Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Kowalsky had never thought his life would turn out this way. So desperate for money, he’d do anything, even things he swore he’d never do again. But yet… here he was. In the early evening by a dark windowed apartment building, planning to enter it to clean up after his friend.

He parked his car close to the building and stepped out, the graveled path giving out sound from beneath him as he walked across it to the back of his car and in his truck where he could get his tools. Got a mop on his back, plastic bags in his pockets, and a bucket with soaps and sponges hanging from his gloved hand.

Suddenly something vibrates from his back pocket, causing Kowalsky to jump and quickly fish out his phone, seeing who was calling and sighed with irritation.

“I’m here, Tyler. Now, where are you ?” He spoke, being met with a lot of unrecognizable background noise on the other end.

“I’m not there… Sorry,” Tyler admitted. At that moment Kowalsky’s eye twitched in rage, but he contained his yelling for later, when he wasn’t as close to a crime scene as he is now.

“You… are what ?” Kowalsky asked for him to repeat himself, having a sliver of hope that Tyler was either joking, or had misspoken. Yet, he knew what the answer really was.

“Sorry man, I really needed to bail. I had to be cautious.” The younger man explained.

“Tyler we had a deal,” Kowalsky put all his gear on the ground and leaned against the car. “You make a mess, you-”

“Fix it, I know Man! Just, fuck…” Tyler calmed himself. “I couldn’t be in there any longer. I didn’t wanna leave any more traces of myself than I already did.
And besides, I wouldn’t wanna get in your way.” He excused himself, however Kowalsky knew the real reason.

“You just didn’t wanna hear my cleaning puns, is that it?” Kowalsky asked.

“... They’re pretty bad, man. Sorry." Tyler admitted. Kowalsky knew his puns were bad, but to the point of completely fleeing a crime scene just to avoid them? Tyler had another reason. “Listen, It’s apartment number 23, I hid the key next to the door, can’t miss it. And as promised, money’s inside.”

“So you can pay me to clean up after you, but not your drug debt?”

“Bye.” Tyler hung up in a hurry and Kowalsky could only shake his head in disappointment. This kid will be the death of him. Tyler was young, but he wasn’t a kid, yet Kowalsky couldn’t stop thinking of him as anything other than that. Just like a 12 year old kid who thought lighters were a fun toy.
Kowalsky dropped his phone onto the passenger seat, then shut and locked the car door.

“Good idea Paul, have a kid and teach him your life lesson, no need for him to learn them though,” Kowalsky muttered to himself as he picked his tools up again and began to walk into the building. Although Kowalsky missed his friend, he was a bit annoyed he wasn’t here to help his own son, but then again, what was Kowalsky gonna do tonight anyways? Might as well earn a couple of stacks. He would also have to see what other objects lay around that could serve him some potential. He would have loved to live his life alongside the law, but the law wasn’t putting food on the table, seeing as he was on his way up the stairs to something he hasn’t seen in a while. 

Desperation. Panic. Fear.

And all the emotions leading to a murder.

He could feel the dread with each step he took up the stairs, the only thing in the air being the faint bird screams from outside. That was good, no close running cars or drunk university students stumbling over rocks and knocking over trash cans.
He didn't want to do this, but it had come to a point he’d do almost anything.

After looking for the key outside apartment 23 for a bit, he finally found the key, hidden under a box. It seemed like Tyler got rid of an unpopular guy as he had complaints written on paper and taped to his doorframe.

“They will sleep like babies tonight,” Kowalsky commented after having read the piece of paper and tossed it into a plastic bag.
Opening the door, Kowalsky needed a second to take it all in. First thing he saw was an apartment. It was pretty ok looking. Better than his own, which fueled his irritation. Second thing he saw was blood. Lots of it. On the walls, on the floor, and worst place, on the carpet. At that sight he audibly groaned.

Before he even started to clean he dropped his stuff to find the money Tyler had promised. It was here somewhere.
As he investigated further, he had a hard time believing what he saw. Has Tyler of all people caused such a mess? It looked like they wrestled in every room. Come to think of it, had Tyler been harmed? Kowalsky figured he’d check after cleaning up. Tyler could patch himself up. Though, not without crying.

He stumbled upon the body in the kitchen, with a recognizable knife placed in the middle of its back. Guy’s name was Rob, and he didn’t look like too much of a threat. Well, maybe if you had bad ankles he could kick those, but other than that you would have a good fighting chance against the guy.
It had been a while since Kowalsky saw a dead body, a decently fresh one at that. His eyes were open, but they had no life left in them. Just windows to a once breathing and living being.
Kowalsky grabbed the handle and pulled the knife out. Analyzing it and seeing a “T” carved into the metal end at the bottom.
“It was probably for the best that he got out of here in a hurry, otherwise he’d accidentally write “Tyler was here” in big bold letters on the wall with blood,” Kowalsky tried to humor himself, but really nothing about this situation was funny to him. 

Opening the door next to the body, he saw what he was looking for. A freshly placed envelope from Tyler, with Kowalsky’s money inside of it.

“Bingo,” he picked the envelope up, pulled the money out, and started counting and checking them. Tyler wouldn’t try to trick him, but then again, the kid had changed over the years.
The bills were real, and many. A good total of 5000 dollars. They’d help a ton, but Kowalsky needed more.
A sudden substance dripped from the ceiling and landed on Kowalsky’s cheek and quickly ran down into his unkempt graying stubble. He really needed to shave, he thought. He touched his cheek where the liquid had run down, and his black gloves shone a faint red in the light.

“... Blood?” he asked, looking up at the ceiling latch. How could that be? Did they fight up there as well?
Great, he thought. Another room for me to clean-
He stopped his train of thought as he pulled the latch down and something heavy sounding fell along the steps. Kowalsky didn’t react quickly enough and got bodied, hitting the floor with a loud thump.

“... Ow,” he groaned with his eyes closed. Thinking of a better place to be.
When he opened them again, he wished he hadn’t. He was looking into another pair of eyes that previously had life in them. The body of a younger woman had fallen down from the attic as he had opened it, and crashed upon him.
Tyler didn’t mention her, or anyone else. Kowalsky took a deep breath and pushed her off him.

“Sorry,” he apologized to the deceased. She smelled… rotting. She had been up there for at least a few days. He gave the guy a nasty side eye. “You sick fuck.” he spat the words as if it was venom. The guy couldn’t hear him, but Kowalsky wished he had. Then he could chew him out, but that was too late now.
Climbing up the ladder and taking a peek in the attic, a nervous feeling grew in his stomach. The guy was growing what seemed to be weed in his attic, but Kowalsky didn’t pay it any attention.

“Let’s see if you have any more skeletons in your closet, or you know, in your attic,” Kowalsky felt slightly proud of his cleverly thought out joke, only slightly. “... god I’m glad no one heard that,”
He walked through the weirdly lit green room and into what he could only describe as the guy’s art studio.

“Really? A third body? I’m not getting paid enough for this shit.” This time, it had been strung up by the ceiling in front of a big white canvas that spread to the floor to catch the blood running down. Around the room were smaller canvases with blood drawings hung up on the walls.

“How… distasteful,” Kowalsky muttered. He preferred crime scenes where the bodies were just murdered, not them having been around for another person’s entertainment and joy. That was just a bit too unsettling for him.
Worst of all, he couldn’t report these girls to the police. He’s sure they have been put up as missing, but what was he gonna say? Oh yeah officers I just found them while cleaning up the murder of their killer . Yeah, what a great idea.
Oh well, the only thing he could do now was take their bodies down, and then he could start his actual job. Cleaning this whole place.

-------

Wow. He hadn’t done that in a while. At first he thought he’d spend more time doing this, but he was rather quick. Guess all his years as a janitor had him keep up with his skills. He had gotten all his trash and body bags into the truck of his car, had swept up all the blood, maybe taken a few valuables, and made the apartment seem untouched. In total, he guessed he had taken around 5000 extra dollars worth of stuff he could sell or pawn off. He knew a couple of people who’d be willing to put a price on it.

He had stopped by the landfill out of time and dumped his bags in the dumpster. As for the bodies, well…
First he drove to a farm owned by a guy he knows. He had a couple of pig stalls around it, and Kowalsky dropped the guy’s body in there. Letting the pigs take care of him. At least the guy would be with his people.

He thought the girls at least could get a proper burial of some kind, or could at least get found. They didn’t ask for this. Their families must be worried sick.
He stopped at a resting stop on the way back to the city that had a couple of benches, a playground and a toilet house. He got the girls in there and wrote on a piece of paper with the clearest and biggest handwriting, before driving off: DO NOT GO IN. CALL 911 .

“My job here is done.” Kowalsky said, letting out a sigh of relief as he spoke. The only thing left was to text Tyler saying everything had been taken care of, and then head home and get some deserved sleep.

He got home and closed his garage door and could hear Dexter let out small barks near the door and scratched it in hopes of getting it open.
Kowalsky chuckled. “I’m coming, Dexter, I’m coming.” He opened the door to a medium sized German shepherd eagerly awaiting him as he quickly started sniffing him.

“Hi buddy, how’ve you been?” He asked as he started to pet his dog. “Been at any crime scenes lately? Hope you haven’t left as much fur in those places as you do at home,”

Dexter didn’t understand him but leaned into his touch. Kowalsky gave him some final pats on the head before he closed the door behind him and made his way into his overflowing kitchen, trying his best to ignore the bills spread across the couch table. He looked in the dimly lit fridge to see if there was a late night snack for him before he would head to bed. He settled on an apple as he didn’t really have the energy for cleaning dishes. He fished his phone back out as he took a bite of his apple to see if Tyler had texted him.

He expected a “thank you” or a “I'm sorry for the inconvenience” but the kid hadn’t even read it. That might be fair, it is late, but Kowalsky doubted that Tyler could sleep after mere hours of taking a human’s life. He tried texting again, asking for him but nothing. He would then try to call him twice, maybe to wake him up if he was sleeping, but still nothing. It would just keep on ringing and ringing. Kowalsky finally gave up. He would call Tyler in the morning then.

------------

Kowalsky drowsily opened his once sleeping eyes to the sound of his phone vibrating and ringing. Dexter perked his head up from next to Kowalsky on the bed, glancing over at the phone on the nightstand.
Kowalsky let out a big sigh and stretched his arms over to try and reach his phone. After a few attempts he finally got it in his hand and clicked on the pick up button.

“Hello?” he groaned as a greeting.

“Hey man, sorry to bother,” It was Tyler. Calling at fucking- 7am? Kowalsky hadn’t bothered to remember what time he went to bed that night, and it felt like he’d only been sleeping for maybe an hour. “I’ve got some good news, and some bad news,”

“Your bad news better be better than yesterday’s news Tyler,” Kowalsky warned.

“... You will be the judge of that,” Tyler explained. “See, uh, Rob’s boss found out about what we did.”

“That can't be good.”

“He’s the scariest guy I know.” Tyler proclaimed. Kowalsky rubbed his temples, annoyed at what Tyler had gotten him into. “But! Here comes the good news,”

“What good news can come out of this, Tyler?” Kowalsky raised his voice a bit when asking the question, which caused Dexter to get up and get all up in Kowalsky’s face for affection. “Dexter stop-”

“He’s not mad, at all! In fact, after what happened, he said he’s interested in hiring the both of us!” Tyler exclaimed, sounding happy over the phone. However Kowalsky was far from overjoyed.

“A drug dealer and murderer’s boss is interested in hiring us? That’s good news to you?” he asked. The more information Tyler spewed, the more nervous he became. Nothing about what happened today was good. Sure he got some money out of it, but he’s not really happy about the way he went about it. 

“It’s better than him killing us in our sleep, right? Think about it man. He wants to hire you, more money! So what if it's working for a mob boss.”

“... a fucking mob boss?  Tyler… You got me involved with the fucking mob!?” Now Kowalsky sat at the edge of the bed in anger, with Dexter beside him.

“I’m sorry man, I didn’t think I had any other options! You were the first person I thought of,” Tyler took a deep breath. “Listen, Big Jim said he’s impressed by your skills and-”

“Who?”

“Oh, that was Rob’s boss,”

Kowalsky ran the name through his head one more time to let it sink in. Big Jim , more like Big pain in my ass.

“Anyways, he said he’d reach out to you soon.”

“You gave him my information?! Tyler if this wasn’t a phone call I would-”

“Kill me? Yeah I know,”

“... I know where you live, remember that,” Kowalsky threatened. Not that he’d ever hurt Tyler to the point of murder, but he wanted him to know the full extent of his anger at the moment.

“He and I were talking earlier this morning, a bit after you left Rob’s place I think,” So that was why he wasn’t answering him, Kowalsky concluded. “So just, be prepared for a phone call of any sort. He doesn’t do text messages. Okay bye.” Tyler hung up the call, and Kowalsky was left in disbelief at what he had been told. And now, he couldn’t go back to sleep.

He figured he’d just get up and start his day, so he went to the bathroom to take a wake up shower, and walked past the mildly dirty mirror. Seeing his reflection once more and seeing how far he had come from how he once appeared. More wrinkles around his eyes and forehead, and his short hair that had grayed seem to have traveled down his unkempt stubble. His figure had also suffered in recent years. He used to be a decently muscular guy, and still somewhat is but it’s not noticeable. He had also gained a bit of weight, and he disliked it whenever he had to take his shirts off. However, it wouldn’t get him far if he showered with it on.

Dexter laid on the floor while waiting for Kowalsky to be done drying off. Looking up at him with pleading puppy eyes.
Kowalsky chuckled. “Don’t worry boy, we’ll go on a walk soon enough,” he said as he put on some fresh clothes consisting of a plain gray button up and some dark dress pants. It was always his go to, as he didn’t really like to dress in bright colors.

They both walked into the kitchen and Kowalsky put two pieces of bread in the toaster, and poured Dexter some breakfast, who went over to his bowl quickly and started eating it up.

“Hungry boy?” Kowalsky asked and gave Dexter a scratch on his back. The dog didn’t respond as he was busy with his meal. Before Kowalsky could get any food in his mouth, his phone rang. 

Oh god. Who was it? Tyler?
He picked his phone up, and saw an unknown phone number.
Oh no, oh no no no.
This wasn’t happening. 

He pressed the pick up button, not thinking he had any other choice, and held it up to his ear and swallowed. “Hello?”

“Who am I talking to?” The voice on the other side spoke, making Kowalsky’s neck hair stand up. The guy had a deep and raspy voice, with an accent he couldn’t quite pinpoint. His guess was from somewhere in Europe.

“It’s Kowalsky. Who are you?”

“My friends call me Jim, others call me Big Jim.”
That was him. Rob’s boss. The scariest guy Tyler knew. Although the guy certainly had a scary rumor, and had a nice matching voice, Kowalsky figured he wouldn’t let the guy hear his nervousness.

“Oh yeah, Tyler mentioned you. Said you might hire me,”

“Ah, little bud already spill my beans?” He asked, sounding amused.

“Seems like it. Hope you aren’t mad at him for that,”

“Mad? Nah nah nah. Tyler helped me out a bit, so I can forgive him for that. That guy you took care of, Rob, he used to push my products but as you saw, he had a freaky hobby so I was gonna let him go anyways, so you’re both in the clear, no sweat.” Jim explained, which calmed Kowalsky’s nerves a bit. As he spoke, Kowalsky could make out the guy’s accent came from Italy. So he was a good ol’ fashion mob boss. Terrific.

“Well, that’s some good news.” Kowalsky spoke. “Would hate for you to be angry at us,”

“At you two? Nah, not with those talents of yours. I saw what you did in his place, and I must say,” Jim paused and chuckled. “I’m impressed,”

“Oh?”

“I’ve never seen that shitden look better,”

“Glad to help,” Kowalsky said, which caused Jim to suddenly become quiet for a few seconds. Did he piss him off somehow?

“... Now, here’s the deal bud. I see use in your skills so I want you to wipe away all the bloody footprints I leave behind, and if you don't, I’ll have someone else clean it up alongside your body. Understand?”
His question was much more of a threat. Work for me, or die. Kowalsky got that part.

“Understood,”

“Oh… You can be more polite than that,” Jim urged. Kowalsky took a quick deep breath.

“Understood sir.”

“Good. Now, I’ll keep in touch. Before you’ll be fully employed, I’ll be sending you out on a test,”

“You’ll kill people just to send me on a test?” Kowalsky asked, realizing how stupid his question may have been. He could hear Jim give a short laugh from the other side.

“I’ll send you the details later.” and with that, Big Jim hung up the phone. It took Kowalsky a while before he lowered the phone, as he realized he had frozen in place while on the call with Jim. When he put his phone on the table he noticed how his hands were shaking. That was one of the more intense phone calls he’d done in a while.
While not exactly threatening, it was very much implied. 

The toaster popped the crispy bread pieces up with a loud ping that had Dexter’s ears stand tall. Kowalsky didn’t even seem to have heard it, as he wandered away and down the hall to the room at the end of it. He turned the cold door knob that had collected dust and flicked the lights on in the room, which filled him back with memories as he saw the small bed, alongside a small desk and office chair with pink stickers on it.

He gently sat down on the bed and grabbed one of the plushies by the pillow. He looked at a light brown bunny plush with a blue ribbon around its neck. He lightly squeezed its paw and an old voice box spoke within the fur.
“ I love you dad ,”

Kowalsky hung his head in defeat.
“ Ja pierdolę ,” he muttered as Dexter came up from behind him to join Kowalsky sitting in his daughter’s room.

Chapter Text

Kowalsky gave himself a friendly reminder to not help Tyler next time he calls in the evening saying he “made a bit of a mess.” because apparently, by then, Kowalsky would already be involved. He just wanted to help a kid out, to repay a friend. His life really couldn’t have turned out better.

Kowalsky’s depressing thoughts continued as he was fixing a lamp in the hallway, at the top of his ladder since the architect thought it would be smart to make the ceiling almost twice his size tall.
The whole day he couldn’t stop thinking about what Big Jim had told him the other day, about him needing to get sent out on a test. What did that entail? When exactly? The anticipation was killing him.

“Morning Mr. Kowalsky,” A woman’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

“Oh, good morning Principal Palmer,” Kowalsky greeted and put the light back in its place and stepped down the ladder.

“How have you been?” She asked innocently. Kowalsky wondered how she dared to start out with that question and froze for a second before answering.

“Well enough.”

“That’s great to hear. We all hope your daughter will have a quick recovery,” she spoke. Kowalsky avoided eye contact and his grasp of the side of the ladder tightened, preparing himself to muster up the courage.
Principal Palmer was about to walk away from him, but when he spoke he managed to make her stop.

“Principal Palmer, I had a question,” he confessed. Palmer’s shoulders fell, almost as a sigh. “If I could just borrow two minutes of your time-”

“I’m gonna have to stop you right there Kowalsky,” The principal interrupted. “I know what you’re gonna ask and I hate to keep telling you this but the answer is, I’m sorry but we are unable to give you a raise or a bonus due to the school’s lack of funds. We understand your circumstance and we all feel for you, but we are sadly unable to fulfill your request,” The principal had turned around to look Kowalsky in the eyes as she spoke, and as she finished she couldn’t quite figure out what expression was on his face. Anger? Sadness? No matter what it was she hated to look at it, as it made her feel bad, but it was true. The school truly had low funds, as Kowalsky often had to bring his own tools from home as the school had to focus its money elsewhere. “I am sorry Kowalsky. Have a great day,” and with that, Palmer turned on her heels and walked away. Leaving Kowalsky standing by his ladder and newly fixed light.

-----------

He has to be quick, and he has to be thorough. He couldn’t spend multiple hours here.

Big Jim had finally called and gave out more information of Kowalsky’s test that was gonna happen… that night.
Kowalsky had quickly gathered up all his tools and headed towards the location he had been sent. It was an interesting test location. A wellness center, apparently owned by Big Jim’s cousin, Mike. Or in this case, was owned by Mike. Before Kowalsky entered the building he remembered Jim saying he left a few things out for him. The first thing he could see was an envelope. Kowalsky slowly opened it up to reveal the real bills inside, and he felt excited for once. There were too many for him to start counting.

The second thing that had been left out by him was a walkie talkie. Probably a good idea since Kowalsky had ditched his phone at home to avoid it being a possible clue as to his location if he ever were to get suspected for anything.
He picked the walkie up and turned it on. Full battery and everything.

“Hello?” he spoke through it.

Nothing.

Kowalsky thought of it as odd but kept it with him anyways, letting it hang from his belt. He entered the building and made his way over to the elevator, and down to the bottom level.
As the relaxing elevator music played, a sick feel of dread started growing in his stomach, but he didn’t really have much of a choice now.
Suddenly an abrupt static noise came from his belt.

“Good evening Mr. Kowalsky, ” That voice had become recognizable for Kowalsky. He had only had two conversations with this man, however his voice was now forever ingrained in his mind. “ Don’t tell me you died on the way down now, ” Jim teased. Kowalsky then realized he had forgotten to respond.

“Sorry, I’m here, don't worry,” he spoke back.

“Good, the first thing I want you to do is to tie something around that speaking button. Anything you say, I will hear, and anything you do, I will see. ” he explained. Kowalsky didn’t figure the place would have security cameras, but then again, the guy was Jim’s cousin, which already told him all he needed to know.

He tied a quick rope around the walkie talkie and reported back to Jim. “Done,”

“Welcome to what was previously Mike’s Wellness Center, ” He introduced, as the elevator stopped and the doors pinged, letting Kowalsky take in the sight before him, and it wasn’t pretty. The elevator stopped in a waiting area with couches on each side plus a body wagon of sorts, and on the other end of where Kowalsky was standing was a panel of glass doors, with blood splattered over them, skewing his vision to the other side. “Since Mike’s abrupt passing the business has now fallen into my hands and I have plans for it, but first, I need everything gone and cleaned. Something I have seen you are proficient in, ”

“That I am… sir,” he hesitated with the last part, as he wasn’t quite sure when to be formal with this man. Big Jim chuckled from the other side.

“And no need to stress, there is a lot that needs to be done so you don’t have to hurry, ” Jim explained, however Kowalsky had plans and he needed to get this done. He wished he could have gotten a fair warning about this, but he thought a “Hey I just wanna warn you in 3 days I’m gonna go down and kill my cousin and his friends, ok? ” Was a bit too careless for a mob boss.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be getting down to work,” Kowalsky replied.

“That’s what I like to hear, ” Kowalsky didn’t need to see the guy to know that there was a big smile on his face as he said that.
The panel doors to the other side had been locked, and Kowalsky wasn’t about to make more work for himself, so he’d see if he could make a way around through the changing rooms, and the only one that had been opened was the women’s.

“Scuse me ladies,” Kowalsky apologized to an empty changing room while jokingly half-covering his eyes with his hand. He walked through the room and found a door leading to what was on the other side of the panel doors, and oh boy. Mike should’ve really named it the “Bloody center” because there wasn’t really anything else in there. He could hear relaxing spa music play from the other side, so at least he’d have something to listen to.
The room smelled like a mix of relaxing bath products and death. An odd combo to encounter. And add a faint toasty smell into that as well. What was burning? Kowalsky looked to his left and saw the tanning room.

“... Holetta .” He groaned and put his gas mask on to cover his mouth and nose to negate the awful smells he was surely going to encounter. Before he began to unpack that whole mess, he made sure he had a quicker in and out and unlocked the doors leading to the elevator. First thing he’d do was locate all the bodies and get them out. He figured one was getting grilled in the tanning room, and he spotted one by the literal bloodbath.

To the left on the panel doors was an open room with vases and what Kowalsky could only describe as a Zen vibe. A body was laid upon the octagon almost table like object in the middle of the room, and a pizza cutter was next to it. The guy had his throat slit wide open, to the point where if you lifted his head you could see the bone to his neck. Kowalsky lifted an eyebrow at the oddly placed kitchen tool.

“You know, I would ask why a pizza cutter was used in a murder, but I’m more interested in knowing why it’s here,” He lied. He wasn’t interested in knowing at all. He honestly couldn’t care less. Kowalsky hoisted the dead body over his shoulder and walked out with him, the head hanging onto the body for dear after-life.

“Rick loved pizza so, I thought It’d be fitting that he’d die by the thing he loved most, ” Big Jim unexpectedly answered through the walkie. It had Kowalsky freeze and look down at it with surprise.

“Must’ve been tough, considering how shitty those slicers are,” Kowalsky replied, and got a chuckle out of Jim.

“Not if you press down hard enough, ” Jim joked.
Kowalsky threw this supposed Rick into the body wagon and struggled to keep all his body parts in the plastic bag, ignoring Jim’s response and not giving a reply. He walked back inside again to collect the body by the pool and got distracted by some golden light hitting his eyes. Some rings and dollar bills had been left out on the table and were just tempting Kowalsky. He glanced at it and debated on stealing. This was now Big Jim’s place, and now that he knows what happens when you dare to even try crossing him, he didn't think a couple hundreds were worth it.

A warning static noise came from the walkie. “I see you eyeing some shinies on the table. You a diamond guy? ” Jim couldn’t help himself but chuckle at the last part. Kowalsky internally rolled his eyes and his face became that of a frown. How funny, he thought. “Take what you want of those, they are worthless to me, ”

Now with Jim’s permission Kowalsky moved in and put the objects in his pockets, almost forgetting a crucial detail.
“Thank you.”

“Come again? ” That sounded less like a normal question and more of a trick question. Kowalsky sighed.

“Thank you, sir .”

“Heh, well I am known for being a generous man, ” Jim's attempt at boosting his reputation fell on deaf ears with Kowalsky as the guy was literally cleaning up his massacre, but hey, he could take a dead guy’s rings and bills with him. Who would dare to complain?

After getting all the bodies by the pool area Kowalsky had started to clean the area, finding more bills and valuables along the floor tiles. Even finding cards to unlock the lockers in the changing rooms, finding both guns and cash. Questioning how rich people were so ok with literally throwing money away. Although in their case, they might have thought they could turn into bullets and save them from Big Jim.
Alongside cleaning he had also found used bullets, weapons and phones from the different victims. One phone was still unlocked and opened on a recording of a conversation. It seemed to have been a conversation between Rick and Mike and their plan to take down Jim. Kowalsky wondered who had snitched, or if these guys were just even bigger idiots than they seemed.

“They seemed to have made a pretty well thought out plan to execute, sadly they seem to be the ones who got executed instead.” Kowalsky joked.

“You got that right ,” Jim agreed from the walkie, sounding very vengeful. “Those fucking traitors. Let this be a lesson to you too Kowalsky if you pass the test. Death to all traitors. ”

“I can see that.” Kowalsky commented back.

He went around the room with his trusty mop, getting the floors back to looking nice and clean.

“My mop’s dance moves are truly spotless.” He laughed quietly to himself. Not quiet enough however.

“Kowalsky, are you also known for having the worst humor anyone has ever witnessed? ” Jim asked, sounding genuinely bewildered at what Kowalsky just said.

“Oh, my bad. I had assumed Tyler had warned you,” Kowalsky dipped his mop in the bucket till it looked as new as it could. “Although he might’ve hidden it as to not scare you guys off,”

“Good thing I’m only surveying you on your test. After this, you can clean in peace. ”

Kowalsky had reached the small steps that lead up to the pool’s stairs with his mop and had sped up his work. Going faster and faster with it. The same when he had his sponges in hand. When trying to walk up a level his shoe slipped on the newly wet floor and his whole body almost fell. He managed to maneuver his body so it was mainly his hip that embraced the impact.

“Ała! ” he yelled as he hit the floor. Afterwards trying to get back and rubbing his side. “Cholera ,” he picked his mop back up and resumed cleaning at the same pace he was before.

“Got a date Kowalsky? ” Jim inclined. Kowalsky scoffed and shook his head as both an answer and in irritation of Jim’s teasing. “ I don’t think you heard me when I said you could take your time, ”

“It’s been a long day,” Kowalsky excused himself. Jim seemed to back off after that reply as he didn’t say much the next few minutes.
Kowalsky was gonna try and drain the pool for water to start cleaning inside of it, but had a suspicion the controls were on the other side of the wall inside the locked room. Kowalsky wasn’t much of a hacker, hell he had trouble sending PDFs. If he had spare time he’d use his bucket and get the water out that way, but by the size of the pool, that would take forever .
He carefully plucked the pin pad off the wall but let the wires stay connected, not wanting to set off any possible alarms. The school he worked at had similar alarms that sometimes broke down and he’d have to open the doors to the computer room. Although this lock was much more modern, it had an almost similar design to the school’s.
He used a similar technique to get the door open, and to his amazement, it somehow worked and the door opened. Revealing a room lit up by a red light.

“Och, dzięki Panu i szatanowi. ” Kowalsky thanked, mainly to himself. He put a fallen table between the door and the frame to keep it from locking again, and put the pin pad back into its spot.
He spotted a wheel connected to wide pipes coming from the wall and figured that it was connected to the pool. Above the computer was an instruction on how to operate the way to let the water out and fill it again. Press the buttons for emptying, and turn the wheel to fill. Simple enough. The instructions even came with pictures. Kowalsky followed the instructions and clicked on the specified button, which then had the water get sucked out of the pool and through the pipes in the room.

Kowalsky noticed a peculiar button on the wall before he exited the room. It was tinted red and said “VIP” above a card scanner. Kowalsky lifted his eyebrow in suspicion. Another room perhaps? Where would that be? And what would a VIP entail? The expensive towels that smell like lavender?

He fished out some of the cards he had been collecting around the place and found one without numbers that said “VIP” that he couldn’t use in the changing rooms. He held it up against the scanner and it beeped and turned green. He heard something on the other side open, and he exited the room to check. Suddenly besides the blocked-off sauna a secret door opened. Kowalsky’s mouth went slightly agape in disbelief.
“Rich people,” he muttered as he walked inside. The room was untouched unlike the other bloodied rooms. There was a couch set on the left side of the room, and on the right side, an actual stone statue.
Kowalsky whistled in even more disbelief. It wouldn’t surprise him if the statue was of Mike himself.

On the table by the couches were wooden trays with rolled up bills, seemingly worth a lot of money, just sitting out in the open.

“Hope Big Jim won’t mind me taking these as well,” he said as he took the bills and put them in his pant’s pockets.

“I’ll consider it your tip for the night. ” Jim responded through the walkie. Kowalsky this time didn’t freeze or glance down at the sudden noise. He had quickly gotten used to Jim’s responses and figured he’d get further with cleaning if he just didn’t indulge him. 

------

Kowalsky removed the furniture pieces in front of the sauna and put them back where they belonged. He opened the door and immediately the heat hit his body, getting his gray button up shirt to cling to his body, making it seem weightless. While he wore his mask, the smell still hit his eyes and he regretted not bringing any goggles to protect his eyes.

He dried his teary eyes off in his lukewarm sleeve and glanced back into the steamy hot room. There were two guys in here. One guy with his upper body on the floor and legs on the mosaic tiled seats, and a bullet wound in the middle of his forehead. Both men were only wearing a towel around their waist, and the guy on the floor had his trailing down a bit. Kowalsky had seen enough and tiredly tossed the towel back up again to cover him up. The other guy is over in the corner by the firepit, sitting as if he was sleeping with 6 shots in his chest and one in his forehead. His head lay on the edge of the pit and his face had turned a bit crispy from the flames.

“First one in their tanning room now one here? Did they have a barbeque without me? How rude.” Kowalsky commented in a dead tone of voice, trying to at least lift his own mood but to no avail. He didn’t have to see a body inside the tanning room to know there was one. Just the smell that emitted from that room was enough for him to draw that conclusion.

He started to try and get rid of the bodies in that room and started with the guy currently getting roasted. On closer inspection he saw that the hole in his head was bigger than the other guy’s and the ones in his chest. He had been shot at a closer range, that had been personal. He knew who this guy was.

“This must be Magic Mike, the place’s owner.” Kowalsky declared and picked the man up.

“Previous owner, Kowalsky. ” Jim corrected him, his tone so low it might have been mistaken as a growl. “I knew he always wanted to get rid of me and usurp me. I tried to refrain from setting him right because we’re family and all, but he crossed a line when he started to get in contact with other gangs. ”

“Hey, it’s at least more work for me.” Kowalsky chipped in, leaving a hint of sarcasm in his tone.

“That’s what I like to hear. ” Jim praised. 

------

Kowalsky quickly finished cleaning the other rooms, cleaned the pool of all the garbage and filled it back up, now there was only one place left to clean; the tanning room.
He dragged his mop in the bucket with him into the room and gently let the handle go and lean up against the wall. There were 3 tanning beds, and the one on the left was the one radiating that burning odor. A big heavy Anubis statue was placed between that and another bed, but had fallen over and was pressing the top of the first bed down. Trapping whoever’s body was inside of it. The person’s roasted arm had been crushed beneath it, trying to reach the outside, presumably for help or to try and lift the top off herself, but she didn’t have the strength.

Black smoke came from the burned corpse and it seemed to get worse. Kowalsky thought to get moving so the first course of action would be to put the statue back in place and get rid of the body. He grabbed the statue by its forearm and tried tugging, and realized just how heavy this statue was. At first, he realized just how difficult this might be, and secondly he was just amazed how anyone got this thing knocked over. Was… that Big Jim? How big was that guy? 

He tried pulling again, and put his feet on the opposite side of the base of the statue. It was moving a little bit, but it wasn’t enough. Damn, he thought. This thing was going to take a while, which only got him more irritated. He tried again, but he had already tired his arms out and he quickly stopped, thinking he’d relax for maybe 3 minutes before he’ll try again.
And by relaxing he meant he’d clean the other parts of it.

The spa music abruptly stopped to let out a message.

“Our solarium guarantees a very even tan all over the body. Please enjoy it to the fullest. ” The audio had a relaxing female voice narrating. It must’ve played the whole time he’d been there, he just hadn’t heard it as he unintentionally kept his distance from the room.

Kowalsky snorted at that. “I think she got her lines mixed up with someone else's, she was supposed to say “a very balanced barbeque” experience.” he had half expected Jim to turn the walkie on to comment on his joke, but nothing came about.
He found another unlocked phone by a chair and snooped through it. The dead couldn’t object.

Seems like the person in the tanning bed was a woman named Beth, and her and Mike were in a relationship of sorts. In their text messages Beth was demanding a jacuzzi, and Mike was demanding fun times in Malibu. Kowalsky put the phone away and once again put the mop against the wall. His muscles had rested and he was ready to try again.

He once more grabbed the statue's arm and slowly pulled it from its placement. It was heavy and he had to be careful. His fingers were almost locked around its arm as he pulled, as he didn’t wanna lose a grip on the heavy and smooth statue.
He finally got the statue back up and once he let go he stumbled backwards and leaned forward with his hands on his knees, coughing for air.

“Fuck you.” He said, looking up at the piece of art.

Now, to remove the burning corpse from underneath the top. He looked away as he opened it, as a massive cloud of black burning smoke arose and pooled at the ceiling, slowly leaving through the ventilation. What was left in the tanning bed was the remains of a woman cooked to a crisp who just wanted a tan. The bed turned off as the top was lifted, and the hand she had used to reach out was stuck in place and Kowalsky didn’t want to try and lay her hand down to her body, afraid he might snap it off.

He carefully put his gloved hands under her back and thighs and lifted her up, however parts of her had gotten almost glued to the bed and the skin got ripped off as Kowalsky gave it a little pull. He saw the skin that stuck to the bed and shook his head in disgust. “I didn’t think tan and toasted went hand-in-hand in definitions.”

------

Kowalsky had mopped the floors, walls and ceiling.
Picked up all the trash and placed it by the body wagon containing all the bodies at the location and put all the furniture back in place. He could proudly say, he was done. He would’ve loved to be earlier, but sometimes it just couldn’t be done faster.
He clicked the button to the elevator, and the walkie talkie made a sound.

“Done already? ” Jim asked, seemingly pleased.

“All done here.” Kowalsky replied. The elevator doors opened and he pushed the wagon inside, alongside the trashbags.

“You’ve outdone my expectations Kowalsky, the place looks spotless. Good job, ” Jim praised, or at least tried to sound like he was being genuine. Kowalsky imagined a preying smirk behind the walkie. “ I’ll have a new job for you soon. ” The walkie made a sound that it hadn’t done before, and Kowalsky guessed Big Jim had turned his walkie off.

As the elevator reached the top, Kowalsky began the work to get all bags into his truck, which proved to be harder due to his body’s lack of energy. After it was done, he started his car and started driving away. Heading towards a place he could get rid of the bodies.

-------

He was late, and he knew it, but he didn’t know how long. He had maybe broken a few road laws but no police were nearby from what he could see, so he figured he was in the clear. However as he neared his destination he slowed down. He saw many blinking dots traveling in the sky, landing and taking off. The airport entrance was just around the corner. He drove over to the pick up place and got out of his car, looking around almost frantically, trying to keep calm. Suddenly he saw her. Sitting behind a column along the pavement with headphones in and a beaten up phone in her hands. She seemed to have dyed the ends of her bright blonde hair a black color, something Kowalsky did not give her permission to do, but at the moment he didn’t care. It was the cheapest sustainable wig they could get their hands on at the moment.

Kowalsky sauntered up behind the girl, hoping she wouldn’t look up in the windows to see his reflection. He got down and popped one of the earbuds out.

“What did you do to your hair young lady?” he questioned. The initial removal of the earbud had spooked her, but once the girl recognized who he was, she beamed a smile at him.

“Dad!” She jumped into her dad’s arms and hugged him. Kowalsky, who finally wore a smile on his face after many days, hugged her back.

“Sorry I’m late. I had… a work emergency.” Kowalsky explained.
Elena, Kowalsky’s daughter, slipped out of their embrace and looked up at her dad.

“You look tired.” She commented. Kowalsky had struggled to fall asleep for a couple of nights, but he hadn't noticed it was that visible. Maybe the eyebags were a give away.
When hugging her, Kowalsky felt how much smaller she had gotten. Although he decided he wouldn’t comment on it, sure that she had noticed herself.

“So do you. Got enough sleep on the plane?” he questioned.
Elena shrugged. “There was a baby that cried for like, two out of the three hours.”

“Ah, yeah. Sounds tiresome. Good thing you can catch up on sleep in the car.” He picked up a bag that she had next to her and she grabbed her luggage. They both hoisted her things into the trunk and Kowalsky made sure they wouldn’t slide around too much.
After climbing in and putting their seatbelts on, Kowalsky drove them out of the Airport pick up spot, and headed towards home.

“Dexter missed you.” He informed her.

“I missed him too.” Elena yawned as she spoke. Kowalsky felt a strike of guilt strike him.

“I’m sorry I was late to pick you up. It won’t happen again.” He promised. Elena leaned up against the corner and tried to get comfortable to drift off to a little nap.

“It’s okay.”

“Hope you weren’t too bored.”

“I had downloaded some books before I went on the plane.” Kowalsky nodded as she spoke.
Elena spotted the yellow walkie talkie and picked it up and inspected it.

“Psssh, This is agent E. Kowalsky, I got eyes on the target,” she deepened her voice to mimic an adult, but it just made her sound funny. Kowalsky realized what she was playing with and his eyes widened.

“Elena put that back,” he ordered.

“Why? I’m not gonna break it-”

“Elena Kowalsky put that back.” he raised his voice sternly, add the fact that he used Elena’s full name she immediately dropped the walkie back to where she found it.

“Alright.” She muttered. Right afterwards Kowalsky felt bad for raising his voice within the first 10 minutes of having his daughter back.

“Sorry, I shouldn't have raised my voice.” he apologized. Elena didn’t seem to register the apology. She did always dislike getting talked to like that. “Listen, I’ve gotten a higher income, so once I’ve paid off the current bills, we can admit you back into the local children’s hospital.” He glanced over and noticed Elena wasn’t listening. She was looking out the window into the dark landscape. “... Sounds good?” He asked, trying to catch her attention again. “Elena-”

“Can we talk about something else? Please.” Elena pleated, finally turning her head to look at her dad, her expression saddened.

“Sure, we can do that… starting with that hair of yours,”

“Daaad,”

Chapter Text

Kowalsky walked away from his friend’s pig stall, having dropped 2 recent bodies into the pit from a completed job, however this one wasn’t funded by Big Jim. Kowalsky didn’t know who the guy was or how he got his information, but he had a few suspicions. Well, maybe only one.

The guy was a dad who showed up and killed his daughter’s current boyfriend and a friend, and like with Rob, Kowalsky was happy these guys are dead. After snooping around and cleaning their fancy million dollar house he had stumbled upon the guy’s money making scheme involving human trafficking. Not what he was expecting, and he hadn’t really prepared himself for that, but nonetheless everything had to go. Even the last third body he found upstairs, that of the daughter. She had ended her life in the bathtub, and Kowalsky was uncertain if the father knew or not. She was still in his trunk.

Kowalsky hopped back into his car and drove off, heading towards a gas station he knew was nearby. Before he walked away from his car he covered the body bag with his other trash bags. He went up to the payphone and put a quarter into it and dialed up the number of the client he had received if he needed to call him immediately. It rang for a bit and Kowalsky leaned up against the glass wall of the box and relaxed, taking a deep breath to try and calm himself down. It was late, but only around midnight. He had been relatively quick this time, and he had been contacted pretty early in the day, almost right after he’d gone home from work. He had dropped Elena off with one of his older friends in order to watch her. She’s an easy kid who loves to help out, so it was more a case of an adult being nearby. She was a preteen but she was very capable.

“Hello? ” Kowalsky heard from the other line. He almost jolted off the wall in surprise. It was a man’s voice, and he sounded very on edge with how quickly he spoke.

“It’s the cleaner. It’s done.” He informed him. He heard nothing for a few seconds.

“ ...Thank you. I’ll transfer you the money. ” Kowalsky heard some objects being moved around in the background, presumably the client was getting his bank account up on his laptop as he heard a lot of buttons being pressed.
Kowalsky tapped his fingers on the box nervously. He was gonna have to tell him, otherwise he’d go around and wonder what happened to her.

“Uhm, I found something and I thought I’d let you know because I’m not quite sure what you want me to do with it.” He informed.

The man stopped typing abruptly. “ Oh? ”

“Yeah, uh, your daughter-”

“If you’re talking about that room behind the painting, don’t worry, I know already. ” The man interrupted, clearly not wishing to get reminded of the room and the possible future of his daughter who had run away. It could have ended in another way, and Kowalsky wasn’t sure which one he preferred.

“No sir, It’s something else… I found Jane, your daughter.” He wasn’t used to being the one to break the tragic news to people but he attempted with his best. “I found her dead, in the tub upstairs…”

“ ... Oh god ,” The client whispered, his voice breaking at the end. He moved around in what Kowalsky could assume was distress. “ Not my girl… Not my little girl… ”
Kowalsky pitied the man, remembering how he was once the man saying those exact words. The man gasped shortly for air before coughing.

“I’m very sorry. How do you wish for me to proceed?” Kowalsky asked. The man sniffled and tried to speak without falling apart.

“Drop her by the playground with that elephant slide, and I’ll be there soon .” Either the man hung up or the payphone had automatically disconnected them because the call ended. Kowalsky put the phone back on the box and walked back over to his car. The elephant slide was a notorious slide amongst the city’s residents as it was on the news a lot because it was the last time a missing kid had been spotted. Kowalsky and his family, and many others, stopped going there and the park had been mostly abandoned. Probably the best place to trade drugs, have parties, or hand over a father’s deceased child.

He drove away from the gas station and headed towards the playground which could be found a bit further away from the city, cowered by many trees. Hidden and forgotten.

When he arrived he saw no cars nor people nearby. He picked Jane’s body up from his trunk and wondered where he would put her at the playground. On the structure? On the ground? Behind a tree somewhere? No, he wouldn’t want the dad to go on a whole treasure hunt to find her.

He spotted the little bench area with rotting wooden benches and bagless trash cans, and figured he’d place her over there.
Kowalsky gently put her on the ground and nodded his final goodbyes to her. “I’m sorry it ended like that.”

------

Kowalsky had reached the city and was on his way to a friend’s apartment to pick Elena up. The friend was an older woman named Louise, she was very friendly however there are a few things she need help with every now again, and whenever Kowalsky has to leave Elena alone he calls Louise up and asks to watch her, so that Elena can help her out, but also get some of her online school work done. Plus Louise has a cat, and as much as Elena loves Dexter, she also loves cats.

He parked his car along the street to her apartment building and walked up the creaking stairs to the 3rd story, found her apartment door and knocked thrice. He imagined it would be Elena who opened the door since Louise went to bed early, however he couldn’t hear anyone approaching. He knocked again, a bit louder.

“Elena?” he called out. “Louise?” he tried, hearing as he got no response. Kowalsky sighed, thinking of another option he could try. He walked back around the staircase to a rusty locked door, and easily got it open. It wasn’t a building that often got a fixer upper.

He walked up another set of stairs and he found himself on the roof. He went over to Louise’s side of the building and found her fire escape balcony overflowing with potted flowers and plants, and climbed down the untouched metal ladder. On her balcony she had 1 wider window she was to climb out of if the building ever caught fire, and Kowalsky often found it slightly open even after the many times he’s told her to close it when she heads to bed.
Kowalsky managed to press his hands through the gap and shut it open, allowing him semi-illegal access to Louise’s apartment. The place was quiet and the lights were off. Elena wasn’t on the couch like she usually was and Kowalsky couldn’t hear anyone move around.

“Louise!?” He called out again, slightly more worried than before. He looked around for a struggle of some kind, or blood drops. Had there been an accident that required medical attention? They knew he didn’t have his phone on him, which is stupid of him, but it's either that or having a chance of getting accidentally discovered by police, and Big Jim might get to him first before he got in cuffs.

Suddenly the lights to the living space got turned on and Kowalsky turned around to see that Louise had wandered out. He mustn't have heard her while in deep thought.
Louise was in her nightgown and looked at Kowalsky very confused. Her brown cat was at her feet.

“Kowalsky?” she said, not super sure what she was seeing was true. “How did you get in?”

“Remember all the times I told you to lock your window?” He replied, hinting at his answer. Louise rolled her eyes.

“Not like it was gonna do a lot, I mean, you got in.” She chuckled, however Kowalsky had a harder time finding anything funny at the moment.

“Where’s Elena?” he inquired.

Louise’s amused smile faded back into a confused look. “She’s… back home? Is she not?”

“Why would she be there? I told you I was gonna be late for pick-up. Did you send her home on her own?”

“No, your brother came and picked her up.” she explained.

Kowalsky felt all the color drain from his face and his heart skipped a beat, and then it couldn't stop. He could hear his blood start pumping in his ears and heart thump in his throat. His eyes widened in panic.
He didn’t have a brother he knew of. In fact, his family was dead.

Louise noticed Kowalsky’s expression fall, and got worried herself.

“You don’t have a brother, do you?” Louise guessed correctly, and Kowalsky turned on his heels and sprinted out of her apartment. Swinging the now unlocked door wide open and barely closing it on his way out. He ran down the stairs, skipping a few steps and hopped into his car, and drove as quickly as he could back home. 

He probably ran through a few red lights and stop signs, but he had to get home. To see if she was there, and afterwards he’d go to the police. He dreaded the last option. 

------

He turned onto his street and spotted his smaller house, and blinked in disbelief. 3 black cars had been parked in front of it and in his driveway, but he couldn’t see if there was one in his garage.
He parked the car in front of his neighbor’s house for now, and jogged up to his front yard that he’d had to mow soon. The lights inside were on but Kowalsky couldn’t hear anything going on, not even Dexter’s barking, which worsened his worry. As he got up to the door, he noticed some of his trash cans close to the wall had been flipped over and now there was another mess of trash he had to clean up today. Kowalsky was about to push the door open but unexpectedly it was swung open by someone from the other side. A man came into the door frame, and held a gun up to Kowalsky’s face. He didn’t recognize the man but he froze, looked at him, and put his hands up.

“Kowalsky?” The man questioned, eyeing him up and down.

“That’s me. Who are you-”

“Shut up.” He grabbed Kowalsky’s wrist and bent it behind his back. “Start walking.” he commanded, now putting the gun to Kowalsky’s lower back and leading him inside his own home. Normally when he got his arms bent behind his back it would hurt, but this guy was maybe a bit too new to this thing, or he was just that bad.

Inside he saw an even worse mess had been made everywhere in his living room, stuff had been knocked over without care and looked to have been kicked around. Things like books, flowers, papers and other small little trinkets.
If Kowalsky had thought one intimidating guy with a gun was bad, he would not be happy with 10 of them in the living room. All staring him down, standing in his house as if it was their own. That peeved him.
He was finally able to see the people he’d been worried about. Dexter was lying in the space between the kitchen and living room, and Elena was sitting on a high chair by the kitchen counter with a few books spread out, Kowalsky guessed it was her school work. In front Elena was a guy with his back to everyone including Kowalsky, and he was quite large from what Kowalsky could measure. Leaning over Elena on a similar chair and looking down at her books. He could make out the guy was wearing a black striped vest over a white shirt and black pants. His cloud colored hair was pretty long but had been tied up in a bun.

He was dressed way too formal compared to his associates who came in with sweatpants and jackets that probably should’ve been discarded with the amount of holes and patches.
After looking the man up and down, Kowalsky had a theory as to who that man was, and he hoped he was wrong.

Elena must’ve heard Kowalsky being pushed inside because she looked up in surprise over to them. “Hi dad!” she exclaimed with a smile.

“Hi, sweetie.” Kowalsky forced a smile down as to not raise anymore suspicions she may have. Luckily the cold gun pressed up against his back was hidden from her angle.
The man sitting in front Elena perked up and turned his head and made eye contact with Kowalsky, flashing him a playful smirk. Now he could see the man’s hair trailed down his face and made up a well taken care of classic full beard. He had nut brown eyes and wrinkles around his face, telling Kowalsky he was much older than the men around him.

When he finally spoke, Kowalsky’s worries were confirmed.
“Ah, Kowalsky. Good to finally meet you.” That was the italian accent that had been engraved into Kowalsky’s mind.

That was Big Jim.

“Hello,” he replied with hesitation.

“Adam, take the girl to her room.” Jim instructed one of his guys. Elena jumped off the chair and was escorted to her room, glancing over at her dad with a worried glance. Kowalsky tried to give her a reassuring smile alongside a nod, but he wasn’t sure he managed to be convincing.

Big Jim slid off the chair to stand up, and Kowalsky got a good look at this guy’s build. He was quite tall, Kowalsky might only reach his nose or eyes. He was also wide, with big shoulders and a chest that was slightly revealed with an unbuttoned shirt. 

Jim paced around the living room, as if he was eyeing stuff in a store and deciding on what to buy, with hands behind his back and chin up. He then looked back at Kowalsky with the same smile as before, and gestured for him to sit down on his couch.

“Please, take a seat.”
The man who had a gun up to Kowalsky’s back gave him a hard push forward with his hand, making some other men around the room snort at the abuse. He managed to catch himself before he fell and walked over to sit on his couch, avoiding the shattered glass on the carpet.

Jim picked up a picture frame Kowalsky had placed on a shelf, it was probably the best kept place in the whole house as Kowalsky made sure to have it cleaned everyday.

“You know, when I came in here and saw this,” Jim gestured to the photo. “I thought we got the wrong guy.” The picture was of Kowalsky and his family many years ago, when Elena was still a toddler. He had many other pictures of Elena around the house, it was however his wife that made that photo important for him. He didn’t have many other pictures of her. They were on vacation back when they had a pretty decent income. Kowalsky looks very different compared to the picture. He’d maybe lost a bit of weight, or it had traveled to other places on his body, and didn’t work out as much. His hair was brighter and free from gray strands, and he had completely forgotten how he looks without eyebags. His wife looked exactly how he’s always seen her. Beautiful.

He wanted to tell Jim to shut up and put the picture back, but he knew that would be stupid. That would give them a reaction and he knew better than to give them one.

