met a friend of yours.”
Austin is quiet for a moment, then says “Who?”
“I, uh, don’t know if you actually know him or not, but he said he was from the Department.” Landis’s voice is carefully apologetic. Austin’s clearly already worked up over something or other, so it won’t do to get him even more upset. “Really tall guy, long, black hair that’s kind of buzzed short on one side. He said he’s here investigating the, uh, death of the demon that was in the lake. Crocell, I think he called it? I told him you were possessed by whatever it was, and he seemed pretty keen on talking to you.”
“Are you sure he was from the Department?” Austin asks slowly.
“Well, no, not really. But he didn’t seem harmful. He just wanted to know more about the whole…lake situation.”
“Okay,” Austin says, exhaling loudly. “I’ll take care of that whenever I see this guy, then. He better not be some other babysitter Jacob sent after me.”
His footsteps start up again, but Landis stays still on the stairs, listening to the door hinge squeaking as Austin opens it. The sound of the door swinging shut doesn’t come as soon after as he expects it to, and he looks over his shoulder. Austin is still standing there, his head down, hand on the glass door. He picks his head up to look at Landis, and shoots him a smile that has nothing of substance behind it.
“I’ll see you later, okay?”
He’s gone before Landis can think of how to respond. An uneasy feeling of dread starts to pool in Landis’s stomach, but he does his best to ignore it as he climbs the stairs, drawing his apartment keys out of his pocket. He tries the doorknob before sticking the key in it, and finds it surprisingly unlocked. Maybe Austin forgot? He looked like he was in a hurry.
“Did you come to apologize?” Otter asks loudly from the kitchen, as soon as Landis shuts the door behind him. Landis’s heart jumps in his chest - he’d forgotten it was Otter’s day off.
“For what?” he asks quietly, uncertainly, racking his brain for what Otter could possibly be expecting him to apologize for. He can’t think of anything in recent memory that Otter might be upset about. I guess I drank the last hard lemonade that was in the fridge? I didn’t think that was going to cause drama.
“Landis?” Otter asks. He sounds a little less confrontational this time.
“Yeah?”
“Oh,” Otter says. “I thought you were Austin.”
Oh. Landis walks over to stand in the doorway of the kitchen. Otter is sitting at the table, staring down at it, but raises his eyes and gives Landis a smile as forced as the one he got from Austin just a minute ago. Otter’s eyes are red-rimmed, and there are streaks on his face that might be from tears.
“Did you have a fight with him?” Landis asks, wondering if it’s an indelicate line of questioning. Even after more than two years, he still sometimes feels like a third wheel to Otter and Austin, an observer to a relationship he doesn’t belong in.
Otter nods slowly. “I told him I didn’t want him to go back to the mine shaft - not on his own, at least - and he stormed out.”
“I saw him in the lobby,” Landis says. He takes a seat at the table, across from Otter. “He seemed kind of…frustrated, I guess.”
“I just worry about him.” Otter sighs. “He throws himself into these dangerous situations without thinking about himself or anyone else, and - and it’s going to get him k-killed.”
A tear slides down his face and drips off of his chin. He swipes at it angrily. Instinctively, Landis reaches across the table and puts a comforting hand on Otter’s wrist. He’s half-expecting Otter to recoil, or scold him for doing it, but Otter doesn’t so much as twitch. His skin is soft and warm under Landis’s fingertips.
“Sorry,” Otter says, his voice thick. He’s still wiping his face with his other hand. “I didn’t mean for you to have to come home to this, but, uh, I hope your day’s been good, at least.”
Landis smiles wryly. “I’m helping Grace track down a ghost killer, so it could be better.”
“A ghost killer?” Otter sniffles a little. “Like the ghost of a killer, or someone who kills ghosts?”
“The latter, we think. But maybe both.”
Landis hesitates, his fingers still clasped loosely around Otter’s wrist. He knows he only came back to the apartment to get a change of clothes, and his car, but he doesn’t feel right leaving Otter here by himself. Landis knows what it’s like to be alone and wallowing in sad, angry thoughts, or worrying about someone else.
But why would he go anywhere with you? a voice in the back of his mind asks smugly. The last time the two of you did anything together, Otter got possessed, and you almost died. He’d probably rather be alone than go on a stupid ghost hunt.
Landis swallows. “Uh, do you feel like coming along to the station? I’m supposed to meet Grace and some others there, but -”
“You don’t have to invite me just because you feel sorry for me,” Otter says.
“I-I’m not.” Landis can feel heat rushing to his face, and looks away from Otter. “I just don’t want to leave you alone, is all. I’m worried about Austin too and - and sometimes it helps to have something else to do.” He pauses. “You don’t have to come if you don’t want, but I thought I’d offer.”
Otter is quiet for a while, then slides his wrist out of Landis’s grip and stands up from the table. “Yeah. Okay, I’ll come.”
Landis looks up at him. “You’re sure?”
“You’re right. I could use a distraction.” Otter wipes his face again, with both hands, and smiles a little more genuinely. “You know, we really have to stop this thing where we only hang out when occult bullshit is involved. Maybe take me out to dinner next time, without any blood sacrifices or ghost murder.”
It startles a laugh out of Landis. His face feels very, very warm, now, and he chokes out what he hopes is a comprehensible excuse to leave the table, scrambling for the closet to get a change of clothes. He can hear Otter changing and washing up in the bathroom as he changes in the hall, and leans up against the wall when he’s done, closing his eyes.
“He can’t even see ghosts,” Mal says derisively, somewhere close by.
“He can touch you, though,” Landis says. “And he and Danton got rid of the lake for good, so that’s something. I think he’ll be fine.” Opening his eyes, deciding to give Otter one more opportunity for an out, he raises his voice in the direction of the bedroom. “Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be,” Otter says, opening the door. He’s changed out of his scrubs into jeans and a tank top that shows off his freckled arms, a pair of sunglasses nestled into his unruly hair. He grins at Landis. “Let’s go hunt a ghost, or whatever.”