We didn't hear from Ames or the ghosts the rest of the day, giving us a nice reprieve from life's grave issues. After we loaded into the car, I commented about needing to find Devin some clothes to which he had replied by asking if I didn't like him wearing mine.

"Of course I don't mind," I had told him, to which he followed up by saying, "Alright, then let me borrow them until I start working and can buy my own."

Disregarding how 'not minding' didn't necessarily equate to wanting to share my wardrobe, I relented easily. I actually sort of liked the idea of him wearing my stuff and I didn't have any holdups if for us both wanting the same outfit on the same day either. Besides, we really did need money for food.

Because of my stay in the ward, this last paycheck was less than usual and there were now two mouths to feed for another week. If it had just been me, I could have made due with a few packs of ramen and a gallon of milk, but I really didn't want to stretch Devin thin...especially considering his huge appetite. My own appetite was starting to return as well, no doubt due to my recently uplifted mood. 

So we had gone to the grocery store and picked up a a lot cans, hot dogs, pasta, and a bag of potatoes. I literally spent everything I had except fourteen cents. Self-checkout was preferable to me since it meant less social contact and the whole time I was ringing things up, my heart was pounding for fear of not having enough money; my mind instantly began deciphering which things would be best to leave behind, should I exceed my limit.

Devin was idly hovering, never looking at the screen or even at me as I scanned the items, bagged, and paid for them. He did saunter over when I was finished and took every sack, carrying them out to the vehicle while ignoring my offer to assist. It was obvious he was trying to respect my privacy, which I greatly appreciated.

I really didn't want him to see me worrying over expenses because I knew if I were in his position, I'd feel guilty. I certainly didn't want him thinking he was a burden. It was also why I didn't make a big fuss about helping him carry what I had bought either. Around four pm, we had returned home where he helped me unload the groceries.

"You know, I'm pretty easy-going," he laughed when I asked what he wanted to do the rest of the evening, "You don't have to worry about keeping me entertained. I just appreciate you letting me stay here- feeding me and all."

"Sorry," I scratched the back of my neck, "I guess I'm not used to having guests is all."

"Hopefully your boss will hire me so I'll have a job and can pay rent," he continued, "That way you don't feel so obligated. I mean," he rotated to set sight on me, "If you still don't mind being roommates."

"Not at all. I just wish-" I stopped abruptly, realizing I was about to finish by saying you didn't have to sleep on the couch. My thought was that I wished there was another bedroom in the apartment, but in light of recent events, was afraid that it would be taken as an invitation to sleep with me and I hadn't quite thought about going that far with Devin yet.

"What's wrong?" he cocked his head to the side in confusion, setting the grocery sack in his hand back on the counter.

I shook my head and smiled, "I was just thinking it might be a good idea to upgrade to a two bedroom. Wouldn't feel right to charge rent when you're just sleeping on the sofa."

The man grinned deviously, making me feel as if he might have guessed what other thoughts about our arrangements had crossed my mind. He turned back around and kept unloading the food, "Makes sense, especially if that means you're more comfortable."

It was no doubt bait for me to reveal more so I forced myself not to speak at all for a while to be sure I didn't bring up a topic that I wasn't yet ready for. Devin didn't push either. He and I simply finished stocking the cabinets and retired to the living room to watch TV. After about an hour or so, though, yelling from next door interrupted us.

My first instinct was to just turn the volume up on the television. Living in cheap complexes had made me desensitized to such things and dealing with slumlords taught me that reporting did no good. However, Devin had a different approach. He grabbed the remote before I could and lowered its sound.

"This happens all the time," I assured him, "Just ignore it."

He cut his eyes at me, "What do you think they're fighting about? All I've heard is cunt this and bitch that."

"I don't know. I really don't care," I sighed and reached for the remote, which he simply moved out of my way, "Dev-" I started to complain, cut short by the voices in the compartment next to us getting even louder as they stepped out into the hall.

"YOU SHOULD BE! IT'S YOUR OWN GODDAMN FAULT!" the man growled at the woman who was sobbing loudly.

Devin stood from the couch and strolled determinedly up to the front door and began opening it. I tried calling his name again, but he ignored me.

"The fuck you lookin' at, boy?" the man's attention flew to Devin the moment the entry was clear.

Jesus fucking Christ. I jumped up from my seat and ran after my friend, placing hands on his shoulders and gently tugging, "Please just leave it alone," I pleaded.

I was just barely able to see a woman on the other side of my neighbor, crouched down and picking up what looked to be dresses that could only fit a small child. Tears were streaming over her cheeks and falling to the clothing; she hadn't taken any notice of us at all.

"Is this asshole hurting you?" Devin peered around the man that was huffing in front of him to ask the lady.

"It wasn't my fault!" she cried, finally looking up with a soaked face as she claimed the last article, "I had just checked on her! The house was locked! The windows were locked!"

"You fucking bitch!" my neighbor was facing her and belting again, "If you hadn't kicked me out, I would have been there to protect her!"

Just as the man took a forceful step closer to who was presumably his ex, Devin reached out and took firm hold of the angry father's arms and restrained him. My friend was instantly met with a struggle as the man's rage shifted direction from the woman on the floor and to the stranger holding him.