Jim carelessly dropped the frame on the floor and walked away. Kowalsky heard the glass break under it, but he did his best to ignore it. Jim seemed amused at Kowalsky’s refusal to react to anything he did and chuckled.

“Do you know why we’re here, Kowalsky?”

“Not really.” he answered truthfully. Jim stopped in front of the TV and rested his arm on it, as if he was thinking but Kowalsky knew he was trying to mess with him. Prancing around his own home as if it was his own and breaking whatever he wished. If he wanted to, he could smash the TV or let it fall on the floor.

“Well, you see,” Jim began, slightly removing his arm from the TV and looked down at Kowalsky. “I might have taken this the wrong way but, I was under the impression you only cleaned for me .”

Oh. That’s what this is about.
Kowalsky was ready to speak up for himself but Jim was apparently not done yet.
“And so imagine my surprise when I hear that you got hired to clean by someone else.” he shook his head in disbelief. Kowalsky waited a few seconds before he spoke up for himself.
“I-”

“I mean… You don’t wanna quit, do you?” he interrupted him once again. His question was more threatening than genuine.
Kowalsky waited again, looking up at Jim and waiting for him to speak again, but this time he actually looked like he was waiting for him to speak.

“No-”

“Then why? Please, enlighten me,” Now Jim was sitting on the edge of the table that the TV was on, with crossed arms, having direct eye contact with Kowalsky. Kowalsky had almost forgotten all the other men in his living room if only one of them didn’t cough. It seems like they were all deeply distracted by their conversation.

“I don’t really see how that is any of your concern,” he finally managed to get a full sentence out, and it was one he didn’t expect.
Jim raised an eyebrow in amusement. “Kowalsky, I hired you to clean up the messes me and my people leave behind, if you take up jobs from other people and get caught, there is a chance that it would lead back to us,” Jim explained. “And we can’t have that.” his tone lowered and his smile faded. Kowalsky looked up at Big Jim with a hand on his chin, listening very intently and after he was done talking he remained in that position, still holding Jim’s gaze.

“So are you going to kill me now?” He asked matter of factly. Jim’s amused expression came back to life on his face.

“You think I’m so evil I’m going to kill a newly hired employee of mine?”

“I wouldn’t put it past you.” Kowalsky replied honestly. Jim bounced his head as if to say That’s fair .

“Heh, nah. I can allow small misunderstandings to slip by,” Jim’s emphasis on “small” made him wonder what he would consider small. Like arriving at the wrong time? Used the wrong kind of torturing tool? Only he knew.

“... Here’s the thing, sir ,” Kowalsky got up from his spot and stood in front of Jim, the only thing between them being the low sofa table. He could now better get a feel for their height difference as he was still taller than him, but not by a whole head, but he was definitely broader. “Your once a week jobs aren't enough pay for me, so I need to branch out. And for your information, I consider this a part time job. You want me to act like it's a full time job, make it a full time job.”

“Are you demanding more in pay?” Kowalsky heard a slight break in Jim’s cocky and confident facade in that sentence, and he heard a pinch of anger from what he assumed Jim took as an insult of some kind.

“No, I am simply stating I need more money. If you don’t believe I can properly clean a crime scene of any kind, then why have me? You can just fire me here and now,” With that, Kowalsky managed to make the whole room go quiet. Some of the guys gritted their teeth, while others widened their eyes and looked at Big Jim expecting a big outburst of some kind. The only sound they could hear was Dexter wagging his tail as he looked up at Kowalsky. Jim in the meantime just looked down at the dark haired janitor, probably debating on what course of action he should take.

“You know, I actually have half a mind to kill you now,” Jim growled.

“Well, I hope you guys know how to clean a crime scene,”
Jim’s guys looked at one another as if to ask each other Do we know how to clean a crime scene?
Jim leaned further down to Kowalsky’s level to get physically close enough to make him step back, but he didn’t. The janitor stood his ground and glared at him.

“... I’m warning you, Kowalsky. Clean up well, or we're gonna do something much worse than what we've done today." Jim smirked. "We could even go visit you at your workplace if you aren't careful."” He threatened. Kowalsky retained his calm composure, but on the inside his mind was racing with questions he had waited to ask. How did they even know where to find Elena? How did they find his work place? How did they find out he took up another job? A few of these questions could have the possible answer of Tyler , Kowalsky figured.

“So Just, keep cleaning,” Jim encouraged and leaned back so their faces weren’t inches away from one another. He put a hand on Kowalsky’s shoulder, padding it but it turned into a tight grip on him instead. “Oh, and you missed a spot.” Jim could barely contain his smile of joy when he pointed to a messy pile his men had created on the floor. But with that, it seemed that Jim and his guys were done. He caught their attention with a whistle and a wave of his hand and they all started moving like a unit. One guy even shoved him trying to walk past him, and the guy who had escorted Elena to her room walked out the hallway and followed his peers out the door. Jim glared at him one final time before exiting, leaving Kowalsky alone in the even worse living room.

After he heard the cars drive off he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Oh my god…” He muttered. Dexter was still lying where he was when Kowalsky entered and the German shepherd seemed relaxed but awake.
Kowalsky started speed walking down to Elena’s room and swung the door open, to find a still awake Elena who should have been in bed a while ago. There was a board game with pieces on it still in the process of being put away.
She noticed her dad come into her room in a hurry and raised her eyebrows in suspicion.

“Hey dad, you okay?”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah I’m good. What about you? You’re not hurt right?” He asked, sitting down next to her and helping her put the pieces back into the box.

“Nope, I’m good.” she answered. “Who were those guys?”

“Well, they’re not my brothers,”

“Yeah, I kinda figured two minutes into the car ride from Louise’s.” Elena confessed.

“What were you doing at the kitchen table back there? Was that your homework?” he asked.

Elena nodded. “Just a bit of math, he said he couldn’t help with my english.” Kowalsky found himself being surprised by that, unless Jim was giving Elena the wrong answers on purpose just to mess with her, but that didn’t seem like a thing he’d do. He seems like a guy who would have her write a ransom note.

“Are you in trouble?” She asked, sounding concerned. Kowalsky froze as he tried to get the top to fit on the box.

“No, sweetie. They are just some guys from my second job. You know, where I clean up after parties?” That had been his cover story to Elena as to where he was getting the money from. She seemed suspicious of it but she didn’t have any reason to distrust her dad. “They just came by to discuss some crucial routine details.”

“Oh, well, they seem fun” Her response could be mistaken as her yawn as she opened her mouth. Rubbing her eye to remove the sleepiness.

“You should get ready for bed as well,” he patted her back and picked the closed box off from her bed and placed it on its shelf. Elena agreed with a muffled Mmh and half open eyes.

-----

Elena had closed her door a few minutes ago and Kowalsky couldn’t hear anything from the other side, suspecting she had fallen asleep. He found his phone that he had ditched before he went to work and called someone up. Tapping his foot with a mix of impatience and irritation. He had to call a few more times before the person on the other end picked up.

“H-hello? ” It sounded from the other side, as Tyler had clearly just been woken up.

“It’s me.” Kowalsky did not sound patient at all, and sneered when he spoke.

“Oh hey man, what’s up? ” he sounded blissfully unaware of what had gone down and Kowalsky got even angrier. But then again, how would he know what happened?

“Oh you know, not much. Just had some guests come by,”

“Oh really? Who? ”

“Big Jim and his friends.”

“Oh shit… Why do I feel like I'm about to get yelled at? ” Tyler’s gut feeling was correct, Kowalsky was definitely gonna raise his voice.

“That depends, did you give out any more of my information to them?”

“No man, I swear- I mean promise! ” Tyler swore. Kowalsky remembered a lesson Tyler’s dad had taught them both. Never swear, only promise.

“Then how the fuck did he and his friends know where I got a new job from, and where Elena was?!”

“Dude… I don’t even know those details! ”
Kowalsky was about to reply back but he was stopped before he was two syllables in. Tyler was right about that. He never tells him in case he fucks it up, like Kowalsky thought he had done.

“Listen man, Big Jim and his people are crazy. If you think they won't find out, trust me, they will. ”

“Thanks for the heads up.” Kowalsky thanked sarcastically and hung up. Not really wanting to say goodbye as he was still angry at Tyler for even dragging him into this. The pay was great, but after this visit Kowalsky wasn’t as calm as before, knowing that they’re gonna keep a keen eye on him.
Dexter finally got off the floor and padded over to Kowalsky, nudging his knee to signal he wanted affection. He petted his dog’s head between the ears with tense fingers trying to calm down, which at least eased him a bit for now.

He needed those extra jobs, Jim and his once or twice a month jobs weren't enough for all his bills. But he was gonna do it. He had to.

Chapter Text

It had been an awkward couple of minutes of Kowalsky and the guy in front of him sitting in silence. The guy would switch between flipping through papers and typing on his computer, and all Kowalsky did was sit in the chair on the other side of the desk in the guy’s little cubicle in the office. He had a stupid sign with his name on the desk facing the people in front of him saying “Leon the Loan master”, and Kowalsky wanted to roll his eyes aggressively the first time he read it.
Outside the box were people talking, phones ringing, printers spitting out papers and people walking around.

Kowalsky’s good shirts had been dirtied and were drying back at home, so the best he could do today was a dark gray sweater and a black jacket he’d wear on top of it if he was outside. He felt very out of place with all the other people in their ironed shirts and ties. He even tried to set his dark and graying hair but it had been a while. It is what it is now.

“So, if I’m looking at this correctly,” Leon snapped Kowalsky back from zoning out. “You requested coverage from us a while ago and was denied, correct?”

“That’s right.” Kowalsky confirmed.

“Do you remember why we had to deny you?” He asked as if he wanted to see if Kowalsky remembered, because Leon certainly did.

“I was told because of my job and salary that I didn't qualify for any of your offers,” he recalled, doing his best to remain calm and not yell at the guy. All of this was just, stupid. To top it off, this guy seemed insufferable at work. Just very cheerful in this specific situation.

“That is correct,” he spoke as if he was a first grade teacher praising a kid for knowing basic knowledge. “However it seems that afterwards we hadn’t received any of your monthly payments and according to our policy we are unable to cover your bills as you have missed payment.”
Maybe Leon had expected Kowalsky to start trying to reason with him from the get go, but currently he was just… frozen. Staring at Leon after having heard what bullshit he just spat at him. He blinked a few times before he slowly leaned forward and spoke. “I stopped paying, because I had to pay for my daughter’s treatment, the treatment you guys refused to help pay for. ” he maintained eye contact the whole time as he spoke, trying to read Leon’s expression, but there was nothing, maybe annoyance. He probably had told this to two other people that day.

“I’m sorry mister Kawolsky, but that’s how it is,” Ignoring how Leon Mispronounced his name, he replied back in an instant. “If you start paying your monthly payments for a while we might be able to help you,”

“I have been with you guys for over ten years,”

“A lot of people have,” Leon almost sighed as he flipped his papers back in place and clicked a few things on the computer, ignoring Kowalsky and giving clear signs he didn’t intend to continue talking to him, or to even try and find a solution.

“Well, thanks .” Kowalsky forced himself to say that last part as he clapped the chair’s armrests to stand up, snatched his jacket and walked away.

“I am sorry, Kawolsky,” Leon looked in his direction, trying to maybe add to his 5-star reviews.

“Sure you are,”

“Hey,” Elena looked up from her book in the waiting room outside the office just as Kowalsky opened the door and stepped in. “How’d it go?” She asked, a bit less cheerful than she usually was. These things would usually bring down her mood.

“ Poszło jak cholera ,” Kowalsky almost mumbled as he swore in his native tongue.

“Language,” Elena jokingly scolded as her dad pushed his arms through the jacket’s sleeve and gave her a glare.
They started making their way down and out of the building without speaking a word. Elena wasn’t trying to make conversation as she could see her dad was not in the mood.
They walked on the sidewalk next to the busy road, Elena had grabbed her dad’s jacket so he wouldn’t walk too fast for her as her legs were much shorter than his.

“... You hungry?” Kowalsky finally asked, sounding much less angry than before.

“Uhm, maybe a bit.” Elena answered.
Her dad flashed her a smile. “Alright, come on.” 

-------

Kowalsky took them both down to one of the city's remaining parks. After the last park’s incident, this was the one that they would go down to and spend time together, and they discovered there was a pretty good café close to it, although it was a bit out of their budget considering snacks and lunch, but they’d do it to quickly celebrate or to treat themselves. It had been a while since they had been by.

“So, how is it?” Kowalsky asked Elena who he had bought a couple of scones for. Elena waited to answer her dad as she had consumed the first few scones within minutes and was chewing them down. “Not worth the five dollars per scone, but edible.”
Kowalsky almost suffered a heart attack when he saw the price of the scones, they had definitely raised their prices since last time. But he decided to buy some for Elena anyway.

They were walking down a path close to the trees that once carried vibrant green leaves on them, but now bore orange leaves and many of them had hit the ground. It was October after all, and they could certainly feel that in the weather. Kowalsky kept looking over his shoulders to see if there was anybody keeping an eye on them, after what had occurred a few days ago. He wondered how Jim’s men had figured it out.

“I’ve missed this place,” Elena claimed.

“Oh yeah?” Kowalsky sounded amused. “Remember when we’d go here with mom?”
Her face lit up as she was remembering the old times. “Yes!”

“And when you’d jump into the lead piles?”

“Yeah,”

“And a leaf went into your mouth and you started choking?”

“Yeah- Oh that was terrible.”
While that was scary in the moment, looking back, Kowalsky found it quite humorous, even though Elena’s face back then was red after she had coughed the leaf up.

As they continued to walk along the path, Elena headed toward a bench in front of them. “We should have brought Dexter with us-” She stopped as Kowalsky grabbed the sleeve on her shoulder within a second.

“What are you doing?!” He questioned in a worry.

“S… Sitting down?”

“Are you crazy , have you seen how dirty that is?!” Kowalsky let go of her and started to aggressively clean a spot on the bench, then decided it wasn’t clean enough, and just put his jacket on there for Elena to sit on instead. “There,”

Elena stared at him, unimpressed and slightly annoyed. “Dad, I’m not a baby,” Kowalsky didn’t seem to hear that part and Elena wasn’t gonna repeat herself.

They sat at that bench for a while, just talking. Elena asked into Kowalsky’s “new job” and he tried to make up believable lies. Meanwhile he asked into Elena’s school work.

“It’s easy,” she gloated. She was always a bright kid, but hadn’t been in a normal school much these past few years due to her hospital visits and out of state travels.
”Think your boss will be by again to help with my math?” she joked, although Kowalsky could sense she wouldn’t mind if he came by again, however he did, very much so. His heart went flat line when that man spoke which revealed his identity without needing to say his name. Although the way he stood out from everyone else also gave it away.

“No, he’s… he’s got other stuff to do,” he answered, firmly as possible.

“Shucks. What about your coworkers? They seemed nice.”

“No,” he shook his head. “No.”
Elena opened her mouth to ask another question, but refrained and looked away, hoping her dad wouldn’t encourage her to speak whatever was on her mind, but he did.

“What is it?”

“... Dad, are you selling crack?”

Kowalsky felt like he got put in a chokehold of surprise. That wasn't what he was expecting at all. “No! … And where did you learn that word?!”

“How come you suddenly got so much money you can buy me scones like these?” She asked, a hint of worry in her voice.

“I… You don’t need to worry about that,”

“But I do,”

“Well then I need you to stop worrying about it. It’s nothing you need to be concerned about, It's fine.” Kowalsky tried to reassure her, but her concerned look didn’t fade, if anything, it worsened with worry.

“Okay, fine… You aren’t selling your kidneys are you?”

“Elena-”

“I’ll stop, I’ll stop,” she raised her hands in defeat.

Suddenly Kowalsky’s phone vibrated unexpectedly. His heart started beating faster. Had the hospital replied? Did his insurance company make a solution? Or was it from the person he dreaded talking to most…
He took a deep breath as he picked the phone up from his back pocket and looked at it. It was an email from… Anon_King? Oh no.
He just had to skim the message to see what it was about and decided to read it later when he was back home, and when Elena wasn’t currently reading his message over his shoulder.

“Elena Kowalsky, sit your ass down,” he scolded. “And don’t try to read my messages,”

“Is it work?”

“Yeah, they just notify me whenever they.. Plan a… party,” his voice trailed off as he looked in the distance. A recognizable face.

Tyler. And he was with someone he didn’t recognize. Kowalsky wanted to turn around and run and pretend like he didn’t know him, but Tyler had spotted him as well, and they made eye contact. Fuck .

“Hey, Kowalsky!” Tyler smiled and waved, meanwhile Kowalsky groaned and rubbed his temple.
Tyler’s usually messy spiked brown hair seemed to have been styled today and his clothes didn’t seem like they reeked of trash. Next to him was a brown-skinned woman with her curled hair down, and she looked dumbfounded between Tyler and Kowalsky.

“How’ve you been?” The younger one of them asked.

“Good, good, uhm,” Kowalsky looked down at Elena. “Honey, go back to the cafe. I’ll meet you there,” She got up, giving her dad and the stranger a final glance before she started walking the same way her and her dad came from. When she had turned a corner and was out of sight, Kowalsky squinted his eyes and glared at Tyler.

“Dude so much has happened since last! Like I got offered a job, it’s way less stressful, and Oh! I met Trisha, she’s… in the circles too,” He gestured to the girl and she waved awkwardly. “It’s been really great. How about you?”
Kowalsky had his gaze fixed on Tyler, unblinking and bewildered at the question he was just asked.

“... Tyler,” he walked closer and leaned in to whisper. “You got me working for a fucking mob boss. How do you think it’s going?”
Tyler’s smile turned awkward and he quickly glanced away in shame.

“Uh, yeah, sorry ‘bout that,” he apologized and scratched the back of his neck. “But like, how’s it going? Think Jim likes you? If he does you might be able to get a few benefits-”

“Does benefits include basically abducting my daughter and trashing my home while threatening me?”

Tyler didn’t reply and just stared at Kowalsky with open eyes and downturned eyebrows. “Oh, yeah… they did mention… Sorry,” he gave an awkward smile. “Was that Elena? Waow, she’s so big,”

“Don’t even,”

“Don’t even what?”

“Don’t talk to Elena. I don’t want you to ruin her life as well,”

Tyler seemed taken aback by Kowalsky’s statement and took a step backwards in shock. “I wouldn’t do that-”

“You’ve done it to everyone else,” Kowalsky gestured with his arms.

“Listen it’s not like I mean to do it!” Tyler exclaimed. “And I’m sorry it hasn’t turned out well for you,”

“Keep your sorries for the next ten people,”

It seemed like Trisha had enough of “Clueless Tyler” and “Increasingly aggressive Kowalsky”, so she stepped in.
“Ok Tyler, how about we just go?” she pleaded and tugged insinstantly on his sleeve, obviously not wanting to be here anymore and risk Tyler getting hurt. Kowalsky wasn’t one to initiate fights, but he looked like he was close to starting one.

“Y-yeah, sounds good,” Tyler eventually agreed and turned around to walk away, but he gave Kowalsky a small wave before they finally left.

Kowalsky relaxed his shoulders that he hadn’t realized were tensed up. On the inside, he was still fuming. Something about seeing Tyler really irked him. Good for him that all this “ working for the mob ” business is going well for him and all, Kowalsky wishes he could say the same about himself. While the pay was good, there wouldn’t be an end to the job. Death wouldn’t even be the end as they know of Elena, hell they even know of Dexter.

Thank you Tyler, thanks a lot.

---------

God what a night this was going to be.
Kowalsky had read the email he’d gotten at the park after he got home and had dropped Elena off at Louise’s. Someone needed him to clean up after an accident they made unintentionally. The person apparently wanted the house but couldn't afford it so they thought by making it seem haunted they would then lower the price, but instead it just seems to have instilled paranoia. It was a big nice family home, emphasis on was . Currently the walls were smeared in blood and cross imagery everywhere. He had found a couple of bodies upstairs and had dragged them down the stairs. A lot of what he only could describe as ambience noises could be heard playing from small hidden speakers, but other than those, nothing scary really. Pair of bulbs not working right and a ball falling down the stairs, neither really scared or startled him. There was a pair of keys upstairs as well for the downstairs that had been locked somehow, and Kowalsky had an idea what he’d find behind the doors, but he was far off.

In the conjoined room of the kitchen, living room and dining room there has been made a giant red pentagram circle. In the middle was the last body, the body of the perpetrator, the wife and mom of the home.
Hilariously enough the family’s robot vacuum hadn’t been turned off and was pathetically cleaning up the blood stained floor, or well, trying to. Really it was smearing the blood everywhere, creating an even bigger mess and even more work for Kowalsky.

“Dear god, if I die, please don’t let me come back as one of these,” Kowalsky muttered as he walked over to the sad little excuse for a robot and stomped on it. It took a few kicks before it started falling apart and made sad robotic noises.
“Sorry bud, this must really suck ,” He chuckled a bit at his own joke. “I need sleep.”

A new room the conjoined death room led to was of another smaller living room with a liquor shelf and a giant flat TV screen. Although this room was almost untouched from the bloodsheath, it certainly creeped Kowalsky out the most. Not because of any disturbing imagery or concerning words, but because of the large amount of cat pictures that were hung on all the walls. All of them are the same black cat.

Personal favorite much?

But then, Kowalsky had a thought.
“... Where’s the cat?”

He looked around for any trace of it, but saw no pawprints. Maybe it had fled? He swore he had only turned his back to the room for 1 second, and the very next second something fell on the floor and shattered. Kowalsky froze but suspiciously turned his head to glance over.

Great, more work. A bottle of alcohol was knocked over and left a big stain on the wooden floor. He sighed.

“Seems like the alcohol has been possessed… by drunk ghosts,” Kowalsky mocked the signature “Ooo oo” ghost noises as he picked the bottle pieces up. “How spooky,”
He started cleaning up the downstairs, but he felt on edge. When he had put a pillow back later on it was moved once again. More noises of furniture being moved was heard throughout the rooms, and Kowalsky was certain he heard a meow at some point. If the cat was still here, there could be a chance it contained evidence or traces of a murder scene, and if it got out, Kowalsky and everyone in this situation will be fucked.

“Kitty?” he called out by the kitchen side of the room. There was no sign of life. However, he noticed a smaller door next to the fridge which was slightly ajar with light shining from the other side.
Kowalsky was only surprised by the fact he hadn’t spotted this door before, but it did blend somewhat well with the wall. It also didn’t stand out room wise, as it looks like it led under the stairs.
He went down on his knees and pulled the door wide open to reveal a small room under the staircase with a lot of random junk and supplies.

“People in LA are gonna compare this room to a penthouse- Ah!” Suddenly a black shape close to his face jumped out at him which caused him to yell and fall over on his ass.
Kowalsky needed to gather himself for a second before he turned his head to the shape. “There you fucking are!”

The only response he got from the little black cat was a purr and a tail movement.

“Been looking all over for you, you son of a bitch. Come here-” he reached out to grab the cat but it swiped at him and sprant away.

“No! Hey!” Kowalsky yelled as the cat ran over to where he had propped his bucket full of dirty bloody water and knocked into it with great speed, spilling its contents. “Oh you bastard ,” he sneered through his now gritted teeth. Nobody gives him more work, and nobody will ruin his work.

He chased the cat for a little while. Trying to corner it and then grab it, but damn that cat has some sharp claws.
The little fluffy feline walked on in front of the window and knocked over picture frames and other knick knacks they had on display.

Kowalsky glared at the little troublemaker. “This is why I’m a dog person,”
He looked over the whole room again for an idea for the cat. Trap it in a blanket? That’s basically animal abuse. Get it in a vase? No, if it breaks it just makes a mess. On the kitchen table Kowalsky spotted unopened cans of fancy cat food. He thought of an idea, and dismissed it at the moment. It couldn’t be that easy, could it?

He opened a can from an arm’s distance and from the moment the top was peeled off, the cat had turned its head and padded closer to him with caution.
Kowalsky turned his head to the cat. It really was that easy.

“Hey bud,” he got down on a knee and extended his arm with the food to the black cat that seemed to have forgotten its and Kowalsky’s previous squabble and was eager for food. “You hungry?” he asked more as an observation as the cat sniffed the food, waited for a moment, and then chowed down.

After the cat had licked the can clean, Kowalsky carefully tried to pet the top of its head. He doesn’t have a lot of experience with cats, but he was gonna give it a try.
The cat let him pet its head, and it even moved into his touch which startled the cleaner. Cats would usually start hissing and scratch him by now.

“Alright… Heh, okay, this is… fine?” he nervously declared. The cat went below his hand and around his side, leaning up against him and nudging him. “Alright bud. Now, what to do with you?”

------

Kowalsky finished up at the house and had driven back home. He eyed every car or suspicious dark alleys for any cars observing him. The whole thing with Jim’s men watching over him wasn’t his favorite circumstances in the world and it had him on edge when he went to these kinds of locations.

The cat was on the seat next to him, curled up in a ball and dozing off. He thought it was a better option to keep the cat rather than it being found and leading people to the now untouched looking scene. And Kowalsky wasn’t a big fan of killing cats, because they will come back to haunt him. Whether in his dreams or in his life.

He opened the door to his house with the cat held against his chest. It had barely moved and was very tired according to the amount of yawning it did. Dexter quickly appeared when Kowalsky walked in, and took an immediate interest in the creature in his arms. His tail wagged and he struggled to stand still with excitement.

“Alright Dexter, alright,” Kowalsky muttered. “Please don’t kill it,” He slowly got down to Dexter’s level and the dog came forward to inspect the cat. The cat meanwhile had acknowledged Dexter, but it didn’t seem to care much, or it had already accepted death.

Dexter sniffed the cat a couple of times before he yelped in excitement. That was a good sign at least, and the cat was just letting Dexter sniff him. At one point the dog even licked his new friend in the face.
“Okay Dexter, don’t smother him,” he gently guided Dexter’s face away from the cat as he stood up again.

He had driven Elena to Louisa’s again so she wasn’t present to meet the cat, so in the meantime he could get the cat settled.
“You are a one time thing, you hear me Bastard?”'

The cat that Kowalsky has oh so creatively nicknamed Bastard didn’t give any response or evidence that it listened to him and was eyeing the living room.
“Yeah sorry it’s not as big or fancy as the last place,” Kowalsky fakely apologized to the cat. It suddenly stood up in his arms and jumped off him and onto the couch. Dexter walked over and stood in front of Bastard, not bothering him and Bastard still seemed to not be afraid and went to lie down and sleep in the corner of the couch. Kowalsky chuckled in amazement of the two pets.

“Seems like you got a new friend to keep you company Dexter,”

Chapter Text

Kowalsky waited for Dexter to stop sniffing a tree stump for a bit before he tugged at his leash to hurry him along. It had been a while since they took Dexter out on a new route to walk and he was very excited. Sniffing every rock and tree he could get to, meanwhile Kowalsky tried to both walk Dexter and hold on to the flower bouquet he bought. Elena was many feet in front of them, standing still and waiting for them. She wore her gray shark hoodie with black leggings and denim skirt and brought her favorite light blue backpack with her. She waited for them, almost making fun of how slow they were, but Kowalsky could tell she herself was struggling to outspeed her dad and dog. She’s not as athletic as she used to be, and that showed as she tried to hide how heavily she was breathing.

“We’ll be right there,” Kowalsky yelled out to her.

“Do you never walk him dad?”

“I do, I just don’t bring him to cemeteries a lot,”

“Why not? It’s your style”

Kowalsky jokingly glared at his daughter as well as giving her a smile. “What does that mean?”

“I just mean… You seem like someone who loves to be in a place alongside a lot of dead people,” Elena admitted. Kowalsky had to restrain himself from laughing at the irony of that.

“Well, yeah. It’s pretty, even at this time of year.” He liked the orange leaves on the trees, and the graves often had flowers and other nice things placed in front of them.
Kowalsky sadly hasn’t visited in a while, even though he really should have.

They walked down a familiar path they hadn’t seen in a while, but the familiarity felt comforting. They soon spotted the grave that they came to visit. Its tombstone had been uncared for, as evident by the growing lichen and moss on the stone, covering the engraved letters and dates.

Kowalsky put the flowers aside and peeled the front lichen off.

“Has the cleaner not been by?” Elena asked as she bent down as well to assist her dad in polishing up the stone, while Dexter stood and wagged his tail behind them. Kowalsky got reminded of a grave renovations email he got a couple of weeks ago, offering a discount on grave renovations down to 320 dollars. He didn’t have any extra dollars to spare back then, and currently he has other things to pay for, so he decided he’d go down to clean it. He, however, has not had that much spare time.

They had gotten enough green off for them to read what had been engraved into the stone.

HELEN KOWALSKY.

Kowalsky neatly placed the bouquet up against the rock and sat down on the ground. Elena followed suit and Dexter decided to lay between the two and got his back petted by Elena.

“You wanna tell mom what you’ve been up to?” he inquired.

“Sure, uhm… Oh yeah, the new Spider Verse movie released. It’s really good. You got theaters in heaven?” she asked. “It's such a pretty movie with great action…” Elena continued to talk about the different movies that had been released that year, and Kowalsky couldn’t keep up with her blabbering, but smiled at her anyways.

“What about you dad?”

He snapped his head to her. “What?”

“Tell mom what you’ve been up to,”
Kowalsky glanced away to try and think of something to tell the tombstone of his deceased wife. Elena however grew inpatient and decided to speak for him.

“... dad’s selling kidneys-”

“Will you stop?”

They spent many minutes at the grave, talking to the grave of Elena’s mom and Kowalsky’s wife. Dexter laid and rested, almost falling asleep but the constant shift in tones kept him awake as Elena kept teasing her dad.

“Dad was late to pick me up at the airport,”

“Elena dyed her wig,”

“That was low, dad.”

Kowalsky wondered when they should start heading back home, and he got his answer when he heard Elena’s stomach growl in hunger and looked at how tired she was.
He chuckled. “Hungry?”

“Yeah…” she mumbled.

“We’ll come back next week,” Kowalsky suggested and got back up on his feet. Dexter felt that they were gonna go walking again and stood up with him. “Say goodbye to mom Dexter,”
Dexter let out a friendly bark at Helen’s stone by Kowalsky’s command.

“Good boy,” Elena praised and clapped Dexter on his head as a reward. “Are we going out to eat?”

“No, besides, I got a little surprise for you back home.”

---------

Safe to say Elena loved the surprise. The last thing she expected was to find a cat back at home waiting for them. She questioned where he came from but Kowalsky explained it away as he just kinda found it.
The only thing the cat disliked was Elena’s loud squeal at the sight of him, but he settled quickly at the adoration he was getting from her.

“What’s his name?”

“I’ve just been calling him Bastard,”

“... This is why mom named me,”

Later when they went to bed that night, Elena had made a spot for Bastard to sleep on inside her room if he wanted to, but it seemed like he preferred the other end of her bed, and if she dared to move her feet, he would attack. Kowalsky offered to remove him but Elena declined, he did however demand that her door had to be open so Bastard could leave if he wanted to.

Meanwhile Kowalsky had the company of Dexter to fall asleep with, also at the foot of the bed. It took a while before Kowalsky fell asleep, as Dexter’s snoring kept him awake for a bit. But he finally settled and slept… for a few hours until the phone on his nightstand vibrated and rang.

Kowalsky awoke slowly, groggily groaning as he flipped over on his side and attempted to open his eyes. He only got them half open as he grabbed his phone and looked at the blurry caller. There was usually only one person who’d call him in the middle of the night, Tyler.

“Okay, what the fuck do you want now?!” He yelled, but not loud enough for Elena to hear. Dexter did perk an ear at him.

“... Well, good evening,” a deep raspy voice greeted on the other side, with a familiar distinct accent. Kowalsky’s eyes snapped wide open as his heart skipped a beat.

“Ah, Jim. Good evening,” smooth, he thought to himself.

“I hope it wasn’t me you were talking to like that,” Jim sounded more amused than anything. Seemed like he was in a good mood.

“What? No, no no no. I was just saying that to my… dog,” He and Dexter made eye contact, and if a dog's looks could kill, Kowalsky would be dead.

“Ah, I see,” It did not sound like he believed him one bit. “Kowalsky I need you down here at Mateo’s Pizza for a job and if you can, be quick.”

Kowalsky sat up and rubbed his eyes. “Alright, I’ll bring my resume.” he hung up the call and didn’t hear anything else from Jim.
Kowalsky checked the time. It was past one in the morning and Kowalsky was not ready to be up this early with so little sleep, but he had little to no choice. He’d try to get up and out of the house quietly to not disturb his daughter, or the growing amount of animals under his roof.

Hopefully Big Jim hasn’t shot off a whole mall this time, so he could get home before Elena woke up, he wished. 

------

He hadn’t seen Mateo’s Pizza for a long time. He and his family would order from there a while ago, it honestly didn’t seem like they were associated with gangs and people like Big Jim. It was a nice enough part of the city and seemed like a place where a lot of high school kids would work evening and weekend shifts, which worried him.

He found a way to park in the alleyway between the pizzeria and the apartment complex, blocking the whole path. The place was quiet and the whole backside was only lit by a single sad looking street light. Other than that, it was pitch dark. Kowalsky rubbed the sleep off his eyes and took a deep breath. “Time to work,” he opened his car door and stepped out into the eerie silence. It was normal this time of the morning, but something about it felt… off.

He walked over to the back door and saw a strange silhouette. At first he discarded it as trash bags, but with more focus he saw that it was a body. A dead one he thought, until it moved.

“ Kurwa ma !” he shouted as he flinched and almost jumped away from the door, where a familiar man had sat down, cigar in hand, who looked up at Kowalsky with a neutral expression. Big Jim.

“Gesundheit,” Jim greeted.

Kowalsky had placed his hand instinctively on his chest where his pounding heart was, feeling how fast it beat and trying to calm down from the shock. He did not expect him to still be here, he thought he would have fled by now.
Kowalsky looked back down at Big Jim, who’s cigar had been put out against the cold stone, and tossed it into a garbage can next to him.

“Why are you still here?” Kowalsky asked, still a bit surprised and a little bit irritated.

“You came surprisingly quickly,” Jim commented, ignoring Kowalsky’s question completely. He was dressed quite nicely for the evening, with a black vest again but with a red shirt underneath it this time with rolled up sleeves. Looking at his arm Kowalsky spotted a detailed black shaded tattoo going up his right forearm, and seemed to go all the way up to his neck. On the forearm Kowalsky could make out cards and dice, figuring Jim probably enjoyed poker, or even a good round of russian roulette.

His cloud colored hair and beard seemed to have been in contact with presumably blood as it was a light red color in a few places.

“Sorry, did you want me to take my time? I’ll swing by McDonalds next time. Want some McNuggets?” he jokingly offered.

“If you want to body shame me please do it directly,” He spoke as he got up from the steps and stood up, looking down at Kowalsky.

“I wasn’t- I didn’t… nevermind,” he groaned in response. While Jim was a bigger man than him, he didn’t really see it as fat, but more like big relaxed muscles, with some pudge here and there presumably. “Why are you still here?”

“It seemed that Mateo and his pals were conspiring against me,” Jim explained as he turned around towards the door and opened it, walking into what looked like the small supply room. “I interrogated one of them who told me they had some evidence against me to try and blackmail me with. Of course, that backfired… in more ways than one,” he grinned as he finished speaking, clearly proud of his unintentional pun either way. Kowalsky rolled his eyes. He could do better.

Jim gestured to a big thick door leading to the walk-in freezer. “It locked itself from the inside,”

“... I’m guessing you need me to get in there somehow,” Kowalsky assumed.

“Well there’s definitely a big bloody mess in there,”

Kowalsky walked over to the door and peeked through the foggy window, barely being able to see anything but could make out a lot of blood in the room, and a… strung up body? He eyed Big Jim.

“When did you find time to string someone up?” he asked in disbelief.

“I’m an efficient man,” He answered without looking at Kowalsky and instead inspected his own hand.
Kowalsky gave the freezer door a try but it wasn’t budging. He wondered why any freezer would get locked from the inside, but decided he wouldn’t think more about this situation he was in. He was here to clean, and that is what he will do. Even if Big Jim was there as well.

He walked over to two swing doors seemingly leading to the restaurant, pushed them open, and stopped in his tracks. “Mamma fucking mia,” he muttered under his breath. The room was worse than the wellness center. Blood was everywhere, pools on the floor and splattered on the walls and dripped down. Tables and chairs were broken and scattered around the room. A body was laying on some wood as if he had been thrown down on it and broke it on impact. “This place looks more tangled than the pasta in my carbonara,”

Jim eyed the cleaner out of confusion. What did he say?

Kowalsky looked to his right over to the store counter and kitchen area. There weren't any furniture pieces in there that had been flung like the dining area, but there was a pool of blood by the counter, coming from the body of the dead chef, sitting against the table.

There was also a big round pizza oven which was still turned on, and another body was lying in the window. His neck had been slashed open and the man had bled out while being burned by the fire and heat from the oven.
He looked back at Big Jim, who had passed behind him and was checking the drawers in the counter.

“Know this guy?” he asked.

Jim looked away from the drawer and at the dead man. “No. Why?”

“I don’t know, maybe you knew he really liked pizza so you wanted him to become one,”

The mob boss smirked amused. “I just thought he’d find the inside of a pizza oven interesting,”

“Well it was definitely a life changing experience,” Kowalsky grabbed the man and pulled him out of the oven window, seeing his charred hair and burnt scalp. He was dressed pretty fancy for the evening and probably didn’t smell like shit before now. He blinked as a bright beam of light shined directly into his eye, coming from the oven where the body had been. He saw a key with a melted plastic tag laying on the oven floor. He got it out with a nearby fork and guessed from the blue tag with snowflakes that it was related to the freezer with the strung up corpse.

“Here’s a cold take, you shouldn’t be able to get locked in a walk-in freezer,” Kowalsky spoke.

Jim had dumped a drawer and its content on the floor in search of something and looked over at Kowalsky a few seconds later. “Don’t you mean, hot take?”

“Nope.”

Jim needed a few more seconds to figure out what Kowalsky’s pun was based on, and did a clear fake laugh and shook his head. 

Kowalsky had flung the oven body into the truck and the body that had been smashed down on the dining tables and now he wanted to get the body that had been strung up. Big Jim had paced around the room, stepping in blood and creating new footprints, and making more of a mess for Kowalsky to clean. He refrained from scolding Jim as trying to tell him what to do caused this whole mess.

Kowalsky put the keys in, turned them, and opened the walk-in freezer door. Cold air escaped the room as soon as he started pulling the door to the side, and fog trailed out. He walked in and got a better view of the room. The man that was strung up was above a foldable chair, and a rope of the floor that probably had him tied to the chair at some point. Blood had trailed down his body but had stopped due to the cold air and was frozen to his flesh. The wounds were quite small and didn’t look like any of them was the leading cause of death.

“Huh, this guy seems pretty ice-olated,” he commented, and while he couldn’t see Jim’s expression, he could guess from experience that he was displeased with Kowalsky’s pun.

“You sure you killed this guy?” Kowalsky called out to Jim who had gone into another room. He heard his footsteps go towards him and stop at the door. Kowalsky was getting ready to use the chair as a ladder to get the man down, but got interrupted as a sudden and loud bang pinged through the little room. He instinctively dodged out of the way and looked back at Jim who had gotten a gun out with a silencer on and shot the strung up man straight in the forehead. Blood splattered against the wall and boxes behind the body.

“What… the fuck ?!” Kowalsky yelled, surprised at his own volume.

Jim shrugged. “Well he’s definitely dead now,”

“... Could’ve just snapped his neck or something, now I got brains to clean up!”

“Good news for you, there wasn’t much in there,”

Kowalsky had gotten the man’s body down and dragged it out to his truck. Jim had proceeded to go into the room next to the freezer again and began rummaging around. Throwing shit on the floor and just made an even bigger mess. Kowalsky walked in and started dragging the body in there. It looked like he was reaching for another door that led to the closed off part of the back alley, but Jim had gotten him first.

“Anything out back?” he asked Jim when he walked back in.

“Not to my knowledge. You’re welcome to check though,” Jim said rather dismissively, currently going through files he had found on a desk. Kowalsky walked outside to the other part of the back alley. The first thing he noticed outside was something from the building on the other side, the second story in a window was a woman’s body lying in the window with her upper body hanging on the outside. Blood dripped down from her body onto the wall and the boxes and pipes on the wall. Kowalsky eyed the body with furrowed eyebrows. If Jim said there wasn't anything out in the back, then who had killed this lady?

He looked back at the man who was seemingly irritated when reading the files. “ Sir , do you want to get caught?”

Jim looked up and glanced at Kowalsky with a raised eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh nothing, just the dead woman hanging out in her window,” Kowalsky informed as nonchalantly as he could. Jim tossed the files away, as if he had waited to do that for a long time, and walked out pushing past Kowalsky. He spotted the woman quickly and tilted his head.

“... Yeah I don’t remember doing that,” he declared. “I don’t go out and shoot randos, too risky,”

“Sure you didn’t walk out to see if anyone noticed anything?”

Jim pointed a finger at him. “I might have taken one or two negronis before I headed up here, but I’m not black out drunk Kowalsky. I don’t remember shooting that dead bitch, so I didn’t.”

“Okay okay, guess it’s just a… crazy coincidence,” Kowalsky muttered and walked past Jim towards the woman in the window. She looked to be quite old and was wearing a sleeping gown. She was probably ready to head to bed and happened to see something out of her window that got her killed.

“She’s gonna be tough to get down,” Jim commented. Kowalsky wondered why he was still standing out here, but figured he was just interested to see how he would get her down, but probably also to speculate what had happened to her.
Kowalsky bit back a reply as he ran and lept forward, jumping on a piece of wood and used it as a quick step to get up on the dumpster before swiftly walking on the well thick pipes, walking along them and finally going on the outside air condition unit from her apartment, right below her body.

Jim looked up at his employee, seemingly amazed. He whistled. “You jump in your spare time, Kowalsky?”

“My what?” He called back, but having clearly heard Jim’s question. He couldn’t recall the last time he was just laying on the couch, having the TV play in the background and doing nothing.
Kowalsky ducked under the window and crawled inside, seeing the woman’s blood painting her walls and ceiling.

“Welcome to your luxury retirement home, where gangs and drug dealers are just outside your window. Six thousand dollars a month please,” he managed to place one foot on her floor before he froze, as he heard something beneath his foot make a splashy sound. He looked down with regret and saw that the woman in the process of hanging out in her window had knocked over paint cans, and Kowalsky hadn’t spotted them.
“At least, it’s white,”

Kowalsky jumped back down in the alley with the elderly woman over his shoulder, landing smoothly on his feet, leaving no white paint behind with his steps. He looked over to where Jim was standing, next to a metal fence to the dumpsters up by the pizzeria with his back to Kowalsky.

He got the body into his truck but Jim still hadn’t moved. He wondered what the man had found that was so intriguing, deciding it wasn’t really that important, but ultimately he had to check it out so he went over.

“What’d you… find…” His voice trailed off as he got closer and peaked past Jim, seeing another dead body up against a dumpster, but this one stood out. It was a younger girl in a work uniform, supposedly from Mateo’s Pizza. Blood poured from a hole in her face and one in her leg. Must’ve been shot there either as she was running away, or whoever did it liked to inflict pain before they’d eventually kill them.
Kowalsky eyed Jim suspiciously who didn’t turn his head away from the body. He was about to ask him but the man beat him to it.

“Not this one either,” Jim stated. “Bullet wounds too small to be from a Tommy, and as far as I was concerned, I showed up alone, and left alone. Besides, I wouldn’t kill her out here,”

“Oh so you’d be a gentleman and kill her inside?”

“More or less, it doesn’t create such a scene at least,” he gestured to the bloody display.

“How thoughtful of you,” Kowalsky deadpanned.

“It would be too risky anyways,” Jim concluded.

“Someone following you? Your men seem to be pretty good at keeping an eye on people from a distance,” Kowalsky refrained from using his experiences of being watched by Jim’s men as an example, feeling that the man already knew where his facts came from.

“You know when she died?”

“... I’m a fucking janitor buddy, not a coroner,”

On the cold bloody pavement to the girl was a lit up phone laying not too far from her. The phone had been cracked but was still working. Kowalsky bent down and picked it up, showcasing the last app she had used was a texting app, and the last person she texted was her dad. Her dad apparently had a bad feeling about the pizzeria and pleaded for her to find a new job. Kowalsky glanced back at the girl, who’s name was Tammy as revealed through the phone conversation, and felt pity.

“When did you arrive?” he asked.

“An hour before I called you, circa,”

“Last text message from her was sent close to your arrival then,” he showed Jim the phone conversation as proof. “Probably around the time of her death. Someone might have wanted to leave a trail up to you,”

Jim scoffed and a smirk peaked up. “Figures, got a lot of jealous enemies,”

Kowalsky turned the phone off and put it in his back pocket before leaning down towards Tammy to pick her up. He’d like to help figure out who did this, or just to bring her in, but that would be difficult, seeing as this was the last place she was heard from. The others it was easy, the girl’s from Rob’s place had no ties to him, and the daughter’s body was picked up by her dad who hired Kowalsky himself.
He took a look at the girl’s face, and could recognize the sheer form of fear in her dead eyes, maintaining the frightened look even after death. She probably even got a good look at her murderer, and maybe even the firearm that ended her.
Kowalsky picked her up by her back and legs, and carried her away, wondering what he would do with her body.

------

He got both women’s murder scenes cleaned up before he headed inside to start and found even more bodies to drag out. One in a bathroom and the rest were scattered all around the store. He once almost slipped as he hadn’t noticed the used and empty bullets on the ground, presumably from Jim’s weapon. They blended well with the orange and white tiled floor.

He cleaned out the freezer afterwards so the blood wouldn’t be as tough to get rid of. There was blood splattered in different directions in the room, and Kowalsky couldn’t come up with a good enough explanation as to what had occurred, other than one idea. Jim was really bad at interrogations. Not that he wasn’t scary, he was just a bit too quick and rough. To prove his idea right, there was a recorder that had been left on the ground, almost frozen stuck. Kowalsky played it and heard Jim’s voice on the other end.

“So now that you’ve had some time to cool down, think you’re ready to talk? … Motherfucker, you already dead? Damn, I should really stop ,”

“Seems like Jim got hit with the cold shoulder,” he internally chuckled at his own words and continued cleaning. 

He had cleaned the walk-in freezer and was currently occupied in the front. Jim would occasionally walk around, still looking for whatever, and with each unsuccessful search, the more agitated he became. Eventually throwing things around with force. Kowalsky just figured it would be best to leave Jim to finish his tantrum in peace.

He was putting the dining tables that hadn’t succumbed to the slaughter back in their places and spotted another one of the camouflage bullets right by the wall and under the table. He leaned down and bent over the chair blocking his path, and with a little stretching, he got it. It wasn’t until he stood back up that he noticed Jim had gone back into the room but had stopped and looked at him. The man’s eyes shot up the moment Kowalsky looked at him.

“What are you looking at?”

“Nothing,” Jim answered almost instantly and walked away again, seemingly in an embarrassed hurry. Kowalsky could only raise an eyebrow of suspicion at the man. 

He had maybe filled up 3 yellow garbage bags with the broken polished wood from the floor before Jim walked back into the room. The man had gone back and forth many times, and Kowalsky had at this point learned to tune him out. It wasn’t until he heard a big splash of liquid being poured out behind him. Kowalsky tensed up. What just happened, better not just have happened. He turned his head, and felt his body heat up in anger.
Jim had carelessly knocked his bucket of semi-dirty soap water out on the floor, and Kowalsky would not stand for it.

“Hey! ” he yelled.

Jim whipped his head around to look at Kowalsky, surprised that he had just shouted at him.

“No! ” he yelled again pointing his finger at him.

Jim glanced around confused, unsure what caused Kowalsky’s freak out.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing?!”

“Uhm… looking for evidence-”

“No! You’re trashing the place further! Making me stay here longer with no compensation!” He grabbed his mop that he had placed on the pillar in the room and aggressively shoved it into Jim’s hands. “Clean that shit up, now!” he gestured to the bloody dirty water Jim had spilled while maintaining eye contact, his eyes darkening even further with anger and annoyance.

“... Are you giving me orders-”

“Did I fucking stutter?!” Jim had attempted to knock Kowalsky down a peg, but the man was faster and obviously rageful. His anger had been building up the more stuff Jim had flung and thrown around, with no care for the mess he was creating for Kowalsky.

Jim, in somewhat of a protest, smacked the mop on the floor to cease Kowalsky’s bitching.

“Good, clean that up while I refill the bucket you spilled,”

Jim mumbled something under his breath as Kowalsky took the bucket and walked away, something Kowalsky couldn’t make out. 

When he came back out, Jim had lazily cleaned the dirty water up, with very low effort but it was enough for Kowalsky. He honestly didn’t expect that he would surpass his expectations.

“See? That was easy… Don’t spill my bucket like that again,” He said in a joking manner but faded into a threat. Jim glared down at Kowalsky, unimpressed.

“I only did that to shut you up,” he informed him. “Don’t try to give me orders in the future, understood?”

Kowalsky didn’t respond but went in and grabbed his mop back to continue his work.

“For how long will you be here and wreak havoc?”

“Until I find whatever evidence these pizza fuckers were talking about,”

“Well you’re not going to find them in an even bigger mess. Get cleaning.”

Jim blinked at Kowalsky in confusion. “Did you not just hear me?” No response, once more. “ Kowalsky? ”

“Jim I have been here for two hours and you have done nothing but create an even bigger mess for me. I will help you find whatever dumb shit you’re looking for, but if you want to find something, you need to stop putting another mess on the one you’ve already created.”

Jim listened to Kowalsky, but was not happy with what he was hearing. He sighed. “What can I do to shut you up?”

Kowalsky handed him his roll of yellow trash bags. “Start picking up trash. You can sort out the non-evidence while you’re at it,”

Jim looked down at the small trash bags he got handed and started to regret everything. His night could only get better from here.
Kowalsky went to work mopping the floor and cleaning the walls and tables with his sponges, meanwhile Jim broke the already broken tables and chairs into smaller pieces to fit into the bags. Kowalsky could however feel Jim’s irritation and imagined the man was taking his anger out on the wooden furniture.

It at least worked and they made progress. Soon enough the restaurant was cleaned up well. Jim would however throw the bags around with no regard and would shoot Kowalsky a glare behind his back.
The janitor had sat down and was cleaning the blood of the food trays and disinfecting them. He had been awake for too long by now, and the sleepiness was slowly getting to him. His eyelids felt heavy and his thoughts seemed foggy, but he was powering through.

“Trays are gonna be so clean you can eat off it,”

Jim walked back into the room after having thrown another full trash bag out in kowalsky’s truck, looking annoyed as ever.

“There!” he started. “Picked up every single piece of trash, and still! No evidence,”

“Hold on,” Kowalsky removed the final dirty spot on the tray and put it back on its rightful spot on the rolling shelf. “There. Now, did you look everywhere?”

Jim laughed, but it was not out of humor or joy, rather it seemed like he was trying to calm himself down.

“Think they were bluffing about evidence?” Kowalsky threw a suggestion at him.

“... Nine fucks aren’t going to have a celebratory dinner at their own restaurant over bluff , Kowalsky.”

“Hmm… have you spotted a safe anywhere?” he threw another one, hoping Jim wouldn’t smack it away like the other one.

“No. Why?”

Bingo.

“Every store or restaurant has a safe,” Kowalsky got up and walked out and into the office, pretty sure it was in here somewhere. Customers and neighbors had no reason to be in here, so it was the best place to place something… personal.

“Already turned this room on its head fifteen times,” Jim sighed as he followed while rubbing his eyes, also suffering from being up that late but also because of the displeasure of being in this room, once again.

“Okay… hmmm… Okay this is gonna sound weird,” Kowalsky remembered a common fact from all the other places he’s been that’s helped him tremendously, and with the pizzeria’s owners being involved with a mob boss, it wouldn’t be too unlike them to have one. “But have you noticed if there’s anywhere in the building where there could be a potential room of any size?”

Jim furrowed his brows in both thought and confusion. “No, the building’s pretty occupied,”
Kowalsky glanced around the room, looking for a hiding spot. He spotted some lockers and trekked through cardboard boxes over to them and looked inside. Expecting a secret door or just plain nothingness, which was what he got. Just lockers with trash.

“I don’t think we’re in Narnia, Kowalsky.” Jim spoke.

“Of course not. We’re too old,” He shut the locker once more and groaned, wondering how he would get out of the cardboard mess. He looked at the dartboard on the wall and jokingly thought of a safe behind it, but then he noticed what had been shot in place on the board. A piece of paper with text had been put in place with a dart in the middle of the board.
Kowalsky plucked the paper off the dart and looked over it. It seemed to hang there as a reminder for the staff, as it said “ATTENTION LOSERS” at the very top.
How eye-catching, he thought and continued.

The goddamn elevator is busted again! Now we got to haul our asses down this ladder-

“For fucks sake, these guys got an elevator!?” Kowalsky vented and looked around in disbelief. “... Rich people,”

“An… elevator?” Jim repeated, just as confused as Kowalsky was, glancing around the room.

“It says it's broken so they have to use a ladder… How come you’ve been here for hours and you haven’t spotted this note?” he inquired.

“It didn’t seem important, it was posted on a dartboard for god’s sake,” Jim snatched the note from Kowalsky and looked over it himself, taking a bit longer than Kowalsky to read through it. Afterwards, he looked down at the ground below the boxes, and it was as if a lightbulb got turned on.

“Move the boxes,” he instructed and proceeded to shove some boxes on the floor away with his foot. Kowalsky pitched in and moved a few as well, and then he saw what Jim had spotted.
There was a secret hatch beneath the supposed pile of cardboard trash.

After uncovering the hatch fully, Kowalsky attempted to pull it open, but it appeared to be locked. Jim bent down and fetched a key out from his pants pocket to use on the lock.

“Where’d you get a key?”

“Found it while searching. Didn’t think much of it and assumed it was the key to the pizzeria,” Jim explained. He turned the key and a metal sound clinged through the room. It worked. Kowalsky pulled again and the hatch got lifted, revealing a ladder that went down at least 2 stories.

The men loomed over the hole that resembled the inside of a bunker and pondered their next moves. Kowalsky dreaded that Jim would tell him to go down with him, and Jim wished the mentioned elevator wasn’t broken so he wouldn't have to climb down a ladder in the early morning.

“Well, you going down?” Jim asked.

“Why should I go down?” Kowalsky responded quickly, clearly not wanting to go down with him.

“If there’s any valuables down there I’ll let you take them,”

“Deal,” Kowalsky took the deal and began climbing down the ladder, saving himself some time by skipping a step each time he climbed.

Jim called down to him once he touched the floor. “What’s down there?”
Kowalsky stood in a long but narrow hall, leading down to only one door.

“A door,” he called back.

Jim groaned and rubbed his temple. “I’m coming down,” he called down, completely done with tonight and clearly wanting to go home already. Kowalsky did as well, especially since his more normal job was in the morning. He would have to apologize to his coffee machine later.

Jim got to the bottom and saw the door Kowalsky mentioned. They walked over to it and Jim could feel his bun almost scraping the ceiling and had to duck at a point when he spotted some cobweb. Kowalsky got ready to open the door, expecting it to be locked as well and they’d have to spend another hour or two trying to find the key to it. Maybe it was on one of the bodies and they’d have to go search the corp-
Apparently not, as the door opened without a hitch.

“... Huh,” Kowalsky said in surprise and somewhat amused. “This is where they made the real dough,”
He opened the door wide and they both stepped in, now standing in an underground secret gambling room. All lit up and a radio was silently playing music. There were two tables, one displaying a card set for Poker and the other one with a roulette wheel in the middle.

“Really? An underground gambling room?” Jim asked, looking around unimpressed.

“What? You don’t have an underground gambling room in your pizzeria? What are you, poor?” Kowalsky asked and proceeded to stuff his pocket full of cash sitting on the table next to him. Jim’s eyes followed his movement and smirked. He caught sight of the aforementioned safe mounted into the wall behind Kowalsky, but disappointingly found a lock he couldn’t maneuver open with a pin. Instead it had a keypad with an unknown code.

He grunted. “Well, seems like I’m gonna have to rip the whole thing out and take it with me,”

“Hold your horses,” Kowalsky said while pocketing more valuables into his pockets before walking over to the safe and looked at the keypad. It reminded him of the one back at the wellness center, so maybe, he might be able to use the same trick on it.

“Oh? You smart with computers as well, Kowalsky?”

“Eh,” He shrugged. “I dabble a bit,”

Jim chuckled as Kowalsky continued to work on the keypad. “A man of many talents, ey?”

“Sure,” the keypad made a click and it gave a sound to indicate it got unlocked. Upon opening it, Kowalsky saw a lot of money stacks, and a paper envelope. Before he could even reach a hand inside of it, Jim was quicker and snatched the envelope. Kowalsky rolled his eyes internally. He didn’t really care about what proof these men had on Jim. He opened the envelope and glanced inside of it, furrowing a brow but quickly hid it and replaced it with a smirk, but it was strained and obviously forced. Kowalsky took a note of it, but ultimately decided, he really didn’t care.

-------

Kowalsky took one final round through the pizzeria and back alleys, double checking for evidence or left over blood splatter, and for a third time, he found nothing. Everything was sparkling clean, and he was done.
He didn’t have his phone on him so he couldn’t tell what the time was precisely, but his guess was it was the early hours of the morning. If he got home now he would only have a few hours, maybe even only a few minutes, to catch up on some sleep before he’d head to his real work.

He shut off all the lights in the building and whatever machines that didn’t need to run before he went out the back door and shut it, encountering Jim on the other side.

“Everything clear?” he asked.

“Pretty much,” Kowalsky nodded. “Only thing left to do is, all of that,” he gestured to the dead bodies and trash bags in the back of his car.

“Out of curiosity, what do you do with them?”

Kowalsky thought for a moment, looking away while debating what he should say, until he came up with an answer. “It’s a cleaner secret,”

“... In the future Kowalsky, when you work for me, there are no secrets,” Jim looked Kowalsky dead in his dark eyes as he spoke. “I’ll let this one slide, but keep it in mind in the future. Understood?”

“Yeah, sure,” Kowalsky replied, cocking a brow. “Does that go for you as well?”

Jim let out a laugh, he hadn’t prepared himself for an answer like that. Here the cleaner was, his first ever official job from Jim, and he was already sassing and yelling at him. Jim wondered what he was like at his daily place of work.
“No it doesn’t,” he answered.

Kowalsky pulled a cover over his trunk to cover everything up before he opened the driver door and was about to step inside before he got stopped by Jim, who had not left the alley yet. He had a feeling he was observing him.

“Ah, by the way Kowalsky,” Jim called. “How’d little Elena do on that test of hers?”

Kowalsky whipped his head around confused. What test? Had Kowalsky forgotten an assignment that Elena had?
Oh right, Kowalsky remembered. The test Jim helped with when he broke into his house.

He didn’t know if this was just Jim reminding him of his power and what they can do, or the least possible outcome, Jim was actually curious about it.

“She uh, got a hundred percent,”

Jim nodded, liking what he was hearing. “Good, good… she’s a smart kid, I see why you’re in this business.”

Kowalsky looked up at Jim with furrowed brows. “Thanks,” he hopped back in and slammed the door shut, just wanting to get all of this over and done with. He had ceased his need to give a fuck many hours ago.
He started the engine and drove off, leaving Jim by Mateo’s Pizza alone.

------

Kowalsky had gotten rid of most of the bodies and bags from the crime scene, but had handled the younger girl in a different way. A bit more respectful without being caught. Jim would probably find out who set up a trace to him and handle them accordingly.

He parked his car inside his garage and turned the engine off. Stepping out and closing the garage door after him. He was so close, his legs were basically ready to disappear below him and he was ready to just lay down, somewhere . He will take the floor if he must.

He opened the door to the house and was greeted by no animals or Elena. Good. He’d go to bed and she wouldn't notice he had been gone the whole night. Even though he thought he’d been silent, Dexter still trotted out from the bedroom and into the living room where Kowalsky was to greet him with a wagging tail.

“Hey boy,” he spoke, his words almost a yawn. He spotted the couch, and in that moment, it was the most inviting and comfortable thing he had ever seen. He walked over to it, and flopped down, bouncing shortly after the impact, groaning in relief. He turned over on his back and dragged the thin blanket over half of his body, inviting Dexter to come and rest with him. His dog literally jumped at the chance and hopped on Kowalsky’s abdomen and rested his head on his chest.
Quickly, he fell asleep with Dexter resting on him, while petting his head.

Edit to add:
recreation of how the freezer scene happened, illustrated by my friend :)

Chapter Text

“I’m back,” he uttered as soon as he got out of his car and shut the door after him. Kowalsky returned from yet another clean up job not commissioned by Big Jim, and his feet were aching . This time he’d been called out to a very nice villa family home to clean up after a rageful man had visited the family. Five people were murdered inside of the home, including the couple’s kids and their pool boy. Kowalsky thought that it was a bit over the top, there was no need for such a bloodbath.

Thankfully for a change, he had gotten a heads up by a couple of hours.

Elena had spent the day home alone, assuring her dad before he left that she could take care of herself and that he didn’t need to call Louise up. Kowalsky was hesitant, but figured it was okay since it was during the day and Louise was probably out with her church or something.

He opened the door to his living room and left his shoes by the entrance to the garage. Getting out of the black sneakers came with a flash of pure relief. To even get to the location’s crime scene Kowalsky had to trek through a long front garden that he would then have to go through again and again with bodies and trash bags. Safe to say, his feet and knees were aching and longing for some rest, preferably on his bed. 

To his surprise, his house was quiet. Normally when Elena stayed home alone when he’d get groceries he could come back to find her in the living room with a blanket resting with Dexter, but no one was there. None of the pets came to greet him either. He grew worried and suspicious.

“Elena!” he called out.

“Bedroom,” Elena called back from down the hall. She sounded wrong, somehow. Kowalsky walked down to her room and pushed the door to her room open and found her in her bed, with their two pets in there as well, laying and reading a book in her hands. Dexter was at the foot of the bed, and Bastard on her lap, both of them resting. Elena looked up at her father almost like she dreaded to look up at him.

Kowalsky’s heart dropped as he got a good look at her. Her eyes were foggy and puffy, with bags beneath them. Her cheeks were red and seemed to have been in contact with water. She looked paler as well, since he last saw her.
His poor baby, he thought.

Elena could tell what her father was thinking as he didn’t say anything. She dreaded this part.

“I- how- … For how long have you been like this?” he managed to ask.

“Like… the whole day?” Elena guessed as she wasn’t entirely sure. To be honest she’d been feeling awful every morning for a couple of days, but her dad didn't need to hear that.

“The whole day?” Kowalsky repeated in disbelief. “Even before I took off?”

“Yeah,” she answered. “I felt bad in the morning, but I thought I was just tired… Turns out I was both,” she added a giggle in the end, trying to lighten the conversation, but it didn’t work.
He sat down on the bed next to his daughter and got a closer look at her.

“Have you been crying?”

“No.” Elena responded quickly.

“Then why are your cheeks wet?”

“Oh! I gave the pets a bath, something you could use as well.” Kowalsky blinked in confusion. He had promised he’d bathe them at some point, but that pin in the wall got covered by every other thing he needed to do. Fix the sudden plumbing problem in the kitchen sink, buy new light bulbs for all the ones in their house that started blinking and take on spontaneous jobs given by murderers and an annoying gun waving mobster.
He also thought his smell of dead bodies wasn’t that noticeable, but perhaps he’d just gotten used to it.

“You gave the cat a bath too?” he asked in disbelief and glared at Bastard who was either unaware of Kowalsky talking about him, or gloating with the attention.

“He’s surprisingly easy to bathe. No scratches as well,” She pulled up her sleeve to reveal an unscratched arm, but Kowalsky did raise an eyebrow at a bruise. Elena seemed to have forgotten it was there and quickly pulled her sleeve back to conceal it. 
Kowalsky looked at her for an explanation, but Elena glanced away.

“... Dexter accidentally knocked my arm against the tub. It's fine though,” she answered, seemingly a bit embarrassed.

“You haven’t hurt yourself in any other way?”

She shook her head.

“Are you feeling better?”

She nodded her head, though she was missing the confidence from before.

“... Have you thrown up?”

“Maybe… Once or, thrice…” she mumbled a reply.

“So, that’s why you were crying-”

“Dad, I haven't been crying!” Elena protested and sat up. Bastard woke in surprise and the book fell on the mattress. Kowalsky could tell she was lying and pretending to appear tougher than she was. She had been like this for a while, and she had not gotten stronger. She was skinnier than when she arrived weeks ago, and appeared to have shrunk in height.

“Dexter, has Elena cried?” Kowalsky glanced at the German shepherd who barked as his name was spoken. Kowalsky took it as a yes while Elena took it as defeat, eyeing her dog like the snitch he was. Kowalsky sighed.
“Elena, I know you hate your condition right now, and believe me, I despise it. But listen,” he put his hand on her leg for reassurance. “Everything is almost paid off. I just need the final transactions to go through, and we can readmit you to the children’s hospital in the city,”

Elena looked up at her dad and could tell he was looking forward to readmitting her, and a far away part of her was too, but another part could not be less excited.

“So until then, could you please tell me whenever you feel off so I can make sure you won’t be all alone when you need support?” He asked, his daughter still refusing to keep eye contact. “... Elena?”

“I promise,” she mumbled quietly. Kowalsky tilted his head to try and meet her eyes, but she diverted them.

“Honey-”

“I hate the hospital,” Elena declared before her dad could ask his question. “It sucks.”

“I know it does,” In more ways than one, he thought. “But it’s necessary.”

“I like being home, with you, Dexter, and Bass,” she petted Bastard’s head as she mentioned him by nickname. “I hate the procedures, the medicine, the food. Plus everything smells like death,”

Kowalsky would love to reply to her last statement but held his tongue. “Just… Just think of when it’s all over. You will feel better, and you will never have to go back there again. You can attend normal school again, make friends, and you will get to see Dexter and Bastard every day.”

“ If I’ll feel better,” Elena mumbled.

“You will ,” Kowalsky insisted, leaning over and kissing her forehead covered by her hair.

“I’m not gonna have anyone to talk to though,”

“You can always make new friends. You’re easy to get along with. And maybe, some of the old kids will be there too” he was right in a way. Elena was very popular when she was admitted there last time as she’d be nice to the younger kids and read them books about space or aquatic animals.

“I hope Katy’s not there,” she spoke bitterly.

“Why?”

Elena seemed to hesitate with her answer, looking at her dad for a brief moment.

“I told her you were working as a janitor and she started making fun of you,” she exclaimed.

“Oh,” Kowalsky said nonchalantly. “Well honey, that doesn’t matter.”

“But she was being mean about it!”

“Honey, I honestly couldn’t give less of a fuck if people made fun of my job, and if they get on your nerves, just ignore them.”

“Oh yeah because that has always worked,” Elena said in pure sarcasm. Kowalsky couldn’t help but grin. While ignoring them wasn’t gonna make them go away or stop, he thought it would be a better alternative to have her punch their lights out. Especially of a terminally ill kid.

“I know that you’re working hard, and I’m not ashamed of being your daughter. I’m very proud of you,” Elena admitted, patting her dad’s arm lightly. Kowalsky smiled warmly at her.

“Am I not supposed to say that to you?” he asked.

“I can say it too,”

He chuckled. “Alright… You’re going to bed now,” he put his hand on her forehead and playfully shoved her down towards her pillows. Elena let out a scream of surprise and Bastard fled from her lap and onto the floor.

“But I get dizzy when I lay down,”

Kowalsky placed a couple of pillows and stuffed animals beneath her head to elevate it.
“Better?”

“... Yeah,”

He raised her blanket to cover her fully. “Want the wig off?”

“The wig comes off when the wig comes off,” Elena explained.

“Yes ma’am,” he got up from her bed and turned the lights off to her room, taking a look at his daughter before speaking. “Do you feel better?”

Elena pondered on that question for a bit, probably relaxing her body and feeling it. “Not… really,”

“Need me to find a bucket?”

She nodded.

Kowalsky left and returned with one from the garage and placed it beside the bed, gently ruffling her hair and then leaning down to give her a kiss on the top of her head.

“You get some sleep now, okay?”

“You too,” she closed her eyes and got comfortable while Kowalsky walked out. “Oh wait, I almost forgot. Your boss called,”

Kowalsky almost felt like his neck snapped as he whipped his head around and as much as he wanted to scowl, he forced on a smile.

“ What? ”

“Yeah he kept calling and I picked it up and he told me to tell you,” she explained. “Also, why is he in your contacts as Asshole Boss ?”

“It's… a joke. I’m in his phone as Punny janitor,” he lied. Elena turned her head with judgy eyes.

“Dad, no has you in their phone as that,”

“... Hush. Now, get some sleep,” Kowalsky ignored her insult and closed the door behind him. He sighed, thinking Jim would most likely call him out to a new and even bigger location to clean up. Maybe someone had accidentally put pineapples on his pizza or something. The aching pain returned to his legs and walking to the kitchen had him wanting to admit himself into the hospital for numb legs.
He found his phone on the counter and unlocked it, seeing he had 21 missed calls.

“That’s quite excessive,” he mumbled. He called him back and waited for a moment as the phone rang, until it got picked up.

“Kowalsky! ” Jim greeted from the other side, trying to sound friendly, but after 21 missed calls, Kowalsky felt like the man was maybe just a tad bit irritated. “Where’ve you been? ”

“At work,” Kowalsky replied very monotonously.

“School ended a bit late eh? ”

“Other work,”

“Ah, ”

“So, what do you want from me now? Shot up an orphanage?” Kowalsky asked, earning him a laugh from Jim.

“Kowalsky, do you take me for a monster? ” the mob boss said amused.

"You’re just missing the horns,”

Jim chuckled. “ No, actually, I need something different from you. I’ve called up some of my guys and other workers to a cabin I own for a little… party, ” he hesitated as the last word, as if he was looking for the best and nicest word to use. “ And I need you to show up as well, ”

Kowalsky laughed half heartedly. “Gonna have to pass, worked the whole day and I smell like literal death,”

“Kowalsky I don’t care if you smell like a fucking pig’s den, you’re showing up here, today . ”

Kowalsky fought himself to not laugh at the oddly precise scenario.

“Apologies for speaking, but did you not hire me to just, clean?” He asked irritatedly.

“Yes and I got guys here for pushing and doing my garden work, no more complaining. Get over here, now. ”

Kowalsky groaned internally. “Fine.” 

-------

Kowalsky drove the address Jim had given him. There was no way he could memorize it so he wrote it down as fast as he could. It was a good distance out of town, and very isolated and secluded. Kowalsky thought of how good of a murder location this would be. Nobody would be out here, so there’d be no witnesses, and no one would know where Jim could be hiding. 

He’d maybe spent 5 minutes driving on a nicely laid gravel road that eventually led to the aforementioned cabin that Jim owned. Kowalsky looked at the massive cabin in a mixture of awe and dumbfoundedness. All the windows around the house had the curtains pulled but light peeked through almost all of them. Why did Jim get such a big place if he also wanted to be hidden? This place was the least bit inconspicuous. Maybe it’s personified by his ego. 

Kowalsky jumped out of his truck that he’d parked close to the path out and onto the marble gravel path and glanced around the front yard and parking space. Cars of mainly dark colors had been parked around, horrendously and uneven. Kowalsky judged their parking skills and shook his head. The plants and flowers look surprisingly well taken care of. Kowalsky didn’t take Jim for a plant guy, even if he did pay someone to do it for him.
He spotted a moving silhouette by the stone steps to the door into the cabin, seemingly eyeing Kowalsky. It wasn’t a silhouette he could recognize, and they were smaller in stature and height than Jim. Kowalsky rolled his sore shoulders and stuffed his hands in his pants pockets and walked towards the entrance. There was no way he could avoid talking to the guy, so he just prepared himself.

The guy’s eyes looked up at Kowalsky as he came closer and smirked at him before standing up, relieved. “Awesome. We’ve all been waiting on you ,”
Kowalsky quirked a brow. “Touched,” he deadpanned. He looked at the younger guy and recognized him. He was the boy who had a gun to his back at his own home. Kowalsky recognized him, and the guy surely recognized him as well with the way he was smirking.

“You gonna move?”

“Riiight, right,” the guy turned and opened the wooden door with a metal handle. “Welcome to the Cozy cabin. Mingle.”

Kowalsky had absolutely no intentions of mingling with anybody in this meet-up. He took a deep breath to prepare himself but hid it as a sigh of annoyance. He heard a multitude of mixed voices from the inside and low playing music.
Kowalsky walked past the guy and inside the house, which somehow happened to expand even further. He looked up and the ceiling could only be reached with an extension ladder. There was a staircase leading up to the second story and Kowalsky could see up to the railing and a few doors leading to the rooms. The inside of the cabin had a surprisingly cozy feeling to it, if it wasn’t from the faint noises of people and music.

“Who needs a mansion like cabin?” Kowalsky muttered in disbelief.

“Yeah uh,” The guy spoke up. “That way,” he pointed to a half open door to their right that led away from the entrance. Kowalsky disliked the fact he was walking further away from his only known exit and into a room with people hired by Jim. Which made him think, would Jim also be in there? Please don’t be.

“Is… Jim going to be here?” Kowalsky asked.

“You mean Big Jim?”

“No I mean Jim from the Ice cream shop,”

The guy rolled his eyes and shook his head. “He’s not here,”
That was both a relief to Kowalsky, but also a worry. If things go south, Jim wouldn’t be there to set his people straight.

“Terrific,” he faked excitement.

“I know right,” the guy went along with the little game of pretend. “Oh, and if you hear a gun go off, just duck for like, five seconds and you’ll be fine.”
He couldn’t tell if the guy was joking or if this was just an everyday occurrence whenever a get together was planned for these people. If he got too uncomfortable he’d fake an emergency call from Elena- wait, nope. Doesn’t have his phone on him. Fake nausea? Might be a bit too obvious but it could work.

The guy opened a door and the previously muffled music almost blasted him in the face. Kowalsky winced at the sudden murder of his eardrums with music he’d never heard before. The music was mixed with many new voices he didn’t recognize, and he was harshly reminded why he skipped most events the school hosted for staff and faculty. Socializing. This time however it was with strangers ranging in different ages, and they were all here because they worked for Jim. He wondered if there were others like him who were hired to do other things than push drugs and rob people in alleyways, or whatever these guys did. He did mention he had guys here who worked his gardens.

He peeked inside the room and was thankfully not being paid any attention to by the others as they seemed busy in conversation with bottles and empty glasses all over the tables, alongside dice and cards.
The guy next to him had vanished and walked over to two other guys and formed a little group away from the masses, and they weren't the only ones. They leaned up against walls or sat backwards on some chairs and created circles with their backs to everyone else in the room.

He could tell the room had been cleaned and prepared for tonight, but it had already been trashed a bit, and none of the guys had taken their probably dirty shoes off.

Kowalsky wondered if he should just leave now and use up one of his made up excuses, until he spotted someone familiar. Tyler.
The feel of growing dread quickly minimized as he spotted a familiar face and he left the spot he was standing in to go talk to Tyler.

The younger man had his back to him and was busy studying the snacks and different drinks on the table that had been selected for the men to take. Kowalsky saw his opportunity.

“Boo,”

Tyler flinched away from Kowalsky in surprise and yelped, but not loud enough for anyone to care. It took him a second afterwards to register that Kowalsky was the one who had snuck up on him with ease.

“Ko… Kowalsky?”

“Tyler,” He greeted in return, putting on the best warm smile he could at the moment, but with the life in his eyes drained and having been up for hours , he guessed he looked far from friendly.
Tyler calmed down from the initial shock and looked at Kowalsky with confusion and doubt, arching his eyebrows and eyeing Kowalsky from top to bottom.

“... Why are you here? No offense,”

“Absolutely none taken,” Kowalsky reaffirmed. “I was… thoroughly persuaded,”

Tyler blinked in confusion.

“Jim told me to get my ass over here, and considering he knows where I fucking live and work, I wasn’t gonna fight him on that,” Kowalsky explained, grumbling while mentioning the middle parts. While Tyler might not have given out his information, it is still plausible, but Jim’s people do seem more than capable of finding those things out themselves.

“Ahh… Which Jim?” Tyler asked, stunning Kowalsky.

“... Unbelievable,”

“Hey man, we got Jimmy the accountant, the guy who delivers our pizzas-””

“Tyler which Jim do you fucking think?”

The younger man’s face lit up as he seemed to get it. “Big Jim,”

“I’m not calling him that anymore,” Kowalsky stated. Tyler took note of the fact and made a weird look at his friend, a mix of worry and confusion.
What happened? He thought.

“Well then,” Kowalsky switched the subject, looking at the two different beverages in Tyler’s hands. “Planning on getting wasted?”

“What? Oh, no. Not really. Just debating which one of these will make me look cooler,” he mumbled the last part, seemingly embarrassed that he admitted it to Kowalsky. The man had a way of making Tyler nervous.

“I’d honestly rather have you settle for water or a coke,” Kowalsky suggested. “Vomiting your guts up in a bush outside doesn't really scream cool .” 

Tyler wanted to retaliate against Kowalsky’s teasing, but the older man was right. Everytime Tyler drinks it is as if it's always his first time, and overall his alcohol tolerance sucks. His worst mistake was challenging Kowalsky to a drinking match and falling off his chair three times while Kowalsky looked on in disappointment. At least he always had fun.

Tyler mumbled a sound of agreement and picked up a coke from the much smaller supply of beverages.

“You need something?” He asked.

“No, I’m good. Drove here,” Kowalsky explained.

“Sodas are still an option,”

“I’m not really thirsty,” he excused himself. Tyler eyed him curiously but shrugged his behavior off and took a gulp from the aluminum can.
Suddenly the music Kowalsky had become somewhat accustomed to in the short minutes he’d been there suddenly shifted and it blasted his eardrums to pieces. Even Tyler seemed to flinch at the new volume.

“Do you wanna go outside?” Tyler asked, raising his voice.

Kowalsky squinted his eyes. “Do I wanna do or die?!”

Tyler and Kowalsky sat down outside on the cold stones of the cabin’s terrace. Tyler shuddered at the sudden change in temperature and unfolded his sleeves to his wrists. Kowalsky on the other hand embraced the cold air as he sat down, finally getting to rest his still sore legs.

Tyler handed the older man a glass of water he’d managed to snatch and sat down next to him.

“So, how’ve you been?” he asked. “Big Jim treating you well?”

Kowalsky made a sound of annoyance. “Sure, let’s say that.”

“And Elena?”

Kowalsky pondered for his next answer. What could he say? All that was on his mind when thinking about Elena was their conversation earlier that day and how she looked. Unwell.
“Still fighting,”

Tyler smiled reassuringly. “That’s great to hear, and her studies?”

“Still smarter than you, but that’s honestly not saying much.” Kowalsky flashed Tyler a mischievous smirk and the younger man seemed offended for a second, before reverting to his friendly gaze. “No, it really doesn’t,” he agreed and went for another take of his soda.

“How about you Tyler? What have you been up to?”

Tyler finished abruptly and looked at Kowalsky. “I’ve… I’ve done a lot,” he started. “First of all, ever since Rob’s unfortunate passing I’ve taken over his role and was basically handed over all of his work. It had a few flaws that I then had to fix, and then I spotted a marketing opportunity-”

Tyler continued his rambling and Kowalsky did his best to keep up with the younger man despite him talking at the speed of sound. His lack of sleep and hunger was slowly getting to him as well.

“And then!” Kowalsky juddered in surprise as Tyler suddenly raised his voice. “I met Trisha and thing’s have been going so well. I mean, she’s got me attending therapy,”

Kowalsky almost perked up with interest and raised a brow. “Oh?”

“She’d love it if I stopped using it, so … I’m trying. Don’t tell her though, I wanna surprise her.” Tyler beamed at the last part, imagining how Trisha would react to finding out and daydreaming how proud and happy she’d be for him. His cheeks flushed and Kowalsky chuckled.

He could honestly say he was proud of Tyler as well, seeing him come this far. “Glad things have worked out for you so well,”

“Thanks man,” Tyler took another sip of his drink, and soon his once lit up expression faltered and turned to shame. Kowalsky glanced at his untouched water awkwardly and raised an eyebrow at him, but didn’t nudge whatever he was thinking about. He let the man have a couple of seconds to himself before he spoke. “I’m sorry for getting you involved with all of this,”

Kowalsky looked up at Tyler who attempted to have eye contact, but often glanced away. Kowalsky correctly guessed the younger man was still guilty about it. He ran his hand through his dark graying hair, and flashed Tyler a tired but friendly smile.

“Thank you, Tyler.”

“I swear, I really don’t mean to fuck up as much as I do. I wanna change that,” Tyler explained. “I need to stop ending up in those situations where I drag people down with me.”

“Admitting you need help is a good step, Tyler.” Kowalsky praised, clapping Tyler on his shoulder with reassurance. The younger brunette nodded his head, less in agreement and more of acceptance.

“Think dad hates me?”

The question had Kowalsky tense up, as Tyler usually wanted to avoid talking about his dad. He was looking down at the ground, rubbing his fingers against his knuckles.

“I don’t think… your dad… could ever hate anybody ,” he answered. “Especially not his own son… No matter how stupid he is.”

Tyler couldn’t help himself smile at Kowalsky’s usual playful ridicule. “And you?”

“Hmm… I get angry at you, a lot. Sometimes I do wish to strangle you but hate? Nah, there’s other people more worthy of that title.”

“... Like Big Jim?” Tyler questioned, having picked up on the few hints he had gotten from Kowalsky, who’s whole mood suddenly soured at the mention of their boss.

“Pretty much,” he confirmed. “Guy’s a bucket spilling, crazed gun waving son of a bi-”

“Whoa whoa!” Tyler interrupted him, panicking. They were silent for a few seconds as Tyler glanced back into the cabin’s room where the other men were sitting in foldable chairs, laughing and shouting with alcohol in the air. “Careful man, they could have heard you.”

The janitor rolled his eyes, unphased. “Tyler they’re drunk past the point of no return, their attention span is shortened to minus ten,”

“You don’t wanna underestimate these guys man,”

Just as Tyler warned him, a guy on the inside tried to walk out the door to the hallway, but walked into the door instead, making such a loud thumb that both Kowalsky and Tyler could hear it clearly.

“I think you’re right Tyler,”

“Oh shut up. Most of them are anyway, my friends for example. ”

Kowalsky sighed. His attitude right now reminded him of when the boy was younger and tried to prove a point of his. The only times he’d shut up about it was when he and Paul falsely believed him. Maybe it had taught him that strategy would always work. Once again, Kowalsky regretted his life decisions. But then he ran the words through his mind. Friends?

“Your what?”

Tyler smirked. “Believe me or not, but I am actually great at making friends.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah, the guys really like me, they’ve said so. They especially prefer me over Rob.” Tyler explained.

“I’d hope so,” Kowalsky mumbled. If anyone preferred Rob, Kowalsky would like to hear them out why. Just out of pure curiosity, no other motive.

“Yeah, and!” Tyler sat up straight and proud, beaming with pride. “Big Jim even said I am one of the most loyal and best gangstas he’s ever hired,”

Kowalsky looked at the proud Tyler and physically struggled to not dissolve into a laughing mess. “I’m sure he did, buddy,” he laughed silently.

“He also mentioned you,” Tyler mumbled and took another sip of his drink, almost turning it on its head for the remnants of the soda.

Kowalsky’s interest peaked, just a little. “Oh? Did he mention a raise?” he asked, not expecting his wish to be fulfilled.

“No, sorry. Just that he’s happy it was me he hired and that you came along as well.”

Kowalsky raised an eyebrow to Tyler, who didn’t seem to understand the reason behind it.

“He’s buttering you up Tyler,”

“No, he said he means it.”

Kowalsky chuckled in defeat and mumbled a quick “Alright.” and finally took a sip of the water he’d been given, thankful that it didn’t taste funny.

“There you are, man!” It sounded from behind them. A younger guy from the party slipped the terrace door open and made eye contact with Tyler, who looked dumbfounded. Kowalsky looked over his shoulder disinterested and caught a look at the guy and recognized him from the same night as the other guy. He was there too, he was the one who kept Elena separated from them. He had messy brown hair like Tyler, but it seemed to have been done intentionally. His name escaped Kowalsky’s mind.

“Hey Adam… am I in trouble?” Tyler asked, concerned but hiding it behind a playful tone.

“Trouble? Nah. But Bennet is! He’s losing to Frank at pool,” Adam explained.

Tyler snorted. “Bennet playing pool? Against Frank? Is he mental?”

“Jury’s still out,” It was just then Adam noticed Kowalsky sitting next to Tyler, he had his chin resting in his palm as if he was listening in on their conversation and thought of things, but really he was doing his best to seem awake.

“Oh, he’s here too?” Adam asked. Only physically, Kowalsky replied in his foggy mind.

“Yeah, Big Jim seemed to have thoroughly persuaded him,” Tyler answered and air quoted the word “thoroughly” in a mostly mocking way.

“Cool… cool,” Adam seemed wary of Kowalsky’s presence and eyed him curiously before turning his full attention back to Tyler. “Did I mention they made a bet? Bennet and Frank?”

Tyler seemed excited at the new facts. “No.”

“If Bennet won, Frank would have to try out every single alcohol option tonight,” he explained.

Tyler grimaced at that. “Ew,” He commented.

“And if Frank wins, which let’s be honest, he will, he’d take Bennet’s new car out for a drive,”

Tyler’s mouth opened agape. “Holy shit… I need to call shotgun,”

“Nuh uh, get in line!” Adam playfully nudged Tyler to emphasize his point, earning him a snort from the new guy. “Frank’s got like, two balls left and the cue, and Bennet has like, five.”

“Let me guess, Frank’s going easy?” Tyler guessed.

“No, he’s just enjoying the torment. Wanna join?” He pointed his head to the door as an invite to Tyler, who gladly took him up on that offer and nodded enthusiastically. Adam walked back inside and Tyler followed suit, but not before looking back at Kowalsky confused. “Aren’t you coming?”

“Excuse me?” Now they were both equally confused. Kowalsky couldn’t think of a single reason why he'd go with him. In fact, if Tyler was distracted, he’d just have an easier time leaving now.
Tyler and Adam ignored Kowalsky's obvious confusion and walked back into the loud room. Kowalsky saw an opening, as the boys disappeared and everyone else in the room was nearly shitfaced, he could slip out. He went inside quietly and stuck to the wall on the side of the door to his exit. He just managed to grab the knob before someone caught him.

“Kowalsky, where are you going?” Tyler asked, having seemingly teleported behind Kowalsky without notice.”

“Oh, uhh… Nowhere,” He lied. He didn’t know how convincing it was as he didn’t have the energy to put on an Oscar worthy performance. Tyler looked at him puzzled.

“Alright, if you’re going nowhere , wanna join me and the others at the pool table?” he inquired.

Kowalsky’s eye twitched in frustration. He really should’ve just said he needed to use the bathroom.

“Sure,” he answered mumbly, rubbing his eyes mostly in regret but disguised as sleepiness. He followed Tyler over to the pool table where Adam and the aforementioned Bennet and Frank were playing against each other. Kowalsky could guess which one of them was Bennet by his facial expression of realization that he was losing to his friend. He was seemingly younger than his friends, so young that Kowalsky thought he finally got voting rights.
Frank, the guy who was currently winning, he could recognize; it was the guy who showed him inside. He was giving his friend a winning smirk as the kid was pondering his next move. Since last, Frank had shot his second ball in a corner and had one solid ball left, and Bennet had five.

They looked up at the two as they approached and only gave Kowalsky a second's glance before looking back at Tyler with a friendlier expression.

“Where’d you disappear to, Ty?”

“Just outside. Catching up with Kowalsky here,” he padded Kowalsky on his shoulder, who afterwards crossed his arms and glared at Tyler, who chuckled in fear.

“Oh yeah,” Bennet perked up and became the first of the new guys to make clear eye contact with Kowalsky, looking into his bright and round blue eyes. It was a bit unsettling. “You’re that cleaner Big Jim hired. It’s a cool job,”

“Thanks,” Kowalsky replied, not really believing what Bennet was saying.

“Imagine being paid to clean up after people,” Bennet suggested to Frank and Adam, who exchanged glances between each other, having a silent conversation about him.

“Well, it’s not like you guys are trying to keep things clean,” Tyler teased, playfully punching Bennet’s shoulder but clearly not hurting him. Bennet’s face lit up with curiosity.

“Was it bloody?”

“What was?” Kowalsky inquired.

“Tyler’s little encounter with Rob. He refuses to elaborate. How bloody was it? Blood on the walls?” Bennet asked enthusiastically.
Adam perked up as well. “Yeah how’d Rob look? Guts on the floor? Was he dismembered? Was his head bashed in?” He seemed to grow more excited at each question he asked. Frank meanwhile ignored his friends and clearly wanted to win the pool game already. Tyler glanced away embarrassed.

Kowalsky looked at the two enthusiastic guys, blinked thoughtlessly for a few seconds before responding. “That’s classified.”
Bennet’s face dropped while Adam’s brows furrowed. “Classified my ass,” he said angrily.

The wide eyed boy scrunched up his nose and blinked in confusion. “Have you cleaned a crime scene up today?”

Before Kowalsky could ask why he would ask that, he answered his unspoken question. “You stink of death,”

“I try,” he deadpanned.

“So who was it?”

“How did they die?” Adam chimed in once more.

“Still classified,”

The boys groaned in unison and Tyler looked at the three with a concerned look on his face.
Frank sighed. “Can we get on with this, Bennet?” he signaled towards the half empty pool table where Bennet’s balls were the majority of the remaining ones left.

He groaned in frustration. “I don’t want you to drive my car though. What if you crash it?”

“Sorry, a bet is a bet.”

Bennet sighed loudly, and did his best to give Frank pleading puppy eyes, who in turn shook his head with a grin.

“... You guys wanna give it a shot?” Bennet extended the cue stick to the rest of them, inviting them to take a shot in his game.

“Not you Adam,” Frank corrected.

“What, why?” He seemed offended.

“Because last time you were losing you used your last shot to hit me in the head with the cue ball,”
Adam accepted his defeat, but smiled at the memory mentioned.

“How about you mister classified?” Bennet offered the stick in Kowalsky’s direction. “You good at pool?”

Kowalsky accepted the cue stick and gave a nonchalant shrug with his shoulders. “I might know a trick or two,”

He looked at the table and looked over every tactic he could use on the balls and picked the one he’d get in for sure. He lined the cue stick up, and hit the cue ball which rammed into number 11 who knocked off the side, and into a corner hole. Success.

Kowalsky looked up at Frank to read him and saw him quickly hide away a twitching eye. “I’m gonna continue if you don’t mind,”
Frank scoffed but signaled him to continue, and he did.

Kowalsky smothered the stick with chalk and proceeded to knock in the remaining striped balls on the table.
Adam tilted his head in bliss, while Bennet was shaking a proud Tyler with glee. Frank however didn’t seem as enthused as his friends.

“Bets a bet?” Kowalsky repeated to Frank, who smirked with annoyance.

“Bets a bet,” he mumbled.

With that, Kowalsky shot the 8 ball in, and the cue ball itself not too long after.
He looked over to see Frank’s reaction, only to see him standing still, not having moved. Bennet leaned over with a wide smug grin.

“I’m gonna go and get you some drinks to start off with,”

Adam’s eyes lit up with fire. “Oh fuck let me join,”

When the two guys were gone and Tyler had turned his attention back to them, Frank walked over and snatched the cue stick out of Kowalsky’s loose grasp. “What was that for?” he demanded.

Kowalsky looked down at him sternly, eyes dark. “Don’t put a gun to my back again kid,” 

The next couple of minutes went by fast. Bennet and Adam had found a couple of different drinks for Frank to start out with and the boy did not seem pleased at all and kept shooting daggers at Kowalsky, blaming him for his outcome. Kowalsky however did not feel amused or satisfied. The only thing he wanted to do was go home to his daughter, and maybe sleep until next week. She might have woken up and was now awake sick without her father in the house. He’d wanted to call her but he left his phone home like he always does when he’s at work. At this point he regretted not having a burner phone yet.

The only thing calming him down was the reminder that Elena was smarter than most kids her age, and she did have Bastard and Dexter to her comfort.

Tyler spoke up, snapping Kowalsky away from his thoughts. “Hey Kowalsky, you okay?”

“Hm? Oh, no. I’m very tired,” he replied honestly.

“Ah, fair. Well, me and the boys are gonna play some poker, you wanna join?”

Kowalsky was quick with an excuse. “Actually, I need to use the bathroom,”

“Oh yeah that’s fine, know where it is?” Tyler asked.

Fuck. He couldn't just say yes, he’s never been here before, and Tyler knows that. So he won't just let him wander around.
He replied by shaking his head and Tyler proceeded to lead him out of the room and into the cabin’s massive front room and up the stairs going to the left side.
Kowalsky looked around the massive place in awe. Tyler seemed accustomed to it however. Not batting an eye and seeming focused getting Kowalsky to the bathroom.

“Just down that hallway, first door to the left.”

“Thanks,”

Tyler walked back down to rejoin his friends while Kowalsky found the room, walked in and closed the door, and immediately started cursing at himself. Regretting every decision he’s made today. From leaving Elena home alone while she was sick, to not just telling Tyler he was going to leave in case he’d report back to Jim that he’d left so quickly. He didn’t know why the man wanted him to be there so badly, and he really wishes he pretended to have been asleep when he got the call. So stupid, so fucking stupid. 

He rubbed his eyes tired and agitated, pondering his next move. He couldn’t stay in the bathroom the whole evening. No matter how… shiny it was. Light reflecting off the mirror and walls which made it almost blinding. Kowalsky could only imagine the nightmare of going in here in the middle of the night and feeling like you’re getting blinded by the sun.

He stayed in there for maybe five minutes before he started drifting off while leaning against the wall. He’d jolt to wake himself up and try to keep himself awake with his thoughts, but it was as if his brain decided he’d thought enough today and was incapable of doing anymore of it. 

Kowalsky psyched himself up for going back. Going to socialize with Tyler and people who broke into his house using his daughter… Yeah, he wasn’t good at making situations sound better for himself.
He unlocked the bathroom door and entered the hall again, but stopped dead in his tracks as his already tired and dazed eyes made eye contact with someone else's, just as surprised as his’. He recognized them, but didn’t believe it. He rubbed his eyes in disbelief at what he was seeing, but accepted reality when they didn’t go away.

Jim chuckled. “Checking to see if you’re dreaming?”

edit to add:
Basically how it went down,

Chapter Text

Jim chuckled. “Checking to see if you’re dreaming?”

“No, nightmare,” Kowalsky corrected with a grumble.

Why was he here? No one supposedly knew he was here. Why was he up here then?
Kowalsky blinked, trying to come up with a reason, but couldn't. His tired mind was blank.

Jim seemed to be more relaxed this evening as he wore a black button up shirt with the top buttons undone and black pants, almost blending into the background. He’d been very silent too. Kowalsky hadn’t heard him at all, and the music from downstairs was pretty faint as well.

“What are you doing up here?”

“What are you doing up here?” Jim asked back.

“Looking for a hidden gambling room. You?” Kowalsky deadpanned.

“Supervising,” he finally replied. Kowalsky raised a brow at that. “You didn’t think I’d let those idiots be alone on my property, did you?”

“I was curious about that,” he commented truthfully.

“What are you doing up here anyways Kowalsky?” Jim asked. “Thought everyone was downstairs,”

“They are, but the bathrooms up here. Besides, really think I’d spend my evening with your people?” he didn’t intend to put emphasis on the word, but Jim didn’t seem to bat an eye at the jab. In fact, he let out a laugh.

“No, I suppose that’s fair,” He looked at Kowalsky, pondering, eying him up and down.

The cleaner furrowed his brows. “What are you doing?”

“Debating,” Jim quickly answered. He looked back up to Kowalsky’s dark and tired eyes. “Just so I’m sure, you don’t care about any of this, do you?”

“Nope.” Kowalsky replied quicker than he’s ever done before.

“Splendid,” Jim said, rather pleased. He turned to the wall where a decently big canvas hung on the wall representing a warmly lit landscape of farms and forests. He slid his hand below the frame and Kowalsky heard a beep and then a mechanical click. He stood in bewilderment as Jim proceeded to swing the frame out as if it was a door and then climb over the wall and into a hidden room.

Jim looked up at him and smiled, amused. “It’s not the secret gambling room you were looking for but I hope it’ll suffice.”

“I- what-... s-sure,” he stammered, still dumbfounded.

He followed over the half wall as well, stepping into a cozy hidden room, warmly lit up by pretty candle lights hanging on the wall. The room was rather narrow but Jim still found space for bookshelves and cabinets. On the other end was a desk with a monitor and keyboard, alongside office supplies and papers spread across it, and in front of it was a big comfortable chesterfield chair. By the looks of it, Jim was doing some work while “supervising” the boys downstairs.
The painting was the only way out the windowless room, and as Kowalsky took a step inside, it quietly and slowly closed, locking itself with a few mechanical clicks.

“Gambling room downstairs then?” he deadpanned.

Jim chuckled and glanced at him with a playfully raised eyebrow. “No, sorry. It’s in the other cabin,” he joked. Whether he had another cabin was quite probable however.
Jim walked over to a liquor cabinet and pulled out a pre opened bottle of whiskey.

“Want some?” he asked.

“Oh, Uh, no I’m good. I’ll pass,” Kowalsky replied, a bit surprised at the offer. “I drove here, and I’m planning to stay here as little as possible,”

“Aw come on, I thought you russians had a pretty high alcohol tolerance?” Jim questioned.

Kowalsky stared at him in disbelief for a couple of seconds, comprehending what he just said. “... I’m polish,”

Jim took one second to recognize his mistake but brushed it off. “It’s almost the same,”

“I beg your finest fucking pardon?”

Jim ignored Kowalsky’s objection and proceeded to pour a glass for himself and fished a simple plastic water bottle out from a cabinet and tossed it to Kowalsky, who caught it.

“Sit,” he offered, gesturing to the big resting chair in front of the desk. The chair itself was out of place. If this was a secret office kind of room, why’d he have a second chair in here?
Kowalsky sat down, still wary of Jim, but got startled as the chair almost swallowed him. It was smooth and comfortable and looked very expensive from the feel of the material. Jim sat down opposite Kowalsky in the office chair behind the desk.

“So, Kowalsky,” Jim started. “How's it going for you so far?”

“In regards to what?”

“Settling in here. I don't imagine you've worked for organized crime before,” he explained. “Hope my men didn't scare you down there,”
Kowalsky couldn't stop himself from scoffing. Scared? By them? It felt like he was a great dane babysitting energetic blind puppies.

“My daughter is scarier than them,” Kowalsky emphasized.

“By intelligence definitely,” Jim agreed amused. “How is the little girl by the way?”

“She’s alright,” Kowalsky replied. He wasn't going to let Jim hear his grievances and use them to his advantage somehow. It was enough that he knew he had a daughter and where she could be at any time, and possibly her condition, but he wouldn't give him any more ammunition.

Jim eyed Kowalsky curiously. “Hope I'm not intruding with that question,”

“What do you think?” Kowalsky snarled back, glaring at him. Jim looked down at him, amused.

“Alright, I get it. You don't like me,”

“Who would?” He quickly added.

“That's fair. After all, I am but a, what was it now?” Jim asked but waited for no answer. “Bucket spilling, gun waving crazy son of a…?”

“Bitch,” Kowalsky ended it but was still surprised that Jim knew what he said about him, and that he seemed to find it more amusing than insulting. But how did he hear it? He’s a mob boss for fucks sake, Kowalsky thought. He doesn’t care about the law. He’s probably gotten the whole place bugged.

“As you can probably tell Kowalsky, the whole place is bugged.”
He knew it.

“So I can hear every little insult you make about me,” Jim continued. “You’re quite creative with wordplay,”

“It comes naturally,” Kowalsky grumbled. He didn’t have to put in much thought when talking about Jim, the insults come out completely genuinely. “How come you’ve bugged your own house?”

“When I pretend to leave my people alone in my house, it brings me a little comfort to listen in on their conversations, and-” he grabbed his monitor and turned it around to Kowalsky, showing him multiple hidden cameras Jim had placed in the room, out of view and sight of the drunken people on the floor and chairs. Kowalsky spotted Tyler and his friends laughing and huddling over a nearly passed out Frank. At least Tyler hadn’t found a ladder and walked off the roof of the house. “-See what the fuck they’re doing,”

Kowalsky raised an eyebrow. “Why would you have these parties at your own place then, if it means you have to hide away and monitor them as if they were kids?” he paused as he had another thought, that he’d rather want an answer to. “And why the fuck are you showing me this?!”

Jim looked at Kowalsky and changed his expression from amused to look more serious as the little light in his eyes faded tiredly. “Kowalsky I’ve been awake for thirty-two hours and here for at least five… I’m bored,” he explained. His tone changed as well, he sounded less like he was trying to intimidate or butter Kowalsky up, and more like a tired man who’s had enough of everyone else's incompetence. Kowalsky could relate a little bit to that, only a little though.

“Besides, you said it yourself. You don’t care about any of this,” he continued, putting a seemingly friendly smile back on his face. “What would you do? Inform the others?”

Kowalsky didn't answer and instead thought about it for a moment. The cloud colored haired man had a point. Why would he tell? And who was even an option? Tyler? No, the kid probably wouldn’t even be surprised Big Jim was watching over them. And overall, Jim was the one making him able to pay the bills. It’d be a damn right death sentence.
Kowalsky nodded and took a refreshing sip from his water. Waking him up a little bit.

“As for why I host it in my own home, one, I have my hide outs like this one,”'

“It’s cozy,” Kowalsky complimented. Jim seemed to have been caught off guard as he looked at him suspiciously, waiting for him to say something insulting, but he didn’t.

“Thank you?” he said with uncertainty and doubt. “And two, my own place is much easier to bug. You at one point was staring directly into one of cameras,”

“Huh,” Kowalsky hadn’t noticed. “I’m tired.”

“I assumed as much. Either that or you’re a really scary individual,” Jim joked. Kowalsky chuckled on the inside of the picture he made up in his head of him unknowingly staring into a camera with whatever face he was making at the moment, as he’s not a person who’s got a pleasant resting face.

“So, is spying on your men in your own home like a monthly thing? If so can I be excused,” Kowalsky asked, hoping for a yes to the last question.

“No and no,” Welp, there went his hopes and dreams.

“It’s just a good way to get them all drunk at the same time and location,” Jim continued to explain.

“Why do you need them drunk?”

“What do drunk people do? Talk. And what do they not do? Think,” he pressed a button on his keyboard and the computer's speakers started emitting sounds originating from the party room downstairs, probably from one of the bugs Jim had planted. It was from some men sitting at the table with empty bottles and glasses, one mentioning cheating on his girlfriend with her sister and another one admitting to stealing his mom’s money to spend for himself.
Jim pressed the button and muted the speakers.

“So you just listen in on people’s conversations and use what you can take and use it for future leverage?” Kowalsky asked. It seemed like a petty idea a high school girl would use in today's movies. There was a reason why Helen disapproved of the newer high school movies that were being released.