The guy was larger and older than both of us, yet Devin was apparently stronger. The two spun around in an uneven circle, rocking back and forth as each tried to keep their sway over the other.

I found myself backpedaling, not wanting to be part of the fight and at the same time wanting to help. I looked past them to see that the mother had risen and was on her way to the stairs, occasionally glancing over her shoulder, still crying. My sight found the other men again, "Devin! She's gone, just leave him alone."

The energy behind his eyes burned with rage and adrenaline as he cut them toward me, obviously hoping for a fight. I only made sure my own portrayed the sad plea rather than make him feel in any way that I was ordering him around as surely that would only increase his fury. He finally grunted, his  vision slitting while he simultaneously relented by letting go of the man and shoving him away.

The guy tried again to move on my friend, who simply stopped him altogether by landing a punch straight into his cheek. It was forceful enough to cause the man to lose his balance and hit the wall next to him, almost falling onto his ass.

"Calm the fuck down," Devin ordered, glaring for a few moments before spinning around to throw a hand over my shoulder and scoot the two of us back inside.

Only after we were safely behind a twice-locked door did I pull away from his friendly hold and plop myself onto the couch, my posture sullen.

"What's wrong?" he asked dumbly, keeping the same attitude he had during handling the arguing neighbors as he resumed his position next to me.

What's wrong? I repeated mockingly in my mind yet outwardly, only shook my head. Besides the fact he interjected himself into a fight needlessly, he had completely ignored anything I'd said; he hadn't take me into account. And on top of that, I had realized what the couple was fighting about: their daughter who had died in her sleep, thanks to me.

"Mark?" his voice became hushed his hand slunk onto my shoulder to rub it soothingly.

I immediately rose, tearing from the kind gesture and began walking to my bedroom, "I don't feel like this right now."

I actually expected him to rush after me, spin me around and say something to smooth things over. However, without ado, I made it to my mattress and hurled myself on top of it. Part of me was glad he didn't do anything to stop me so I could have time to think. There was another part that wished he had.

After a bit of consideration, I realized that second portion was my feeble-natured side; the one that had fallen so easily for him and what had been silently longing for love ever since Tyler had died. It was the same soft eagerness that had become mindlessly smitten with my past boyfriend...my deceased fiance.

But that wasn't what was important here, was it? People, children were dying. Innocence was being stolen, destroyed, because I had been stupid in my selfishness. Why was I letting him distract me from fixing this horrendous mistake? That fatal flaw. No, I couldn't do this. If there was something for me with Devin, it would have to wait. For now, McGraff was the only man who'd have my focus.

I don't know at when it happened, but I wound up asleep after tiring intervals of forcing my thoughts away from Devin, listening for any movement in the other rooms, and numbing my feelings. Although I should have used my free time in the dream realm to do something that would help bring our enemy down when I was finally able to find him, I once more was trapped inside my own memory. 

I knew I was there and yet I couldn't really remember what I had seen. I felt pain and fear; I sensed my father and kids from my school were amidst the confusing agony. However, as I awoke feeling nothing except dread and terror, I hadn't a good recollection of what I experienced during the nightmare. All I knew is that I woke landing a punch in Devin's throat like I had been struggling against him in my sleep.

"Mark! Mark!" the man called desperately, his voice having weakened from my blow, quickly regained its strength.

I inhaled sharply after the sensation of having my breath knocked out of me passed. My eyes shot wide and I could see Devin over me, a knee on either side of my thighs as he held me down by my wrists. I looked up at him, gasping for air, vision darting from him to the room around us in a fit of paranoia.

"Mark, try to breathe. Just breathe; it's ok," the man on top of me cooed through the clear disturbance in his own person. When he saw that I was with him, was understanding his words and trying to calm myself, he let go of my arms and crawled off to sit beside me on the bed.

"What-" I breathed, pulling myself into a seated position before resting him in my vision once again.

"I don't know, man," his brow furrowed in concern, "I was in the living room and heard you groaning. I came to the door and asked if you were ok, but you didn't say anything. Looked like you were asleep. I got closer and you screamed and started thrashing about like you were having a seizure or something. I was almost going to call the hospital until you sat up and punched me."

"I-" I shook my head, "I'm sorry. I...I know I've had really bad nightmares before, but I don't remember anything."

"Hey," he smiled reassuringly, ducking his head to prompt me to look at him, "It's okay. Are you okay?"

I nodded slowly despite uncertainty that I or anything else was truly alright. Typically, I had been alone when such bad sleeping spells hit. Once when I was a teenager, I woke up yelling, instantly scared to death that I had woken my dad.

Whether he was passed out from drinking, had left the house at some point during the night, or just didn't care to bother with me, I never knew. Instead of venturing from my room, I had laid in bed, forcing myself to be quiet and not fall back asleep.

The only instance of this Tyler had witnessed, we'd both been too strung out to remember how much of it had really happened and how much was due to a bad hit.

I recalled that both of us had gone a while since our last fix and were in pretty foul moods. We ended up with cheap dope from a dealer we didn't know.

"That's good," his grin fell and he gained a remorseful expression, "I'm sorry about earlier. I know I should have listened to you. It's just-"

"It's okay," I interrupted, "We both have our issues. What's important is right now, right?"

Staring blankly at my weakly smiling face, he blinked once before leaning in quickly and without warning to plant his lips on top of mine.