“No, that would just be sad,” Jim denied and shifted position in his chair, putting his elbows on his desk and hands by his chin like he was thinking. “Do you remember Mateo’s Pizza?”

“How couldn’t I? It was such an unforgettable experience,” he deadpanned. “And lesson,” saying the last part he stared into Jim’s eyes as if he was fishing for a memory. Specifically one including a bucket.
Jim chuckled and smiled, like he thought of that moment fondly. Which seemed odd to Kowalsky as the man in the moment acted like he was two seconds away from strangling the janitor with his strong hands.

“I’ve been trying to figure out which one of my men played a part in it,” Jim explained.

“Huh,” Kowalsky responded surprised himself. “You’re actually following up on that,”

“Yes, actually. They’re out to kill me and others, and I like to be alive,” he stood up from his chair and leaned over his desk, maintaining eye contact with Kowalsky. “And I know for certain, at least one traitor is down in that room, and I don't like traitors all that much,”

Kowalsky held the words “So I’ve seen” back from being spoken. He’s seen the aftermath of what Jim does to traitors and it wasn’t a glorious sight, rather a gore-ious one. Instead, a question flew out of his mouth.

“Then why am I here?” he asked, a bit angrier now.

“You’re close to Tyler,” he confessed. “Thought if he got wasted enough, he’d confide in you or something,”

Well, he did, Kowalsky thought. But it wasn’t what Jim wanted. Now he wondered if he heard their whole conversation or just listened once in a minute, and then Kowalsky felt a tuck of anger. He’d been called here to probe answers out of Tyler unknowingly. He’d been called here to be used as a tool and miss out on some of the best sleep of his life, which could only have been beaten by the first night he and Helen slept through without Elena waking up crying.

“I can rule Tyler out for you. He respects you too much,” Kowalsky replied truthfully. Tyler was an idiot, yes, and he didn’t always think before he acted, but he wasn’t brain dead. He’d definitely think twice about going behind Jim’s back of all people.
Jim thought about it for a moment, but still seemed skeptical about it, brushing Kowalsky’s words aside.

“Can’t be certain, for now, everyone’s a suspect,” he declared. Kowalsky raised a brow at that declaration and pointed a questioning finger at himself.
Jim scoffed. “You? You’re not that dumb. Besides, you couldn’t take such risks. Especially not with your daughter being at home,”

Kowalsky’s fingers almost clawed at the sides of the chair as he stared into Jim’s eyes daringly. This was the second time he’d brought her up, he's fishing for a reaction. “I’d like for you to stop mentioning my daughter. I get it. You know where I live, you don’t have to keep hammering it into my head,”

“Ah, that’s fair. Who else should I mention then? Your dog? Your wife?” Jim knew he was walking into dangerous territory with that question and his suspicions were confirmed when Kowalsky’s sudden mood changed from slightly annoyed at an inconvenience, to seething rage.

“Don’t,” he warned sternly. “Even-”

“Hey, hey, I get it. Wives are a delicate subject,” Jim raised his hands almost in a calming motion and sat back down in his chair. “Especially when you actually love them,” his voice was teasing, trying to draw a reaction out from Kowalsky, maybe to use as an excuse to punch him. Oh what the fuck, he’d do it without a reason. What was his plan here?

“Mine was lovely, she’d make some great homemade meals,” Jim continued, reminiscing. Kowalsky took notice in fact he talked about her in the past tense. She was lovely. He just hoped the woman moved away and left divorce papers on Jim’s table. She could do better than this maniac, whoever she was. “You?”

“... She read books,” Kowalsky replied coldly and shortly.

“So she was smart?” Jim guessed, semi correct. Kowalsky deemed she had bad taste in the romance books she read but left that knowledge in his mind. “And judging from the bachelor of education degree you have in the living room, I’m gonna guess she was a teacher?”

Kowalsky remained silent while staring.

“English? Literature? French?”

“English,” he finally replied, hoping if he gave Jim some mostly useless information it could shut him up. “She taught the younger grades, it’s how we met.”

Jim verbally awed at the information given and let out a chuckle. “That’s adorable,” he commented. “You fixing light bulbs in her classroom?”

“No, assembling a wooden desk that held drawers for her students,”

“She was helping?”

“To the best of her abilities,” Kowalsky found himself smiling on the inside at the mention of that memory. When reaching for something Helen had accidentally elbowed him in the face and wouldn’t stop profusely apologizing for a solid ten minutes.

“She sounds lovely,” Jim complimented and took a sip of his glass.

Kowalsky held his tongue from saying anything sarcastic or insulting to the man, as his comment didn’t hold a trace of malicious intent.
Instead, he grabbed his water and followed Jim’s lead by satisfying his thirst. “She was,” he agreed. Jim looked at Kowalsky in the meantime, not really saying anything.

“You sure you don't want anything from the cabinet?”

Kowalsky looked at him. “You got coffee?”

------

Jim brewed a simple black coffee and handed it to Kowalsky, the smell and warmth emitting from it waking his sleepy brain up from its sleep. He took a sip and he felt like breaking down. How long had it been since he’d had coffee? How long since he’d had enough energy to even stand up? He couldn't tell, and didn’t dare to stand up right now.

“Dzięki, kurwa, Bogu.” he muttered in relief.

“Was that polish?” Jim asked.

“No, russian,” Kowalsky earned himself a laugh from Jim and a rough pad on the shoulder, making him jolt.

“Can you say something more in polish?” He inquired.

Kowalsky internally groaned but turned and looked the older man in his eyes.
“Coś więcej,”

“What does that mean?”

“Something more,”

Jim sighed, semi defeated. “Anyone ever told you how funny you are, Kowalsky?”

“Absolutely not,”

And from then on, they just coexisted in that room for a good while. Kowalsky enjoyed his coffee and Jim sat at his desk, eyes glued to the screen. Every once in a while he'd turn the speakers on to listen in on conversations but he didn't get much out of them.

As for the two of them, they spoke a little. It was mostly whenever Jim had a question but they weren't anything interesting. Like;

“How long you’ve been in America?”
Couple of decades.

“What made you interested in being a janitor?”
It paid.

He knew he was being short answered, but he was too tired and socially drained to keep up a conversation. While the coffee was giving him a boost in energy and helping him stay awake, it didn't encourage him to engage with Jim.
The man didn't seem bothered by it though. He looked rather comfortable. Maybe he enjoyed his company?

Kowalsky scoffed at that. No, he couldn't possibly be enjoying it when Kowalsky wasn't even in it.
But every once in a while, Kowalsky would glance at Jim while he wasn’t looking. Just to get used to his face, and because he found himself spacing out. He was an odd man to him. He was focused on the screen, but very relaxed in his body. His nut brown eyes had darkened mainly from the lack of sleep, and his eyebags were hidden as wrinkles. His face wasn't half bad all things considered. The only “flaw” Kowalsky could point out was a guess that the man had probably gotten his nose broken once or twice.

As soon as Jim merely turned his head, Kowalsky pretended not to have stared at him.

“Looks like they’re back at it again,” Jim commented and turned the screen again and pointed to one of the cameras pointed right at the pool table. Tyler and his pals were playing again, and it seemed as if it was a game of Tyler versus Frank, who's stumbling over himself due to the amount of alcohol he has consumed this evening. Tyler at least seemed to be balancing correctly.

“You goin’ down there to teach them another lesson?” Jim asked.

“No, Frank learned his, I believe,”

“What was it he did again?”

“Kid had a gun to my back,”

Jim smirked playfully, as if teasing Kowalsky about being pissed off at having a gun pressed against your back till you can feel the cold metal.
“I’ll be sure to add that to the long list of things Mr. Kowalsky doesn't like,” he joked.

“That's not a list, that’s a bible,” Kowalsky corrected, getting a snort and a side eye from Jim.

“And I'm assuming a list of things you like is shorter?”

“As much as I hate to disappoint you, Jim, I do actually like things,” he gestured to his coffee mug. “For example,”

“How about pool then? You seemed pretty skilled in it, or were those just Lucky shots?” he inquired, leaning over his desk from his chair and looked into Kowalsky’s eyes.
Kowalsky didn't break eye contact as he himself leaned in from the edge of his seat. It became apparent to him how large Jim was to him. Almost twice his width and Kowalsky had to angle his head upwards to still look at him. Apparently Jim got a bit too uncomfortable with how close Kowalsky leaned in and moved himself back a couple of inches.

“No,” he answered. “I’ve been to bars before. Practised a lot,”

“Go figure I suppose,” Jim added. “Would love to have a game with you. Seems like it might be challenge,”

“I’ll let you know when my schedule allows it,” Kowalsky proclaimed, mostly joking. If he had any freetime it was spent sleeping or with his daughter and pets, not with his boss. He’d have to get paid for that.

“I’m sure you can find some a day or so,”
Kowalsky chuckled at the absurdity.

“That’s funny?” Jim asked.

“Kind of, yeah,” he confessed.

“How so?”

Kowalsky cleared his throat, almost as if he’d prepared for this moment to come.
“First of all, I still have my regular job where I work approximately eight hours a day, I have animals to feed and make sure they get their exercise, I have a daughter I have to make sure is ok and is fed and unharmed, and then I have to go clean up an immature man’s bloody tantrum, and then someone requires me to go to an unknown location to use as a form of bait,” he exhaled deeply as he finished and managed to catch his breath. “And that’s not even to mention all the other chores and maintenances I have to keep up with,”

While Kowalsky was semi venting, Jim was looking at him, almost waiting to see when he was done talking. “... I hope you didn’t just call me immature,” he warned.

“What? No. Someone else from today,” Kowalsky breathed a reply.

“Ah, that’s why I smell death from you,”

Kowalsky gave half a nod and brought the coffee back up to his mouth and welcomed the warm drink. “Chociaż nie powiedziałbym, że sam jesteś dużo lepszy,” he mumbled the insult. Jim squinted his eyes in suspicion and perked a brow.

“I can tell when someone insults me, Kowalsky,”

“You don’t seem all too bothered,” he inquired.

“The only reason why I haven’t slapped common sense back into you is because you’re the best fucking cleaner the underworld has ever had,” Jim explained. It definitely explained how Kowalsky was still alive after all the things he’s said and done, especially after working for Jim himself. “And apparently, also the cleaner with a massive amount of audacity,”

Kowalsky calmly sipped his coffee while getting complimented and insulted. “That tracks. But in my defense, you asked if I could say something more in polish,”

Jim stared at Kowalsky in disbelief for a couple of seconds before his head fell and he rubbed his eyes in defeat. “Alright, that’s it. Kowalsky, go home,”

It didn’t hit Kowalsky until a few seconds later that Jim was serious. Finally, home. Freedom. “That’s it? All I had to do was annoy you?”

“Yes and no, get out of my sight before I change my mind and have you go back downstairs to the others,”

Kowalsky quickly put the now empty mug on the table and stood back up on his weakened legs, almost stumbling as he stood up. “Consider me gone,”

He walked over to his only exit, that being the fake painting frame, and tried to gently push it open, but it didn’t budge. He pushed again, this time a bit harder, but it didn’t move. He looked back to Jim and gestured to the frame.
“It uhh, I think it’s stuck,”

The older man looked up with a pained smile, all done with Kowalsky’s shit.

Jim locked the exit up for Kowalsky and swung the door-painting open, eyeing down the hall to see if any drunkyards had wandered upstairs, but the coast was clear. Although, if anyone did somehow see this happen, Jim is skilled in the art of gaslighting, especially drunk people.

The janitor stepped over the half-wall and into the hallway.

“One last thing, Kowalsky,” Jim said before Kowalsky could go anywhere. “Not that you need to be told this, but don’t tell anyone about anything. Understand?” Kowalsky understood quite well.

“Tell people what? Nothing happened,” he deadpanned.

An amused smirk once again crept along Jim’s expression. “That’s what I like to hear,” He turned and walked away, the painting once again slowly closed on itself, clicking and locking back in place. Leaving Kowalsky with only one thought.

“Rich people,” he mumbled while shaking his head in disapproval.

He only had one goal left this evening. Get home. It seemed simple enough however. He found the stairs and walked down them, coming in closer to where the rest of his “colleagues” were being held and unknowingly spied upon. He could hear the life of the party had died down, making him start treading carefully and silently as he could. It did him no favors however, as Tyler bolted out through the open door and up to Kowalsky.

“Mr. Kowalsky!” he exclaimed with a reddened face.

“Tyler Paul Novak,” Kowalsky greeted back, Tyler needing a second to register what in the world Kowalsky just said to him.

“Oh, haha,” Tyler mocked. “Man I got worried, I got distracted and then I saw how much time had passed and- where’ve you been?”

“... I fell asleep,” he quickly lied. It seemed believable enough for him, and a buzzed Tyler wouldn’t question anything.

“In the bathroom?!”

Well, maybe except for that part.
“I’m tired. Speaking of which, I’m going home,” he informed. “Need a ride?”

Tyler didn’t answer and instead seemed disappointed. “Aw, already?” he pouted.

“Tyler, I've been here for a little more than two hours, I’m not staying any longer. Now, do you need a ride home?”

“Nah, I’m good. The boys and I have a foolproof plan to get home,” he announced. Kowalsky blinked disapprovingly. “Besides, I’d hate for you to see my new place like that. It’s also totally not cleaned, which, I know is your whole brand,” he pointed his finger in Kowalsky’s face and made a circle motion with it. Kowalsky gently grabbed Tyler’s arm and got it out of his face.

“Alright Tyler,”

“You should've come over though! At some other time- Oh! Like a moving in party thing! I can make food for the quests. I make killer Mac and Cheese,” he announced. Kowalsky nodded along, listening to Tyler’s ideas and proclamations. He did however doubt his last statement. If Tyler made anything it would be killing Mac and Cheese.

“I’ll check the calendar,” he promised and extended a hand for a farewell handshake to the kid. Tyler ignored the hand being offered and went in for a full hug of the janitor currently running on pure caffeine and no sleep. Kowalsky tensed up and he felt his heart speed up. Tyler and him weren’t known for being affectionate to each other so the hug more than surprised him. It made a little sense though, as Tyler’s unfocused pupils and reddened cheeks indicated he may have had more than a couple of drinks.

Kowalsky maneuvered his arm and gave Tyler’s back a couple of pads before the brunet let go of him. “You’re the best Kowalsky,” Tyler beamed.
At that point, Kowalsky felt a spear had been thrown and pierced his heart. Here Tyler was, being such a naive but overly nice friend, with no malicious intent behind any of his actions (this evening), and Kowalsky couldn’t help but reflect his own past behaviors towards the kid. Last time he saw, he yelled and scolded him. He was angry and let out pent-up aggression out on the boy, but he forgot who he was mad at. His deceased best friend’s kid, who he promised he’d look after, and there he was, yelling at him.

The memories tugged at his subconscious until he could take it no longer.
“Tyler,” Kowalsky started, getting the young man’s attention. “I’m… I’m sorry, for how I spoke to you last time we talked. It’s been on my mind for a bit, and I feel bad about what I said,”

Tyler focused on Kowalsky as the older man spoke, but his expressions changed to confusion at the end, as if he didn’t know what Kowalsky was talking about.

“... Tyler?”

“I forgot,” he admitted. Kowalsky facepalmed harder than he’s ever done before. The slap probably leaving a mark.

“Tyler I swear to god,”

“Hey, if I don’t remember it right now, then it probably isn’t that bad, right?” he suggested.

“Still, you’re an absolute moron,”

“Then nothing has changed. See, we’re good. I accept your apology,” he patted Kowalsky’s shoulder to reaffirm his stance and got a tired halfhearted chuckle out of the janitor.

“Glad to hear. Get home in one piece Tyler,” he clapped Tyler on his shoulder as a farewell before he turned, opened the doors to the cabin, leading to the very cold outside, which somehow smelt amazing.

“You too, get home safe,” Tyler called from the inside before he walked back to the door leading to the room where his friends presumably still were in. After he closed the door behind him, the quiet of the night finally hit him, as well as the cold air settling on his body. It felt refreshing. But it wasn’t gonna last.

He got into his car and fumbled with the CDs he had crammed into the glove box. Finding one of his favorite albums from Mr. President and popping it in, and starting his car. The radio lit up and the first song started, Up&Down, blasting through the speakers. He got himself out of the parking lot and drove down the gravel path, taking the chance to turn the volume up. He wanted to minimize his chances of falling asleep while driving and thought some good rock and metal music would help him achieve that. Which it did, as on his way home, he could only concentrate on the road, and the music being blasted into his ears. He found himself tapping his fingers and nodding along to the melody. Afterwards, the whole album was basically burned into his memory.

----------
Finally, he got home. Music still blasting from the speakers as he pulled into his garage but stopped once he removed the keys. He stepped out of his car and set the garage door to close, but didn’t bother to stay to make sure it was. He locked the door behind him and took off his shoes, groaning at the missed feeling of really being able to stretch his feet.

Thankfully, it didn’t seem like he’d woken anyone up, as neither Elena or any of the pets came out to greet him.
He was tired, so damn tired. He looked at his old couch, and it looked like the most inviting king sized bed he’s ever seen. He barely even needed to walk over there before he flopped down on it, moaning as he hit the soft pillows face first, and as he slowly turned his head to the side to be more comfortable, his bones cracked in places he didn’t know he needed to hear from. He was on cloud nine or twenty.

However when he woke up from his long and deep slumber, he was confused as he didn’t remember finding a blanket and covering himself with it, nor did he remember putting his shoes neatly to the side.
Elena, he thought and glanced down the hall to her room, where her bedroom door stood ajar and her lights were on. He figured he should go and see how she was holding up, hoping she’d gotten more sleep than him at least.

Chapter Text

Kowalsky and his daughter exited the building they have come to know and loathe over the past couple of years. This time with Elena dawning her dad's old torn fishing club's cap that she snatched from the garage before leaving.
He’d taken his daughter for a quick appointment with her doctor, wanting to see if there was any way to ease up her current condition before her scheduled hospital admission. After being mostly bed bound for a couple of days, she’d gathered enough strength and had started walking again, but running was out of the question at the moment. They had left with a couple of medications prescribed and given out by the doctor at the moment, which Kowalsky couldn't wait to receive the bill for. Elena cringed and hid her face with the cap as the lady at the desk told her father how much it would be and his method of payment.

As they made their way to Kowalsky's car, Elena didn't say much, though to be fair, she wasn't as chatty when it came to being in the hospital. Her father's worry grew as her loud silence continued.

“ Czy wszystko w porządku ?” He asked.

“I'm fine,” she muttered.

Kowalsky tilted his head and attempted to read her expression, but the cap was obscuring her face from his height.

“ Jesteś pewna ?” 

“Yes! Dad-” she took a quick breath before continuing. “Dad… I'm okay.”

As they reached the car, Kowalsky put a hand on her shoulder before she could hop in and got down on her level, nudging the front of the hat away from her face, getting a good look at her face. Her once rounded cheeks had sunken in and her eyes were tired and almost foggy. She looked younger, almost as if she’d shrunk. You could mistake her for an eight year old rather than a pre teen.

He looked into her eyes and asked again, reverting back to english to emphasise his worry. “Completely sure?”
Elena almost glared back at her dad, determined. “ Yes .”

Kowalsky eyed her up and down, looking for uncertain body movements, but she stood firm. He accepted.

“Alright then,” he got back up on his feet with a hand on his back. “I need to stock up on supplies from the store. Do you feel well enough to come with me?” He asked. “You can stay in the car if you dont-”

“No. Please. I wanna go with,” Elena interrupted her father, almost pleadingly. For Elena, her dad would spend nearly half an hour in each Isle, while Kowalsky claims to not even spend five minutes. Elena wasn't gonna wait all that time in the car, her phone wouldn't last that long. Besides, she hoped if she pleaded long enough she could get a snack for the evening.

--------

Kowalsky finally found a parking spot after having driven around the parking lot twice, and having his first parking space stolen by a car that didn’t blink.
If he had to push that driver or Jim over a cliff, the driver was going in first. Elena learned a whole new vocabulary as her dad then proceeded to cuss the driver out in polish.

“I don’t even wanna know what you called them,”

“Don’t worry, you’re not old enough to know,”

They grabbed a shopping cart and Elena immediately took control of it.
“I am so gonna nail my driving lesson in the future,” she boasted as she turned a corner and avoided hitting the back of a car. Kowalsky scoffed at her antics.

The sensors at the doors to the store detected the two of them and the doors slid open, welcoming them with the overwhelming loud noise of other shoppers crowding around the check out counters, and the constant beeping of items being bought.

His plan was to stock up on as much as he could so he wouldn’t have to go back for a while. 

“Oh! Turn here,” he instructed his daughter, pointing down the cleaning aisle. Elena gave an exhausted sigh.

“I really should’ve stayed in the car,” she grumbled. Her dad could spend up to twenty minutes in a cleaning supply aisle just looking for one item. If he was stocking up, she figured she could set up a tent and campfire before he was ready to head out.

“Oh hush you,” he playfully tipped the cap down over her face and she stumbled back and readjusted the cap.

“You already have a lot of soaps and whatnots,”

“Correction, I had a lot of soaps and whatnots. I need to restock,” he glanced over the many different brands but soon found his favorite detergents; Mr. Power and Ms. Clean. All sitting on a fine row next to each other with all their different purposes.

“If you want to marry them I’m only going to judge you a little,” Elena nudged her dad with her elbow as she teased him.

“Har har,” Kowalsky entertained. 

They got going again, this time with a much heavier cart, full of cleaning supplies and many cans of tomato soup, bags of coffee, frozen vegetables bags and boxes of mac and cheese. The tomato cans took up most of the space, probably because they were on sale, and Kowalsky couldn’t resist buying a dozen. 

Elena spotted an item by the kid’s toy aisles, stopping her in her tracks and looking at it in awe. Kowalsky paused when he noticed Elena stopped the cart and had her gaze fixated on a certain object. He walked over to where she was standing and tried to see what she was looking at, and it wasn’t hard. It was cute, and almost amusing. There were different pairs of kid slippers of different animals like cats, frogs, butterflies but most importantly, sharks.

Kowalsky chuckled. “Do you want ‘em?” he asked.
Elena nodded, not moving her eyes or head.

He leaned down to her level. “Then go get them,”

She finally looked back at her dad, almost waiting for him to say he was joking, but that wasn’t her dad’s style, and he meant it.
“I love you,” she quickly thanked him before she walked over and grabbed herself a pair of gray shark slippers. “Twenty dollars?!” she read the price in horror and looked back at her dad for reassurance. He just managed to shrug.

“I can afford to spoil my daughter,” he did think twenty dollars was pricey for a pair of easily breakable plastic shark slippers, but he’d gladly give that money away if it meant his daughter was happy. Which she was as she placed the slippers into the cart and started pushing again.

“Where to now? The registers?” She asked and gestured to their very filled cart of canned foods and cleaning supplies.

Kowalsky shook his head. “I thought we could go by the arts and crafts section first to, maybe, pick up some decorations,”

“Decorations?” she repeated, confused.

“Yeah, for your new room at the hospital,”

“... Oh,” she muttered, hiding her disappointment.

“Don’t worry, we’ll have your room looking wonderful. You’ve got an interior decorator working with you,”

Elena grinned. “Dad, you’re a janitor,”

“A janitor with hobbies,” he added.

“Reading books on interior decorating doesn’t make you an interior decorator, dad,”

Kowalsky pretended to ignore his daughter and started pulling the cart by the front towards the arts and crafts aisles. Glancing between the different items for ideas until one hit.

“Want to cut some stars out and stick them to the ceiling? That’d be cute, right?” He held up a piece of blue paper for reference.

“Stars are usually depicted as yellow,” Elena nitpicked.

“We can do both,” he replied, now also holding a yellow paper. “We can get started when we get home,”

“After we've made mac and cheese,” Elena insistantly added.

“After we've made mac and cheese,” he agreed, patting her on the head. He wasn't personally a fan of the pudge of cheese spiced with macaroni, but he liked to add some meats and vegetables to it. Elena put up with it however, knowing it was the only way her father would agree to it. “Let’s see if there’s any fairy lights for a good price. You know, to make it a bit more homey,” he suggested.
He did a bit of research beforehand and found out that fairy lights can really make a room pop even more. At least he hoped his books still held up. 

“You think they come in star shapes?” She asked.

“I’ll keep an eye out,” he promised. 

-----

They made it through the last section and were patiently waiting in line, Kowalsky leaning over by the handle and Elena in front, waiting to start unloading their cart. It was a busy day in the store however and they’d be waiting a while. 

They had found some small fairy lights that were star shaped for Elena, whose face beamed with excitement when she spotted the box. 

For now, this would be all for her room, but Kowalsky had a few more plans up his sleeves.

They stood still for a while and barely moved, the que being long and everyone having full carts. Kowalsky was beginning to space out, but flinched as his phone violently vibrated from his pocket. 

Elena noticed it too.

“Work?” She asked.

Kowalsky looked at the caller and sighed in frustration. Jim was calling him.

He nodded his answer and answered the call.

“Hello Jimmy, what do you need from me today?” Kowalsky greeted him, sounding a lot more polite than usual, which surprised himself.

He summed it up to regret his behavior from the last time they spoke at the cabin spy-out. He's surprisingly worse when sleep deprived than when he is drunk. 

He cringed at the memories of that evening, and wondered how Jim didn't snap his neck when the man very much could. 

Jim tried to speak first in the call, but got interrupted by Kowalsky, and was too stunned in bewilderment to speak for a few seconds. 

“ Never call me that again, Kowalsky. ” Jim warned, sounding stern and already widely annoyed.

“Yes sir,” Kowalsky replied, looking amused as Elena was staring at him intently with her blue eyes and probably listening in on the conversation. That couldn't be good. “I'm out grocery shopping right now so if you could refrain from using adult words it'd be appreciated,” Kowalsky explained, more as a warning that he was not in a space where Jim could talk freely, which the man on the other end of the phone seemed to catch on to with a quiet Ooh. 

The man sighed. “ I need you to get your truck and mop over to where I am right now. Some of my men had… an accident, ” the man explained, emphasising that Kowalsky needed to get going, now . Sadly, that was a request he couldn’t fulfill immediately.
It also sounded like he’d be cleaning up after Jim's men instead of him himself, which was new to him. He wondered if they were messier than him.

“Alright then, I’ll head over as soon as I can,” Kowalsky answered.

“No ,” Jim told him, sternly. “ I need you over here… now. ”

“Listen Jim, I’m waiting as fast as I can,”

“Wa- waiting?! ” Jim echoed, raising his voice in disbelief.

“Yeah, I’m out grocery shopping with my daughter,” he explained, sort of enjoying the fact he was calmer than his boss at the moment. “We’re stuck in the que,”

He heard a disgruntled sigh from the other side. “You’re testing my patience Kowalsky ,”

“Believe me, I’m not trying to,”

“... Just get over here as fast you can ,” Jim grumbled.

The cleaner sighed. “Will do sir,” and with that, he hung up.

Elena was staring at her father curiously, having not moved at all as the line stood still.
“He says hi,” Kowalsky lied.

“How are you still employed?”

Her question earned her a chuckle of amusement from her dad. “No idea,”

-------

Elena had pleaded to her dad to allow her to stay home alone, insisting she could manage. He never doubted her, he would just like it if she was with someone if anything were to happen, as she is unable to contact him when he’s on a job. Ultimately, she got him to agree and she got ready to spend an evening alone with the pets and make mac and cheese without her father. He did however ask her to make extra so he could heat it up when he gets back home, probably much later in the evening.
Who knows where Jim’s men had their little accident , maybe they had rented a kids play area and they had died really unfortunate, and stupid, deaths.
He was going to find out.

-------

Kowalsky arrived at the address Jim had emailed him a few minutes after their call. It was a surprisingly nice area, and the building where he had to clean was three stories tall and looked inviting. There was next to none graffiti drawings scattered across the brick walls, and Kowalsky took note of the many plants the tenants had in their windows and the fire escapes. It was peaceful, which was unnerving, as Kowalsky had a thought of what had gotten down just an hour or so ago.

He sighed, mentally preparing himself. He slipped his dark gloves on, grabbed his gear and headed inside to where the stairs leading up through the apartment floors.

He reached the specified floor and apartment number, but a key was nowhere in sight nor had it been mentioned to lay anywhere. Kowalsky looked around for a moment but ended up giving up. He looked out the window and figured he could jump on the fire escape from the building and open up the slightly open window from the outside and get in that way.

“Yeah, that'll surely work,” he muttered to himself and opened the window from his side.

It was almost as if those were the magic words he needed as the entrance door to the specified apartment opened as if it was never locked, and Jim stood on the other side, looking fancy casual as always and with a tired but amused smile on his face, where he then added a quirked brow to his expression as he watched Kowalsky almost step through the window.

“What are you doing?”

“... Trying to get in, I didn't know you were in there,” he answered.

“Hm, I thought I’d given enough hints to clue you in on it,”

“Clearly not,” Kowalsky sighed and closed the window before he picked up his gear and moved it inside.

The apartment was nice, seemed decently big, even bigger and spacious than his own house. Wonder what someone would have to do to live here.

Right at the entrance there was dark blood smeared across the floor alongside bloody footprints made presumably by a pair of sneakers. There was also a large cat house made up of cardboard and duct tape. Thankfully, Kowalsky couldn't see any cats nearby. He didn't want any more cats back at home, Bastard is demanding enough as a one boy unit.

The apartment also smelled decently nice. If he was blind he probably wouldn’t know he’d just entered a crime scene. It was a bitter indicator of the fact of how recent lives had been taken away.

It also seemed like Jim wasn’t alone in here, as Kowalsky spotted Frank in the kitchen sitting on one of the counter chairs, and another guy he couldn't recognize inside the large living room, looking around with a keen eye, or at least trying to, as Kowalsky managed to see him slide and lose his balance for a second as there was a pool of blood the man hadn’t spotted. The sight made Kowalsky chuckle on the inside.

“So is that going to be a common occurrence?” Kowalsky asked.

“What is?” 

“ You being here while you want me to clean, plus your men now?” 

“Ooh, no. We try to leave the scenes as soon as possible,” he answered.

“Can you do it sooner?” 

Jim thought for a moment, but dragged his humming on for a while. “No.”

“Great,” Kowalsky sighed. “So what is it you guys are here for? Evidence again?” 

Jim groaned and scratched his neck, seeming unsure himself of the matter. “We're not entirely sure,”
“Hm,” Kowalsky hummed, slightly intrigued, but he didn’t want to ask. He was just there to clean. “Could you please tell your men not to make a mess while I work?”
The apartment was still messy, probably not a mess made by his men, but Kowalsky didn’t want these men to linger and start throwing things around in frustration. Jim was already annoying that one time, he was not going to handle three.

Catching the cleaner by surprise, the mob boss pulled the man closer by his shoulder and leaned his head down. “Dontcha worry Kowalsky, I had warned them ahead of time,” he informed, not being able to hold back a smile with glee. 

Kowalsky found the mental image of Jim warely warning his men not to make a mess as if he’d shoot them for doing so, sort of amusing. His men did also seem like they were treading carefully in the apartment now that Kowalsky was here.

“Huh… Why thank you,” Kowalsky spoke, unsure why he was acting polite to Jim after many encounters of Kowalsky ripping into him. Maybe it was to try and make him forget his previous behavior where he was sure Jim was seconds away from snapping his neck.

Jim quirked a questioning eyebrow at the man. “You’re too polite right now, Kowalsky. Did you win the lottery or something?”

“Only in my dreams, Jim.”

“Then what’s a nightmare to you?”

Kowalsky was between saying “ Being here” or “ You” but settled on “Maggots.”
Jim scoffed. “You can clean up brain splatter and vomit, but maggots is where you draw the line?”

“Absolutely,” it wasn’t a lie, he absolutely despised maggots. He almost suffered a heart attack when Elena mistakenly said she had maggots in her hair instead of lice. 

Kowalsky stretched his arms and cracked his knuckles, prepping his body for the physical work he would be doing.
“So, how many?” he asked.

“... Five,” Jim answered after sighing, as if he didn’t want to give Kowalsky that information, which struck the cleaner as an odd thing. He’d cleaned up worse.

“They’re all dead right?”

“We made sure of it,”

He spotted the first body of today in the living room by the overturned couch. Blood still seemed to slip out of the dead man's body and enlarged the fresh pool on the floor. The corpse had a wider and bigger figure, seemingly made up of muscle and little fat. His cause of death was definitely due to being filled to the brim with bullets due to the entry and exit holes on his body and the empty bullet casings scattered on the floor.

He didn’t recognize the man, so he was unsure if he was one of Jim’s men, but Jim seemed to have many men working below him, so of course Kowalsky wouldn’t know every single one of them. Still, the man seemed out of place and he couldn’t explain why.

He prepared a body bag for the first man before he started making his way towards him and avoided creating an even bigger mess by stepping over the bloody shoe trail.

He felt around the body to find a good spot to grab him by, when he heard a chuckle from the other side of the room, coming from Jim’s currently unnamed worker he brought with him.
“Need help with that guy, old man?” he asked, pulling out a mocking tone when he referred to him as Old man .

He ignored him, but he heard a chuckle behind him from where Jim was watching. With minimal difficulty, he got the man lifted up from the ground and carried him over to where he had made the bag ready. He was heavy, sure, but nothing Kowalsky couldn’t handle. He’d swing him over his shoulder like every other body, but considering how fresh his wounds were at the moment, he’d love to avoid getting even more blood on his shirt than needed. 

-------

He retrieved the dead man in the kitchen as well. It seemed like the people living here were preparing for a get together or a small party because Kowalsky found a store bought pizza in the oven and a shopping list posted on the fridge.
Like the other guy, Kowalsky got an odd feeling. The man was out of place just like the guy in the living room. It got him wondering what these people would have done to piss Jim off. He would assume it was like mateo’s pizzeria, but these people didn’t seem like gang members that were celebrating a win over him or anything, rather he got a feeling as if they were about to have a movie night, the giant projector screen in the living room even added to his theory.

There was a door on the opposite side of the kitchen but it was locked from his side.

“Sooo, that door?” He walked back out to the entrance with a full trash bag and tilted his head in the doors direction.

“You can access that room by the bedroom, don’t worry. We have full access to the apartment, nothing is locked or hidden.” Jim answered.

“Perfect,” he muttered. “Found a gambling room yet?”

Jim gave a soft chuckle in surprise and amusement. “I’ll keep you posted.” he promised.

Later while Kowalsky was gathering up trash from the living room, one of Jim’s men called him into the bedroom next door, saying he’d “found his phone”. Whereafter Kowalsky heard Jim sigh disappointed.

“That’s a recorder Tim,”

“It could still be useful?”

“ Sure. ”

Kowalsky snorted quietly. Jim sounded like a dad with the way he was talking and sighing. He wondered if the man even had any kids, he probably did. Making sure someone could take over for him once he dies, maybe a son or two. He couldn’t imagine him with a daughter.

They started the recorder, too silent for Kowalsky to listen in on, but he did hear Jim’s exclamation of disbelief. “It's about goddamn sudoku?!”

“Maybe it’s code?”

“... No!? ” Jim yelled. “Just… no.”

Jim’s annoyance was a delight for Kowalsky, it almost felt like cooking at home while a really bad movie was playing on the television. 

He’d gotten all the trash out of the living room and everything was going oddly smooth for him. It seems as if every job he went to something would go sideways, thinking back to the pizzeria with Jim, the family’s home with a long walk to the house, and the “haunted” home where he sadly met Bastard, the worst roommate he’s ever had.

He was finally satisfied enough to start cleaning out the trash and potential bodies in the room next door where Jim and his men were inspecting a recorder. He opened the cracked doors to yet another bloodied up room, thankfully it was less trashed than the previous once, but he was going to use a lot of his newly bought detergents as the blood trailed across the floor, over the bed, splashed on the wall and- oh god not the carpet!
Kowalsky felt like a knife had been stabbed into his heart at the sight. He wished he could just throw the carpet out and call it a day.

The desk and couch had been moved, almost as if they’d been shoved, trying to black someone from coming closer. On the other side of the bed Kowalsky spotted the third out of the five bodies. This time it was a woman, laying on the carpet, having bled out from where she laid. Her pool of blood looked fresh, almost like someone had spilled a whole can of paint.

“Damn, nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.” Kowalsky muttered before he lifted her up in his arms and carried her out. Kowalsky spotted a few specks of blood dribbling down her arm and left a blood trail as he carried her out, the janitor did his best to avoid getting some of it on his clothes, however he did get one drop on the front of his shoe.

Returning to the room he saw Jim and his two men had moved positions. Now, Frank and the supposed Tim were in another seemingly smaller room with a sliding door to access it, looking around in there. Jim had moved, now standing in front of a small coffee table and their television. It was an odd placement for the man, but Kowalsky had many questions yet he never asked any, though he couldn’t help giving a remark as he looked at the wall behind the desk, seeing the sudoku puzzles being displayed.

“Those are some awful nines,”

He heard Jim give an indulgent chuckle. “Yeah, I think a blind dog could make better ones,”

“And they’re the ones that don’t have thumbs,” Kowalsky agreed. Out of curiosity, he glanced at the puzzles, noticing how scrunched up some of the paper was in places and saw some faint written numbers, clearly not someone who was used to sudoku.

Kowalsky scoffed. “Amateurs.” 

“How come you’re in such a… peculiar mood today, Kowalsky?” Jim asked, pausing quickly to find a fitting word.

Kowalsky just returned after filling up two of his trash bags with scraps and broken computers. The question caught him off guard. He scratched the back of his neck with his least bloody gloved hand as he thought, quite unsure himself. Perhaps just seeing his daughter happy and laughing today was what he needed. He wouldn’t let Jim know that however, so he shrugged nonchalantly.

“Don’t really know, maybe I just woke up on the right side of the bed today,”

“Uh huh? Could you do that more often?” Jim requested, amused by this sudden change in Kowalsky’s behavior but not buying his blatant lie.

“Depends,” Kowalsky answered and looked up at Jim. “About that raise-”

Jim let out a surprised laugh, a little disappointed in himself that he didn’t anticipate that. His men even peeked through the gap by the door to see why their boss let out a genuine laugh from the looks of it. It was a peculiar sound to them and Kowalsky. He would manage to get a laugh of chuckle out of the man sometimes, but it was always a surprise to him whenever he’d manage to do so. It was like a little reminder that even though he murdered people and didn’t seem to have any remorse for it, he could genuinely enjoy a good joke. Kowalsky just hoped he was getting on his good side by doing so and making up for his previous severely sleep deprived behavior.

Jim padded the janitor’s shoulders. “Sorry to disappoint you Kowalsky, but we’ll have to talk about that some other day. Right now I have my hands full.” He explained and gestured to the bloodied apartment.

Kowalsky scoffed. “ You have your hands full?”

“With how demanding you are every time, believe me, I do.”
Kowalsky glared at Jim as if to warn him off, but the man just smirked and carried on,  satisfied he’d irritated his employee just a smidge. It wasn’t hard for him, Kowalsky would probably be offended if he coughed his direction.

Eventually, he was done getting trash from the bedroom but he still had two rooms left in the apartment to inspect for bodies and trash before he could start properly cleaning. There were still two bodies remaining, and he had a slight hunch there’d be one in each of the uninspected rooms. It seems that all these people had spread out once Jim’s people entered and had died alone. While he could somewhat joke around him, he was very aware Jim was a scary individual to many people. These people probably died completely terrified. 

He put his hand on the door’s handle, ready to swing it open and prepare for another bloody sight. Jim quickly whipped his head over to look at him as he reached the door, looking at him expectantly. The janitor raised an eyebrow at him.

“... Did you want to open the door?” He asked, a bit confused to his boss’ reaction.

Jim shook his head, looking at him with the same expression. “Not at all,”

Jim’s two men even peaked out from their room, the same expression as their boss. It's like they were wary of him for whatever reason. He suddenly dreaded opening this door. What could be on the other side that the three men who did this seem to be wary of. 

Kowalsky put their actions aside and opened the door and looked in. At first, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. It was a white bathroom, with blood smeared on the tiled floor and empty bullets scattered about, but Kowalsky knew there was something he was missing. And as he turned his head to his left, he found it.

There was a built-in shower in the wall, and a dead body was leaned up in the corner. Fresh blood covered the whole flood of the shower and he could hear drops fall down into the drain. The body’s once blue denim jeans had been stained with so much blood he could barely make out its original color. There were two bullet wounds in the thigh of this person, both seemingly exit, so the man had been shot from behind, probably purposefully as not many people would shoot to kill and then aim downwards.

It was the same with the body’s abdomen. A previously green button up shirt now completely stained red, and Kowalsky could see three entry wounds. 

But when he looked up to get a view at the person’s face, he froze. His heart skipped a beat and shot up in his throat, silencing him before it started to beat again, but slower.
His shoulders dropped and his legs felt like going out beneath him. He clumsily went down on his knee towards the body and reached a hand up, brushing a smear of blood off its forehead and moving some of its hair away from its face.
“Tyler?” he managed to whisper, his voice cracked.

It was him. It was the man who’d gotten Kowalsky into this whole mess. It was the guy in love who wanted to get clean for his girlfriend. It was the boy who lost his dad at a young age. It was the son of Kowalsky’s best friend, lying before him, deceased, shot twice in the thigh, thrice in the chest, and twice as well in the head. Two entry wounds, one bigger than the other, indicating a different gun was used. On his face was a picture of pure terror and confusion, his pupils small and looking up. With the blood splatter on the wall, it was clear Tyler’s life had been cut short right in that shower, him on the floor in the corner, looking up at his murderer.

Poor kid.

For a quick moment, the janitor was unable to move. He just sat and stared, not believing the sight that was in front of him.

Jim slowly walked up to Kowalsky from behind, noticing his despair and chose his next words very carefully. He’d seen the man angry and irritated, but never grieving, and was waiting to see how the man would react.

“I really did not want this to happen-” Before he could get another word out, Kowalsky had stood up, balled his fist, and swung it with great force into Jim’s jaw. 

Everything went quiet except for Jim’s jaw cracking and surprised gasp from Tim. 

Jim took two steps back and tended to his jaw, surprised by Kowalsky’s actions, but not completely angry. At that moment he was just happy Kowalsky was unarmed most of the time. “Kowalsky-” his attempt to talk the janitor down failed as he felt another punch to the other side. He groaned in pain and annoyance. “Motherfucker!” Jim growled.

Kowalsky was ready to send another fist right into Jim’s face, but the boss had had enough. He intercepted the incoming punch, grabbed the side of the janitor's head, and force slammed him into the tough door frame. A loud bang resounded as Kowalsky's head made impact, hurting him and having him kneel down, putting a hand on his head for pressure. The toughness of the frame and force of Jim’s shove certainly made a good combo as his head hurted beyond belief. If the frame had an edge he was sure there would have been blood gushing from his side. 

Jim rubbed his injured jaw and brushed his cheek bone, as Kowalsky had gotten to that area on impact, probably even leaving a bruise. He looked to his men, seeing their shocked expressions and confusion on what to do. Normally he’d have them draw guns or apprehend their target, but he didn't. Instead he gave them a look that said “ Stay out of it for now ”.

“I’m going to need you to explain yourself Kowalsky, otherwise we’re gonna have to add a sixth body to this place,” Jim warned sternly, all his joky manner and relaxed attitude was gone. His resting smirk was gone and he was not in an approachable mood anymore. His body was ready for another incoming punch or jab, and he towered over Kowalsky quite a bit.

Kowalsky looked up, still putting light pressure on the side of his head, and glared, eyes watery but still full of detest. “You first,” he spat. “I thought I told you, Tyler was not a suspect. He’d never even think about doing anything behind your back!”
“I know that!” Jim shouted, trying to have Kowalsky shut up. It didn’t work. The janitor got up from the floor and glared at Jim, his own eyes narrow and now intense.
“Then why the fuck did you kill him?!”
“I didn’t!”
“Your men then!”
“I- urgh!” Jim groaned and brought a hand up to rub his temple in frustration. He took a deep breath through his nose before grabbing Kowalsky by the collar of his shirt, shoving him backwards into the bathroom and walking with him. Kowalsky grabbed his forearm in surprise but he didn’t get free of his grip and stumbled back into the bathroom.

Jim signaled for his men to continue before he closed the door shut and let go of Kowalsky who had his bloodied glove on his arm, leaving a thin smear of blood across his tattoo.
“Let go!” he demanded.
“I will, but you need to calm down… and do not try to punch me again, what you experienced before was me holding back,” Jim explained and slowly loosened his grip until Kowalsky managed to pull out of it completely, still glaring at Jim and desperately avoided looking down to where Tyler still laid. He felt like he was one bad situation away from crying, he could do that later. Right now, not in front of Jim. 

“And what was it that Tyler experienced? Punishment? A precaution ?” Kowalsky demanded, his last word sounding taunting.
Jim sighed. “No.”
“Then what!?”
“Tyler experienced… an end too soon,” Jim answered, pausing to search for the right words.
Kowalsky scoffed. “Tell me about it,” 

Jim narrowed his eyes warningly. “Before you start balling up your fist again, I’ll repeat myself for the final time. I . Did . Not . Kill . Him .” he reiterated, but Kowalsky wasn’t buying it.

“Then who if not you? Frank? Or was it that other guy-”

“ I don’t fucking know, okay?! ” he admitted, all his pent up annoyance from Kowalsky and stress from his situation finally coming out in one sentence.
He got Kowalsky to shut up, but the man was still glaring. 

“It's what we’ve been trying to figure out, we…” his voice trailed off and he took a deep breath, calming himself down. It was then Kowalsky noticed just how tired the man looked. He had bags under his eyes and they seemed ready to close and never open ever again. “We found the place like this. Ransacked and bloodied,” he explained. “Tyler had called earlier, saying he had something he needed to tell me. We showed up and the place looked like this, and that’s when I called you.”

Kowalsky searched Jim’s eyes, searching for a flicker of a lie, but he saw none. He didn’t stop to think when he talked either, so he was either telling the truth or had been rehearsing, and at this point, Kowalsky believed the first option.

“Then why not tell me that?” he inquired.

“I wanted to when I called you but… That seemed like a bad idea, considering your circumstances at that moment.”

Kowalsky internally agreed with that point. “What stopped you after the fact then?”

“Mainly your unpredictability,” he explained shortly. “I didn’t know how you’d react to learning your friend was dead, especially when you came to work in such a good mood.” he rubbed his bearded jaw and chuckled to himself, though he wasn’t amused in the slightest. “Guess I know now however.”

“You haven’t exactly been helping your own case Jim. You said your men had an accident .” he airquoted.

“I was referring to Tyler,” Jim explained.

“Still you had many opportunities to inform me, I was going to find out at some point,”

“Kowalsky you’re paid to clean, not complain. I need you to get rid of the bodies, get rid of the evidence, and clean this fucking hole. Understand?” 

The janitor didn’t answer but his message went through. He walked past him and over to the shower where his friend was and got one final look at him and sighed.

“Sorry Paul,” he whispered, low enough for Jim not to hear what he said. He closed Tyler’s eyes with his fingers. If you couldn’t see the bullet wounds, he could be mistaken for a drunken man who passed out in the shower. Kowalsky just wished that had been the case for today. He slid his hands below Tyler and carefully lifted his limp body up, and carried him away.
He wanted to say something to him, knowing he couldn’t respond and there was a high chance he couldn't hear it either, but he had nothing. No comforting words, no goodbyes, he couldn’t utter a word to his friend. His body was working overtime to not break down. His arms and legs felt light and his hands shook.

The messy apartment became unfocused in his vision as he walked towards the body bags, not looking down at his friend’s face. He put him down, covered him up and tied the bag with a different knot than the rest, differentiating it.

This felt so unreal to him, having to be the one who put his friend to rest. Just for once he’d like to not be the only survivor. He had one last chance, and he refused to see as another casket was lowered into the ground.

At least for now he could somewhat pull himself together, but suddenly questions swarmed his mind. What was Tyler going to tell Jim? What evidence were these guys looking for?

He couldn’t even start to think about how he’d break the news to Tyler’s girlfriend. 

Just as he pushed that thought to the back of his mind, he felt an uncertain light tap on his shoulder. It wasn’t Jim, that much he could tell.

“What?” he asked without turning his head, hiding his distress with annoyance.

“Big Jim would like to know when you’d be moving the body from the music room,” Frank inquired.
Kowalsky sighed. He’d forgotten the fact that there were a total of five bodies. The fact that Jim didn’t ask him himself was odd, although Kowalsky chalked it up to the man not wanting to smack him around again if he tried to punch him again, which seemed reasonable. Kowalsky wasn’t exactly approachable at this very moment for the man.

He moved past the younger man and towards the last unchecked room, ignoring Jim’s presence as he was conversing with Tim. On his way, he spotted a picture frame on the table that Jim stood in front of. The picture was of his friend Paul and a younger Tyler, out fishing at one of their favorite lakes.

He had an inclination that Jim stood in front of that frame deliberately, prolonging Kowalsky’s unsuspection.

He felt another punch to the gut as he found the fifth and last body, that of Tyler’s girlfriend Trisha. She was sprawled out on the floor, her blood mixing in with spilled red wine from the smashed liquor cabinet behind her. Seemed that she had been shot and knocked back, presumably as she was preoccupied as a chunky headset laid a few centimeters away from her head. Her electric guitar also had a decent sized dent at the bottom of it, probably from it being dropped. Like the others, she had been shot to death as well, but one wound was noticeably different from the others when looking at the size of it. The first culprit had definitely tried to kill her, but someone else finished the job and shot her in the head. He had a theory as to who when Jim’s words echoed through his thoughts. “ We made sure of it .”

He picked her up and internally apologized to her, for whatever happened, she played no part in any of it yet still paid the price. It was a scary thought. A part of him was happy Helen wasn’t here right now, he doesn’t know how he could be doing this job while worrying about her safety.

He put her away and tied up the last garbage bag, ready to get out of here as fast as he could. He got his bucket and filled it up, adding whichever of his detergent were closest to him at the moment. 

Jim and his men had seemingly moved to the other end of the apartment, leaving Kowalsky in silence, not having any company except for his silent thoughts of nought. He couldn’t tell if that was a good or a bad thing.

He dipped his newly bought sponges into the bucket, squeezing them and then proceeded to clean up every speck and pool of blood in the bathroom. He also removed the incriminating evidence of a package of unknown substances from the air vent and the positive pregnancy test found on the counter… he had to blink away his thoughts as soon as he registered what it was. There really was no end to this day, and it seemed to be getting worse and worse. For a split moment he wondered if Tyler knew, but shook that thought away as he felt his neck hairs stand up at the mere thought of him. He had to distract himself because even thinking about Tyler was clearly too much for him right now. Not right now, not here.

He cleaned the rest of the apartment but it was like a blur to him, like he was set to autopilot. He didn’t utter a word and drowned out his own thoughts with white noise. It was the only thing he could do. He cleaned the floor, walls and objects, but was just missing a few small areas.

Jim had sent his men away previously, making the apartment so much quieter than before. Kowalsky was uncertain if Jim was even still there for a while, but while he was down on his knees trying to get blood stains out of the god forsaken carpet he heard heavy footsteps approaching him from behind and stopped a meter or more away from him. He didn’t turn his head as Jim spoke and kept his focus on the fabric.

“You’ve been remarkably silent this evening,” he commented, probably expecting a reason or jab from Kowalsky, maybe even wanting it, but he didn’t get any.
Kowalsky was surprised to hear him use the word evening . According to him, time hadn’t moved that fast, but one glance out one of the windows proved him wrong as the sun was almost gone, coloring the clouds red and making way for the moons to take over. 

His heart quickened, suddenly worried about the fact Elena has been home alone for multiple hours at this point. He hoped she was fine. He could leave his home for hours when she was asleep, knowing she couldn’t hurt herself a lot while asleep, but not during the day.

“Kowalsky,” Jim called out, trying to demand the man’s attention, but unfortunately for him his thoughts were now occupied by his daughter and his words didn’t reach him. He groaned in annoyance. “ Kowalsky .”

That seemed to catch his attention as he lifted his head slightly and stopped cleaning for a second. He didn’t turn his head, but he was listening.

“Listen, I understand today’s been… rough, okay?” He spoke, uncertain in his words, like he didn’t mean them and was perhaps just trying to lay it out softer for Kowalsky, in case he’d try something again like last time Jim attempted to explain. “I get it, so just, go home and get it out of your system. But I just need to be certain you understand this one last thing,”

Kowalsky heard footsteps again and soon, Jim was standing next to him, arms crossed and looking down at him. He glanced back up at the man with an expression of detest.

“You can’t give Tyler, or his girlfriend, a grand burial or anything, okay? You may put flowers on their impromptu graves or something, but they need to be far away from here. Do you understand?”

He waited for a response or a nod, but nothing came from the silent janitor. Jim sighed, just hoping the man understood and was going to do as he instructed. He didn’t know how Kowalsky disposed of the ordinary bodies, but he had a hunch Tyler wasn’t going down that route.

“Is there anything I can do so you wont start punching me or any of my employees again?” he asked, mostly joking, but if there was anything he could do he’d do it if made the janitor start talking. He is uncomfortable to be around when he is silent due to his thoughtless face. 

“When you find the guy, I want to know.”

Kowalsky's response made Jim’s raise his eyebrows in surprise and curiosity. “Wanna kill him?” he asked, sounding intrigued by the image of Kowalsky beating someone up.

“Nah,” Kowalsky muttered, his voice raspy and lifeless. “I’m content with shoving bleach down their throat,” Kowalsky couldn’t form an image of him doing that, much less anything else. He wasn’t a violent man, punching Jim was a spur of the moment thing that he didn’t really think about, which in hindsight was very dangerous. But it was the only thing he could currently think of to avenge Tyler.
As long as the guy got caught, Kowalsky would be satisfied. He’d get his comeuppance with Jim and his men.

Jim chuckled and let a smile finally rest upon his face. “I’ll see to that, Kowalsky.” he promised. He was half expecting Kowalsky to ask for a raise, but money didn’t seem to be on the janitor's mind at the moment. He was a bit too focused on the same blood spot from before and started trying to remove it once more.

“You know what to do.” Jim spoke before turning on his heels and walked away. Kowalsky didn’t see where, but he heard the door to the apartment slam shut and figured he’d left. As soon he realised so, he paused and placed both hands on the floor as he looked down, finally losing his cold expression and traded it out with distress. This day was just not happening. It couldn’t. Could he have done anything? All Tyler had to do was ask for guidance or help, he’d done it before and the kid will-... would probably do it again.

“I’m sorry, Tyler…”

-----

Getting rid of the bodies this time took a few hours itself this time. Not enough with the fact he had to get rid of the three unknown friend’s of Tylers, but he himself and his girlfriend needed extra care Kowalsky decided, and that needed to be far away. A long drive out to the middle of nowhere in the late hours of the evening, into a forest known for its massive ancient trees. He pulled a dirt shovel out from his truck and found a good resting spot. If he had time and the strength, he’d make two separate holes, but as he seemed to have neither elements, he cracked his knuckles and stretched his arms, getting ready for more labor. It’d be worth it, he told himself before casting a quick glance at the back of his truck.

------

He got back, finally. It was late. Too late for anyone to be up. He spaced out most of the ride home, holding himself together and just preparing himself to go inside, deadline it towards the bedroom, close the door, and just be alone until the morning. That was the plan. Dexter and Bastard were probably keeping Elena company again so he wouldn’t have to worry about Dexter greeting him with an oblivious bark or howl and cause her to wake up.

He pulled into his garage and closed the gate. He didn’t realise how worn out he was until he stepped out onto the floor and he felt his legs and knees almost give in. He steadied himself by the grip of the car door and regained his balance.

He opened the door to the living room, ready to just book it, but the sight of the housepets both awake and in the living room stopped him. Dexter’s ears perked up and he padded over to Kowalsky, wagging his tail with excitement. He greeted him with a head nudge to the man’s leg.

“Heh, hey buddy,” he greeted the german shepherd with head scratches, but Dexter barely acknowledged them as Kowalsky’s fingers trembled and he barely pressed past the dog’s fur. 

Dexter looked up and tilted his head, confused. He usually received head scratches and pets whenever one of his owners came home, but something was off. 

“I’m…” Kowalsky mumbled, clearly wanting to say something to Dexter, but words were unable to be strung together for a coherent sentence. He tried again, but was stopped as he felt tears well up in his eyes and colors of different ranges colored his vision. “I’m sorry.” he finally managed to speak as his legs gave out from under him and he sat down on the floor up against the door frame, his hands quickly coming in to wipe away the tears that were running from his eyes. 

Dexter and Bastard stood still, unaware of what was happening. But when Dexter heard Kowalsky cough away a sob, he acted. He padded closer and nudged Kowalsky’s hands away, seizing the opportunity to give the man a comforting lick on the side of his face. Kowalsky grimaced and gently tried to shoo Dexter’s face away, but the dog was persistent and placed another one. Kowalsky accepted defeat and scratched Dexter’s head, but still tried to avoid getting licked. The dog got comfortable in the man’s lap and after missing another kiss he nestled his head on Kowalsky’s shoulder.

“Thanks bud,” he thanked, his voice cracking in between words. While he’d been distracted by Dexter, Kowalsky hadn’t noticed Bastard got up from his spot and quietly padded closer until the cat was making himself comfortable on the other side of Kowalsky’s lap. He disguised a sob as an endearing chuckle at the sight of Bastard being affectionate with him for a moment. He placed a hand on Bastard’s back and softly caressed the black cat’s thick fur. 

He just sat there, with Dexter and Bastard for a little while, waiting for the tears to settle, but they seemed to just keep coming as his thoughts finally started voicing themself again.
Tyler was dead, and he couldn’t do anything about it. 

A voice interrupted him however. “Dad?”

He looked up and saw his daughter, awake and in her pajamas. He didn’t even hear her come out or open her door. She looked tired, probably awoke only a few minutes ago. Kowalsky assumed he probably looked worse. 

“Oh, hi sweetie,” he greeted, his voice cracking once again. He tried to swipe the tears away again, as if it’ll dry his face and eyes so Elena couldn’t see her dad cry, but it was too late, and the sob that forced its way out did him no favor. 

Elena stared at her father in worry. “Are you… crying?” she asked.

“No, no no no no, I was- It was…” he attempted to make an excuse, but he couldn’t lie. Nothing could convince her he was doing anything but that. He gave a pitiful chuckle at himself and shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he whispered before he looked down again, this time bringing his hand up and running it through his dark greying hair, shielding his face from his daughter. He didn’t know what to do, but it seemed Elena had an idea.
She walked over and sat down and leaned up against her father. Kowalsky tilted his head to glance at her. She was looking down with him, her eyes watering like his as she wrapped her arms around her legs, pressing them close to her chest for comfort. Without missing a beat, Kowalsky draped his arm around his daughter and pulled her close.
Dexter got the hint and went to completely lie down in Kowalsky’s lap alongside his feline friend.

Kowalsky rested his head against Elena’s as he gently rubbed his daughter’s arm. All he wanted to do now was comfort her, make her forget what condition she just saw her father in. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asked, voice low but still audible, but Kowalsky could hear how close she was to crying as well.
He smiled softly as he shook his head. “No, I’ll be okay.” he promised, though he wasn’t sure how well he could uphold it. He was proud of how considerate his daughter was. She was acting too mature for her age, and looked younger than she actually was. He wished she could have grown up with more normal circumstances and not have to mature so quickly. 

Kowalsky’s tears seemed to have stopped, but he could still tell his eyes were gonna be red from crying, and he could feel the wetness of his cheeks.
Elena glanced up at her dad, pondering and uncertain. “ Kocham Cię ,” she spoke.
Kowalsky looked down at her and smiled, her pronunciation was a little off but to him that was adorable. She didn’t speak polish as often as he does, but he gets pleasantly surprised whenever she does.

“I love you too.” He replied before leaning down and placing a quick kiss on her forehead. He had no idea how he got so lucky to have such a daughter, but he was eternally grateful. He’d take any job offered his way if it meant he could support her. 

They sat there on the floor, not saying much but were just trying to comfort one another. The only sounds emanating throughout the house was Kowalsky’s breathing as he tried to catch his breath again, and the fridge in the kitchen brumming.

“Alright now,” Kowalsky mumbled, his voice going back to a semi-normal tone. “We’re going to bed,” he got up and started to move his legs, which caused Bastard to awake from his little nap and jump off, and Dexter to quickly get up on his paws and back off. Before getting up he turned to Elena and picked her up with ease, almost startling himself by how light she was.

“Brushed your teeth, right?”

“Mh.” Elena responded, her reply a mere mumble as it seems she was half asleep already, her eyes half open and unfocused.
He stood up and walked down the hall, pets in tow, and opened the door to his bedroom with the help of his elbow. Both Dexter and Bastard took it as an invitation to jump up in the bed, Dexter at the foot of it, and Bastard on one of the pillows.
He put his daughter down and she got herself settled beneath the warm blanket and almost laid her head down on the pillow, but stopped as she remembered who was currently using that as their own bed.
Kowalsky walked around the bed to the other side, took his shoes off, and collapsed on the bed. Looking up at the ceiling and taking in a deep breath. God he was tired, both physically and emotionally. 

“How’d it go?” he asked.

“Huh?” Elena managed as she yawned.

Kowalsky chuckled. “The mac and cheese. How’d it go?”

“Oh, it went fine.”

“Anything left over for tomorrow?”

“Yup.”

Kowalsky got himself readjusted on the bed and got under the blanket as well, finally ready to sleep. He didn’t have the energy to take his clothes off this time.
Elena, without a pillow for use, rested her head on her father’s collarbone as he placed his arm under her for support.
Oh right, he almost forgot.

“Wig off little lady,” he said while getting some of the hair out of his face.
Elena looked up at him with a pout.

“You can’t sleep with it on, sweetie.”

“I know.” She mumbled before reaching her hands up, finding a decent spot and effortlessly slid the blonde wig with black sharpy dyed ends of her head.
Kowalsky knew she hated the hairless look, and he was happy that they found a wig that was both cheap enough to buy, and didn’t look awful. She was however not allowed to sleep with it on, as Kowalsky was afraid of it getting too tangled up or knotted beyond fixing. The wig was cheap for a reason.

She rested her down on her dad again, closing her eyes and draping an arm over him. 

Kowalsky smiled warmly at his daughter and gave her one final kiss on the forehead.

“Goodnight Elena.”

“Night dad.”

edit to add: 
Friend drew Elena with the shark slippers :)

Chapter Text

It was another day, which meant it was another day for Kowalsky to put more digits on his paycheck. He arrived at the school earlier than most of the teachers and got to work seeing what maintenance problems he’d been emailed about. Unsurprisingly there were a lot of flashing light bulbs, creaking doors and suspected broken radiators, he groaned when he saw a message about a broken window. He’d have to tape it up and order a replacement. He’d better get to work so he could take his lunch in peace and silence.

It had been a few days since he was by Tyler’s apartment and while he wasn’t completely past it, he hadn’t found himself tear up since. The questions of who’d done it and why was still circling his mind, never really leaving and if he was distracted by another thought, the questions would sit in a corner and wait till he was done.

He did his best to keep distracted as the thoughts bothered him a bit too much. He’d grow silent, which people around him could sense was him being in discomfort, Elena especially. He’d put on a warm reassuring smile, lying and saying he was just tired, but her reactions always told him she wasn’t buying it.

He found the mentioned broken window in the wood cutting class’s room. Some kids out on the playground had probably kicked a football and it hit the window. Good for them, they hit the milestone of breaking a window by accident. Kowalsky was anticipating the day Elena would do the same. 

Exiting the room after getting the window’s measurements, he quickly found one of the listed flickering lights right outside in the hall. 

He found the light switch for the hall, turned it off and propped his ladder up to reach the bulb. Thankfully this one didn’t seem to need a new bulb, as two quick tightening screws had it sit tighter in the ceiling.

He didn’t even hear the approaching footsteps as he went back to turn the light on, and jumped as a familiar silhouette stood next to him.

“Palmer!” he scolded breathily. The principal, his other boss, reacted just as scared as she made him, laughing as she successfully but accidently scared the janitor.

“Sorry Mr. Kowalsky,” Palmer apologized while Kowalsky clutched his chest.

“You’re gonna give me a heart attack one day,” he joked.

“Oh I’d hope not, there’s only one janitor,”

“Thank you,” he deadpanned. 

He folded his ladder together again and prepared to continue his work but he noticed how Palmer tapped her fingers against her arms, pondering.
Kowalsky had stopped sending her emails, having gotten the memo weeks ago. He far from resented her though, but it seemed that she was still feeling guilty about her refusal for a raise or bonus.
He breathed a sigh, and it seemed like he was gonna start this conversation. 

“So, did you want anything or?”
Kowalsky’s initiative seemed to relieve Palmer as she relaxed her muscles.

“Well, I just wanted to hear how it was going,” she answered, pausing as she pondered her next words. “... and wondered how she was doing.”

“She’s… doing well. Considering,” Palmer nodded and she listened and he talked, scratching the back of his neck, not really knowing what he could say next. “Uhm, we’re getting readmitted next week,”

Palmer lit up, happy for them. “Well that’s great!”
Wish Elena thought the same, Kowalsky thought. He dreaded bringing the subject of hospital or treatment up with her, as she would look away and barely respond to his questions afterwards except for some mumbled yeses and sures.
Palmer's expression changed from relieved to worried as a thought crossed her mind.
“And the uh… expenses?”

“Currently being paid off, the transfers take a bit of time,” he answered and shrugged, casually. While his one time clients would pay Kowalsky the agreed amount the moment he called and said he was done, Jim would wait a few days and send the amounts in one half at a time. He’d throw a bitch about it but there were other things he’d discuss with the man first, like don’t break into my home and ransack the whole place.

“That’s good to hear. Finally got insurance to cover some percentage of it?” Palmer asked, reacting concerned with Kowalsky’s burst of laughter as an answer.

“That’s funny,” he coughed out between laughs while Palmer looked on with concern. His laughs slowly faded and his breath returned. “No, I’m paying for everything,”

“How so?”

“I have a second job,”

“A second-” Palmer shouted but cut herself off with a hand on her mouth agasp. “ How? ” She sounded more confused than anything which Kowalsky understood. He himself is not sure. 30 hours a week and some overtime plus whatever Jim or someone else hired him to clean.

He shrugged nonchalantly, not really knowing what good reason he could give. “Coffee?”

“... I’m really sorry to hear that Kowalsky,”

“Thank you,” he clapped his hands together awkwardly, silently ending that conversation. “Well, I need to get going. Saw at least fifteen mentions of flickering light bulbs.” he mused.

Palmer chuckled gently, probably still surprised by the new information. “Seems about right. Oh that’s right, I forgot to tell you that one of the tire swings on the playgrounds broke yesterday. Mind fixing it before recess?”

“Sure, I probably won’t be too tired for that,”
Palmer groaned in pain of that pun.

-----

Kowalsky returned home, having gotten off work a while after four but only getting home close to five. His legs are sore but he’s been through worse. When he entered his home he was immediately met with a warm and soothing atmosphere and a great taste in the air, someone had been baking. He knew who as soon as he spotted Elena reading a book on the couch, Bastard on her lap, Dexter laying on the floor between the kitchen and living room, and a woman’s voice emitting from the kitchen.

“Hi dad!” Elena welcomed, beaming when her dad entered. Dexter greeted him with a wagging tail and Bastard with an acknowledging ear flicker.

“Hi honey,”

“Kowalsky!” Louise’s voice greeted him from the kitchen before she peeked her head around the corner. The older lady preferred to babysit Elena at her own place, but with the growing amount of animals and Elena needing temporary medication to function normally, Kowalsky asked if she could be at his place. “There you are, you street rat looking bastard,” she spoke with endearment. “You’re late,”

“Work.” he excused.

“What? Did a coffee machine break?”

“Har har, Louise,” Kowalsky mocked. “Have you guys been baking in here?”

Louise nodded and Elena raised her hand. “I read her the recipe!”

“And you did great honey,” Louise praised and patted Elena on the head for a good job. “So if you’re craving star shaped lemon cookies, you can find them in the fridge,”

Kowalsky looked at Elena and smirked. “ Star shaped?”
She giggled knowingly.

“Well, I’ll be heading home. Elena’s been a delight as always,” Louise informed.
Kowalsky nodded, he knew that already but it’s always good to hear it from others.

“Need a ride home?” he offered.

“Nah, I have to run errands as well. Also would you mind if I took that boy?” she pointed towards the black cat dozing off on Elena’s lap.

“No,” he answered honestly. “But she might.” he gestured with his head towards Elena who’d hugged Bastard close to her and gave Louise a warning glare.

The woman chuckled. “I’ll be keeping my head then,” she grabbed her back up from the floor, gave a farewell to the girl and pets before Kowalsky, patting his upper arm.
“Take care, don’t die.”

-----

The evening went by fast. Kowalsky had put a bigos stew over for dinner and rested on a couch, finally getting off his feet. Elena had been walking around their house in her new slippers and Kowalsky had to laugh quietly whenever he heard a squeak from beneath her feet.

Elena was not often a fan of the food from Kowalsky’s home country, so he’d try to make it so Elena could eat it while still trying to remind him of home. They ate later than intended but they ate some of Louise’s cookies so they didn’t completely starve while waiting for the main dish, which Kowalsky meant was much worth the wait.

They’d gotten to bed early, mainly because Kowalsky treasured his sleep before he’d have to pull an all nighter and some more. He covered himself in blankets and threw himself on his pillows, sinking into the soft and comforting material beneath him. No dog at the foot of his bed today, as the german shepherd had padded after Elena when she headed towards her room.

Kowalsky was heavy asleep, face buried in his pillows, but at some point in the night, he awoke groggily and looked around confused. Why was he awake?
He glanced over to his alarm clock, it was 2:13 AM.
He was about to return whatever dream he was having, before he heard what awoke him. His phone, vibrating.

He groaned and swung his arm to reach his phone on the stand, trying his best not to move from his spot. He didn’t need to play 20 questions about this, he knew who was calling him, and he was ever so slightly peeved. He squinted his eyes as the bright light from his screen blinded him, but he picked the call up and took the phone up to his ear.

“Jim.” he greeted, his morning voice shocking even himself.

“... Kowalsky ,” Jim sighingly greeted from the other side, sounding almost just as tired as the janitor and from what Kowalsky could tell, the man also seemed crabby.

“I’d ask why you called, but I think I got a pretty good idea why,”

Jim scoffed on the side of the call. “Nice to hear you’re catching on .”

“What is it this time?” Kowalsky asked.

“My daughter got herself… into a bit of trouble,” Jim explained, emphasizing the last word almost like he was glaring at someone while speaking. Though his words got Kowalsky’s gears to start turning and his eyes were wide open.

“You have a kid ?!” Kowalsky blurted out without realising. He heard confused mumbles on the other side, probably Jim confused at Kowalsky’s reaction.

“Uh, yes? Is that so surprising? ” Jim asked, clearly taking some form of offense from the question.

“Knowing you? Very.”

“..Alright, who pulled on your dick this evening? ”

“The guy who called me at two in the night! ” Kowalsky sneered, keeping his voice low enough for neither Elena nor the pets to react to him.

Jim groaned and Kowalsky could picture the man rubbing his temples. “Just get your shit ready, Kowalsky. I’ll send you the address, ”
And with that, the man on the other end hung up. Kowalsky groaned and rubbed his eyes to remove the remaining sleep. He already knew this would be a looong night.

-----

He exited the house as quietly as he could, geared up his car with equipment, and drove out into the night to the address Jim had written to him a minute or two after the call ended.
It was a cold night, silent and incredibly dark, especially on the roads away from the city. From what Kowalsky could tell, the location he was going to was out in the middle of a thick forest. A forty minute drive away from the city. 

He spotted the building, or buildings, in the distance as he drove further down a gravel road. To his surprise, but not really, he spotted two black silhouettes at the very end that got illuminated as he drove closer. One he recognized, the other one he had an idea for.

He drove into what he guessed was the place’s parking lot and stepped out of his car and sighed. He’d have to talk to Jim like an actual boss again at some point. It seemed weird to him after what happened last time at Tyler’s, but he had to. And now he had to converse with Jim and who was presumably the aforementioned daughter. She looked tall from what he could tell, and old enough to have a driver’s license.

He walked over to the pair who probably had noticed him come up but was busy in a conversation of their own. He got a good look at them as close as he got, which had him quirk a brow in surprise.
Jim looked, in the meanest way he could phrase it, the worst he’s ever seen him. His face undeniably riddled with sleep deprivation, his pale hair up in a poorly made bun falling apart with strands going out to each side and his beard unkempt. He looked like he got dressed as quickly as he could, so while not a fashion disaster, his pants and shirt were not a cleverly selected pair. He even missed a few buttons on his shirt and it wasn’t fully tucked into his pants.

“- I’m telling you sweetie, that is your punishment,” Jim spoke, his voice stern and firm while pointing a finger at his daughter who was looking up at him with crossed arms and a pout.

Their similar appearances almost made him chuckle. She was definitely Jim’s daughter.
They shared similar skin tones and nut brown eyes, even their hair texture seemed to match. Her hair was strawberry blonde compared to her father, it was long, past her shoulders and reaching her back. She was dressed more formally than her dad in a black turtleneck and pink peach skirt, finishing it all off with black rose patterned leggings. Oddly enough, she wore a thick and big green jacket, something that did not match the rest of the outfit, and seemed to clutch on to it for warmth. Something told Kowalsky that the jacket wasn’t hers.

He stopped his walk towards them as far away as he thought he could and waited for Jim to stop speaking to her. He was still scolding her with a raised voice, but not to the point of yelling. The man seemed almost hesitant to talk to her, as if he didn’t want to do this, which made Kowalsky grin a little.

“Do you have any idea of what’s happened tonight?” Jim asked.

“Uh, yeah. I’m not dumb,” the girl replied, answering like her father was an idiot. Jim noticed as well and scowled.

“And do you have any idea how much this is gonna cost me?”

The girl let out a laugh of pity. “Oh of course! My mistake. Oh woe is you- It’s always you!” she snapped back.

“Amber…” Jim muttered as he rubbed his temple, avoiding her gaze and locking in with Kowalsky instead, as if he’d just noticed him and was slightly relieved to see him. None uttered a word to each other.

“Oh don’t stop because of me, this is slightly entertaining,” Kowalsky said. Jim shot him a warning glare.

“Kowalsky… This is my daughter, Amber.” He gestured towards Amber, who looked at Kowalsky with a scowl of disgust, and he spotted a smear of freckles across her face.

“Hello-”

“ Shut up .” Amber demanded sharply.
Oh, Kowalsky could already tell this was going to be a longer night than he originally anticipated.

He turned his attention back to Jim. “I ask this too much but, why are you still here?”

“Because Kowalsky,” Jim paused to put a hand on Amber’s back. “You’ll be having a helper today.”
Kowalsky blinked at Jim, confused and waited for him to break into a smirk and say it was a joke, but he didn’t, and he felt dread build up in his body. His feelings were mirrored by Amber giving him the worst death stare he’s ever received.

“I won’t be needing that-” Kowalsky tried to reassure Jim but got interrupted by the man himself.

“I don’t care. She-” he gestured to his daughter. “Had eleven people die on this property in one day . This is not a reward for you, it’s a punishment for her.”
Then why does it feel like I’m getting punished too? Kowalsky thought, almost voicing his complaint, but for once, he held his tongue. He didn’t enjoy cleaning or fixing things with other people, in his eyes, they often messed things up or distracted him from his own work. Amber did not seem like someone who enjoyed cleaning up a crime scene, much less one with eleven bodies.

“Oh my god daaad,” Amber whined like a teenager. “I didn’t kill them,”

“Never said you did sweetie,” he said, his hands up to try and calm her down. “But eleven people died, on my land, under your watch, and you were where ?”

“Hm.” Amber pouted and turned her head away from her father.

“Asleep... You. Were. Asleep .”

“I got knocked out.” Amber defended herself.

“Yeah… by drugs. You knocked yourself out with drugs .” The older man was getting tired of debating with his daughter, but the younger girl stood her already shaky ground.

“Last I checked dad, this was my property.” she reminded him, leaving her dad staring at her, almost sad.

“I bought it and have owned it for years, I gave it to you but it’s still legally under my name.”

Amber laughed. “Since when did you care about the law? Still gave it to me. Can’t take a gift back once gifted.” she explained with a winning smirk.

Jim sighed the most disappointed dad sigh Kowalsky had heard from him yet and looked back at the Janitor.
“How long?”

“For… what?” Kowalsky asked, caught off guard by the question.

“How long is all of this going to take to clean up?” Jim expanded on his question, twirling his finger around in a circle as he asked.

Kowalsky eyed him suspiciously. The man never cared how long these things took, just as long as he got it done. If he was trying to hurry Kowalsky up he was going to have to think twice.
The janitor looked out at the surroundings from what he could see, weighted the amount of bodies and area, calculating in his head.

“From what I can tell… My best guess could be from between five to seven?” he answered.

“Five?!” Amber exclaimed, astonished.

“Okay then, Amber, you’re grounded for five weeks.”

“ Five?! ” Amber yelled again, this time more in disbelief.

“I’ll make it ten if you don’t fix that attitude young lady.” Jim promised, crossing his arms and putting his foot down, literally and metaphorically.

“Ugh,” Amber groaned and leaned her head back. “I hate you!” And with that, she turned and walked away, but not out of their sight as she stopped by a small fire pit with wooden benches circled around it, her back to both the men.
Jim shook his head and rubbed his eyes, wiping away the urge to just fall asleep.

“Teenagers?” Kowalsky guessed.

He earned himself a sad chuckle from Jim. “No, not at all. She’s twenty three,”

Kowalsky coughed in surprise and shock. “Really ? With that behavior?”
The man nodded.

“I meant to ask a favor of you, Kowalsky,” Jim announced.

The janitor raised a brow. “A favor ? Do I get one in return?”

Jim stared blankly before replying. “An ask then,” he corrected. “You know those awful, terrible and stupid puns you make while you clean?”

Kowalsky glared but let the insults of his puns go in his ear and out the other. “Yes?”

“... I want you to crank that up to eleven today. Okay?”

Now the janitor was just nothing but dumbfounded. No one asked him to ram up his original puns, if anything they’d groaned in pain and pleaded for him to shut up.
He was too stunned to speak, so Jim continued explaining and pointed at his daughter. “She really hates puns,”

“Oooh… Oh .” he finally got it. “You want me to annoy your daughter?”
“Yes, but nothing beyond that, you understand? Because if I find out you crossed any lines, whatsoever, remember; I know where you fucking live.” Jim threatened, Kowalsky wasn’t that worried however, mostly because he zoned out half way through. He had no intentions to insult Amber, she seemed like a person to only grow angrier if insulted, and Kowalsky wasn’t up for starting a war.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt her feelings,” Kowalsky promised.

Jim glared at Kowalsky warningly. “And don't put your hands on her either. I’m not stupid enough to leave her alone with you unarmed.”

Kowalsky couldn’t explain the face he made as Jim spoke. “God no!” he exclaimed in disgust.

“Good, because she can also bite.”

“Yeah I don’t doubt it.”

Jim seemed satisfied enough with Kowalsky’s reply and dug into his pocket and fished out his car keys. He looked out towards Amber as he called out. “Sweetie I’m leaving!”
Amber didn’t reply and turned her head further away from her father, stubborn not to look back at him. Jim sighed in defeat.

Kowalsky didn’t know how to explain it, but seeing Jim act like an actual father to his kid, was oddly delightful in the wrong way. There was finally a person to fight against her dad and Amber seemed to defeat him with ease. For once he couldn’t throw violent threats or promises at someone and he had to find other ways to fight back, which Kowalsky guessed the man wasn’t used to.

“Well, I’m going home to get my nightly two hours of sleep. Have fun kids,” he lazily waved farewell as he climbed into his car, got it started and drove away. Kowalsky watched, and after a minute Amber turned her head to see her dad’s car disappear between the trees.

Kowalsky put his hands on his hips and tapped them awkwardly. What was he supposed to do? He’s never babysat a kid in their twenties before. Couldn’t lure her with a promise of sweets.

“Well, shall we get this party started?” he called out. Amber only turned her head to glare, but she sunk her shoulders in defeat.

-----

Kowalsky got the girl a pair of plastic black gloves from his car to get started. She complained about the texture but Kowalsky didn’t reply which sadly had her continue.

“Alright Amber, can you take us to the first body?” He asked.

“Why?” she defensively asked.

Kowalsky quirked a brow. “So… we can bag them up? It’s going to be easier to clean once they’re gone.”

“Oh…” Amber mumbled, almost confused as to why Kowalsky wouldn’t have a second motive, and Kowalsky is confused as to what that would even be. “Yeah, sure. I’ll show ya. It won't be hard, they’re kinda everywhere,” she gave a knowing chuckle alongside a smirk and twirled a hand gesture. The janitor didn't catch on and raised a questioning brow.

Amber sighed and instead of explaining, she pointed to the once lit fire pit and Kowalsky saw soot and ash spread around it, the stones beneath it having been colored black as if a blast had erupted from there.

Kowalsky rubbed his temple. “That's… great. Just great,” he mumbled. “Did someone pour gasoline on the campfire?”

She shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s a possibility as the very least,”

She led the janitor over to a row of cabins, at the back of the small campsite. One of the cabins, the one furthest away, was walled off with metal fences, seemingly under construction. 

They stood in front of the first cabin, and were met with quite the sight. One of Amber's party mates could be found in the white leather pillow chair on the patio. Or well, most of her. She was horribly burnt, the side of her face charred and her eyeball ready to fall out of her socket. The most noticeable thing about her was her missing forearms and right leg, with her left one hanging on for its remaining life. It was not a pretty sight and Amber even gagged in disgust at the sight.

“God she's even started smelling now,” she complained.

“Your friend is completely burnt to a crisp,” he commented.

Amber scoffed. “Friend is a strong word. Tolerable nuisance is more like it,” she explained, a sassy smirk spreading across her face.
Yup, that’s Jim’s daughter, Kowalsky thought. Right down to the appearance and personality. It was eerie.

“Alright,” Kowalsky mumbled and fished the plastic bags out of his not-yet filled bucket. “Let’s bag her up.”

Amber whipped her head around to stare at Kowalsky as if he’d just slapped her. “Uh, yeah, no. I’m not touching that,”

He glanced at her, not really knowing how to break it to her other than straight out. “Well, your dad said you’d be helping out so-”

“Yeah that’s not gonna happen. I’m not touching shit ,” she declared.

“M’kay,” Kowalsky spoke and shrugged. “Your dad’s gonna be coming back and will probably wonder why you didn’t help out. I don’t intend to cover for you,”

She let out an amused laugh. “Why? Respect him too much?” she asked, taunting him. It didn’t work, as he snorted, completely caught off guard.

“Fuck no. I just don’t care,” he explained. “Now come on, let’s try and put her on the ground-”

“I’m not touching it,”
He groaned silently. Teenagers, he thought. He hoped Elena wouldn’t turn out like that. Spoiled to the core.

“You’re wearing gloves Amber, you’re not really touching it,” he explained.

“I can still feel it!”

“ O Boże ,” he grumbled. “Fine. You can do the bag part then, sound better?”

“Hmph, fine .” She relented and angrily snatched the plastic bags out of Kowalsky’s grasp.
He walked over the charred corpse remaining and managed to put his hands beneath her and lift her up, trying to ignore the nauseating noise made by her left leg as it finally snapped free from her blasted knee and thumped onto the wooden floor.

“Urgh god,” Amber groaned, half gagging. She’d opened the plastic bag on the floor  and turned the open part of it towards the cleaner.

“Alright, let’s bag this up.” Kowalsky spoke and awkwardly maneuvered the woman inside, having gotten half of her inside before he had to shove the rest of it in, carefully throwing the leg in after her. Amber looked on with a face of disgust as the body was being placed inside, feeling vomit rise in her throat, but she kept it down.

“Did you really just make a fucking pun?”

Kowalsky chuckled. “I’m just getting warmed up,”

“... I hate you, and I want to kill you,” Amber confessed.

“You could do that, but… who’d be cleaning this place up?” he asked and mimicked the finger twirl that Amber did a couple of moments ago. Amber did not appreciate it and glared daggers at him.

“ You , but you’d be the mop.” she sneered. “Your hair is already perfect for the job,”
He nodded along as Amber kept insulting him, unphased. They would probably hurt him if he wasn’t already telling himself all these things on a daily basis, although the mop metaphor was new.

“That’s great Amber, could you be decent and grab that arm over there?” he asked and pointed over to a patch of grass, splattered with blood.

“Arm?” She asked for clarification before looking at where Kowalsky was pointing and spotted a burnt and bloody hand, probably belonging to the friend currently in the bag. “... You want me to touch that? What have I just been telling you?” she asked, almost as if she was scolding him. Kowalsky wasn’t phased however, the girl didn’t intimidate him.

“I don’t care, pick it up and put it in,” he gestured towards the open bag before grabbing his bucket and tools and walked over to an outside hose and faucet, filling his bucket up with water and mixing in the detergents.

“Usually I remove all the bodies before I start cleaning, but after your… tolerable nuisance decided to bleed out on a wooden patio, I wanna get rid of these stains before they dry up.” he explained and dragged the bucket back, dipping a sponge in and handing it to Amber. “If you could just get the chair she was on that’d be great ,”

She swiped the sponge from his light grasp and began on the chair. It wasn’t long before her sponge became blood covered and she had to dip it in the bucket, again and again. She kept looking down at herself, making sure she didn’t get any blood on her clothes. Kowalsky guessed they were expensive, not because of the material or how it looked, but he didn’t take Amber as a local thrift store or Walmart visitor.
While she worked on the chair, Kowalsky worked on the floor, wall and fence, getting them to a state of blood free right as Amber was done with the chair.
He thought Amber might’ve needed help to push the giant chair back in its place, but the girl shoved it with ease, even in heels. He’d applaud her if she had a nicer personality.

As she got the chair in place, a bright light appeared from under it. A phone was laying on the boards, still having power on and was still open for browsing. It had its screen cracked and had been burnt around its edges, but nothing major like the girl.
Amber made a sound of curiosity before picking the phone up and seeing what was on it.

“Is it importa-” Kowalsky got silenced as Amber held a finger up to silence him, deeply focused on whatever text conversation he couldn’t read from over her shoulder.

Amber laughed. “Oh my god , this is gold.” she declared, probably the happiest Kowalsky has ever heard her be and probably also the last. “Anne is so paranoid, girl calm down.” she snickered to herself.
Kowalsky stood and waited for her to be done, almost tempted to start tapping his foot in impatience. She turned around, almost as if she’d forgotten he was there and showed him the screen.
It was a group chat named “Baddies” and it seems that the girl named Anne was worried about a certain guy’s behavior. The owner of this phone was about to send a message before she got caught in whatever explosion happened at the site. The unsent message read; def gonna propose to you!!

Kowalsky looked back up to Amber, befuddled.

She groaned. “The guy is her boyfriend,”

“That much I gathered,”

“Okay now I just need to see if I can find the other girls' phones. I need to read this last minute tea,” Amber explained. Kowalsky nodded along, not knowing what Amber was talking about with tea .

“Uh huh, well we’re done out here, do you know where this Anne is?” he asked.

“Nope,”

“Remember where you last saw her?”

“Dude, I’ve been out for hours , I don’t know shit,” she reminded him.

“How did you sleep through all of this?”

“Drugs,”

“Who gave you those drugs?” he asked, although he didn’t really need an answer.

“A friend.” That seemed to be the end of that conversation as she turned on her heels and over to the fire pit. She moved an upturned bench that had a faint light emitting from beneath it and grabbed another hidden phone, smiling in victory and proceeded to read, eyes glued to the screen. At one point, her mouth was open like an O in surprise.

“Oh my god, Anne thinks he was seeing someone else, this is too good,” she laughed at her deceased friend’s assumed panic as Kowalsky looked around the grass near the fire pit. He wasn’t listening to Amber as she kept rambling about the phone’s chat as he honestly didn’t care. It could at least distract her from him for a brief minute before she’d go back to insult him.
Kowalsky sighed as he spotted multiple spots across the grass that they’d have to go by and trash collect. Amber eyed him curiously.

“This seems to be the last place your friend was standing before she died,” He commented.

“I guess,” she muttered an agreement with him.

“But she’s not here,” he spoke before gesturing to the yard. “But she’s pretty much everywhere else,”

This didn’t seem like news to Amber and she smirked and laughed to herself.

“Told ya’. Never said all eleven bodies were intact,”
Kowalsky didn’t comment and instead handed the mafia princess a trash bag, giving her a pretty good idea on what she would have to do. She groaned and rolled her eyes but didn’t retaliate outright, and proceeded to go around the yard alongside Kowalsky and picked up scattered and burnt body parts of her friend, and eventually, the boyfriend, as they realised they had collected two left arms, one more feminine than the other.
This would probably take some time.

-----

They had finally searched the whole yard and corner, picking up every blown off body part and piece of flesh they stumbled upon. However the stench of burnt flesh and meat was too much for Amber, who complained and gagged everytime she had to be near it, so Kowalsky went to his truck and got his mask on, offering it to her to ease the smell for her. She accepted it without a thank you and it seemed to work better for her as he didn’t hear from her quite as much, except for when she complained about the touch.

“Alright, next body Amber, and please let it be intact this time,”
Amber pointed to the middle cabin, and as Kowalsky scanned the front of the wooden structure, he noticed the building’s massive front window was shattered, completely destroyed unlike the other two’s.

He pointed at it. “How did that happen?”
Amber grinned and repointed her finger to the fire pit. Kowalsky sighed, he should’ve seen that coming.

“And I thought you guys were blowing all of this out of proportion,”

“... I’m gonna need you to shut the fuck up.”

And that he did, as he walked over to the door of the middle cabin to open the front door, but it didn't budge. It was locked.

“Did I forget to mention it's locked?” Amber called out in glee.

“ Yes .” Kowalsky called back, teeth gritted. He looked up the front of the cabin, seeing if there was another way to get in. The blasted window could be an option if he was desperate, seeing as there was still a bit of glass remaining to the frame and probably a load on the floor on the inside. He walked around the cabin and thankfully spotted an open window on the top floor. He'd have to jump on the top of the wooden structure that sat between the two cabins in order to jump to the window, but that’d require for the other cabin to be unlocked, which he hoped it was.

He turned to Amber and pointed to the first cabin. “You want to tell me that it's locked as well?”

“Well, I want to, but nah, It's open,” she answered. “Its where I came from,”

“Were you born in there?”

“Wha- no. I slept on the bed inside the cabin, dumbass.” she exclaimed.

Kowalsky quietly chuckled to himself as he walked over to the door and it managed to open. The inside of this cabin seemed to be almost untouched. He climbed up the ladder to the top part, finding a bed and nightstands looking over the cabin's living area. Maybe he’d rent a cabin like this in the future when his bank account allowed it.

Skillfully, he jumped from the balcony of the bedroom to the structure and then through the open window to the middle cabin, and oh dear. It was a mess. Glass was everywhere, both at the bottom and on the bed level. Looking down he saw another body to add to the truck, this one blown apart like the other, but as they'd been thrown through the window, sharp shards of glass, both big and small, were stabbed into the bloody flesh and pierced it in many places. 

He jumped down to the least glassed part of the floor he could reach, and walked over to the door, unlocking it and opening it up for access.

On the other side stood Amber, her phone in hand, currently typing away.

“What are you doing?” He asked.

“Relax grandpa, just updating my dad,” she replied.

“Updating?”

“He just wants to know if I’m alive,”

“Well, that’s nice of him,” he accidently found himself complimenting the man, thankfully he wasn't here to witness it.

“Urgh, yeah but he does it all the fucking time,” Amber complained. “I can take care of myself, but he still sees me as if I’m ten or something,”

Kowalsky bit back a comment for Amber, remembering that Jim ordered him to only annoy Amber and not insult her.

He shrugged. “Dads I guess,”

He couldn't deny he was a little envious that Amber could text her dad updates as she was on a crime scene. Kowalsky wished he and Elena could at least send messages between each other when he was at work, he’d have to stress a lot less if that was the case.

Amber sighed. “Wish mom was here, she’d tell him to calm down.”

“Yeah? Where is she right now?” Kowalsky asked. He pulled another trash bag out to shove the body into, before shooing nearby glass shards away from the body to prevent the bag from ripping as much, and then he began carefully plucking most of the glass out from the body.

“She’s dead,”

Kowalsky paused, frozen and unable to move after he registered what Amber just said so casually like she was answering a question in class. 

She raised a brow at the shocked janitor.

After a few seconds, he finally turned his head to look at her. “She’s dead ?” he asked, almost confused.

Amber just shrugged casually. “Yeah, been for a few years. You sound confused,” 

“I just-... death is not always my go-to conclusion when people talk about their wives in past tense,” he explained as best as he could. 

She snorted. “What? You thought they were divorced?” she asked, amused.

“Well, yes. The other thing is just really sad,”

“I thought you’d like sad. Fits your demeanor,” she commented. 

Kowalsky sighed, defeated. “Why does everyone keep saying that?”

“Because it's true, deal with it.”

Kowalsky instructed Amber to fetch a broom from the truck to start sweeping the hazard that was the floor of the middle cabin, as he was still removing glass from the corpse. Thankfully for him the mangled body made it easy for him to pull the material out and soon enough he was satisfied, but he did use two bags to cover them up with as a precaution.

Before he left the cabin with the corpse in his arms, he turned to Amber who was sweeping the floor quite effectively.

“I’m sorry to hear about your mom,” he spoke.

Amber paused but didn't turn to look at him. “Thanks.” she replied with a hint of stubbornness before she continued to sweep the floor. 

Amongst the shattered glass on the floor and overturned furniture from the body crashing down, Amber found the girl’s unlocked phone beneath the wooden table. It was another unsent text in the groupchat, the girl having typed “He wants to dump you” but didn't get to send it. The dead girl gossip seemed to get Amber in a better mood so Kowalsky didn’t comment as she kept sweeping the floor but half-assed it as she was more focused on the screen. Eventually Kowalsky had her throw the phone in the trash as well when she straight up stopped sweeping altogether.

-----

Kowalsky thought that since the 3rd and last cabin was under construction it didn’t need cleaning or anything of the sort, but Amber proved him wrong by saying the workers had a little accident themselves.
“What’s going on? Is it Friday the thirteenth or did someone walk under a row of ladders?” Kowalsky asked. Amber eyed him warningly and didn’t answer.

He knocked down a weak part of the fence surrounding the cabin and they got inside, finding one man on the floor with a fallen ladder next to him.
Both he and Amber tilted their heads while looking at the man. Kowalsky was trying to find a reason as to how he died, while Amber was seeing if the guy was actually dead. When she couldn’t find an immediate answer, she reached into a hidden pocket on the inside of a jacket. Kowalsky couldn’t tell what she was doing until he saw the shape of a gun protrude from the jacket.

He quickly took a step away as Amber pointed the gun downwards at the guy’s head, clicking the safety off and proceeded to shoot twice. The first one missing and the other one hitting, now splashing blood and brains all over the floor.
Kowalsky groaned internally at more work being made in front of his eyes. Amber nudged the guy’s head with the front of her heels, as if to double check the guy who had his head blown out just now is actually gone now.

“Pretty sure he’s dead,” he commented.

“Just gotta make sure. My dad is always on my ass about making sure,” Amber explained. “Like last time this happened my dad had to drag a guy who was trying to crawl away all the way back in,”

He eyed her with worry. “Last time?”

“Hm? Oh yeah, this,” she twirled her hand in her now signature hand gesture. “Happens a lot. It’s not my first friend group. It’s certainly the biggest mess,” she had a little laugh to herself as she finished.

“ You , are a walking bad omen,”

Amber smiled smugly as if she just received a compliment, when it really wasn’t meant as one. “I do my best,” she even flipped her hair for a dramatic effect. 

They bagged the guy up like the others and Kowalsky carried him to his truck, returning to find Amber with some news, pointing up to the top of the cabin.

“There’s a guy up there as well,” she informed.
Kowalsky groaned. Of course there’d be another one. He didn’t wanna know what happened in here.

“There’s a tree just outside the room with a built-in ladder,” Amber added.

“Why does the tree have a ladder?” he asked.
The girl seemed to ponder if she was going to tell him why, and eventually decided it couldn’t hurt. “This cabin kinda used to be my favorite one as a kid so my dad got someone to build a ladder up to the little balcony and added a plastic red slide,” she explained fondly while pointing up the hole in the left side of the wall upstairs. Kowalsky chuckled, a little amused.

“Your dad gave you a treehouse as well?”

Amber looked somberly at the ground. “No.” she answered, adding a pitch to the word as well as a fake sniff at the end before looking back at Kowalsky with a smirk. “Said he didn’t wanna ruin the tree and make it ugly in the future,”

“Oh how dare he.”

“Urgh, I know right.” she agreed. “I suppose I get it now though, plus he made it up to me by commissioning someone to make me a little hideout,”

“Oh yeah? Where would that be?” he asked. Amber defensively crossed her arms and shook her head warningly. “Just wanted to know if there could possibly be a scene wherever your hideout is,”

“Well, he did- … Oh god,” Amber’s coherent sentence was abruptly cut off by her remembering something, making her mumble her last words. Kowalsky furrowed his brows and looked at her, alarmed. Amber sighed before she caught her words again. “The guy, who the girls had been talking about in the groupchat, he asked me a few days before we got here for a secret and closed off location and I mentioned my hideout,”

“Think he’s done something?”

“Yes, absolutely.”

“How about we check that place out after we get Rapunzel down from there?” he suggested as he pointed up to the body, feeling Amber glare at him. She turned and walked away, but stopped as she noticed Kowalsky wasn’t following and whipped her head around to glance at him.

“Aren’t you coming?”

“To where?”

“The tree with the ladder?”

Kowalsky didn’t need words to answer as he proceeded to pick up the fallen ladder and prop it up against the wall and up to the bedroom. Amber stared at the ladder being placed, disappointed she hadn’t considered it. The ladder was also more stable than a couple nailed in wooden planks placed years ago.

“You wanna go up first?” he asked, confused as Amber proceeded to look at him with a face of disgust.

“ No ?”

“Don’t worry, the ladder doesn’t have that much blood on it-”

“Kowalsky,” Amber said sternly, spinning an odd accent on his name but getting his attention nonetheless. “ I’m wearing a skirt. ” That seemed to get the message across as Kowalsky raised his hands almost in defeat, not wanting to debate anymore. He quickly climbed up the ladder and watched tensely as Amber came up after, shaking in her high heels while climbing. He held out a hand for her to take but she smacked it away and got up with a little difficulty and sawdust on her skirt.

The body upstairs was yet another construction worker, and his cause of death was easy to pinpoint. The glass on the right side of the cabin was gone, and a piece of metal had been flung into the guy’s skull, going all the way through, killing him. Kowalsky figured the metal piece was of something that got caught in the blast over by the fire pit. What had those kids been up to? 

Kowalsky ripped the metal piece out and then he and Amber collaborated to get the guy in a plastic bag.
Once the guy was fully bagged up, Amber asked the question. “And how do we get him down?”
And once again, Kowalsky answered silently, by shoving the bag with his foot and letting it hit the floor below them with a heavy thumb.

They cleaned that place up decently fast as well. Amber swept with the broom and Kowalsky cleaned with his mop and sponges.

While he walked back with the bag over his shoulder and Amber with trash bags in her hands, he struck her a question. “So, why’s the cabin under construction?”

“Well, since I now own it, I wanted to touch it up a couple of places, specifically my cabin,” she explained. “I wanted shelves along the ceiling and the roof in the bedroom to be made out of glass entirely.”

“You like sleeping under the stars?” he asked, pretty sure Elena would love to do that. Amber only shrugged however.

“They’re pretty I guess, I just want them so I can place more plants in the room,”

Kowalsky quirked a brow of interest. “Plants? You’re a plant person?”

She nodded. “What better way to spice your interior up than some good old beautiful plants? My favorites are the venus fly traps,”

Of course that’d be her favorite, Kowalsky thought. “That’s nice. I can barely keep a cactus alive,”

“I’m just surprised you can keep yourself alive at this point,” Amber remarked.
He wasn’t going to tell her, but sometimes he thought that as well. 

-----

While Amber was showing Kowalsky where the hideout was, he was stopped by another sight, surprised he hadn’t spotted this scene before. It was a cozy little patio with an entrance covered in balloons. It was between the first and middle cabin, like a little hangout area with benches on both sides, all it was missing was a grill. What it could do well without the bloody display in front of them. A guy was lying on the wooden floor in an almost recognizable pose, bleeding out from a large open wound from his neck and next to him was a little tricycle tilted on its side. Around the area were scattered broken wooden planks.

Kowalsky couldn’t tell what happened until he saw another broken plank on the wooden beams functioning as a loft. He sighed, disappointed.
“Please don’t tell me the guy tried to ride down unstable wooden planks on a tricycle,” he muttered.

Amber smirked. “The guy tried to ride down unstable wooden planks on a tricycle,”

“Thank you, Amber.”

She shrugged as if to say “you’re welcome,” with a smile before returning to look at her deceased friend, or at least he was an acquaintance. She had a look of false pity on her face.
“Fond of this guy?” he asked, immediately seeing his assumption was wrong as Amber laughed, amused.

“No! Fuck no,” she paused to laugh. “This guy is just… sad,”

“How so?”

“He does shit like this for attention all the time, just sad he never gets it,” she explained.

“Died as he lived I suppose,” Kowalsky guessed “Trying to ride that high-”

“Don’t make this into a pun, ”

-----

“In there?” He asked.

“In there.” Amber confirmed.
Kowalsky looked to where she was claiming her hiding spot was. The entrance was apparently in the fence made of bushes, and covered up by plants and flowers going around the main house and pool area. Being that close now he could hear the party music still going on at the house.

He pushed the covering plants aside and there was indeed a tunnel, leading further in. His problem was the size of the tunnel, as it was certainly made to fit a child, not a full grown adult. He could already feel his bones beginning to ache at the near thought of crouching through that. 

Alas, they had to check the area. If the explosion was big enough to fling a metal piece far and through a window and into a guy’s skull, it wouldn’t surprise Kowalsky if something had landed in there. This night couldn’t get any stupider, could it?
He got down on his knees and ducked down, crawling through the lit up tunnel, Amber eventually getting down as well and followed suit. It was quite a path for one kid, he thought. It had turns and looked well taken care of, not a lot of branches poking through. Kowalsky hoped their gardener was getting paid well. As they got closer Kowalsky could hear music coming from ahead. It was nice, compared to the blasting noise from the house.
The sight on the other side when Kowalsky was out of the tunnel and finally able to stand up straight was… sweet. He was surprised by how different this spot looked. There were bushes with roses and pink flowers, small metal tables with stylish lanterns. All around the place was a curtain of lights alongside big red heart balloons. At the other side was a bench, with a wine bottle, a piece of paper and letter balloons with the words WILL YOU MARRY ME spelled out.
It seemingly had not been disturbed by the outside circumstances.

Amber came up behind him, saw the decorations and stared bewildered, only one question on her mind. “How’d he get all the stuff in here?”

“Dedication.” Kowalsky answered, it being his best bet. Amber ignored him and continued to look around, enjoying the momentary display.

“Hm, I’d give them a week,” she said with no context.

“What?”

“A month if I’m being positive,”

“Would you be decent and explain?” he asked.

“Them. Their marriage, ” she spoke mockingly and cartoonishly battered her eyes. “Thomas’ a nice guy but like, unbelievably stupid. I guess that’s endearing to some people,” she guessed. “And Anne… God, listen, if self consciousness was a competition, she wouldn’t even compete. Girl was always convinced he was cheating,”

“Was he?”

“... We went to a club once and a girl asked for his numbers and he genuinely thought she wanted his business number,” Amber explained. Kowalsky brought a knuckle up to hide his smile as he snorted, a funny image in his mind. “Well… Do we clean this up?” she asked.

“I don’t think a crime has been committed here, so, that’d be extra.” he answered. Couldn’t buy two services at the price of one.

“Money hungry, aren’t you?” Amber guessed. “Dad did mention that.”
Kowalsky shrugged as if to say “I guess so” although it probably wasn’t the word he’d use on himself. It wasn’t like he was hoarding the money all for himself and using it on nonsense. Far from it actually. All the money he got from cleaning up for Jim and others all went to Elena, first thing as soon as he got it, and his regular income from his janitor position went to his more normal life expenses like food, bills and those shark slippers that lit up his daughter’s face the whole day.
Worth every fucking cent. 

-----

They crawled out of the hideout that Amber got made for her as a kid, that apparently had gotten touched up through the years. Part of Kowalsky was jealous, not because he didn’t have that as a kid, but for the fact he couldn’t afford to give all of this to his own daughter. Their garden was the patch of grass in front of their house and the best they could do as a hideout was to make tents with pillows and blankets in the living room. While simple, it seemed that Elena at least loved to do those back in the day.

Well, they had one final location to clean up; The main house and pool. As they walked towards the stone stairs leading up to the pool and terrace, something caught their eyes. It was another path of wooden planks, although these were intact and in a line, leading up the stairs to the pool.
Kowalsky glanced at Amber, and Amber glanced back. They both knew something was up, but neither knew what exactly. They followed the makeshift path to the pool, where it ended at the edge, making the whole thing look like a very long and unstable skating ramp.

They looked down at the pool, noting the water had been drained, leaving a huge blood splatter on the opposite side at the bottom. Someone had gone up the ramp and landed roughly in the water, but where’d they go.
Their eyes followed the trail going from the splatter and up the pool ladder, all the way to an area in front of the house with white couch cushions and a heater.
The body laid upon the pillows, staining them and bleeding out. Kowalsky’s eye twitched at the display. He couldn’t have chosen a better place to bleed out.

“ Odjebało ci! ” Kowalsky shouted, completely done with all the stupidity of this evening. Amber quirked a brow of interest, mainly in seeing the janitor lose his temper as he headed straight for the man. “Here. You decided to bleed out here ?! Really?! The fuck did I do for you to do this?!” he scolded the already dead body. “Couldn’t have done us a favor and bleed out in the pool?!”

“I guess you don’t think well when you’re high out of your mind,” Amber guessed. “And currently bleeding out tremendously.”

Kowalsky grabbed the guy by his shoulder and rolled him over and down on the floor, letting his blood-free body hit the floor with a pathetic plop. “Then why drain your pool when you’re this chaotic when drugs are involved?” he asked.

“We drained it because of the very real situation of drowning .” Amber answered. “Plus, we’ve all been high together before and this hadn’t happened… Guess this stuff really would spice things up .” she airquoted her last words and deepened her voice, almost like she was mimicking someone. Possibly the dealer who’d given it to her in the first place.

“You’re very lucky you just passed out instead, wouldn’t have been a fun day if Jim called because his daughter was caught in the explosion,” Kowalsky congratulated, earning a brow of confusion from Amber in the middle of his sentence.

She chuckled. “Didn’t realise both you and my dad were on a first name basis,” she noted.

“We’re not. I’m just not calling him Big Jim,” Kowalsky explained. “He’s still using my last name.”

“Oh, I just thought Kowalsky was your first name, like the penguin,” Amber referenced. Kowalsky paused, glancing at Amber and then looking away again. He loathed that penguin. He didn’t stop Elena from watching the movies, and he would not comment when she’d drawn him as a penguin. But when strangers referred to it? A little part of him dies.

“No, it’s a last name,” he muttered, defeated.

“What’s your first name then?” when Kowalsky’s only answer was a shrug, Amber decided that wouldn’t suffice. “Is it embarrassing? Like Dick? Gerold? Steve?” her grin widened at every older man’s name she suggested to an unphased Kowalsky.

“It’s just Kowalsky .”

“Can I call you Kevin?” she knew she was irritating the janitor, and she was enjoying it. Kowalsky wasn't, however.

“Let’s just get this little mermaid into his worst nightmare; plastic.”
If they could, Amber’s ears would bleed from pain by listening to Kowalsky. 

-----

Amber got the body bagged up and Kowalsky quickly put the white cushions in water by a nearby hose and empty barrel, getting them ready for cleaning for later. The girl got trash duty while Kowalsky went to the truck with the body. He came back and was about to open the doors for the party house till he noticed Amber’s movement; she was getting tired, which was understandable. He had no idea what the time was, but it was late morning at least. She’d been out for a while but was still running out of energy quickly. He took a bit of pity on her as she’d walk slower and slower over to each piece of trash. Although if she was faking it, she was doing one great job. He got a bag out of his own and started to pick up as well and saved the bloodwork for later. He got most of the trash and they got that done quicker. They sat the trashbags aside for now, planning to bring them back to the truck at another moment.

Next task, the main house. They opened the sliding doors with ease, Kowalsky jumping as soon as the loud music reached his ears. He enjoyed music, especially the loud kind, but it had to be good in his taste.

“You couldn’t listen to some better music than this? It’s just loud for the sake of being loud,” Kowalsky complained. Amber chuckled quietly and closed her eyes, not energized enough to keep them open for long.

“Uhm, it’s fucking OSTATARAK , ever heard of them?”

“Right now? That's all I can hear,” Kowalsky replied, covering his ears as he walked inside, Amber following suit but able to ignore the eardrum breaking noise.
She was the first of them to acknowledge the guy strung onto the wall above the table, two bolts. One above the guy’s head, piercing an apple to the wall. The second one pierced his throat, letting blood drip down his throat and unclothed chest. Amber had questioned, however she wanted none of them answered. 

Kowalsky found the speaker blasting the music and turned it off, relieving his ears of the torture, but still had to tolerate the ringing left in his eardrums.
He turned around and looked at the guy as if he hadn’t spotted him, mostly because he didn’t. He was focused on turning the music off.

“Huh,” he muttered slightly confused. “Where’d his shirt go?”

“That’s the part you’re most confused about?”

“Well, I got a pretty good idea on how he died,” he said and signaled towards the arrows still stuck in the wall. “Gotta say, that was a pretty bolt move of him,”
Amber glared daggers at Kowalsky as he spoke, warning him to shut up. Sadly for her, he was having fun for once.

“He’s a bad shot, that’s for sure.” Amber concluded.

“Should I remind you you couldn’t shoot a dead guy right below you on the first shot?”

“No, no you shouldn’t.” she demanded in a let's not talk about that tone of voice. “Besides, I can hit people when they’re moving,”

“Really?”

“Yes,” she answered firmly, afterwards going through her mind for a memory of her hitting a moving target. The worst one being said out loud. “I shot my dad once.”
Kowalsky looked at her with an expression saying I don’t believe you .

“Really? You shot your own dad?”

“Yes.”

“Well, clearly it wasn’t enough because he’s still alive,”

“It was in the foot,” she admitted and mumbled the last part. “And it was an accident.”
Kowalsky chuckled at the image of Jim being shot in the foot, accidently, by his own daughter. The man would hold his breath from yelling at his daughter, and Amber would look terrified. What a fun scene, he’d pay to see it.

“So, the only time you can hit something with your first shot is when you’re not trying to? That’s poetic,”

“Shut up.” she sneered at the entertained janitor. 

“Well, should we get Robin Hood down from there?”

“Just… shut up, please.” she pleaded almost like she was in pain. He chuckled a bit at her misery and went to get the guy down, the bolt in his throat making disgusting fleshy noises and he pulled it out and tossed it on the already bloody floor. The arrow was the only thing holding the man up, and as soon as that was gone, his body leaned over and almost bodied the janitor, once again. Kowalsky held his hands up to make space and held the man up.

“Whoa! Not interested buddy,”

He could hear Amber chuckle from the display. “Aw come on Kowalsky, you’re hurting his feelings. He just wants a kiss,”

“At least buy me a drink first,” Kowalsky glared at the body before turning it over and letting the guy flop down on the floor. Amber watched on amused, mimicking her father’s smirk.

“So, if I’m not mistaken, that should be body number ten, correct?” Kowalsky asked, hoping Amber would get it up to ten as well, or if he should get better at remembering things.
Amber counted on her fingers and mumbled their names along the way until she reached the last pinky, totalling the bodies to a good round 10. She nodded in agreement.

“Any idea where our lucky winner is hiding?” he asked.
Amber took a look around the party house, finally landing her eyes on a closed door right next to them. She nodded her head in its direction and Kowalsky jumped down from the table to open it. Down in front of him was the final body of the night, sitting up against the bed, with an arrow in his leg.

Kowalsky smirked. “Looks like this guy-”

“If you say took an arrow to knee I will fucking bite you.” Amber interrupted him sternly. He didn’t say anything in retaliation. She was figuring him out. Was he getting predictable? Oh no, that couldn’t be happening.

He signaled for her to help him bag the two guys up, afterwards he swung one of them over his shoulder and Amber grabbed the other guy by one of his ankles through the plastic and dragged him with no effort nor enthusiasm, dragging him over sharp and rough terrain with no care.
Before they left for the truck, Kowalsky took one glance at the house.

“A rave full of dead people,” he looked back at Amber. “A raveyard?”
He felt proud when he saw a piece of her soul shatter through her eyes. If she wanted to cry she definitely could have in that moment. 

Returning to the house, Kowalsky cracked his knuckles and stretched his arms. Amber attempted the same but no noise could be heard from her hands. Her bones not stiff enough as his.

They got cleaning and as per routine now, Amber got the trash and Kowalsky started cleaning the floors and surfaces, putting the furniture back in their spots. He’d decided he would ignore the existence of the carpets in the house for now, the cushions were already a migraine in themselves. 

Amber had gotten all the trash from the living room and had moved into the kitchen area.
Kowalsky paused as he heard a loud audible groan from the girl. He quickly humored himself with the thought she’d spotted a cheesy quote in the kitchen somewhere before going in to check on her.

“Okay, who’s having fun in here?” he asked but as soon as he saw what Amber was staring at, he knew. The kitchen was a war zone. Piles of dishes and glasses propped up on one another making pyramids upon pyramids. One little shove and everything would come crashing down. “Not us, okay then.”

Amber’s eye twitched and she tried to collect herself with a less than reassuring sigh. “I wanna go to bed. I wanna go back to bed, and never wake up.” she muttered.
Kowalsky walked up behind her and patted her on the shoulder, breaking the second rule he’d been given, but Amber didn’t seem to register it as her gaze was fixed on the floor in front of her.

“Need a moment?” he asked.
She nodded as a reply and sat down up against the wall, groaning as she finally got off her feet.
Kowalsky glanced around for an object, he had an idea.

“Do you drink coffee?”

Amber looked back up at him with squinted eyes, suspicious. “Latte.” she demanded.

“Best I can do is normal coffee with milk, Amber,” he admitted. Kowalsky was much more of a dark coffee user and much less anything else.

Amber rolled her eyes and relented. “Fine.”

He cleared the counters by the wall while waiting for the machine to finish brewing. Thankfully all the glass architecture was on the aisle counters.
He’d found a cabinet with untouched mugs, that seems to be the one thing they didn’t touch the whole night.
The whole time Amber was on her phone, typing and scrolling away. He’d ask what she was doing but he was pretty sure he wouldn’t get answer and instead told to fuck off following an eyeroll. 

Finally the hundred dollars worth machine was done and Kowalsky poured their mugs and added milk to Amber’s.
He handed her the drink and the warmth emitting from the cup sent shivers up her arms. The oversized jacket kept her warm enough for the outside, but overtime it warmed her less until her temperature was just fine. But now that they were inside the house with the warm lights and heated floor, the coffee was enough for her to say; “Fucking hell, it’s warm.” she put the coffee down for a moment as she awkwardly shifted the jacket off and let it lay on the warm floor around her.

Kowalsky sat down against the wall as well, leaving a hole in between the two of them so as to not sit too close.
When her jacket fell, his eyes caught something interesting; a tattoo on her upper arm. It was delightfully simple enough. It was a black lined heart with the word DAD written on the inside.
He couldn’t help but snort. “That a birthmark of yours?”

Amber looked at him confused but caught on pretty fast as she saw where his eyes were. She laughed mockingly. “Funny.” she snarled before bringing the mug up to her lips and lightly tilting it. She swallowed and waited a few seconds before continuing. “I just lost a bet with my dad, is all.”

“So he forced you to get a tattoo?”

“Forced and forced. He paid for it and selected the design, which was then ok’ed by me of course. I’m not getting something stupid tattooed on my body,” Amber paused to quickly drink from her mug again. “Besides, I really like it, and it was fair that he got payback.”

“From the shooting him in the foot , incident?” Kowalsky guessed. It made the most sense to him, an eye for an eye or something along those lines.

Amber beamed proudly. “Nope. We had a bet before that where I won and he got one of my drawings as a tattoo,”

“Oh that’s just adorable,” Kowalsky replied without thought, surprised that he found himself admitting to that out loud. “Hopefully it was something embarrassing?” she shook her head. “Is it that sleeve?” he then guessed, running out of ideas for what it could be with what little information he was given. Maybe it was a matching tattoo like her but with her name instead.

She shook her head again. “I just drew him a cute little sunset,” she finally answered. “I was eight or something so I panicked so I just drew something really quick,” a mischievous smirk crept up on her lips. “Although it's on the same foot I shot him in.”

Kowalsky let out a laugh at that. “Jesus, give that foot a break, will you Amber?”

“I will do no such thing.” she answered before sipping her coffee again briefly. “Any tattoos?”

Kowalsky needed a moment to register that she was asking him an actual question and not just taunting him.”Oh, uhh, no.” he finally answered. “They’re expensive,”

Amber scoffed at that answer. “Expensive? Don’t my dad pay you thousands to clean up?”

“That he does. Sadly, you can’t eat tattoos,” he explained. “Plus, I don’t know what I would even want so I haven't tried. They’re not so much my thing,”

“Thought you already had one,”

He turned his head and looked at her with a face of confusion. “What?”

“Yeah you know, on your forehead,” she pointed. “It says bitch.”
While he would congratulate her on her creative insult, he refused, and in response he simply guided her hand away from his face. Amber smirked in satisfaction, having successfully gotten under the janitor’s skin.

“You got five minutes before we get back to work,”

Amber huffed. “Alright mister dictator,” 

Amber proceeded to enjoy her coffee for five minutes uninterrupted. Kowalsky got up less than two minutes later and went back to working on the stupid stained carpets, taking an occasional sip of his coffee every once in a while. He found a few dollar bills in the drawers beneath the television and pocketed them. Hopefully Amber wouldn't notice and throw a fit about it.

Speaking of his boss’ clone, he heard Amber stand up and take a deep breath before she’d clean the kitchen aisle off so they could get a mop and sponge in there without covering everything in sharp pieces of glass. It went well for a while from what he could hear. Couple of glasses would ding when they made contact, but he didn’t hear anything shatter, he was happy for that. Just as he thought that, he realised he’s jinxed them as suddenly a loud piercing wave of shattered glass travelled through the home, afterwards accompanied by silence, and then Amber’s yelling.

“Aw come on!” she shouted.

“Need me to fetch you the broom?”

“... Yes.” she begrudgingly agreed. While he couldn’t see her expression, he felt scowling was a good guess as to what she looked like when answering.

-----

Well, it certainly took a while. The kitchen itself was a hard task in itself as Kowalsky almost finished the living room up before Amber was done with the mess. He did spend a moment to look over the room and feel like something was missing. His interior decorator mind would not settle as something looked odd about the room. No sane person would have a dinner table and only buy three chairs for it. He looked outside by the pool and over the grass, seeing if the chair had been thrown into a bush or hurled over on the patch of dirt, but he couldn’t see it.

He walked back in to see if Amber had seen it, but out of the top of his eye he found it, and sighed, irritated.
Someone had thrown it up on the doodle of a lamp, out of sight.

“Teenagers,” he grumbled before stepping on the couch and lifting the stool down without breaking the light nor dirtying the just cleaned furniture.

He walked into the kitchen where Amber was still hard at work but almost done. She too had stopped to take a quick coffee break, savoring the cozy warmth from the drink and she was wearing the oversized jacket again, its sleeves rolled up past her elbows.
Kowalsky helped her clean the table of danger entirely. Last thing left was to clean the floors on counters of blood splatter that had somehow found its way in here. Kowalsky handed Amber a clean sponge before picking his dirty water bucket up to fill it with new water.
Sadly, as soon as Amber started to try and clean the surface, she scrubbed with too much force and slipped. She didn’t hurt herself, but she did manage to paint the underside of her arm in blood. She froze and looked at her arm, then around to spot something she could dry her arm off with, and smirked when she found the perfect object.

Kowalsky turned around, confused as to why Amber suddenly had walked up to him, and as close as she was getting.

“What ar- hey !” he shouted in surprise and Amber proceeded to dry her arm off in his light grey sleeve, a smirk of satisfaction on her lips. Kowalsky could only glare for now, trying to decide what he could do in return without being visited by her dad in the dead of night for a talk .

Amber giggled in delight of her torment as if she had the higher ground, which she did in a way, but not for long.
Calmly as he could, he dipped his gloved hand into his bucket, stared at Amber but before she could grasp what he was doing, he grabbed onto her clothed shoulder. She screamed in disgust and jumped back, shouting profanities at him. Some in English, others in what he assumed to be italian.

“You son of a bitch!” she yelled, facing him directly, eyes full of detest.

“Eye for an eye, child. Deal with it.” Kowalsky quickly clapped back.

“Excuse you? I’m an adult,”

“Nothing you have done tonight has made me think that, Amber.” he replied. “And what did I do for you to use me as a drying towel?!”

“You existed !”

Well, not much he could do about that one, nor did he want to. He sent her back to her work and she did, begrudgingly. 

It took a while, and a lot of snappy comments from Amber, but they got the job done. The place was cleaned up, everything in its place and no spot of blood had been left behind.

Funny thing was the task that took the most effort and time was the blood stained cushions from the guy who successfully attempted a stunt and accidently died. 

His almost newly bought detergents were almost up due to the amount he kept pouring in, as the blood just would not leave the fabric. After 10 minutes of getting nowhere, even Amber seemed to run out of patience for this as she’d groan in annoyance and at one point flipped off in the direction of Kowalsky’s truck where the bodies were in.

“I hate that guy,” she mumbled.

Kowalsky found himself nodding in agreement. 

Soon, they could feel the outside breeze change to one in the morning, followed by the sight of birds taking flight over the cabins. The sight of the sun was not far away, which meant Elena could wake up soon. Just for safety, he left a note before he drove, but she was smart enough to figure out where he'd gone. Besides, it wouldn't be long before he could start the journey back home, and finally, get some fucking sleep after Jim oh so rudely woke him up.

Eventually, the stained cushions had been plowed and suffocated enough for all the dried blood to get out. Kowalsky was rough with the cushions as he wanted to blood out now , while Amber was carefully dipping them in buckets of detergent water and rubbing them with sponges. She worried he’d damage or somehow rip the cushions apart, but he didn't. They were definitely beaten to a pillowy pulp, but they’d look normal if given some time.

Now all Amber had to do was text her father saying it was done, and to come and pick her up, she was tired.

“Can’t wait to just lie down on my bed when I get home and sleep,” Amber said, stretching her somehow overworked arms over her head.
They stood over by the gate to the whole fenced area where Kowalsky had parked, and where the little trash corner with cardboard and empty boxes. He counted up the bodies, doing a double check, and he had the 9 fully bodied people, and the 2 less than fully bodied people.

Something bugged him however with the bodies.
“Amber,” Kowalsky called out, getting the blonde haired girl to glance over at him. “Where’s the bow?”

The girl seemed ready to give him an answer but halted, thought for a moment as a puzzled look spread across her face, and shrugged.
“Dunno, actually. I never saw it, and we didn’t find it.”

There was a quiet moment between them, the two of them internally agreeing on something; it had to be found. It was some questionable evidence from the events that transpired. It was not gonna be out in the open obviously. Maybe behind a bush or two, but how far did it get from the two guys who were shot.
Where would someone hide a murder weapon?

Kowalsky slowly turned his head in the trash and waste corner to the big green container. No… way. It could not be that easy.
Amber looked in his direction and they exchanged a knowing glance. It could very well be that easy.

“Do you think they were stupid enough?” He asked.

“Do I really need to answer that?”

Before Kowalsky could really feel even worse about today’s youth, he needed to actually confirm they had dumped whatever bow they used into the trash right outside.
He walked up to it, past the boxes of trash placed on the ground covered in spider web and lifted the top off, the right one immediately revealing a sleek brown crossbow laying on top of black plastic bags. There was no attempt to even cover it up. It even still had strokes and specks of blood on it.

“Yup, they were stupid enough.” He declared as he fished the murder weapon out, showcasing it. “Recognize it?”

“Nah, the only weapon that should be on the property is the one inside my jacket,” Amber answered and demonstrated by gently tapping the side of the jacket.

“So, one of your acquaintances brought it?” He guessed, presumably correct as Amber did not object. “Were they allowed to bring weapons like this?”

She shook her head. “I don't have time to go full SWAT team in everyone’s bags,”

“You should probably start doing that, if you’d still been awake you could’ve accidently been shot as well. Hell, you could’ve even been a part of that explosion as well.” As he continued to unintentionally lecture her, he could see she didn't care about what he was saying as she had her eyes and head pointed in the complete opposite direction, avoiding even looking at him out of annoyance.
Why was he even telling her this? He didn’t think more about it and dropped the subject alongside the crossbow into the back of his truck.

“I’m an adult, I don’t need lecturing,” Amber snarked, finally looking at him but with a glare. “Especially not from you .”

“Wasn’t trying to, just telling-”

“Yeah and for the fifth time today Kowalsky, just shut up!” Amber exclaimed, bringing a hand up and acting as if she was tending to a migraine. “Your voice is so aggravating,”

Kowalsky let the insults hit and roll off his shoulders. He remembered the rule; annoy, don't insult. But oh boy this kid was asking for verbal comeuppance. 

“That’s a shame,” he responded.

“It reminds me of this,” Clearly Amber was not done insulting the man who had annoyed her with puns for hours, as she spoke and pointed to a wooden crate covered with an ugly blanket. “Fugly and stale.” she ended it off with a light kick to the crate, rustling whatever was in there a bit around. 

Kowalsky looked unamused. “Got anything else?”

Amber pondered for a moment. “Yeah, this is what your face reminds me off- Argh!” she plucked the blanket off and jumped away with a pitched scream, acting startled.

Kowalsky sighed, disappointed. Her acting was good, but he saw the joke a mile away. 

“That’s funny,” Kowalsky paused to yawn. “If I was twenty three,”

He'd imagend Amber would have some kind of reaction to him somehow knowing her age, but she didn't back down from her startling act. “The joke is over Amber, you can stop,” 

She didn't stop and instead walked behind him and shooed him away with her hand so as to not touch him. Kowalsky looked at her, concerned. “Can you speak? You not talking is almost worrying.”

“Just go have a look!” She urged, almost quick enough for it all to be one word. There was no hidden smirk or gleam of amusement in her eyes. She wasn’t acting. Something really did catch her off guard, but what?

Kowalsky stopped being a makeshift meat shield for Amber and walked over to the discarded crate. Carefully eyeing the crate until its content was on display. His eyes widened.

“Are those grenades ?”

Amber nodded to confirm. Sure enough, the wooden crate had a couple of decent sized grenades lying on thin strands of hay. Thank whatever stopped them from exploding when Amber kicked it.

“You really need to start checking people’s bags-”

“I know!” She exclaimed. “Can you just, dispose of them before my dad comes?”

Kowalsky chuckled at the audacity she was displaying. “Do I look like someone who's experienced in the field of explosives?”

“... Your face looks like it's been through it-”

“ I get it , thank you Amber.”

He took no time creating a distance between him and the crate while he discussed with Amber, who also took a few steps away as well, just to be safe.

“Who brought grenades for a party?” he asked. He would be more concerned over the fact, but too much stupid stuff had happened this evening already and this was just pushing it. Had this been what caused that explosion by the fire pit? How did someone get multiple grenades with such a powerful explosion it could fling a fully grown human body through a second story window?

“Probably the guy who's dad is in the military,” Amber speculated casually, having seemingly calmed down from the initial reaction of the sight of the smaller explosive weapons. “... And who was proposing to his girlfriend.”

“Did he want to kill everyone?”

“No… I just think he couldn't afford fireworks,” Amber guessed. 

Kowalsky groaned and rubbed his face, trying to get rid of the confusion and hassling headache. This was just too stupid.
“I’m not dealing with those, your dad’s going to have to handle that,”

Amber looks down at her phone, seeing a new notification on her lock screen.

“Speaking of my dad,” she said. “Seems like he wants to have a quick chat with you?”

“What have you told him?” he asked, not putting the idea aside that Amber has been texting her dad stories or lies about him whenever she was on it.

“Nothiiing,” Amber answered with a grin. “Yet, at least.”

-----

Well, waiting for Jim didn’t take too long thankfully. Amber was busy on her phone, sitting on one of the now neatly placed benches by the fire pit. Kowalsky in the meantime had climbed into his truck, fished some old papers out from his glove box and cleared a couple of sudoku puzzles. 

He wondered why Jim wanted to speak to him, maybe he had questions about something. Something about Amber possibly. If this was any other crime scene he’d be gone by now, at home and in his bed. But instead he was here, the sun slowly rising, providing light but no warmth.  

As soon as they heard gravel being crushed beneath the moving track, Kowalsky begrudgingly jumped out of his truck and Amber rose from her seat almost exited. She was finally going home and getting some sleep, as the caffeine could only carry  her so far.

Jim drove his car past the gate and parked a bit further up than Kowalsky, before turning the engine off and stepping out. He looked more put together than a mere few hours ago, but still tired. His hair was set up nicely and his clothes were groomed and complemented each well with a rust colored shirt, the top buttons undone as always, and dark brown pants accompanied by a belt.
He reminded Kowalsky of those parents who’d dress extra nicely when picking up their kids from school. 

Amber seemed relieved at the sight of dad, but turned her head to look at Kowalsky with a smirk.

“You don’t speak Italian, do you?”

“Uh, no.”

“Good, good… Oh papà! ” she suddenly exclaimed with a burst of emotion, running over to her dad and embracing him like she hadn’t seen him in forever, crocodile tears streaming down her cheeks. Both of the men were stunned.

“Oh papà, è stato terribile! Kowalsky è stato incredibilmente cattivo con me, per favore fallo smettere! ” Amber cried out, turning the dramatics up to a hundred with more fake tears streaming from her eyes.
Kowalsky stared in disbelief. He didn’t understand a word she said, but he caught his own name being mentioned, which couldn’t be good for him.
Jim looked down at his daughter, who had her head buried in between her father’s shoulder and neck, with a softened expression and a little smile.

“Mi dispiace sentirlo, tesoro ,” Jim spoke with a calming voice and a gleam in his eyes of amusement. He gently stroked her hair as if to soothe her. He couldn't quite place his finger on it, but listening to Jim speak his native language was certainly interesting. It sounded so natural to him and the words slipped out with no effort, paired with his fatherly tone, he just sounded nice. Nicer than what you’d think a mob boss would sound like. “ Me ne occupo io, quindi non preoccuparti. Vai a sederti in macchina, io arrivo subito .”
Oh that wasn’t reassuring either, especially not when Amber looked up at her father, nodded and walked towards the car, sneakily shooting Kowalsky a winning smirk in his direction. What had she told her dad?

Jim watched as his daughter got inside his car, sitting in the passenger seat, before he turned his attention to Kowalsky, all the smiles and gleams in his eyes were gone as he walked up to him, reverting back to his position of being his boss.

“So, what’d you say to her?” he asked and gestured towards her. Amber had her phone in hand, but that wasn’t what she had her attention on. She was watching them.

“What did she indicate?” Kowalsky asked, sure she had either written or told her father a lie.

Jim narrowed his eyes warningly. “Did you or did you not insult my daughter?”

Kowalsky had to hold himself from chuckling. So that’s what she’d told him, how funny. If anyone had insulted anyone this evening, it was Amber.
“I gotta be honest with you Jim, the only one I’ve insulted this evening is you.”

The man didn't seem surprised or angry in the moment, probably having expected it or was just happy he wouldn’t have to talk to Kowalsky about being nicer to his daughter. In fact, the man let out a quiet laugh.
“The jokes were that bad huh?” he asked.

“I’d say they were just fine,” Kowalsky vindicated, earning him a slight eye roll from the taller man. The janitor made brief eye contact with Amber before she quickly looked away again, pretending she wasn’t looking.
They were a good distance away from her, plus the door to the car was closed so she couldn’t hear anything that was being said, but she could still spectate.

“Well, you definitely got her to hate you good. It’s not often she tries to get someone in trouble… on the first day,” Jim informed, chuckling at the last part as if a funny memory entered his mind. This wasn’t Amber’s first murder rodeo, and it probably wouldn’t be her last.

“And the uhh,” Jim gestured to Kowalsky’s upper arm, snapping his fingers, fishing for the right word. “Smear of blood on your arm? Alongside the handprint on my daughter?”
Oh right, that was a rule he broke. But technically, he didn’t touch her, only the jacket, which he presumed didn’t belong to her.

“In all honesty Jim… she started it,”

“And you just sunk to her level?” To Kowalsky’s surprise, Jim seemed more amused than pissed off.

“Hey, I’m the one who’s gonna have to wash this shit out,” he explained and tugged on his sleeve, showcasing the now more dried up blood smear on the light fabric.

Jim seemed to think for a moment, eyeing the janitor before he spoke. “Hm, okay listen here Kowalsky,” he moved closer and placed a firm hand on Kowalsky’s shoulder, causing the janitor to stiffen in surprise. “I’m gonna throw in a little extra for the clothes and for handling Amber, okay? But I’m gonna need you to stop bitching,”

“Get your hand off me.” Kowalsky sternly demanded, barely registering what Jim was saying as all he could think of was the man’s hand on his shoulder. “And don’t try to butter me up, Jim.”

The man laughed. “So, you don’t want the extra?”

“I didn’t say that,” Kowalsky quickly added. “You’re just being too nice for nothing,”

“I’d like to think I’m a good boss. Whenever my employees do well, they get rewarded as such.” Jim explained.

“Is that all before or after you put a bullet in their head?” Kowalsky challenged.

“Before,” Jim proudly answered, hardly offended at all. Seems like that nightly two hours of sleep for the man really did him well. “You don’t get far if you reward dead people.” he paused and took a moment to look at Kowalsky, from his dark shoes to the top of his greying hair. “Did you get any sleep at all?”

Kowalsky made a face which basically said “ Are you seriously asking me that?! ”.
“Then do me a favor, Kowalsky,” Jim said, almost putting his hand back on Kowalsky’s shoulder, but stopped and resorted to patting him instead. “Go home, and get a good night's rest,”

“It’s morning.” The janitor corrected him.

“... Get a good morning’s rest then, asshole.” Kowalsky turned to walk back to his car, but got quickly stopped by Jim’s hand. “But before you go, just, act like you’re really mad at me.”

Kowalsky arched his brow. “Why?” he was always mad at him, but Jim literally asking for it was different.

Jim pointed with his eyes subtly towards his daughter. “I’ll never hear the end of it from her if she thinks you got off scot free.”

Okay now he was up to speed, and he had a plan. “You want me to be mad at you?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“ Yes- ” Jim barely had time to register what he was saying yes to before he felt Kowalsky’s hand suddenly slapped his cheek. There wasn’t much strength in it at all, but it caught the mob boss off guard. Even Amber reacted from the car, her eyes wide and mouth agape. 

Jim had his eyes closed at the initial weak slap, but opened them again and glared at Kowalsky. Irritated and at a loss for words. It didn’t hurt him, it certainly wasn’t like last time Kowalsky punched him. Instead of a punch with rage and grief it was more of a joke, and Kowalsky seemed to revel in it as he had a small grin on his face.

“Kowalsky,” Jim muttered. “I’m gonna fucking kill you one day.”

“Just tell me ahead of time. I got stuff I need to sort out before then,” he joked back. Jim wasn’t amused however, and if he was he was doing a good job hiding it. Kowalsky watched as the man raised his hand to head, and harshly flicked him on the forehead. Kowalsky winced and brought a hand up to rub the now redden spot. 

“Just go home, Kowalsky.” And that seemed to be the end of it. Jim turned and made his way back to his car, trying to hide the smirk sneaking up on his face as he chuckled.
He said something to Amber when he opened the car door but it was unintelligible, Kowalsky did however see Amber smile in satisfaction. Then he remembered.

“Oh yeah Jim, by the way, there’s a crate of grenades by the trash, just thought you should know,” he called out.
Jim looked back up at him with widened eyes, and Amber froze in place, but that didn’t stop her from shooting one nasty glare at Kowalsky.

Before the other father could ask him what he was talking about, Kowalsky shouted and pointed. “Amber can tell you the rest. Have a nice morning,” he quickly waved them off insincerely before getting in his truck and driving off. Last thing he heard was Jim shouting his daughter's name.

Got some more doodles for ppl. (omg first look at Jim hehe)

Plus, this cleaning duo needed to be captured.

Chapter Text

“Hit it yet?”

“No,” Elena mumbled, discouraged at her dart that hit the outer layer of the dart board... Again. It was a common deal they’d make, if Elena could score a certain amount of points, she could stay up late, though it was only half an hour or so. It was her last night at home, and she wanted to spend as much time awake in her house as possible. She dreaded tomorrow, packing up the final things and being readmitted. She had loved being back home with her dad and their pets. 

For a while she felt like her life was resembling what it once did; normalcy. That was until the dread snuck back up on her like a creature from under her bed. 

Kowalsky seemed relieved at the fact she was getting readmitted, so at least one of them was happy about it.
She dreaded going back. She couldn't talk to many, sure there were other kids as well, but it reminded her of school when she would attend. And all the tests, exercises and treatments tired her out more mentally than physically, her body was already worn down, last thing she had was her mind.

“You used to be better at throwing darts,” Kowalsky commented, unaware of his daughter's current mood as she never let her thoughts manifest in her expressions.

He walked over, picked up a dart of his own and threw it at the board. He hit the middle, but it comically bounced off and fell on the floor.

Elena giggled. “So did you.”

“Shush.” he hushed his daughter and playfully grabbed her by the neck, causing her to scream. 

“No tickling!”

“I didn’t tickle you,”

“Yes you did!” She smacked her dad’s arm but he didn't seem phased as he wore a relaxed and calm smile as he looked at her. 

He gently rubbed her head. “Okay honey,”

Elena looked up at her dad. She was aware of her appearance changing over the recent years, but she wasn’t the only one. The circles under her dad’s eyes seemed to have gotten permanent and his hair started greying too fast and too early. His new work was obviously draining, and in her mind, sketchy as heck. Who goes to clean places in the middle of the night? And who pays her dad so much money to do so? Didn't help that one day he came home, and unbeknownst to him, he had a dried up red spot hidden in his stubble. She spotted it, but kept quiet.

“Can I stay up a bit late?” She asked, putting on her pair of puppy eyes. “Please dad?”

Yeah he wasn't winning this one. He sighed, defeated. “Not too late, okay Elena?”

“I won't,” she would. She beamed at him, acting as honest and innocent as she could. She wasn’t a great liar, and her dad knew it. 

Elena went over and gathered all the fallen darts on the floor and the ones that stuck to the board, while her father started cleaning up at the dining table. After dinner, Kowalsky had pulled out the colored papers and had announced that they’ll be making some stars. She wasn’t sure who’s stars were worse, but they were cute nonetheless.

“Have you thought about my question yet?” Her dad asked. 

Whatever his previous question was, she hadn’t thought about it. “No.” she answered. “What was your question again?”

“Where you wanna go when you get out.”

Elena appreciated her dad’s optimism, or complete denialism, but the word when left a bad taste in her mouth. “Oh, no I haven’t.” To be completely honest she doesn’t remember her dad even asking her that question. Maybe she just wasn’t paying attention that time. She preferred to zone out whenever the hospital got brought up and just nod along. 

She thought for a moment. “Can we go to a planetarium?” 

“A planetarium?” Kowalsky repeated, not confused but more so just making sure that was her final answer. Elena nodded eagerly.

“I haven’t been to one yet,”

“I see. I’ll look into it,” her dad promised her, finishing up putting the newly cut stars in a little box for tomorrow. “Anyways, you should be getting ready for bed,”

Elena almost felt her neck snap as she turned to look at her dad in disbelief. “I thought I could stay up late?”

“You can. In your bed.” he clarified. Elena pouted and gave him a disapproving glare. Sadly for her, her father only found her to be cute whenever she did that. Displaying that fact as he walked over and lightly patted her on the head. 

“What about you?” she asked, catching her dad off guard. “Will you be going to bed too?” she hoped he'd say yes, pleaded in her mind he'd say yes, but was dissapointed by her dad’s strained expression. 

“Oh, no uh, I won’t, sweetie. Sorry,” he answered, hand on his neck and avoiding eye contact. Guilty. 

“Work?” she assumed. He nodded. “Will you be gone for long?”
“Just a few hours, sweetie. I should be back before you wake up,”

She couldn’t tell her dad she was more worried about him than her. She’d learned at this point her dad will just brush off any of her concerns, saying “I’m okay,” and then carrying on.

“Will you be bringing a lunchbox? You didn’t eat that much dinner after all,” she asked, hoping now her dad could say yes.

“Yeah, I’ll bring some lunch-”
“And something to drink,” she quickly added. “And an energy bar-”

“Honey, who’s the parent here again?”

Elena grinned as she pointed a confident finger at herself, causing her father to fake an offended chuckle.

She spit out the toothpaste into the bathroom sink and let the water wash it away. She’d brushed her teeth and gotten dressed for bed, but had her other clothes prepped. 

Her dad was sitting on the couch, Dexter’s chin resting on his thigh and Bastard laying a few feet away from Kowalsky on the couch, giving him the judgemental cat glare they all seem to have. She walked out, ready to say a combined goodnight and goodbye and spotted a square object in her father’s hand. It looked familiar to a phone, but it was so much smaller, and it was a bright pink as well. 

She leaned over her dad from behind and raised an eyebrow. “What’s that?”
“It’s your mom’s old IPod.”

“... You mean I Pad ?” she asked, just assuming her dad was mispronouncing it. 

“Wha- No. You’ve never heard of an IPod?” he asked. “I can’t be that old,” 

Elena dared not to answer to her dad’s last words. “What does it do?”

“You download music from the internet onto it. Thought I could use it while working since I’m not allowed my phone,” he explained. 

“I thought you liked cleaning in silence?”

“I do, but sometimes a little background music is needed,” he explained. Elena nodded her head as if to say “that's fair”.

“So, what did mom have on it? Anything I know?”

“Uhh,” Her dad mumbled as he pressed the small buttons on the device and browsed the different downloaded songs and albums, shaking his head at his wife’s music taste with a smile on his face. She’s got albums from ABBA, Britney Spears and Backstreet boys on there. That was definitely his wife. 

Elena looked at the tiny screen and gave a mischievous laugh. “Have fun with that.”

Her dad had told her to go to bed and said he’d come by before he would drive. She laid in her bed, book in her hands and had a blanket spread over her, waiting while going over the plan in her head. Everything had been set up, now all she had to do was wait, and try to gather up enough courage and strength to carry it out. She was feeling far better, but it wouldn't last forever.

“I’ll be heading out now,” her dad had shoved her door open without her noticing and leaned his upper body into the room. “Get some sleep, okay?”

“You too.” she replied, though she knew her dad’s agreeing nod was just to try and ease her.

“Love you, Elena.”

“Love you too dad.”

Her dad exited her room and closed the door after him. Slowly after a bit, the stars stuck in her ceiling started glowing green, producing a comforting sight above her. She doesn't know how long they’ve been up there, and she was afraid to rearrange them in fear of them falling down and never sticking to the ceiling ever again.

She sat and waited, patiently, as she heard doors being closed, her dad walking around the house before what she assumed was the door to the garage closing, whereafter she couldn't hear any footsteps at all, but after a minute her dad’s truck started and she heard it drive out and away. 

She waited one minute more before she got out of bed and looked outside, seeing the car gone from their garage and all lights in the house turned off. Even Dexter and Bastard were in their usual sleeping spot, that being Dexter’s bed. Bastard had his own, but it seemed like he preferred sleeping on the german shepherd.

She found her dad’s phone down in the basement by his computer. It was odd she was down there, as she usually wasn’t allowed, but her dad wouldn’t know. He wouldn’t know anything that was going to happen tonight. 

She got it unlocked with minimal difficulty, misremembering her mother’s birthday, and found the tracking app that was tracking the location of her phone… that she had hidden in the glovebox of her dad’s truck completely unnoticed.

The app displayed the truck’s current position, having a bit of a rough time keeping up as her dad was still driving. He was heading towards the city.

It wasn’t like she wanted to do this. She excused herself by saying she had to make sure her dad was okay. He has to be doing something extreme to earn that much money while cleaning. It would’ve had to have been some really big parties her dad has been cleaning up afterwards, and Jim didn’t strike her as a party guy. She just needed to see.

She changed into the clothes she had prepared and stuffed her blanket with pillows and plushies, creating a cover if her dad somehow came home before her. Every five minutes or so she’d open the phone to see where her dad was at. He seemed to be driving in between the big city and the housing area, until the tracker stood still at a spot a bit away from the city. She was unfamiliar with whatever place this was, but it wasn’t a completely unreasonable distance away, better than in the middle of the city or on the other side. 

She knew where he was, and she knew her plan but… could she do it? Planning something and then executing it were two completely different tasks. One part was easy, the other part not so much. 

She had a small bag packed for her to bring with essentials, and she noticed her hands tremble as she swung it over her shoulders. She glanced over to the two pets, staring at her in curiosity. Could she bring Dexter? Have him with her for comfort? No, that’d be stupid. If Dexter sees dad he could start barking. Bastard was out of the question as he would absolutely try and run off.

She felt her heart hammer inside her chest and up her throat. She could still back down, but she might never get the chance again, as it was harder to get out of the hospital than her own home. Not that she tried, she was usually too tired. 

“I got this, I got this,” she whispered to herself before giving some final head scratches to Dexter and a farewell head rub to Bastard. Afterwards, she turned the lights off once more, headed out the front door, locking it again, and began walking.

-----

He got inside the building and closed the main entrance’s door and locked it behind him. The building was well lit already, as if it was still open. 

“Alright, the cleaning artist has arrived.”

A staff member of the modern art museum outside of town had been the one to contact Kowalsky. Asking him to come out and clean up after a “game” of theirs had taken place. Initially he was confused as to why he would be requested for such a task, but he was assured that he was the right person they asked for. 

He understood as soon as he surveyed the entrance hall. Paintings had been thrown off the wall and benches had been pushed around, almost trying to make a blockade of sorts. He proceeded to walk in further, quickly fixing a skewed painting on the wall. He arrived at the display of dinosaur bones, his best bet of it being a T-Rex. Though it was missing a couple of its bones, Kowalsky figured he’d have to find them and put them back on. How he would do that was a question for later.

Below the display he could see the blood smeared floor, as if someone had been dragged, against their will it seemed, by the pattern. 

A piece of paper caught the corner of his eye as odd. It was lying on the floor pitifully, the front page facing upwards. He walked over and picked it up carefully, as it seemed the paper had consumed some of the blood from the floor.

It was labelled “ Modern Art Night: Paint It With Blood”. So it seemed like it had really been a game of sorts, and below the title were the ten rules laid out for the contestants. The rules would have been fine if number one hadn’t been “ The last man alive wins .” So it really had been a game. A game of life and death, and they were getting rewarded for it. 

“The fuck happened here?” Kowalsky mumbled.

Where was he supposed to start? The place was massive from what he could tell. He could start out small, he decided. Going into the first exhibition, which definitely caught his attention with the striking red furniture hanging from the ceiling. 

He stared, dumbfounded. This was art? Good thing he wasn’t here to judge but to clean. He got the old IPod and earphones out and pressed the start button, not recognizing the first song, but it was catchy and upbeat nonetheless, so it would suffice for now.

-----

Elena had gotten quite far from her expectations. She didn’t remember herself being a fast walker, although it may have just been the nervousness making her move faster.

The app displaying the location of her phone showed it hadn't moved in almost forty minutes. She wondered why her dad was cleaning at a museum, didn’t those places have their own janitors? Maybe they’re looking for a new one and just had her dad work for them for a bit. But then, why wouldn’t he tell her?
Questions and suspicion circled in her mind, trying to reassure her, but the doubt in the back of her mind kept her going. This was not normal.

She had a pretty easy route mapped out, but one of the roads was blocked for road work so she had to ditch her original plan which included her staying away as much as possible from the outer layer of the city and instead clinging to the suburbs. So now instead, she walked on the outskirts of town. It was two to three story apartment buildings and small closed stores, plus an open bar or two. She was glad the clothing she picked out featured a dark hoodie, making her disappear into the background more. She was just passing through, she didn’t want to be noticed and asked where her parents were and why she was alone. She walked faster, using her father’s phone to guide her. It was a pretty straightforward route. She wouldn’t have to turn a lot, just mainly keep on the mainroad and- wait why did the screen fade to dark? Elena paused in her step and tried to get the phone back to life by clicking on the worn button on the side of it. Nothing happened however. Had her dad’s very old phone just died on her? At this moment? Well, frick. She hadn’t anticipated this. At least with the phone in her hand she felt oddly safe, but without it, she looked up and glanced at her surroundings. She didn’t recognize any buildings, nor did she think she would be able to recall the way back with how dark everything was. The sidewalk was littered with trash, and many of the windows were either broken or had been covered up with furniture. Some had that ugly curtain with that cigarette smoke ridden color. 

This was not good, this was not the plan at all. Curse her dad’s old phone battery.

She was so close, but she had to swallow the truth. This was not going to work, she had to get back home before her dad would demand an AMBER alert. But, how?

She stood on the side of the sidewalk, thinking. She couldn’t call on her dad for obvious reasons, she’d get in trouble with her dad if he found her at the police station.
“Taxi?” she muttered to herself, immediately dismissing her suggestion as she had no money and didn’t know where to find any. Could Louise help her and not say anything to Kowalsky? Maybe Elena could just lie for a second time this evening. Yeah, she could do that. 

Thankfully, her dad got her to memorize Louise's number in case something happened, the problem was getting her hands on a phone. She could go back to the bars, as they seemed to have people in them, but heard another alternative as she heard adult voices near her, just around the corner of a building, a metal fence leading to the alleyway between two buildings. 

It seemed sketchy, but it couldn’t hurt to at least ask, she figured.

She turned her head around the corner, found her sweet smile and asked. “Excuse me, do you know whe-” she stopped mid-word. It seemed like she had interrupted something she shouldn't have witnessed. One man had another man pinned to the brick wall, holding the man by the collar of his shirt, and another guy was simply watching. They all paused, surprised but not shocked, and looked at Elena, almost like they were waiting for her to continue. “What?” The man restraining the other one asked, urging her to continue. 

She stuttered trying to regain her voice. “Do you know where I can find a phone?” She asked, her voice shaking. 

“There’s a convenience store around the corner, should still be open,”

“Ah, okay great. Thank you,” she politely excused herself. While she was startled, she had not forgotten her manners. She turned and did her best to try and hide the nervousness in her steps as she hurried away from whatever that interaction was. The men didn't move from their spot and Elena was able to spot the convenience store around the corner that the man had mentioned. It was still open, but like her surroundings, it looked worn down, with its windows being covered with old and new posters. 

She crossed the quiet streets and pushed the door open, putting in her arm strength as the door wouldn't open at first push.

There was a clerk at the check out, looking bored out of his mind. His head resting on his hand as he was looking down on something she couldn’t see, not even paying attention to the fact someone had walked in. 

“Hi, excuse me,” she called out, trying to get the clerk’s attention, which halfely succeeded as the employee moved his head very slightly and looked at her with a quizzed brow.

Elena put on her best set of sad puppy eyes as she walked up closer. “Do you have a phone I could use? I need to call my dad,” she asked. “I’m lost.”

The clerk barely seemed concerned and more so bothered by Elena interrupting whatever he was doing. “No, we don’t.”

“Oh… Do you know where I could get one? She added, though she doubted the man didn’t have his own phone with him. 

“Are you gonna buy somethin’ ?” he asked instead, ignoring Elena’s question.
“Uh, no. I don’t have money- ”
“Then you’re gonna need to leave. We can’t house homeless people,”

Elena’s mouth dropped at that assumption, and her eyes almost popped out of her skull. She didn’t remember her clothes looked that rough. 

She tried to reply but it came out barely as a mumble, and she turned and walked out the doors, back onto the cold and dark streets of the outskirts of the city, holding back her tears. 

It was okay, she tried to reassure herself. She could just walk back home, probably. She could guess her way back, knowing where she needed to turn. Yup that was totally something she could do. 

She wiped her eye that was tearing up and pulled the hood over her head for more warmth as the cold was starting to hit the ends of her ears, and started the trek homewards, or at least the way she remembered. 

While walking she tried to push past her surroundings, but was stopped as a man and a woman came tumbling out of one of the more polished apartment buildings. The girl held the door open and the guy had thrown himself over the brick half wall of the entrance. For a split second before his head disappeared, Elena thought he looked familiar, don’t know from where though.

“Told ya’ you couldn’t down that entire bottle,” the girl gloated, a satisfactory smirk across her lips.

The man only responded in a defeated grumble. “You didn’t have to shove me all the way down here,” he replied, his words inches away from being said with a lisp. 

“Well you’re not throwing up in my toilet, Adam. I just cleaned it.” She looked for a reply from her presumed friend but got nothing but a moan of discomfort. 

The girl chuckled and jokingly patted his back before instinctively turned her head to Elena, who had slowly and quietly made her way up to them. 

Elena met the nut brown gaze of the other girl unwillingly. She felt her face shift in anticipation, but the girl just smiled softly, almost mockingly. “Isn’t it a little late to be selling girl scout cookies?” she teased. 

Elena looked herself up and down, not seeing the girl scout implication anywhere. “I’m not a girl scout,” she stated.

“I know that,” the girl scoffed. “What are you doing out here so late? Where’s your mom?”

“I, uhm…” to be completely honest, she didn’t want to answer any of those questions. “I got lost,” she explained shortly. 

The girl’s expression changed from amused to sympathy in a split second, and she quickly put a hand on her chest. “Oh you poor baby!” she exclaimed dramatically like she was acting, getting her buddy to look at her with an arched brow.

“Do you live far away?” she asked.
“Not far far , but a good… thirty minute walk?” it was her best guess as she didn’t have a clock with her anymore.
The unnamed girl’s eyebrows shot up. “Thirty min- No. No, can’t do that. Okay listen, this is what we’re doing,” she walked down the five steps and onto the pavement, revealing her surprisingly nice soft green dress pants with flared frills at her ankles. “I can’t drive right now because I’m…” she circled her hand around as if she was encouraging herself to speak, trying to find the word. “Adam?”

“Drunk.”

“Thank you. I’m drunk right now,” she explained. Elena did notice she had a red blush across her freckled face that wasn’t going away. “But! I know someone who's not, so I’m gonna call him, and we can drive you home. Until then, you can stay with me and my friends. How about that?” she offered. 

Elena was a child, yes, but not uneducated. She knew about stranger danger, especially since she was young. But, the girl seemed nice and genuine from what she could tell. She was going to ask if she could just borrow a phone to call Louise, but figured it would maybe be beneficial if someone her dad didn’t know drove her home. No one could snitch on her. Also the girl was a tad bit intimidating, though she couldn’t place why.

“Uh, okay.” She accepted the offer and tried to put on her best smile, though she was still a bit nervous. 

“Great!” the girl clapped her hands. “What’s your name then?”

The next words out of her mouth was the second lie of the evening. Unsure why that word was the first to come to mind out of all the other names she knew. “Helen.” She didn’t feel comfortable saying her real name, she was still a stranger.

The girl thankfully didn’t have a lie detector with her and bought it with a smile. “Nice to meet you Helen, my name’s Amber.”

-----

Barbie Girl by Aqua had probably played five times by now, either Helen really loved that song, or there was something wrong with the decade old IPod. 

Kowalsky had gotten both the red and yellow room completely blood free, finding someone hiding in the bed of the yellow room. She probably tried to hide.

“Sorry your deathbed confessions went unheard,” he spoke as he picked her up and brought her back.

He was mopping the floor of the music cassette room, stopping a few times to eye the corpse that was up against the glass window, blocking off another room that was just one big scene, complete with instruments.

As he mopped closer to the hallway connecting two exhibitions, he spotted a fallen piece and quickly just went over to straighten it up and put the very artistic object back in place.

“There we… go…” he spoke, his voice trailing as he spotted another room connected to the hallway. A room full of horrors and his worst nightmares. 

A room displayed carpets in shades of greys and whites, blood covered and sprayed all over.

He exhaled a breath he was holding, full of despair. Why… Why was this in an art museum? The artist that made up this exhibit is going to be called Dona-dead-lo when he finds them, he swears.

God, he would never get home at this rate.

-----

“I promise you Helen, the boys are really nice.” Amber promised, looking back at Adam seeing if he agreed, although the guy didn’t seem to hear her, causing his no-reply to make Amber pout.

Elena got a good look at the man’s face, but his familiarity still didn’t make sense to her, and it wasn’t like he just had one of those faces.

Adam’s nausea had eventually faded and the now three people made their way up the building's stairs. Elena would have to admit that she was worn out. Somehow walking up two flights of stairs was harder than her whole journey that was cut short.

“So, what were you doing out here, Helen? Not really a good time for a long walk,” Amber asked as they rounded another corner of the stairs..  

Elena tried to think of a reply, but only mumbles and cut off sentences came out of her mouth. The taller blonde looked down at the kid, an amused glint in her eyes. “I won’t snitch on you to your parents if that’ll make you feel better. Trust me, I know about getting in trouble,”

“I was-... I was trying to find my dad,”

“Is… Is he like, gone?” Amber asked.

“No? He’s just at work.”

“Oh… this late?”

The younger girl nodded. “He kinda works in different places. I was… just going to see what he was doing,” 

“Then how did you get lost?”

Elena pulled the dead phone out of the pocket in her back and showcased the lack of charge on it. Amber nodded, she got the message.

“Amber why the fuck is your apartment at the fucking top?!” Adam called out from behind them, hands clutching the railing for dear life. Amber only responded with a villainous chuckle.

They reached the top floor, there being only a single door available, with the name Amber O. written above the doorbell.

“Wait,” Amber stopped Adam and Elena from opening the door with her arm, not that either of them were attempting to. Elena looked at Adam for guidance and the guy shrugged as if to say “Just go along with it.”

Amber opened the door gently with her hand, and then proceeded to kick it open with her heels and then yelled. “Alright bitches! Mind your fucking language we got a fucking kid with us!”

Four heads turned from the living room, all looking confused at the sudden burst from Amber, but quickly put bottles and glasses away, as well as shoving things under the couch with their feet. 

At first, Elena was uncomfortable with everyone now looking at them, but her worry quickly got subdued by amazement as she saw the inside of Amber’s apartment. It was big, almost bigger than where her and her dad live. The kitchen area was raised above the living room, as well as another room Elena couldn't see from here as it was hidden away in layers of plants. Speaking of those, they were everywhere. On shelves, the floor, walls and even ceilings. 

There was almost no speck of black on the inside as well. Amber’s furniture was either white or a pretty color, and expensive looking as well from what she could tell.

Adam walked past them and sat down with the four other guys, while Amber proceeded to walk over and grab a small but pretty couch chair, tossing the decorative pillow away before dragging it over by the couch, patting the seat to signal to Elena to sit down. 

The girl swallowed nervously before closing the door behind her, slipping off her shoes, and walked over, and sat down in the soft chair, her bag now on the floor next to her. 

“Watch this lil’ gal for a moment, will ya’ guys? Gotta make a call to The Big Man ,” Amber instructed the guys while fishing her phone up from the spacey pockets of her pants. 

While the guys, excluding Adam, were staring confusedly at the younger girl, Elena was looking up at Amber to avoid their stares. The older girl took notice, flashed her a reassuring smile before patting her head like a pet before walking away, raising the phone to her ear, eventually greeting the person. “Ciao papà!” 

As Amber walked out of view, Elena reluctantly turned her head to the guys staring at her, although it was less intense as before. 

One of them eventually piped up with an awkward smile. “Want a beer?”

Elena didn’t reply but slightly turned her head and squinted her eyes at him. Would this guy actually give her alcohol?

“Dude she’s like ten,” Adam spoke up and turned his head to wherever Amber had disappeared to. “Amber!”

The girl poked her head around the corner after a moment and an angry expression, mouthing a “what?” to him.

“Got any kid-friendly drinks?” he asked.

“Fuck if I know, juice is in the fridge or something,” she replied before returning to her call. “What do you mean you’re out of town!?”

A little while later while one of the boys went up to pour some multi juice in a glass for Elena, she heard Amber loudly yell out: “Oh so you don’t love me, is that it?!”

Elena looked around to see if anyone else shared the same tense expression as her, but none of them seemed fazed. It appeared this was a common occurrence to them.

“So like, do we have any toys for her?” The boy next to her asked, earning him a wave of eyerolls, and a small chuckle from Elena herself. She had ditched most of her toys a while back, though neither she nor her dad could fully get rid of all her plushies, even when her dad commented on their ugliness. 

“What do you do if not play with toys?” the guy asked instead, his speech a bit slurred.

“I read?”

His eyes lit up, amused, and turned his body to open up more conversation. “Yooo, you’re like, a little nerd!” he lightly teased, finding his conclusion to be an adorable observation. “What do you read?”

Elena simply shrugged, how is she a nerd if the guy doesn’t know what she’s reading about? Seemed a bit small minded to say that. “I read stuff about space and stars, sometimes sharks and sea creatures too,” she explained, the rest of the boys also opening up their body language for conversation.

“So you like space?” one asked.

“Do you wanna be an astronaut as well?” another one chimed in.

“I’d love to go to space one day,” she answered, however her dreams of going to space seemed further and further away these days. Heck, even normal school was a dream of hers. 

“So, if you like, like space, do you then also know stuff… about space?” Another one asked, his words all over the place and barely above a mumble, clearly drunker than the rest.

“... Yes.”

“Is it true the universe is still expanding?!” the one next to her asked, almost pleading for an answer. Elena recoiled at the volume before thinking of a simple enough answer.

“It is,” she informed, causing the guy to open his mouth in shock and another one to exhale a “wow”. She held herself back from giggling at all of their facial responses. She knew drunk people could get a bit, dumb, but this was entertaining. She found herself at least relaxing a bit around them, as they now seemed fascinated by all the new information.

“Actually, while expanding, the universe also pulls stars and planets with it, which means that the stars we can see have been much closer than they are now,” she informed, not really intending to start yapping out space, but the guys didn't seem to mind as they nodded along, seemingly listened, and a few had a couple of surprised faces.

She managed to briefly go through a couple of more topics before Amber was done with her phone call, like black holes, why Pluto isn’t a planet, and to the best of her abilities, she tried to simply explain light years to them. That task would probably be doable if they were sober.

“Okay, love ya’ dad!” Amber cheerfully bid her goodbyes and hung up, returning to the couch and stood behind it, arms resting on the back of it. They all looked up at her expectedly. “What? … Oh right, he said he would be here in like, two hours-”

“ Two hours?” Elena accidently interrupted, the words just flying out of her mouth. Thankfully Amber didn't seem to mind. 

“Yeah, had to turn on the waterworks to even get him on his way,” 

“Oh yeah, we heard that.” Adam informed. “Did you tell him about us?” he asked, pointing at all the guys sitting in her living room. Amber nodded, causing Adam to raise an eyebrow. “I thought you were grounded?”

That was weird, Elena hadn’t taken Amber for a kid, she was drunk after all so she must at least be 21, right? Then how come she’s grounded? Only kids get grounded. 

“Oh please, I never stay grounded,” Amber gloated. “I got it cut down to five days.”

“That's lucky considering…” Adam eyed Elena before looking back at Amber. “ The party accident. You’re lucky you didn’t get… Caught in the glitter explosion ,” she couldn't tell if Adam was just drunk based on how he was talking, or if he was trying to hide something. “Didn’t mean for the… glitter canons to be so effective, whoops.”

“Eh,” Amber brushed him off. “Didn’t even get to try them out properly.” 

“Your dad seemed to have gotten pretty mad about it,”

“Yeah but, he loves me, and I am an expert in getting around punishment.” Amber gloated once more.

“More like your dad’s soft on you-” Adam got interrupted by Amber’s hand smacking him hard on the head.

“Aren't you an adult?” Elena spoke up, trying to settle her confusion, accidentally saving Adam from another hand of fury from Amber.. “How come you can get grounded?”

The guys all looked at Amber with smirks, waiting for her explanation. The strawberry blonde forced a smile across her lips, trying to appear at ease, but Elena could see the cracks. She sees those smiles a lot.

“Well, Helen, you see… you’re too young to know that,” Amber declared.

Oh, she should’ve seen that one coming. She was wondering when she would get hit with those words again. Elena internally rolled her eyes. “Okay,” she said before drinking from her pink glass containing the juice.

“Amber,” the boy next to Elena spoke up, turning to look at the hostess. “Did you know the sun is a star?”

Elena nearly choked on her drink as she snorted, quickly wiping her mouth afterwards just in case. Amber sighed, and closed her eyes in defeat.

“Yes, Bennet, I know.” She muttered. “And so do you.”

“I do?” he sounded almost shocked. “Oh well yeah, Helen just told us,” he gestured towards Elena. “She likes space, and she’s like…” he squinted his eyes at her and deliberated within himself for an estimate. “Ten or something.”

Close, Elena thought.

“She’s like a little Einstein,” Bennet commented. Before Elena could register what was happening, he raised his arm and placed his hand on her head and roughly ruffled her hair, immediately redrawing his hand as her hair suddenly loosened. 

Elena yelped as she recoiled, touching her hair afterwards to subtly set it straight again. The rest of them were stunned and they stared in shock and with wide eyes, Bennet eyeing his own hand. 

For a moment, the only sound Elena could hear was her own rapid heart beat, as none of them spoke. Eventually, Amber let out a very late offended gasp and turned to Bennet.

“Bennet!” She yelled. “Don't you ever!”

She bent down. “Ever!”

And leaned closer. “ Ever !”

Until she was mere centimeters away from his face. “Touch a lady's hair-” and forcefully grabbed his collar. “ Unpermitted !” she snarled. “Say you’re fucking sorry, Bennet!”

“I’m super fucking sorry!” Bennet quickly apologized, his voice quacking with worry as Amber was still close to him, looking at him with fury in her eyes with her dilated pupils.

Elena hadn’t heard what any of them said as she was trying to calm herself down from the scare. She looked back up at them, hoping the color had returned to her face, and saw their attention had moved over to her, as if they were waiting for her to talk.

“I-I’m okay,” she tried to reassure them, not hearing Bennet’s apology.

“I can slap him for you if it could make you feel better?” Amber offered, demonstrating by lifting her hand like she was getting ready to smack the ever loving life out of Bennet.

“No, I’m good.” Elena politely declined. 

Not many people put their hands on her head, so this wasn’t a scenario she was used to. Most people just gently patted her head like her dad, and strangers usually did the acceptable thing of not putting their hands on her.

The wig also wasn’t the absolute best. It was the cheapest but nicest they could get. She missed her actual hair however, though being blonde was proven to be a fun change at least, and she could experiment with getting darker tips. Her dad wasn’t a fan of it at the time, but the color had mostly fainted and he rarely commented on it.

“Sorry ‘bout him, Helen. He’s a dumbass,” Amber switched from threatening her guest to a sweet smile and gleaming eyes to Elena. She wondered how the older girl was able to switch between moods so effectively, it was disturbing, but at least she was nice to her?

“Are you hungry? Do you want something to eat?” she asked.

“No thanks, I had a good dinne-”

“Adam! Get this girl a cookie!”

Adam didn’t seem to want to argue with the girl’s demand and stood up, got a cookie from Amber’s cabinet, and sat down again, almost taking his drink back in his hand but received a scornful look from Amber and didn’t.  “I hate you.” he mumbled.

Amber chuckled a win before turning back to Elena who was now holding her newly given cookie and glass of her juice half empty. 

“So, Helen… space ey?” Amber nudged Elena to continue, earning herself an excited smile from the younger girl. 

She then proceeded to lightly ramble about space and the universe, while making sure the drunk crowd kept up. Sometimes she just let them believe what they did because it would be harder to explain how it actually was. Their questions were also more entertaining than anything really.

“But like, how can Saturn’s rings be there? There’s not that much space in between planets, right?,” 

“Wait oh my god, we’re gonna collide with another galaxy? We’re fucking dead-”

“Language Jones!” Amber quickly scolded him.

Time passed but she found herself relaxing a bit. These people were strange at the least, but good company. They reclaimed their drinks after Amber was unable to keep it from them, raising it and going “Cheers.” 

Amber offered Elena her glass and the younger girl accepted and their glasses clinked and they exchanged small smiles before drinking. 

As Elena put her drink down and glanced down at the cookie in her hand, she was reminded of her dad. How was he doing? Hopefully he hadn’t returned home and was now worrying for her.

-----

Kowalsky had apparently reached the part of Helen’s playlist where she was in a NSYNC phase because nothing else would play for at least forty minutes.

After what felt like forever, he could finally close the door to the nightmare room and never look at those carpets again.

The hallways and close rooms to the place he came in from were also cleaned and objects had been put back in their places. 

He had found the VIP room, although he hadn’t been the first one. Seemed like someone got there before him and made a horrible mess. The whole evening seemed to mainly be a gambling game for the rich. He found a list of different bets. Which one of the players would win, which one would die first, so on and so forth. He remembered the rule list mentioned a prize, and he wondered how much the game prize money was compared to these people’s bets.

It left a disgusting taste in his mouth. Rich people sitting back and watching people desperate for money fight for their lives just for entertainment. Were the players even aware of the outcome or were the decisions sprung on them? He wondered if this was something Jim would partake in, though for some reason the idea didn’t fit the man. He seems like he’d much rather enjoy being in the game rather than spectate.

He had realised he was getting tired, both physically and because of the constant boyband music blasting in his ears. He put his mop and bucket to the side as he went out to his truck and got the lunch Elena had subtly forced him to make and bring along, thanking her in his head for doing so. He sat down at a table in the VIP lounge and wiped it free of blood and ate the snacks he packed, removing the earphones, finally letting his ears breathe. He’d make his own playlist for next time.

His lunch was gone within minutes and it was back to work, sadly. His feet had just gotten used to being off the ground.

The boy band era had apparently ended for Helen as Dolly parton’s 9 to 5 started playing, Kowalsky recognizing the song within milliseconds, and found himself humming along inside his head.

Nine to five, what a way to make a livin’, barely getting by - oh my god.

Kowalsky had made his way over to an art exhibition he hadn’t seen yet, and was greeted by yet another questionable art room. 

It was dark with very few dim lights, there were three basketball hoops with a court dedicated to it. That place would probably do great to entertain the kids that were brought along.

The thing stopping him in his tracks however was the blood smeared around on the floor as if something had been dragged everywhere. He would start theorizing on what, but he knew. He knew that pattern and he could hear it as well. He walked into a small glass maze that was probably the most eye-catching exhibition, following the blood trail, soon getting closer and closer to the monster that was making that horrible whirring noise.

Soon he came face to face with a pathetic automatic vacuum, smearing the different pools of blood all around the floor unknowingly, and creating an even bigger mess for Kowalsky.

He stopped the robot with his foot and angrily flipped it over, reminding him of a turtle on its back. He grabbed the axe from his belt and swiftly swung it down on the poor thing, creating a clean cut into its wires, again and again, until the robot was split in roughly two pieces, with a couple of bits falling off.

With his sabotage complete, he picked the pieces up and showed them down a trash bag that he then disposed of.

Returning to the room once more to properly clean it, his eyes landed on the basketball courts. For his own amusement, Kowalsky moved over, picked a ball up with his freshly gloved hands, and shot at the high post. Score .

Well, back to work with him. 

Thankfully for him, he spiked up with energy as he recognized the first three beats of the next song, due to his wife having multiple and very long phases of only listening to Britney Spears. 

-----

Elena had no idea how long she’d been at the apartment, but by her estimate, two hours had long since passed, and she was waiting anxiously for a sudden knock at the door, but it seemed to take a while. Not that she was completely bored, as the drunk crowd got increasingly drunk and stupid. One guy had even passed out on the couch, though none of his friends gave him any attention.

Elena was on her fifth cookie or around there. Forty minutes into the evening, the adults struggled to talk to Elena about anything other than space, not because the girl couldn't talk about anything else, they all just acted like they've never spoken to a kid before. Amber turned the television on and found a movie she recommended. Was it a kids film? 

Amber’s answer was a drawn out “yes” but no one in the room believed her, even further when she added a drunk giggle at the end. Elena could testify when the credits came rolling around that it was at least entertaining, though she only caught maybe half of the jokes, the rest she’d understand when she got older of course.

Afterwards Amber found a pack of cards and they settled on fish, as Elena didn’t play many other card games.
“Helen, can I have your sixes?”
“Go fish Bennet,” she answered. This was the third time in a row he’d asked her, she wondered when the boy would give up. “Bennet, your fives,” she demanded before he put the new card into his hand. He looked at her like she just told him how many fingers he had behind his back. 

He probably forgot he asked for fives before he started on the sixes, Elena just remembered as he held the last fiver she needed. He handed her the card, but before she could put them down on the table in a neat pile, the expected knock came at the door. 

Everyone’s head perked up and glanced at the door where the hard knock emitted from. Elena felt that same nervousness from before creep back up in her body, reminding her that she wasn’t here to hang out or have fun. They just kept her entertained until their ride got here. Hopefully Amber’s dad was willing to just drive her home and not demand to speak to her dad.

Amber got up on her feet, an excited but drunk smile on her face as she moved to the door with glee. She opened it, the door shielding the man’s appearance from where Elena was staring. 

“ Papa !” Amber greeted with a foreign accent and wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace.

Elena stood up and reached for her bag, only to see that Bennet was already holding it up for her to grab, which Elena gratefully took from him with a smile.

“Thanks for the game guys,” she spoke as she waved her goodbyes, getting a wave back from Bennet and the others who then resumed drawing on the guy who passed out’s face.

“Bye Helen!” 

“Have a great evening,”

“Remember those body weak points!”

Elena walked over to where Amber and her dad stood in the doorway, most of her worries gone for now as everyone seemed calm and ready for bed… which she should’ve been in hours ago. She’s got a lot of sleep to catch up on.

“You can’t just pick kids up from the street Amber, it’s dangerous,”

“I’m just being a good samaritan, dad.”

That voice… was so familiar. So had everyone’s today’s seemingly, including Adam’s face. The father’s voice was deep and tired, carrying a hint of the same accent Amber pulled out every now and then. She’s heard it before, she’s met this guy before. There wasn’t time to ponder as Amber pulled Elena into view and introduced her to her dad. “This is Helen.”

Elena and the father’s eyes locked, her eyes widening and her heart dropping to the pit of her stomach as she recognized the tall and broad man standing in front of them. 

It was her dad’s freaking boss. Amber was his daughter? Oh no.

Amber was oblivious to Elena’s face of despair, however her dad was not. He, like Elena, opened his tired hooded eyes in shock, the color draining from his face. Both of them were stunned, neither doing a greeting of any kind. Finally Amber noticed the odd air between them. She snapped her fingers right in front of her dad’s face for his attention, gaining it by the first snap.

“I- wha-... Mm,” Jim struggled to formulate a sentence in frustration and eventually decided to just stop and take a breath. “Get out here, both of you,” he ordered.

Elena quickly moved to put her shoes back on, trying to hide the still panicked expression and hoped she was the only one who could hear her increasing heart rate.

Amber waved goodbye to her friends enthusiastically before closing the door to her apartment, leaving her, Elena and her dad in the hallway of the complex. Elena stood still, eyes at the ground in front of her, and twiddling her fingers in anticipation.

Jim stood, hand rubbing the side of his face in disbelief. He’d take a quick glance at Elena as if making sure it was her and he wasn’t imageneing it. 

“I’m going to have to deal with such a... motherfucker…” Jim mumbled, some of his words completely incoherent.

Amber attempted to create eye contact with her distressed dad. “So, could we drive Helen home?”

That seemed to snap Jim from whatever thoughts he was having as he looked back at her, all the shock gone from his face and replaced with a mix of dread and anger.

“Fucking- First of all,” He started and pointed at Elena. “ She is not named Helen, she’s called Elena,” he leaned closer to his daughter with intense eyes, though his daughter acted like this was an everyday thing. “Elena Kowalsky , for that matter.” he spoke, the shock he had transferred over to the girl. Her cheery and drunken smile slowly faded, and the light in her eyes dwindled as her face shifted from happy to disturbed.

“Like, Kowalsky Kowalsky?” she asked, receiving a half hearted nod from her dad as an answer. “He has a kid? Oh my god,” her gaze shifted down to Elena. “I’m so sorry Hel- Elena,”

Elena got a puzzled look on her face. Why was she apologizing?

Jim sighed. “I swear, if Kowalsky decides to be difficult… just kill me,” he instructed his daughter, who by her line of sight, was not paying attention to him and still had her focus on Elena, a million thoughts coursing through her mind. “Okay, get in the car so we can get her home, before Kowalsky calls me for a change,” 

“Uhh,” Amber finally mumbled. She seemed hesitant to speak, something clearly on her mind but unsure if she should say. 

Jim sighed again, this time probably just exhausted at his daughter's drunken state. “Amber, how drunk are you right now?” He asked. 

“Pretty drunk, but I’m not stupid!” Amber declared. “I said I wouldn't rat her out to her parents, but you’re not her parent so you’re fine,”

Elena then caught on to what Amber had been meaning to say and she felt the remaining color drain from her face. Oh no.

“What do you mean?” Jim asked her to continue. 

“Elena came out here because she was looking for her dad,” she explained, stunning her dad. “He went to work and she followed.”

“Followed?!” Jim echoed louder than he wanted and eyed the younger girl, confused on both how she did it and why. 

“I uhh…” Elena uttered as she fished the phone out from her bag and showcased it. “I tracked him with my phone,” she briefly explained, her voice shaking a little with all the intense intention on her. 

Jim’s eyes were glued to the phone in astonishment for a couple of seconds, before glancing at Amber silently asking her if this was real. His daughter nodded.

“That’s it, I’m calling the bastard,” Jim decided and grabbed a phone from his pocket, pausing as Elena carefully raised her hand as if asking him if she may interrupt him. 

“ This is my dad’s phone,” she gestured to the dead electronic.

Jim seemed like he wanted to yell, but he forced a strained calming smile upon his lips, not wanting to lose it in front of the child. “That’s… Great, amazing even.” he grumbled as he rubbed the middle of his eyebrows in frustration and sighed deeply, Elena found it sounded similar to her dad’s signature sighs. Maybe it was a universal thing dads do.

“Just... What did you think was going to happen, Elena?” he asked, clearly frustrated but held himself back from completely yelling at her.

“I… I don’t know…” she answered honestly, her tone switching into a mumbled whisper as her eyes stayed glued to the floor. “I’m sorry,”

“Your dad is gonna have a fucking cow, now.” 

“Well,” Amber butted in. “We don't have to tell him, right?”

Jim looked at his daughter like she was suggesting something completely insane. “Yes we do. This is not okay, I-” Jim explained and abruptly stopped himself, glanced at Elena before back at his daughter. “I need to have a talk with your dad when he gets home, because this-” he gestured to Elena with his hands. “-Cannot happen again.”

Elena had no words left and just nodded. 

“Get in the car girls,”

-----

Well, at least one good thing came from the evening.

The IPod had gotten stuck at Madonna’s Material girl and Kowalsky didn’t know how to fix it so carried on, and in the meantime he was pretty sure he memorized all the lyrics to the song.

He found the dead body of a guy pinned beneath a dinosaur’s bones and carried him back to the entrance. 

“The chances of being killed by dinosaurs nowadays are low, but never zero,” he mused to himself. He carried the body through a shortcut, going through the now clean sculpture room, quickly passing the nightmare room, and going through the cassette exhibit, when something caught his attention.

Oh right, the scene . He’d yet to clean it, but he hadn’t found an obvious route backstage yet.

He bagged the unfortunate person and put them aside and returned to the area. There was a door to the left of the stage, but it was locked and not budging, and Kowalsky wasn’t cutting a door down for this.

He was going to walk past the carpet exhibit to see if there were any doors on the other side, but out of the corner of his eye he caught the sight of a doorframe inside of the room.

He walked in, sternly eyeing the now clean carpets, and pushed the door open, revealing a small office set up, and a break room right next to it. There were shelves as if this was also the storage room. Seemed like they tried to cut down the amount of separate rooms they needed.

He rounded the corner and finally saw the scene from the other side. He sighed a breath of relief. Thankful this room wasn’t hidden, or that he needed a key or had to crawl through vents. Just an easy walk-

His thoughts were interrupted as he got on the stage, ready to grab hold of the body up against the glass, when suddenly all the lights went out. 

Kowalsky felt his flight or fight kick in, settling for a mix of fight and freeze as he froze but quickly put a hand on his axe. What was going on? Had he been caught? Oh fuck…

A loud noise sounded from the speakers in the room, like a singer at a concert.

“ A’ one two three four -!”

All the lights turned on again and the music continued. It was just a part of the exhibition. Kowalsky’s heart started beating again after being still for a couple of seconds and he put a hand on his chest to suppress the shock.

“Motherfuckers…” he mumbled, though his voice was barely audible from the loud garage music. He wasn’t old enough for a heart attack just yet.

-----

They had only been driving for a few minutes, but Elena felt ready to cry. Everything had just gone so wrong. She was gonna get in trouble with her dad, and her dad was probably gonna get in trouble with Jim. She didn’t think her dad could handle much more stress.

She was sitting in the back behind the passenger seat where Amber was currently looking out the window. The woman had tried to turn the radio on three times, each time getting her hand slapped away by Jim, though it was not with much strength.

“Come on dad, just one song-”
“Amber, I am not listening to the music from your trashy garage band,” Jim snapped.

“Oh my fucking god dad, OSTATARAK is not that bad,” Amber protested but she wasn’t getting a response from her dad as his gaze was fixed on the road in front of him. 

Elena found him looking at her through the rearview mirror out of the corner of her eyes. She didn’t have the curiosity nor courage to look back up at him. Multiple scenarios were running through her mind, prepairing her for when she’d come home.

Jim stopped at a red light, where two or three cars were either driving or stalling. He tapped the wheel impatiently and sighed. 

“Is my dad in trouble?” she asked, her voice quivering. Jim looked back in the mirror and locked eyes with the young girl. She had trouble reading his expression but he was at the very least calmer.

“It's nothing you need to worry about, Elena. I’ll just have a quick chat with your father,” he turned and looked at her, a comforting smile across his lips. “He’ll be fine,” he promised.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized, her words almost a mumble. “Please don’t fire my dad,”

Elena’s worry was pushed aside to make space for her confusion as Jim chuckled, seemingly amused. 

“Oh honey, I could have fired him for worse,” he mused. “Fortunately enough for him, he’s a damn good cleaner. He’s not getting fired anytime soon,” Elena spotted Amber rolling her eyes in annoyance in the mirror.

“So, he really just cleans?” she asked in disbelief. Jim nodded but she had even more questions. “How much do you pay him?”
“Not enough apparently, according to him,” he answered.

The lights switched to yellow, and then green, and Jim drove through. The conversation was not over however.

“So young lady, what made you decide to venture out in the night to track down your dad?” he asked.

Elena was leaning up against the locked door and looked out the window, trying to find the words that had been swimming around in her mind. “I’m… I’m just a bit worried about him,” she muttered.

Jim and Amber both raised their eyebrows, but Jim was the one to speak. “Worried? He seems to be doing just fine,”

“He’s not sleeping a lot,” she confessed. “He’s stressed as well. His hair used to be so much darker, now it's faded and greying. I also have to be the one to remind him to eat more,”

Jim made a sound as if he was surprised. “I’ll do you a favor Elena, I’ll bring it up to him.”

Elena jolted away from the door and looked pleadingly at Jim. “Please don't,”

“Nah nah, don’t worry about it, it’s fine. I’ll tell him to sleep some more,”

“Yeah cuz’ that worked so well last time,” Amber mumbled directly towards her dad, causing her dad to warningly slap the side of her thigh and give her a scolding expression.

Jim turned a corner and silence once again filled the air in the car for a few minutes. Jim was seemingly deep in his thoughts, and Amber once more tried to turn the radio on but her dad grabbed her hand and guided it away, clearly just tired of her continuous attempts.

“But Elena,” Jim started the conversation up again, putting his hand up to catch her attention. “You really don’t need to worry, your dad’s an adult, and he can very well take care of himself. I’ve witnessed him do so,” Amber glanced at her dad suspiciously as he rubbed his bearded cheek. “All you need to worry about is yourself and your schooling. I heard your math test went well,”

Elena remembered the test Jim helped her with a couple of months ago and smiled, remembering her perfect score. “It did,”

“Keep it up bud, good grades will get you places,”

Amber turned her head to look down at Elena. “Helen, can you do my taxes?” she asked. Her dad laughed, caught completely off guard.

“Amber, you don’t do taxes,” he gave a quick glance at Elena before looking back at his daughter. “ I do.”

Elena didn’t take notice of the taxes talk, but did take notice of Amber forgetting her actual name and calling her by her mother’s instead.

“Right, fuck, sorry. Your name isn’t Helen… that’s weird,” It was like Amber was reading Elena’s thoughts and apologized. She looked back at her and gave her a reassuring smile. “Good on you for not saying your name, Elena. Danger stranger- wait… you know what I meant,”

“I know, Amber. Thank you,” Elena smiled back at the girl. Amber reached out for her head and lightly padded her head, remembering what happened two hours earlier.

“Still can’t believe Kowalsky’s your dad ,” Amber spoke, speaking like the fact repulsed her. 

Elena decided to challenge her. “Why not?”

“Well, he’s just…” Amber trailed off, snapping her fingers as if she was trying to remember a word. “God I can’t lie, I hate your dad,”

“ Amber .” Jim warned her like she was a misbehaving child. 

Elena furrowed her brows and did her version of a glare. “Why? What did he do?”

“His jokes just… suck ,” she explained, though Elena found it to be a stupid reason. His jokes weren’t for everyone, but she didn’t know people could hate him for them. She could find herself chuckling at both the jokes and other people’s despair.

“I thought the raveyard joke was pretty funny,” Jim admitted, earning himself a furious scolding expression from Amber.

“ No .” she demanded, her warning doing the opposite as Jim chuckled. ”No.” she tried again.

They drove until Elena started to recognize the road to home. There was the funny yellow house, the small playground she hasn’t been to in years, and the house that has been set for sale again.

They were getting closer and Elena wondered how long it would be until her dad came home.

-----

Kowalsky was starting to get annoyed. It was not Madonna’s fault, nor the IPod, but the damn earphones with it’s wires that can easily get stuck or attach to things they shouldn't. He successfully put the stage equipment back in its place and only pulled the earphones out thrice.

He cursed at the pathetic white strings in polish by the third time they popped out. He would like to just play the music directly from the little box, but the specific model his wife owned had no speakers so that wasn’t plausible.

He walked out of the stage room for a final time and closed the door. He was about to walk past the small office setup when he noticed something interesting. A microphone's wires plugged into sockets. 

Curiosity got the best of him and he wanted to test something out.

He unplugged the wire from the microphone and put it into the IPod instead. He clicked the play button and jumped like a cat in surprise by the sudden volume erupting from everywhere and stumbled back, dropping the IPod on the table. 

Okay, that was way too many heart attacks for him today.

He turned the music down but it was still audible throughout all the speakers in the museum. He wondered for a moment how that actually worked. He wasn’t the best IT guy, he was more of a “Let’s try this” problem solver whenever IT problems occurred. He knows how to work radiators and light bulbs, but if a kid came to him with a computer problem he would point them in the direction of the IT office instead.

He ditched the earphones and stuffed them in one of his pockets before continuing. He felt like he was close to finishing the place up, and could wait to get home and rest for maybe two hours before he needed to get up again and take Elena to the children’s hospital in the morning.

He just hoped his daughter was sleeping peacefully and wasn’t being kept awake by the thoughts of returning, knowing how much she hated the mere mention of the place.

-----

Well, they had arrived. Jim parked in front, avoiding the driveway, leaving it empty all for Kowalsky when he would return home.

They got out and Elena found the spare key to the house and let the three of them in, turning on the lights, accidentally waking both Dexter and Bastard up from their collective slumber.

Jim’s eyebrows shot up at the sight of the walking black cloud with whiskers.

“Well, Whiskers here is new,” he commented as the cat padded closer to sniff the man’s shoes before turning and running away from him.

“His name is Bastard,” she informed, ready for the reaction of disbelief she’d been getting from people when she said the cat’s name, which Jim predictably gave her.

“.. Who named him?”

“My dad.”
“Of course he did,” he sounded defeated, almost like he should’ve known.

“Dad said he found him on the street,” Elena added.

“Did he now?” Jim sounded doubtful and Elena was unsure why. Dexter had padded up to her side and nudged her, welcoming her back. She gave the dog a few scratches behind his ear as a thank you before moving away to find her dad’s charger for the phone.

Jim closed the door and made sure to close the curtains to the room. He took off his shoes and hung his coat, signalling for Amber to do the same as she was still dressed in her heels. The girl had been too occupied by looking around the living room, her expression did not resemble someone who was impressed, not at all. She did not listen to her dad but Jim didn't seem to want to repeat himself. Elena thought Amber would’ve at least liked all the new plants her dad had gotten his hands on but even they got a dirty glance from the judge.

“How long until your dad gets home?” Jim asked. Elena glanced at the clock, uncertain. She never knew when he’d leave before and she was rarely awake when he came back. Jim got the message when she wasn’t responding. “Alright… how long has he been gone for then?”

“Uhh, three and a half?” she estimated.

“Okay that’s… something at least. Your dad’s a relatively fast cleaner,” Jim spoke, almost a mumble just for himself. He sat himself on the livingroom’s couch, groaning as if he hadn’t sat comfortably in a long time. 

“Is that why he hasn’t been fired yet?” Amber asked, pulling out a chair from their dining table, spinning it around and sitting down, arms resting on the back of it.

“Mainly,” her father answered. “But it’s also because he actually shows up,” he explained. Elena couldn’t imagine people being called on to do their work and then just not show up. Could they even do that? Wouldn’t they get in trouble with their bosses?

“Which is surprising considering the way he greets you over the phone,” Amber added with a smirk, which Jim just casually shrugged off. 

“He’s fond of me… probably,”

Elena chuckled at the memory of a piece of information she had before she sat down on the couch as well, Dexter following her and resting his head on her knees. “He does have you in his phone as Asshole boss ,”

“... He what?”

Okay maybe she shouldn’t have said that.

“You guys got any food?” Amber asked, heading towards their cabinets in the kitchen, almost stumbling in her heels and slamming into the wall. Jim exchanged a tired look with Elena before getting up after her. 

“Amber, the only thing you should do is drink water,” Jim instructed, stopping his daughter with his arm from entering a top cabinet, secretly just filled with their glasses and mugs. Amber pouted but didn’t fight her dad on it.

He opened the cabinet and grabbed the first glass he could reach and handed it to Amber. 

“How’d you know it was in there?” she asked while filling it up. 

“I’ve… been here before,” he signaled over to Elena as if Amber would know why, but she didn’t and she retained her confusion.

“Him and some of your friends drove me home another day,” Elena was the one to explain, causing Amber to let out a quick laugh.

“Damn dad, didn’t know money was getting so tight you needed to start babysitting,” she joked, though Jim was clearly not amused.

“Drink some water sweetie,” he almost pleaded before sitting down on the couch again.

Elena was glad Dexter hadn’t left her lap and was free to pet him, otherwise she’s pretty sure she’d be rubbing her hands in anticipation. At least with Dexter she could hide it as affection.

She could tell Jim was still quite angry for some reason, but he appeared to have calmed down, at least from what she could tell, either that or his face just displayed how tired he was. Elena glanced up at the clock, and could tell she should’ve been in bed and asleep almost 4 hours ago, yet here she was, with her dad’s boss alongside the man’s daughter, waiting for her dad to return. 

“Why’s there so much fucking tomato sauce?!” Amber asked in disbelief from the kitchen. Jim and Elena paid her little mind and instead exchanged a dismissive look between them.

“Hey Jim,” she spoke, looking up trying to meet his tired eyes.

“Yes Elena?”

“You’re not bad, right?” she asked, hesitantly. 

Jim’s tired expression shifted to a quick look of confusion but then immediately got replaced with a soft smile. “No, ‘course not. What makes you ask?”

She raised her shoulders in a shrug. “You’re just… kinda scary,” she admitted. 

Jim seemed to take that comment in stride and chuckled. “Trust me Elena, you’re not the only one who thinks that. I can be quite intimidating,”

“You’re just really tall,” she added. “And your accent reminds me of Italian gangsters, or something.”

Jim had himself a surprised laugh disguised as a cough at that connection, and Amber’s head poked out from the kitchen with a raised eyebrow.

“I certainly fit the criteria, don’t I?” he joked and nudged Elena a bit with his hand, managing at least to put a smile on her face as she agreed.

“You do. I’m glad you’re not bad,”

Jim was about to continue speaking when he got interrupted by his daughter putting her arms around him from behind and resting her head on his, letting her blonde hair fall over his face. Jim looked up at his daughter expectantly, waiting for her to start speaking.

“Dad, I'm bored,” Amber informed.

Jim looked back down at Elena. “You don’t happen to have a deck of cards, do you?”

-----

It had maybe taken him around a good 90 minutes before he was ready to officially be done for the evening. He stopped the music and locked up the doors from where he came, sent a message to the employer before driving off to his usual disposal place with the bodies. The pigs would eat like kings this evening.

It was definitely late when he got back, unsure of what the time was, but this time the job had also felt decently quick. He theorized the lack of company and added background music might have had a hand in it all.

Two things struck him as odd when he spotted his house however. First, the lights in the living room seemed to be on, and he was pretty sure he turned them off. The second thing was probably the most worrying factor, that of an unknown car being parked right in front of the house. Out of all the possibilities of who that could be, Kowalsky had a pretty good idea.

He parked his car inside the garage and closed the door after turning the engine off. He took a deep breath, preparing himself for another visit from the man himself.

What did the man even want from him? He wasn’t quite sure what he’d done to warrant this.

He put his nervous hand on the handle and turned it, pushing the door open to the living room. He did his best to act calm, even putting a tired but welcoming smile on his face.

Three heads turned from the couch and eyed him. He waved his hand nonchalantly at them.

“Hello-” he paused, seeing who the third uninvited person in his house was. “What is she doing here?” He asked Jim, pointing at Amber, who waved back at him with a grin.

Elena, Jim and Amber seemed to have been in the midst of… a card game? Cards in their hands and two piles on the table. He couldn't decipher what game precisely. 

“I’m sorry,” Elena quickly apologized with zero context.

Kowalsky tried to hide the worry in his eyes. “Sorry? What happened?”

Jim was the first to place his cards on the table, the daughters following suit not long after. 

“Amber, could you get Elena to bed please?” Jim asked, getting a compliant nod from his daughter before turning to Elena. “I’ll just have a quick chat with your father,” he promised before Amber nudged Elena with her and down the hall. Elena shot her dad another apologetic look before she was gone from the space.

Jim stood up to face Kowalsky, angry would be an understatement of a description of his expression, he looked furious . 

He raised his finger and opened his mouth as he was about to speak, but something caught his eyes, making him pause and instead ask. “Kowalsky is that a fucking sword?”

Kowalsky put a hand on the sword tied to his belt that he'd borrowed from the museum, and slightly moved it to hide behind him.

“Maybe.”

“Where the fuck did you get that?”

“I found it?”

Jim groaned and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “Any place where we can talk?” he asked. Kowalsky would’ve said the living room was just fine before the man pointed down to his daughter’s room, hinting at the fact he’d like it to be as sound proof as possible.

“Oh, uhh, yeah.” he muttered before returning from where he entered; the garage. Jim followed suit and closed the door after him. The man turned to the janitor, and it was as if the man had the ability to make sound disappear as everything became too quiet. No loud fridge, no pets meowing or moving about, just the two of them in the secluded garage.

“Kowalsky,” Jim started speaking. “Put the damn sword away,” he demanded. 

The janitor did what he was told and placed it on his work bench.

“You want the mop next-?”

“Cut the jokes Kowalsky, I’m pissed off!” he shouted, his accent coming in full force mixed with the raw tiredness Kowalsky could see on his face. He suddenly looked bigger than he was before.

Kowalsky unknowingly took a step back as a reflex, bumping his back into his car. He’d seen the taller man be angry before, but he seemed even angrier now, and he had no idea why.

“Listen,” The mob boss spoke, capturing Kowalsky’s attention. “I don’t like the fact you take job offers from other people, as in I really don’t. But I got your point. You need money,” he took a deep breath, most likely to calm himself down and not lose his temper, but it seemed to be a hard task for the man. “ However , I thought I had made it at least somewhat clear that if you clean for others, you’d better make fucking sure that nothing gets discovered or traced back to us-”
“You did.” Kowalsky accidentally interrupted.

Jim clearly took offense to that. “Then tell me why Kowalsky,” he took another step further, but the janitor could back away as the car wasn’t moving. “Tell me why I had to drive your daughter home because she was trailing you.”

“She was- What ?”

“And you had no idea,” he added.

“Jim what the fuck are you talking about?!” Kowalsky finally asked.

“She trailed you, motherfucker!”

“ How ?! She’s a kid!”

“And I’m assuming it's because she’s a kid you’ve installed a tracking app on her phone, yes?” he asked, getting his answer as he saw the realization dawn on Kowalsky as the color drained from his face and his eyes just stared, unfocused. “Thought so,”

“But… why would she-” Kowalsky mumbled, being interrupted yet again.

“Because you’re a horrible liar Kowalsky,” Jim explained. “Your daughter isn’t an idiot, but you seem to be. She got curious, and you couldn’t convince her well enough. Worst of all, it got so bad she went out to try and find out what you were doing,” 

Kowalsky imagened what could have happened if she did somehow successfully track him down. She’d peek through a window or open the backdoor to the inside and see what he was doing. What if something had happened to her on the way there or home? What if she had gotten lost or worse? The horrifying scenarios were cluttering in his tired mind, filling up his thoughts, as if his daughter hadn’t already been returned home safe and sound.

He hadn’t thought this could happen if he left his phone at home. Hell, he hadn’t thought she’d venture out to try and find him. He knew she was skeptical of his work, but to this extent? How had he not noticed?

“Where is it?” he asked.

“Glovebox,”

Kowalsky pushed past Jim and opened the car to the passenger seat and smacked the glove box open. His daughter’s phone slipped out as soon as it opened. Sneaky little preteen. 

He took her phone and stared at it in disbelief. 

Jim looked at the janitor, his expression plain, but anger still lingered in his eyes.

“You’re lucky it was your daughter who followed you, had it been anyone else they’d probably have found you,” Jim spoke as he walked closer but stopped a good arms length away, remembering what happened last time he approached the father in distress. “Then you'd be in some real trouble.”

Kowalsky whipped his head around, but his hands didn't seem to be ready to smack the mob boss. “Lucky?! Lucky ?! My daughter could've gotten hurt! She can’t go outside like that, she-” he stopped himself, knowing that Jim probably didn't care for a sob story. “She’s just a kid,” he muttered.

“And that’s what's worrying Kowalsky. A kid almost got you caught, now imagine how an adult would fare,” Jim explained and narrowed his eyes. “I can’t have that happen.”

“So what now?” Kowalsky challenged. “Going to kill me?” The thought was a big possibility in his mind. Jim had probably killed people for less. At least he was out of sight of his daughter.

“Believe me Kowalsky, it's very tempting right about now, but your skills are still needed,” he explained. “Though I’m not letting you go without a fair punishment,”

“You put a hand on my daughter-”

Jim held his hands up in defense. “I’m leaving your daughter’s punishment up to you, assuming she'll be learning her lesson as well. You, Kowalsky, will handle your own punishment,” 

“Then what did you have in mind?” 

It came as a surprise to Kowalsky when Jim scratched his neck and glanced away like he was thinking. 

He hummed to himself. “It’s late, Kowalsky, I’ll call you tomorrow. I'm definitely going to dock your pay,”

“Dock my-” Kowalsky paused. If he complained Jim might go even further with reducing it, which could become worrisome as of this expensive time. “Alright,” he mumbled. 

“I’d slap you unconscious if I thought that would have any effect on you,” He promised before his eyes once more returned to the weapon Kowalsky had brought home with him. “I also need you to not bring back souvenirs, you can sell them for all I care, just don't. Bring. Them. Back,” Jim reiterated, grabbing the handle of it. “I’m confiscating it. Any objections?” He challenged but received no push back from the janitor.

“Take it for all I care, I just need you to leave.”

-----

 It had been a worrying couple of minutes since Elena last saw her dad and Jim before she had been banished to her room alongside Amber. She couldn’t lie, she was scared for her dad. What if Jim lied about not wanting to fire her dad? Could he really be so angry at him? Could that even be a real reason to fire someone? Them not watching their misbehaving kid. Seemed kinda stupid to her. This was her mistake, her fault. If she’d just stayed home and got her sleep her dad wouldn’t be on the verge of being fired.

Amber didn’t catch the younger girl’s worries as she was currently showing the girl photos on her phone, going through memories and chatting her ears off, the drunk blush across her face slowly fading but was still very visible. She sat on the edge of the bed while Elena was sitting, the blanket only covering her lower half.

“And this is my last tattoo, and I’m thinking of getting this one next- Oh then this one! I’d love this one,” she chatted while swiping through her gallery, showing it to Elena who’s automatic response was to smile and nod like she was listening. “I’d love to have an amber based tattoo, ‘cuz you know, my name, but I can't find any I really like,”

“Amber is pretty,” Elena commented, unsure herself if she meant the name or resin.

Amber flashed her an appreciative smile. “Thanks, dad named me. You?”

“Uh… Mom,” she answered, confused at first.

“That’s probably for the best from what I’ve witnessed,” Amber admitted. Elena wondered if the woman was thinking back to their poorly named cat.

Elena’s eyes moved to the door. “Do you think it’s going well?”’

Amber looked at the closed door as well and pondered the question. Blowing out air as she thought. “I mean, probably. I haven’t heard anyone yell, and believe me, I can hear when my dad yells.”

“I didn’t mean for my dad to get in trouble,” she said, not knowing why she was saying this to Amber. The woman had probably figured this out by now. 

Amber tilted her head while giving Elena what was probably the warmest smile she’s ever seen her do. “I know that, and don’t worry, my dad said he wouldn’t fire him… Purtroppo ,” Amber tried to reassure her, but the last word was mumbled and almost incoherent.

“Could he even fire him? Can he fire my dad because I was the one doing something wrong?” she inquired. Apparently that was a harder question for Amber to answer as her warm smile faltered and she proceeded to glance around the room for a reply.

“Probably not… My dad is just- He’s just really worried that you, you know, could’ve hurt yourself. He’s really into like… child safety,” she spoke quickly, her words scattered about as she interrupted herself. Elena raised an eyebrow at her unconvincing behavior.

“But-” before she could ask anymore questions, Amber interrupted her.

“Enough about that! What are your plans for the weekend? Going shopping with your girlfriends?”

“... I don’t have any girlfriends?”

“Your friends , Elena. Gonna go out on a girl’s trip?”

“No, I’ve never been on one,”

“YOU’VE NEVER-” Amber clasped her hand over her own mouth to shut herself up. She eyed the confused Elena with sympathy. “We’re gonna have to fix that,”

Before Elena could respond, she heard footsteps nearing her door and out of the corner of her eye she saw her doorknob turn.

She tensed up, unsure if she was ready for whatever was going to happen once the door opened. She clutched the mattress’ sheet under her, out of sight of anybody else.

Jim was the one who entered first. He locked eyes with Amber first and signaled to her that they were leaving. The girl stood up, mouthed a quick goodbye to Elena, and squeezed past her father and disappeared down the hall. 

Her father sneaked up behind Jim with an unreadable expression. He seemed to be in his own world for now, or at least until Jim turned away from Elena, smiling, and back to Kowalsky with a scowl and stern glare. Kowalsky returned the gesture as the older man walked away, leaving only the janitor and his daughter in the house.

Elena knew she had to look up at her father, but she couldn’t move her eyes upwards, and instead settled on eye contact with his legs.

Neither spoke a word, one unsure of what to say and one too scared to speak.

Her father had leaned up against her doorframe, arms crossed and was currently tapping his arm in a thinking manner.

Elena opened her mouth as if to speak, prepared to apologize another time that evening, but she bit her words back and swallowed nervously.

Thankfully, her dad was the one to finally break the nerve wracking silence. “Well, I guess today would be the best day to be a bit rebellious,” he looked up at her, a weak smile across his lips and tired eyes, seconds away from falling asleep.

The calm composure of her dad didn’t stop the young girl’s tired eyes from being overrun with tears. “I’m really sorry dad,” she apologized, her pitch shifting as the tears got caught in her throat. “I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to get you in trouble,”

Her dad pushed himself away from the door frame and over to the side of her bed, sitting down next to her.

“Elena,” he spoke as he placed his hand on her shoulder. “Please tell me, why on earth you would think of going after me?” His father kept his voice low, but still added that stern parental tone she was used to.

She glanced up, mustering up the courage to look her father in the eyes, but quickly looked away again. She didn’t have it in her.

“I- I don’t know,” she admitted with a stammer. “I- You- … you’re just so exhausted,” her answer hit her dad with concern as he looked at his daughter with a worried expression.

“Elena, I’ve told you this, you really don’t need to worry about me-”

“But I do!” she interrupted. “I can't help it, you look worse than me some days,”

Kowalsky was taken aback with that comment. It seemed like he had something to reply with but the words never left his mouth.

“I just needed to know if all you really did was clean,” she admitted. She never believed her dad whenever he’d briefly tell her what he did. He kept the same story and never changed it, but Elena just couldn't buy it. She still can’t, even when her dad’s own boss backed his story up. Was she just being worried for no reason all this time? 

“Elena, is there anything I can say or do that will at the very least ease your worries?” her father asked, gently brushing his fingers against her shoulder in a soothing manner. He tilted his head, searching for her eyes but she still couldn’t look at him, shame creating a large lump in her chest and restraining her from looking back up at him. 

“I don’t know,” she mumbled, barely audible, but her father was able to decode it. 

“Would you want me to send you some pictures?” he suggested. “I can probably get the old camera working again and bring it with me. Would that make you feel better?”

Elena finally looked up, but her eyes didn’t meet her father’s and instead settled between his throat and chin. She sniffed, trying to prevent her nose from running alongside her tears. “I guess,” she muttered. “Aren’t you mad?”

Her father chuckled before leaning down and saying; “Oh I’m furious,” with a smile. “But not at you, I could never be.”

“Are you in trouble?” she inquired.

Her father shrugged. “Probably. Nothing you need to worry about though,”

“And if I do?”

“Then I’ll probably just have to come visit you in the hospital with your favorite scones and reassure you,” her father put his hand on her head and very gently ruffled it. Elena now looked up through her less watery eyes and smiled faintly up towards her dad. “Hell, I’ll sneak Bastard in if that could cheer you up,”

“Thanks dad.” she said. “... Am I in trouble?”

“Absolutely,” he answered with no second to spare. “You are to never do that again young lady, I don’t like having three heart attacks in the span of four hours. You’ll get disciplined eventually, I don’t like adding another one as the hospital already seems to be enough for you.” he leaned close and whispered: “If Jim ever asks you though, tell him I’ve revoked your dessert privileges,”

His daughter giggled a bit at the end. 

“Alright, we need to go to bed now Elena, we’re going to be unbelievably tired tomorrow,” 

“Okay… Can I sleep in your bed again?” she found her puppy dog eyes once more and her dad lost, not that he was going to say no anyways. “Can we bring Bastard?”

“I’m drawing the line at the cat, Elena. He bit me last time,”

“He was being playful,”

“It was seven in the morning,” 

Sadly for her dad, he lost against his daughter once more, as the pets snuck into the room before he could close the door and made themselves at home on the bed. Dexter had decided he’d like to lay on Elena, and against her protest, Kowalsky had ushered the dog off her. 

So, for the final night, the little family of four slept together, curled up on one bed. Both pets decided they wanted to snuggle up against their favorite person’s face and Kowalsky was quite too tired to protest the german shepherd this time. Elena however was elated by the cat’s affection.

-----

The rest had fallen asleep, filling the empty room with silent breathing. Kowalsky however, was wide awake, eyes open and mind racing.

What the fuck was Jim planning?

How much of a dock would he place on his checks? And for how long…

Those were only some of the questions swirling around his head, the rest had him eyeing to his right to his sleeping daughter and flaky excuse for a household pet.

She could’ve gotten really hurt this evening. Was she really so worried she thought she had to go out to make sure? How hadn’t he noticed? He really needed to get some sleep if he was going to pay more attention to those little things.

How was he going to discipline her? Any form of usual punishment would just seem cruel right about now. Can’t send her to her room, can’t take her phone away, can’t prohibit her from interacting with her friends. What was he going to tell Jim? He was thinking of lies he could tell his boss, lies that weren’t easily disproven, lies that would satisfy the anger that Kowalsky witnessed from the man today.

Before he knew it, he’d stayed up another hour with only his thoughts accompanying him and morning was approaching faster and faster. He wondered if sleep was even worth it at this point.

Edit to add: friend drew art for this chapter after they read it.

Amber bothering her dad:

Elena getting busted:

And they also thought it was funny how everyone assumed they drew the art from the last chapter (psssst, I drew them :3

Chapter Text

What he thought was another dumb decision made by his daughter turned out to be him driving Kowalsky’s daughter home and having a little talk with the father.

Words could not describe how furious he’d been at the man. Kowalsky’s borderline disrespect of him was amusing at first, the man knowing where and where not to go. But it seemed like the janitor was pushing the limits daily, and this evening was the final straw.

He’d confiscated the souvenir and given Kowalsky a, in his opinion, a mild warning and heads up. Just because you worked for him doesn’t mean you can avoid consequences. Whatever they may be in the future, he didn’t know right now. He was tired, worn, and thoroughly irritated.

Jim drove his daughter back to her current apartment, the longest one she’s had at this point… 3 months.

He asked if she was sure she didn’t just want to sleep in her room at his home, but she assured her dad the guys were definitely out cold, though it would be a good idea to have Kowalsky on quick dial. Jim shook his head with disappointment. It wouldn’t be long before Amber’s body count would surpass his.

The drive to his own place was longer, or at least that’s what it felt like. Amber could talk for eight hours straight but at least there was someone to waste time with.

He didn’t want to turn the radio on and listen to whatever was playing. He was not in the mood for it.

His place was nicely quiet, and very remote, a decent drive out from the city. No one came out here, hell, even the animals didn’t go close to his house.

He got inside and closed the door, only relaxing his shoulders as he heard the automatic lock click in. He moaned as the ache in his shoulders intensified and rubbed the area where it stemmed from. 

He really needed a massage.

He hung his jacket and almost physically flinched when he walked past the hallway mirror, shocked at his own reflection.

He needed a haircut too. When was the last time he took proper time to groom himself? Thinking about it, it had been a while, maybe around the time Tyler Novak wanted to talk to him, which ended in him being punched by Kowalsky. A harder impact than he’d expected if he was honest, the janitor didn’t look like someone who could pack a good punch. 

Well, he certainly didn’t need to worry for Kowalsky’s safety if it came to it, pretty sure the janitor could beat someone to a bloody pulp with nothing but his trusty mop.

Jim walked through his house, passing his open and inviting bedroom with a premade bed and fluffed pillows, straight to his dark office furthest away from anything, settled in the middle of the house. There were no windows producing natural light, and this specific office he hadn’t bothered to decorate like the one he had in his cabin.

He imagined he would be spending his late nights relaxing, maybe going over a few emails before retiring to his bed. Instead, here he was, hours after midnight, wide awake and desperately needed to finish some papers that he’d spread across his desk a week ago by now.

He’d been a bit too occupied by the current threats, and they’ve been taking up most of his time. Hell, today’s lead was a dead end too. Had a guy tied up and left him de-eared and learned nothing useful.

He beelined for his chair, ignoring the lightswitch to the room, and plopped down in his chair, ignoring the slight screech emitting from the back. 

He sighed in relief as he rubbed his tired eyes. “Ohh, Sono stanco…”

He really didn’t want to work right now, but his enemies never sleep, so he had to stay up and alert. Besides, if he could just get this done, he could sleep for maybe two hours before his daughter called him again, expressing panic as all her friends died… again.

He barely got his computer up and running before he heard a familiar ringtone from his back pockets. Well, that was quick.

He groaned in slight annoyance before readying his face and voice to cater to Amber, and was surprised to see the name of the person calling him. What did he want?

He picked it up and put it on speaker, his eyes on his work.

“Evening,” he greeted.

“Evening Jimmy,”

He looked up from his paperwork quickly to break the non-existent forth wall with a look of irritation. “How many times have I told you not to call me that, Smith?”

He could practically hear his secretary shrug on the other side. “Not a lot,”

That’s a lie, he tells the man three times a day not to call him that.

“State your business Smith, It’s late and I’m not in a particularly good mood at the moment,” Jim demanded before looking at the first pieces of papers. Approved times off, oh god.

“So, there might have been a little incident at one of your warehouses," Smith informed him, playing on the Incident word. Jim could almost feel what happened, but was compelled to ask for further information anyways.

“Yes?” He sighed internally, hoping this was a little scuffle that could be settled without his presence. 

“That may or may not have resulted in a couple of positions being open,” Smith joked, trying to lighten the mood, which failed. Jim was not any happier than he was at the start.

“Which warehouse?”

“Werehouse LDT, northern side of the outpart of the city,”

Great, fucking great. That was no coincidence. He had a lot of weapons stored away in some of the containers in that warehouse, both for safe keeping and smuggling. That place was targeted, and to make it worse, it was a ticking timebomb with the uppiling complaints and letters from his workers, asking or straight up demanding raises or bonuses.

“Riot or attack?” he asked.

“A bit of both I think,”

“You think?”

“I wasn’t really there,”

“Smith I don't need you to think, I need you to know!” Jim yelled, done for today a long time ago. Smith remained his calm self.

“What’s gotten you so riled up today, Jimmy?” he asked, already immediately forgetting the nickname was not looked upon kindly.

“Well for starters, someone can’t say my name correctly,” Smith had no comment for that. “Secondly… that damned janitor,”

“Oh Kowalsky?” Smith guessed correctly. “Did he punch you again?” he then guessed wrong.

Jim wished he’d done that instead. “Worse, his kid trailed him, and made it halfway before the phone battery thankfully ran out,”

“Oh,” Smith sounded shocked, or as shocked as that man could. Honestly nothing surprised that man anymore. “Do I need to send someone or?”

“Won’t be necessary, I already had a talk with him,” Jim informed, clicking a couple of buttons of APPROVED on the screen. “Is the incident under control yet?”

“Yes, I got it handled over here, but it's a real bloody mess. I think only someone with crime scene cleaning experiences could get all of this cleaned up nice and shiny,” Smith’s sarcasm was almost bleeding through the call, which wasn’t appreciated.

“... I get it, Smith. I’ll be getting Kowalsky out there tomorrow. Tell the workers they got a day off because safety inspection is there or something,”

“Will do Jim,” and with that, Smith hung up, presumably on his way to send an email to everyone working there. Jim would handle Kowalsky- oh right Kowalsky. What was he gonna do with that guy?

He was attempting to read a paper with way too many symbols for his eyes to register comprehensible words. He groaned, defeated, before dropping his head to the table, a loud thump echoing throughout the quiet study.

Work could wait, for now, a little nap. 

-----

Everything was almost done.

Elena’s new room was looking better and better. The homemade stars that stuck to the ceiling didn’t look half bad, Elena even had them semi modelled after constellations. That was a challenge for Kowalsky, as he suddenly discovered how bossy Elena could be if she wanted to. It didn't help that both he and his daughter were tired from the serious lack of sleep on both their parts, so they were both decently grumpy and Elena misremembered some constellations, which agitated her even more. 

Through his sleepiness, Kowalsky was still trying to make this first visit as relaxed as possible. Elena wouldn’t be going home again for a while, best not to make her hate the place… even more.

He did his best to make her new room feel more at home than the last one. They brought some of her comfort items like her favorite books, they’d hung up the cute starry fairy lights, and Kowalsky had made some item frames with pictures of Dexter and Bastard, and Elena’s favorite pic of the family. Her, Helen and Kowalsky at the beach, taking a well deserved day off.

He hadn’t told Elena he made her those as a surprise, and she seemed to really like them, evident by the bright smile she gave.

Although he wasn’t done yet.

“So on a scale from one to ten, how bad do you hate the room?” he asked.

“Well, I don’t hate it,” Elena admitted. It seemed like she almost wanted to dislike the room, giving her another reason to hate the place, but due to her dad’s work, she couldn’t. Kowalsky would count that as a success.

The room was a straight up depression cause before they got to work. Everything was bland and bright, light bounced off every surface, blinding their tired sensitive eyes. Now it was more akin to Elena’s room at home. Cozy.

They had mostly worked in silence however. Neither wanted to speak after what transpired mere hours ago. But Kowalsky couldn’t dream of leaving Elena on her first day on bad terms, so he went over and got a worn sportsbag he brought with him, not saying what it was for.

Elena had plopped herself down on the bed, covered in blankets and decorative pillows she herself picked out. She eyed the frames on the table next to her bed with a warm smile, and Kowalsky couldn’t tell which one she was looking at, but something told him it was one of the animals. This would be her first night in months where she’d be sleeping alone, with no cat walking in and laying on her head or dog sleeping at the foot of her bed. Just herself and a mountain of pillows.

“Don’t worry,” he spoke, grabbing her attention. “They’ll be back in your bed before you know it,”

“I hope so,” she muttered. “I’ll miss them,”

“You’ll be seeing them again,”

“I know, just not fast enough. Promise me you’ll keep them company,”

“I promise I’ll keep Dexter company,” Kowalsky promised, earning an eyebrow raise from Elena, clearly silently asking him "What about Bastard?”
“Dexter will keep Bastard company, that’ll be his job,” he explained.

Elena grinned. “You really hate cats,”

“I don’t hate cats,” Kowalsky defended himself. “Just that cat,”

Her father’s rivalry with the lazy black cat was well known, he couldn’t hide his dislike of the cat from her, and neither could Bastard himself. They would go after each other like, well… cats and dogs.

He walked over, bag in hand, and sat down next to her, uncertain how’d he’d start this conversation but tried anyway. “Listen Elena, what happened this morning… it sucked, I know, and I don't want to leave this building knowing you’re still feeling guilty about it,” she could deny it as many times as she want, but just the look on her face whenever the thought or mention of the morning was spoken, was hint enough that she felt responsible. “So, since you are probably gonna miss sleeping with the animals, I got you a little something.”

He put the bag in the space between them and signaled for Elena to go ahead and zip it open. The girl hesitated, eyeing the bag curiously and seemed almost fearful of what her dad stuffed into the bag, like he’d brought Bastard or some other living animal with him.

He gave her time however. Elena carefully rustled the bag, hearing nothing moving on the inside. She tried pressing the sides together, not feeling any resistance. She gave her dad a look that could get boiled down to a Dad what did you do?

Kowalsky just watched as she continued to inspect the bag without opening it, a tired but amused smile sneaking up on his lips as he watched, awaiting her reaction.

Finally, Elena grabbed the zipper with hesitation and carefully dragged the bag open.

At first, she didn’t know what she was looking at. A jacket? Pillow? Her eyes widened however at the realization. Her jaw dropped and she looked up at her dad, who was still smiling at her.

“No way!” she exclaimed, digging her hands in and raising the object up from the bag to inspect it.

A shark plush. Her dad had gotten her a decent sized shark plushie. It was long as well, a perfect hugging buddy, soft with no beads for eyes, and it looked adorable too.

Elena gave it a test, hugging it, and afterwards lounging at her dad for an embrace, who was not prepared but he didn’t mind. He managed not to fall backwards as Elena almost bodied him, knocking him off balance slightly and tightly wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Thanks dad!” she beamed, a real smile stretched to her ears.

Kowalsky chuckled, delighted at his daughter’s excitement. “Feeling a bit better now?”

Elena responded wordlessly with a simple enthusiastic nod.

She sat back and went back to look over the newly acquired plush, petting its forehead, feeling the soft furry surface.

“When did you get this?”

“I may have gone home early once from work,” he admitted.

Elena squinted her eyes disapprovingly. “Daaaaaad,” she scolded, just causing her dad to chuckle. He’d say it was worth it, putting that big smile on his daughter's face, replacing that sad look.

“Well, I didn’t want you to be so lonely in the evening, so I got you a friend,” he explained. “Hope you like it,”

Elena whipped her head around to look at her dad, hair almost hitting him. “Are you kidding? I love it!”

“Glad to hear,” he put an arm around her and gave a sweet sideways hug, momentarily resting his chin on her head, when the realization hit him. He wouldn’t be coming home from now, finding his daughter on the couch having raided the sweet pantry, reading with the animals laying around her. Until further notice, he’ll only have to make meals for himself, he only needs to get himself out the door, and he only has to remind himself to feed the animals.

Waow, if this was what empty nest syndrome felt like, he dreaded her college years.

“Elena, can you promise me you’ll at least try to socialize with the other kids? I know you like your books, but you can’t be cooped up in here every hour of the day,” Kowalsky asked, gently rubbing her shoulder where his hand rested.

Elena answered quicker than anticipated however. “I promise I’ll try,” she said, before looking up at him, turning her head. “But so should you,” That took him a bit off guard and he lifted his head off her to tilt it in confusion.

“What?”

“So should you, socialize I mean. The animals don’t count, dad.” Elena explained. 

Kowalsky wanted to tell her he was a bit too busy cleaning up after mob bosses and sadistic rich people to have a social life, but for obvious reasons, couldn’t. He opted to make a skeptical face at the mere thought of socializing again. How long had that been anyways? Last time he went out anyway… He didn’t have enough fingers for this.

“You haven’t seen that guy in a while,” she suggested, but the lack of a name didn’t make sense to him.

“Which guy?”

“You know uhh, that Paul’s son guy… I forgot his name-”

“Tyler,”

“Yeah, Tyler.”

It had been a while since the kid had been mentioned, much less by Elena. He’d love to say the first image in his head of Tyler was of the kid doing something stupid, but all Kowalsky saw was the lifeless eyes, head pumped full of bullets, and the bloody walls of the shower.

“Right, Tyler,” Kowalsky mumbled, playing along. “I’ll see what he’s up to,”

Elena gave him a Good Job pat on his back and an encouraging smile, probably wanting to psych up her dad. Little did she know however…

A knock to the room interrupted them and they both turned their head to the hallway door. 

“Come in,” Kowalsky called out.

One of the nurses of the kid’s ward opened the door, board in hand and a welcoming smile on her lips as she locked eyes with the family, mainly Elena.

“Hope I’m not interrupting,” she spoke. “Just wanted to see how you were settling in. The room looks great,”

“Thanks,” Elena spoke up. “My dad made it. He’s an interior decorator,”

Kowalsky couldn’t help the snort and embarrassed smile, shooting his daughter a glance saying Why would you say that? Elena just simply grinned.

“Well, it looks great. If you guys were done settling in, I was going to invite Elena for a little movie in the Child Room with some of the other kids on this ward,” the nurse offered. 

Almost on cue, Kowalsky and Elena looked at each other. He could sense Elena’s anxiety, but wanted to give her confidence a boost. 

“Go on Elena, and hey, if you get a chance, talk about all those astronomy facts you can,” he encouraged, at least nudging a smile out of her. Elena gave her dad one final embrace before jumping off the bed, slipping her now iconic shark slippers on, leaving the plushie safely on the bed, and walking out to follow the nurse. She glanced back at her father before closing the door. “Don’t worry, I won’t go anywhere,” he promised. Elena took his word for it and closed the door. As soon as she was gone, his smile immediately fell from his face, muscles too tired to keep the expression up. He took this chance to rub his eyes and yawn. God, he needed that.

Well, not much to do in this room. He tucked the shark into the bed like it was a child and left it for Elena to find when she’d return to the room. 

He could probably go get a coffee before-

Oh shit.

His thoughts were put on pause as a familiar sound echoed throughout the room like a cursed church bell; his phone was vibrating. Someone was calling him.

Maybe a few months ago he wouldn’t be so skeptical, but in his current circumstances, this wasn’t good. Not at all.

He walked over to the counter where he discarded the damn thing and saw the caller ID. The dread that had been building up in his throat got stuck, stopping air from going through, and having his heart skip a beat. What did the man want now of all days? Did he come up with a good way to punish Kowalsky? The man didn’t seem to want to hurt him physically, but he knew his weakness: money.

While standing, he didn’t realise how long he stared at the thing before the call ended, and a new one started up again right after. Kowalsky snapped out of his trance of fear and picked up, unsure how to start this conversation. 

“Kowalsky here,”

He heard a tired chuckle from the other side. “I’m surprised you haven't just started letting your daughter pick up your phone calls, Kowalsky.” Jim mused, but something in his tone indicated he wasn’t having any fun digging into Kowalsky currently.

But Kowalsky didn’t care. If he wanted to joke around, they’d joke around. “I’m surprised you never told me you’re also a comedian,”

So apparently it was only wrong when Kowalsky would tell a joke, because Jim didn’t seem all that appreciative of his comment with a couple of seconds of silence.

“I’ve got good news for you, Kowalsky,” Jim started. “I found a way for you to repay me for your screw up yesterday,”

Kowalsky groaned, the anticipation killing him. “Just spill it, how much of a cut are we talking? Twentyfive procent? Fifty?” he guessed, hoping it’d be around those numbers or below, knowing it’d be wishful thinking.

Jim paused, seemingly pondering if Kowalsky was joking. “... Are you joking?”

“Hoping, actually,”

“Well, sorry to disappoint-” he definitely wasn't sorry. “But no. It’ll be more like a… hundred percent,”

“A HUNDRE-” Kowalsky coughed, calming himself down from causing a scene in a children’s hospital. “A hundred?” he asked.

“Yes,” Jim paused, but not long enough for Kowalsky to start talking. “But, I did say that I had some good news for you, Kowalsky,”

“Dare I ask?”
“It’s only one cleaning job,” Jim explained, somehow calming Kowalsky down, just a little. “Don’t get all too relieved Kowalsky, it’s not gonna be an easy task,”

“Don’t tell me you actually shot up an orphanage,”

Jim sighed, either really tired or just done with Kowalsky. “No. A little ordeal happened at one of my warehouses earlier today- wait no, scratch that, a big ordeal.” Okay now he was being annoying on purpose. “I need you to head out here, now, and clean up so this place can operate again tomorrow,”

“So, just so I understand,” Kowalsky sat down on the bed and continued. “You want me to clean a warehouse, one big warehouse, and then all is forgiven?”

“... I wouldn’t put it exactly like that, but yes, essentially.”

“Alright, I’ll head out soon,” he promised, intending to end the call but Jim continued to talk, making him pause.

“That’s it?” he asked, though Kowalsky had no idea what he was referencing too. “You know Kowalsky, you’re quite ungrateful. I’m letting you off with what’s basically a warning and don’t even get a thank you? How rude,” he tsk’ed afterwards, clearly just playing the pretended hurt up. He’s doing what he was doing a while ago, fishing for a reaction, knowing he’ll get it, and he did. 

“Thank you, Jim.” Kowalsky eventually spoke, internally cursing at himself for complying.

“You can cut the first name while you’re at it Kowalsky,”

“... Thank you, sir.”

The phone call had finally ended, lasting way longer than Kowalsky had wanted it too. He got his stuff ready and tried his best to remember the way to the children’s room, having visited it before but it had been a while.
It didn’t take him long thankfully. Elena had joined the other kids in the ward in a movie watch, one Kowalsky didn’t recognize. On one hand, he was happy she was giving socializing a shot, even if it was just sitting in silence and watching a movie. On the other hand, he felt a ping of sadness seeing her sit further away from the kids, sitting tensely, sole focus on the screen.
Baby steps, he reminded himself.

While Kowalsky stood outside the room, looking through the windows, thinking of a good way to grab Elena’s attention without disrupting the movie, the girl must have developed a sixth sense because she turned her head like she heard him coming.

He waved her over and she walked over almost like she wanted an excuse to leave.

By the look of her dad however, Elena knew something bad was up.

She walked out and closed the door behind her before looking up at her dad, not disappointed, just sad. “Leaving already?”

Kowalsky nodded, quite sad himself. “I’ll be back again tomorrow, soon as I can,” he promised. “Don’t worry, you got the nurses and doctors if anything happens,”

Elena shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant, but failing. “They’re not you though,” she muttered.

“... I know, sweetie.” Kowalsky said before getting down on his knees so Elena could lean in and give a big old hug. “You got this,”

“Thanks dad,”

“Kocham Cię,”

“Ja też cię kocham,” Elena responded back, still not a totally fluent pronunciation, but she was getting there. “Work?”
“How’d you know?”
“You looked irritated,”

Kowalsky could only respond in a chuckle. He thought he was hiding his annoyance pretty well, guess not.

They bid their goodbyes and Kowalsky gathered up his stuff from Elena’s new room, giving it one last glance, looking for wrongs, but there was nothing, at least for now.

He left the hospital, too early for his own taste.
He’ll get the job done, come back, and bring his daughter some good fucking scones.

-----

Finding the place was a whole other job in itself. Jim really liked to place his properties far out and very remote. To each their own he supposed.

He drove the wrong way at least 3 times, but he’d keep that to himself.

He’d quickly gone by his house to empty out the truck and fill it with tons of cleaning equipment, because from the sounds of it, he might very well need it.

He drove down the road, enjoying his freedom until he’d reach his destination that was coming closer and closer. 

Suddenly, the trees on the side stopped and Kowalsky could see a parking lot in front of a great-sized warehouse. That had to be the place.

He inspected the exterior of the place as he got closer, but couldn’t see a specified entrance.
There was a ramp leading down by the side of the building, but the garage door leading to the inside was closed.

Jim didn’t give him any directions as to how to get in, or anything of the sorts, surely the man didn’t want Kowalsky to wander around like a headless chicken.

A specific part of their conversation suddenly replayed in Kowalsky’s mind “I need you to head out here,”

Here? Is Jim seriously here, again? The man didn't seem to want to leave him alone at any point. 

He put his truck in park for the moment and walked out, seeing if anyone greeted him or acknowledged his presence by now, but no. 

Alright then, seems like he’d have to do that himself. “Waow, there sure is no clear entry into this warehouse,” he spoke loudly, almost yelling. “Guess I’ll have to try and find a window I can climb through-”

The garage door suddenly moved and Kowalsky heard the poor mechanism lift the metal door like it’d been doing that for 60 years with no vacation. By the beginning, he saw a pair of expensive shoes on the opposite side, and by the end, his eyes locked with the person he expected to meet. 

“You know you didn’t have to alert the whole area of your presence, right?” Jim asked, looking as tired and irritated as ever.

“I’m aware,”

“... Just get your damn truck inside,”

“Yes sir,” Kowalsky didn’t want to fight him on that, as the man already seemed to be in a mood. He climbed back in and switched gears, driving the truck down and under the building.

He heard the click of a button being pressed as soon as he parked and turned the engine off. The door started to descend, slowly and loudly. Kowalsky even saw Jim grimace at the horrible sound. Perhaps this would be a reminder for the man to get the doors fixed.

Kowalsky jumped out of his truck and looked around, taking in his new surroundings, probably having to familiarize himself with it for the next couple of hours anyways.

He’d parked down in a small indoor parking lot, and by small he meant, maybe five or four parking spots and they were all filled up with trucks that had the company logo of a warehouse and a wolf- Oh, Werehouse, that’s funny. Kowalsky gave a chuckle of pity at the company pun.

The whole room was lit up by a single light in the middle, but it emitted enough bright  light for the whole room.

“So,” Kowalsky turned to his boss. “What happened this time? Faulty machinery?”

Jim sighed, mostly just out of annoyance, running his hand through his unkept hair. “Oh I wish, Kowalsky.” he muttered before giving Kowalsky a brief rundown of the events. Mentioning the demands, riot and eventual end to the whole ordeal.

“Huh… Did you give them a raise afterwards?” Kowalsky asked.

Jim narrowed his eyes warningly at the man’s joke, telling Kowalsky today was not a good day to joke around.

“You’ll get a raise when you deserve a raise. Slacking and clocking in late does not do that for you,” Jim explained. “And if you ever wanna see a quarter ever again, I suggest getting your gear and start cleaning.”

Kowalsky put his hands up as if to say Calm down, as Jim’s tone got even angrier, trying to deescalate whatever argument would have been created from that.

“I’ll hop to it,” he promised. “Anything else I need to know?”

“Yeah, get your walkie and turn it on,”

Kowalsky made a baffled expression at the request. “The walkie? Don’t tell me you feel the need to monitor me,”

“I don’t, but I also don’t feel like having you roam free in my warehouse unsupervised,” Jim replied.

Kowalsky had to bite his tongue, stopping himself from arguing back. Fine, as long as he could work alone in peace, he would be okay. Although…
“You’ll be leaving, right?”

Jim stared back at Kowalsky, almost right through him as if he was about to fall asleep. He didn’t give a verbal answer, but Kowalsky could read his mind well enough. He was staying there… again.

“J- Do you never go home, sir?” Kowalsky questioned.

Jim’s face turned almost sad, with a forced smile and weak chuckle. “Don’t get me wrong, I’d love to, but currently the only thing I trust you to do is clean, and someone is gonna have to lock this place off properly,”

“Don’t you have people for that?”

“... Those people are dead, Kowalsky.”

The janitor didn’t say anything back and just proceeded to get his gear from his truck. That was all he needed to hear.
He got the almost forgotten walkie in the glovebox and turned it on. At least it’s nice to know Jim is gonna be listening in on him, but he doesn’t like the fact. He’ll definitely have to throw out some jokes for a slight bit of payback, if Jim doesn’t have his head by then.

“Somewhere I need to head first?” he asked, just in case someone was bleeding out somewhere they shouldn't.

“No, just up,”

They said nothing else as Kowalsky walked up the stairs to the warehouse, leaving Jim alone in the basement for a moment, before seeing him come up a little while later.

-----

He walked up the stairs and had no trouble finding the room where it happened, as the first thing he was greeted by when he opened a door was a dead worker, still wearing his safety helmet that sadly didn’t protect him from the multiple rounds of bullets now embedded in his abdomen. Why was there a gun next to the worker however? Did Jim equip all his workers with “self defense” tools? That seems like a radically bad idea.

“Time to clock in I suppose,” Kowalsky muttered before getting to work. Putting his supplies aside for the moment and gearing up with the sponges and axe in his belt, and slipping his black latex gloves on. He bent down, slipped his hands under the body, and with little effort lifted it off the ground and over his shoulder. The guy seemed to be done bleeding anyways. “Wonder what caused these guys to rebel,” he pondered out loud, which he then regretted when his boss accidentally spooked him from behind.

“It’s pretty simple Kowalsky, greed,” The janitor flinched and whipped his head around to look at where the voice came from. “They demanded a collective raise, tried to force it, and then met the consequences of their actions,” Jim explained rather calmly, though Kowalsky didn’t know what else he expected from whenever the man was talking about taking the lives of people just trying to make a living.

Jim turned his head to stare at the janitor. “Don’t get any bright ideas from these guys,”

“No need to worry about that, I’ve seen what you’ve done to them, I would hate to get my throat cut open by a pizza slicer,” Kowalsky commented, remembering back to the guy in the spa whose head hung on by a thin slice of flesh. Definitely one of the worst injuries he’d seen at this job.

He continued past the mob boss and down the stairs with the body, flinging the first of probably many bodies into his truck. Man, why was he already tired? Oh right, the severe lack of any sleep, that might be it.

He’s gonna take one helluva nap when he gets back home, that’s for sure.

When he got back up, Jim was gone. Thank god, he could work in peace.

-----

And that’s what he proceeded to do. He walked around the warehouse with his tools, cleaning blood trails and scattered brain matter on the walls. It was odd to him how accustomed he’s become to this part of the job. He preferred to just forget about it as soon as he got home, disassociating when he was on the clock. But thinking about it… it disturbed him how accustomed he’s come to see a dead person, clean up their remains and not bat an eye anymore and the putrid stench of the bodies, which was strong at this point. When did all this happen?

He’d found a guy in a forklift who had clearly driven like a mad man on it, as shelves, gas canisters and baskets were scattered like used bullets. There was also a guy who seemed to have been the victim of said mad man, with the broken limbs and bones almost protruding out of his skin, lying in the middle of the floor. He looked better dressed, definitely wasn’t a worker, otherwise Kowalsky would ask why he hadn’t received a full Chanel suit and polished shoes. 

The guy in the forklift had bled out on the control panel, leaving Kowalsky to do his best to get all the blood that had seeped through the small cracks and seals, plus trying to move the guy, which deemed difficult as rigor mortis had seemed to have been set it, and the guy was gripping handles in the lift like his life depended on it. Kowalsky had to peel his fingers back and off the levers, feeling a horrible taste rise in his throat as he heard the man’s fingers crack unsettlingly.

Okay, that part could still get to him.

That cleanup took forever though, the mere task to put all the boxes back on the shelves based on color… and where was that last box?!

“Aha!” he exclaimed, finding the last blue box on top of the lights. “Nothing shall get past me,”

He wandered around further, cleaning the box area, the area he came in and the other side of it, wandering into what he thought was a funny sight. A large container being used as a break room, inside a warehouse. What a way to save money, he supposed.

He walked in, sliding the few five dollar bills into his pockets, and looked for potential evidence and whatnots, finding a note that had been strung up on a noteboard. He read through it, not finding anything off until he was at the end.

“... Boos?” he squinted his eyes in confusion. Was that someone miss spelling booze? There were a couple of beer bottles inside the container so it might have been.

Jim seemed to have overheard that one word and chimed in from the walkie. “You better not be thinking about getting drunk on the job Kowalsky, I don’t exactly think you’re on thick ice,”

“I’m not,” he quickly defended himself. “I’m just reading off a weird note in the breakroom,”

“Is it on a noteboard?”

“Yeah,”

“I wrote that note,”

Kowalsky was stunned at that for a good moment. Boos… did Jim try to write boss?

“Really?”

“Yes,”

“You know you wrote boos, right?”

“No, I wrote boss,”

“I-” Kowalsky couldn’t see a good reason to continue this discussion, but looking back at Jim’s previous behavior around reading and writing, he did have one question. “Sir, are you dyslexic?”

He didn’t know if the silence following his question was confusion or anger, and he didn’t want to rush the man so just waited awkwardly as he replied. 

“No,” Kowalsky heard an amused scoff making its way through the walkie’s quality. “I’m italian,”

The janitor would roll his eyes to the back of his head if he could. “Sure you aren’t a comedian, sir?”

“Not in this day and age,”

A couple of moments later Kowalsky had finished wiping the blood off the floor around the conveyor belt at the bottom level. There was one area left on the ground floor before he’d have to take the elevator, or the conveyor belt for fun, to get up to the 2nd floor to clean.

The area was akin to the previous ones. Forklifts, crates, and blood. A lot of blood. The thing making it stand out was the trucks in front of the garage doors, the backdoors slightly open, and a large dark pool of blood beneath it. It seemed like blood had been dripping out of the truck for a good while.

Before opening it however, and avoiding the possibility of being bodied for a third time, he looked around the area surrounding the truck. Looking for hidden bullets or discarded guns, or any excuse to not look in the truck right away.

Surprisingly, he found another note. Unsurprisingly, it seemed like it was another one of Jim’s notes by the way it was signed… boos. Plus it featured some more errors.

Spelling another like anader, and above as abav. In all fairness, English probably wasn't the man’s first language either.

“Lots of people correct you?” Kowalsky asked and waited for a reply. He thought the silence following his question was of annoyance, but then he realised it was just him. Jim wasn’t on the other side of the call right now. Where’d he go?

Oh well, that just means a couple of minutes of freedom for him.

He stretched his arms, cracking his knuckles and joints by his shoulders, getting ready to possibly push another dead body off of him.

He opened the back doors to the truck, taking a big step back as the doors swung open. Thankfully, there was no corpse trying to fall on him. Not thankfully, the first thing Kowalsky noticed inside the truck was the vibrant color of blood, some of it dried, some of it still glistening by the hit of the light from the outside. There were paintings in golden frames, fighting for space inside the small box. At the back of the truck, was the source of all the blood, another worker’s body, leaning up against another painting like the others. The way all the blood had splattered made sense now. The man was blown completely open. Face was blown to bits and he had been shot in the chest, arms and legs for extra measures.

The man must’ve gotten cornered and died in the most unpleasant way possible, as there was no blood trail of any kind leading up to the truck.

“Poor guy,” Kowalsky expressed. “All he probably wanted was a two dollar raise,”

He climbed inside, thankful his shoes were anti-slippery shoes, and walked over to what was previously a full bodied guy, with his face blown off. Unfortunately he looked to the side, on the floor and saw what seemed to have been the guy’s eyeball, now lacking fluids and imitating a popped water balloon.

“... Inviting,” Kowalsky sarcastically commented before glancing away and grabbing onto the now stiffened body. “This whole truck is a sight for sore eyes,”

“You bet,”

If Kowalsky’s soul could leave his body it definitely would have by that unrecognizable response. He jumped, instinctively away from the source, which oh so happened to be the wall of the truck where the paintings were leaning up against, creating a loud thunk from his shoulder. He whirled his head around to look at who had snuck up on him.

He recognized the face, but the name escaped him. It was one of Tyler’s friends, that much he remembered. It wasn’t Frank, and it wasn’t that other cheery guy that looked too young for this world. 

He pointed at the boy. “Which one are you again?”

“Adam, sir,” the boy, now Adam again, replied.

The “sir” part definitely caught the janitor off-guard. When did anyone in this field have that much respect for him? He raised his eyebrow and eyed the boy warily.

“Alright, Adam, care to explain why you gave a guy a heart attack?” Kowalsky asked, slowly feeling his beating heart return to a normal pace.

Adam smiled innocently, physically apologizing. “Sorry about that, I just came by because Big Jim needs you up in the control room,” he informed. 

“What? Why?” he instantly asked.

“There’s apparently a guy bleeding out over all the buttons, and the blood could drip into the panel, yada yada big mess, needs you up there,” Adam explained.

It seemed believable, but Kowalsky still had a question remaining. “Why couldn’t Jim tell me that himself?” he asked and pointed to the walkie attached to his belt.

“Oh yeah, he went down to check on couple of systems and forgot his walkie, I was just on my way to the office before he grabbed me,”

“Alrigh then,” Kowalsky mumbled, climbing out of the back, but grabbing the ankle of the corpse and dragging it out with him. “Sooo… where would this control room be?”

Adam graciously pointed to a spot up on the 2nd floor. “The conveyor belt has an almost direct route to the room, plus you can activate it by the panel, much easier for transport of… stuff,” Adam suggested, eyeing the body in Kowalsky’s hands.

“Thanks for the tip, I’ll keep it in mind,” 

They both walked off in their separate directions, and Kowalsky dropped the body off at the end of the conveyor belt. Well, time to do something he’d always wanted to try. Walk on a conveyor belt.

-----

Jim had left Kowalsky to his devices and made his way up to his office in the building, though most of the time it would primarily be Smith’s office.

He didn’t know how, but just being around the janitor drained a lot of energy from him. It wasn’t like the man had the personality of a bouncy ball, he was just, a lot. 

He sat down in his chair and felt immediate relief in the expensive yet comfortable material. His favorite part of the day, just sitting down, and getting his coffee- Oh wait, he forgot his coffee. Darn it, well… he can probably do without it for a bit, right? Yeah he probably could.

He turned his computer on and placed the walkie on the side of the desk, ready for some investigational work. What in the world had gone down here. This over-the-top riot had gone out of control and was placed at a very bad time, like it was planned. There are too many coincidences happening nowadays, it was unsettling, and he needed to know what was going to happen and who was behind it. He had his suspicions, but he knew fully well that if he started a witch-hunt it’d come back to bite him in the ass. So, he needed to plan.

Smith had given him a rundown and everything he needed to know about the scuffle so he could go through it while he was here, supervising the janitor. 

The walkie was surprisingly good background noise for him as he worked, he heard Kowalsky’s steps on the metal ladders, the water filling his bucket and the soaps being poured in. He’d give the walkie his full attention when Kowalsky would eventually speak.

“Aha!” Kowalsky spoke out. “Nothing shall get past me,”

Jim switched the tab on the computer to the surveillance, going over to where Kowalsky was currently cleaning, seeing him fish a box down from a pair of lights, sorting it onto the shelves, in color as well. It was almost adorable, his workers were never this organized.

He left the surveillance tab for now, it seemed that Kowalsky knew what he was doing.

Hours went by that felt like minutes and from his perspective, it seemed that Kowalsky was making steady progress, except for the unfortunate find of Jim’s handwritten note. Whoops. Thought that thing would be gone by now. Kowalsky’s question was still on his mind however. 

Are you dyslexic?

How rude of him to assume such things, one little spelling mistake did not constitute an inability to write or read… that’s at least what Jim told himself. Besides, English isn’t his first language so of course he doesn’t know how to spell every word. 

He eventually got up from his chair, bored of the silence and legs needing to move around a little. He put on an older vinyl that he probably should get a new one considering how worn out it’s become. Nonetheless, a classic melody played that he’d long forgotten the name of.

He walked out his office for a good moment, to the desk in the hallway with the good coffee machine next to it. He’d craved this thing ever since he sat down.

He put it over and patiently waited. The machine was not overly loud thankfully, so he could still hear the music from the office, alongside sudden noise, probably coming from Kowalsky’s walkie. Jim figured it was just Kowalsky talking to himself or letting out a stupid but funny joke. He promised himself he’d check in on what Kowalsky was saying when he’d sit back down, trying to ease his worries. He’s, to put it bluntly, too fucking tired to stress about anything right now. He doesn’t have the strength for it.

He walked back in, foam cup in hand and sat down again. No noise was coming from the walkie anymore, which either meant Kowalsky stopped talking, or he had died in the five minutes Jim had been gone. He hoped for the first option as he really didn’t have time to find a new cleaner.

He picked the little device up and clicked the button, ready to speak. “Talking to anyone, Kowalsky?”

“Oh, hey, you’re alive,” Kowalsky greeted him, probably finding his sudden absence questionable.

“Yes I am, so sorry to disappoint,” Jim sarcastically apologized and finally took a taste of the fresh and hot coffee. Yup, that was much needed. “Are you making new friends with my previous workers?”

“No I was just speaking to one of your current workers, I am on my way to the control panel now,”

That made Jim pause, thinking of Kowalsky's phrase over and over again, looking for hints of sarcasm or any jokes. Was he being serious? No one should be here but the two of them. No one should even know they are here.

He quickly got up on his feet. “Kowalsky, what are you on about-”

In the midst of him speaking he heard a smack and a thumb following the sound.

“Kowalsky?!”

No response.

Fuck. Fuck indeed.

He ditched the walkie and went searching for the gun he’d brought with him to work, in case anything were to happen while he was here. He wasn’t anticipating this to happen, but not utterly speechless. This was just his life now.

He hurried out of his office and down the hallway to the elevator and ascended to the first floor.

-----

Kowalsky almost jumped up the now vertical conveyor belt. It was clear its intended purpose was to go down, not up. While it wasn’t a direct route to the control room, he did eventually spot it. 

Weirdly though, Jim started speaking from the walkie.

“Talking to anyone, Kowalsky?”

Oh yay, he’s alive. What was he to do without his divine presence? 

“Oh, hey, you’re alive,” He greeted him very sarcastically. His sudden silence was questionable, but Kowalsky wasn’t interested in the slightest.

“Yes I am, so sorry to disappoint,” Liar. “Are you making new friends with my previous workers?”

Kowalsky opened the door to the control room. Thankfully it stood out in a nice way. Barely anything seemed out of place.

“No I was just speaking to one of your current workers, I am on my way to the control panel now,” as he answered Jim’s question, his relief was now the cause of his concern. Wait, where was all the blood? Wasn’t he just informed of a body being up here, bleeding ou-

His thoughts were put to a hurtful halt, and so was everything else. A heavy metal object made fierce contact with the back of his head in what felt like less than half a second. The lights went out, as did his legs, collapsing under him, sending Kowalsky to the floor, his hands being unable to have him land safely so he landed with a heavy thump and a throbbing headache.

-----

He waited as the elevator ascended downwards, gun ready in hand. Coming down in an elevator without a surprise up your sleeve is a really bad idea, but he did one time waltz into both a spa and pizzeria and killed everyone in the building. One person shouldn’t be all that hard, though he wished he had his Tommy.

The elevator pinged at his arrival and the doors opened, revealing… nothing. No one was there. This was alarming. 

There was a metallic click in the room, over by his left, where the panel was. He would like for his first thought to be Kowalsky, but it wasn’t.

He gripped the gun’s handle tighter and steady but surely walked out of the elevator and into the control room, eyes scanning the room. No one immediately, and they were seemingly trying to be quiet… their attempt was unsuccessful however.

He peaked his head carefully around the corner, seeing a man’s back at the other side of the room by the office room that is always locked, alongside Kowalsky’s abandoned equipment on the floor and walkie. Small specks of blood were around the tools too. The stranger seemed busy with the lock, like he was failing to lock it successfully.

Jim silently walked over the metal shelf and leaned up against it, gun ready in his hand in case it goes wrong.

“Lock giving you trouble?” he asked, immediately making the man pause and look up, back still turned to the mob boss. “Show me your hands, and turn around, slowly,” Jim instructed the man, fidgeting with a part of the gun in his hand, making an audible click.

The unnamed man slowly straightened his back and raised both his hands, holding nothing in either of his palms. He carefully started turning around, revealing his face, and it was… none that Jim recognized. It was an older man, probably around Jim’s own age, evident by the grey hairs and amount of wrinkles. 

The man glared daggers at Jim, hatred coloring his eyes. 

“Do I know you?” Jim asked, the man’s face still not finding a match in his mind. 

“No, but you should.”

Jim calmly raised an eyebrow, pretending not to be surprised. “Meaning?”

“You took someone away from me, and you have no idea who I am,” the man scoffed. “What is irony anyways,”

Jim narrowed his eyes warningly. “I’ll rephrase that. Who are you?” This time, an answer was demanded.

The stranger sighed. “I’m John,”

"Last name?” He tried to coax the last name out of the man, but it didn’t seem to work. “I’ve got countless Johns working for me buddy,”

John seemed surprised by that conclusion. “How’d you know I work for you?”

Jim couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle. The man was wearing shoes that he gave to the people working in his warehouse, he had somehow snuck into the warehouse that currently had every exit locked, and he was confused how Jim knew he worked for him.

But instead, Jim settled on another answer. “People working for me often want me dead,” that seemed to be a satisfactory answer to John. “How did you get in here?”

“I never left.”

Yeah, that oughta do it.

“Where’s your buddy then?” Jim demanded to know. No way this man was here all by himself, that’s a suicide mission. Add along the fact that Jim had no idea who John was, the man wouldn’t stand a chance.

“My what?” John asked, flinching and fleeing to the wall in shock as a shot rang through the room, directed his way but missing intentionally as a threat. 

“I don't like repeating myself John, where’s your partner? I know people like you, you’re not here alone,” Jim demanded once again, cementing his annoyance by pointing the end of his gun directly at John’s head. “And for the sake of it, where is my fucking janitor?” He eyed the abandoned equipment, signaling that Kowalsky clearly had been here, and was now gone. The man would never abandon his equipment willingly.

“I’ll tell you this Jim,” John started to speak. “One is here, and one is not,”

Honestly Jim wasn’t much for riddles, especially not when he was tired. “Say that again, but clearer,”

John nonverbally replied to Jim with a change in expression, hate still in his eyes, but was now accompanied by a confident smirk. 

Fuck.

Right on cue, another shot rang out, but not in John’s direction, nor was it from Jim’s gun. The man’s eyes widened, shocked. Who shot. And where? One second later, he got one of his questions answered as a cold and splitting pain shot through his left thigh.

He just got shot, and from one glance at this new wound, it was from behind, and it was close, but not explosive. Still, blood sprayed from his thigh and onto the floor.

“Fuck!” Jim exclaimed, free hand instinctively going down to put pressure on the wound, but let out two shots in John’s direction without aiming. 

He whipped his head around, surprised to see how close the partner in crime was to him, so close he could punch him, which he did. He fidgetted with the gun in his hand, gripped it tighter and swung it full force into the man’s face, hearing a discomforted yowl emit from him as he stumbled backwards and eventually collapsed to the ground, hand covering his face, tending to the hit.

Jim didn’t have time to decipher who he had just hit, as he heard John quickly run across the room to them.

Damn.

He wasn’t in shape to tussle with people right now, thanks to the guy who now has a gun imprint in his face. 

He raised the gun to John, ready to fire.

-----

Ow.

Ow ow.

Ow ow ow- why does it hurt so much?
And why was it so… cold? And dark?

Kowalsky felt his head throb, sending jolts of pain through his body, getting more intense by the second. He opened his closed eyes, gave them a couple of seconds to unblur, and found himself on the cold concrete floor inside the… office closet? Wait, where was he, and what happened?

The room was pitch black, but his eyes soon adjusted and granted him subpar sight. He groaned as he got up on his elbows, his whole body acting upset as if he’d just woken up a person past midnight. He sat up and already needed a quick break by then, arms already sore from the heavy lifting. 

The throbbing pain was not fading however, it was still there, prevalent as ever. 

“What happened?” he muttered, reaching a hand back to touch the area at the back of his head, the source of it, and felt something hot and wet. He winched at the mere touch and brought his hand back to view it. The lack of light in the room made it so it only looked like his hand had fidgetted with oil, but the metallic smell immediately gave the substance away: Blood. 

“Oh,” was all he could muster at the moment. He was bleeding from the back of his head, and had been shoved in a mansion-like broom closet. Oh this was not happening.

Now determined to get somewhere, he felt around his belt, finding some of his smaller tools were still with him like the sponges and his axe, but he was happiest finding his flashlight still clinging to his belt. 

“Beautiful,” Kowalsky commented as he gripped the flashlight and turned it on. The light may not have been pointed directly into his face, but it might as well have been with the intensity. He blinked and narrowed his eyes at the sudden blast of pure light coming from right in front of him. 

After the shock, he breathed a sigh of relief. There was a door just in front of him. Great, a way out. He got up, his legs doing their best to cooperate with him but still needed his arms to steady himself as the room was shaking a bit too much for his liking. He almost put his hand on the handle when he noticed a severe lack of a door handle on his side. So, this was a push door?

He tried the new theory, only to find the answer he didn’t want. No. It wasn’t budging. It was heavy, metal, and locked in. His axe wasn’t busting him through this one.

He scanned the rest of the small office room with the flashlight, maybe for a window of sorts, but no. Was he stuck here? He couldn’t be, he needed to get out. Whatever was going on, he wanted no part in it. He's not even getting paid for this shit!

There had to be something, like a hole or something he could expand-

As he was frantically brainstorming and searching the entire room, something piqued his interest. 

A vent, sizable enough he could crawl through, above some metal pipes. The only problem was its location: Far above him. But Kowalsky wasn’t known to let an athletic jump stop him.

He got up on the wooden table, and calculated the height. Not far enough, but the shaky metal shelf next to him might be able to help. Emphasis on shaky because that thing was being held together by flex tape and prayers to every known deity.

“Fuck me,” he muttered, his annoyance growing, and so did the swirling pain that was manifesting as a permanent headache. He cleared the top part, and readied himself for a leap of faith, literally. 

He quickly jumped from the squeaky shelf to the pipes, reaching out and grabbing onto one, quickly swinging his feet up. Alright, he was finally up, but he didn’t have a lot of trust in the pipes.

He put his feet up against the rusty vents, lightly kicking it, before bending his leg back before kicking with all his might.

Oh, that sounded like a bad hit for the vent… time for attempt number two. 

He redid his actions, hearing the vent take another bad hit, even knocking it semi loose. One more kick and the vents were separated from the wall and fell out the other side. 

He breathed a sigh of relief. He was at least out of the tiny room.
Kowalsky crawled through and shined the light down at the floor, seeing nothing prohibiting him from just jumping down and landing safely on the floor except for the sudden dizziness hitting him as soon as he touched the floor.

“Whoa,” he muttered, steadying himself with his arms once more, standing still till the dizziness surpassed. “Oh god, don’t throw up,” he went to the wall for support and hung his head and closed his eyes, groaning in discomfort. Too much action, too much quick movement.

He gave himself a moment to rest before gripping his flashlight once more and lighting the way out in the darkness that seemed to cover the entire warehouse, finding his discarded equipment on the floor, alongside small droplets and specks of blood. Was all of that… his? No that couldn’t be. Blood from a wound like his would not spray like that or create blood drops, at least to his knowledge. Hell, he didn’t know what type of wound he was dealing with. All he knew was that it hurt like a train crash.

As much as he’d like to take his gear with him, right now his only objective was to get the hell out of here.

He got out of the room and began the trek back to his truck, jumping on the still conveyor belt and sliding down carefully. In the midst, he stopped to listen for activity, voices, anything, signalling there were other people in there like Jim or Adam or anyone else. But there was nothing. It was just him. Had he been knocked out and forgotten about? How rude of them.

He got down to the garage where his truck still was, and very little light managed to emit from the closed garage door, but it was faint, and Kowalsky guessed it wasn’t exactly midday anymore, and he had been in that room for some time. He spotted the button that Jim had been pressing when letting him in and clicked it, waiting for the garage door to open with the same ear piercing sound of metal against metal, but nothing happened. He attempted again, but nothing. He tried holding the button down, but still no result. He had to face the facts: everything in the warehouse was down. No power. 

Fuck. How was he getting out now? The door didn’t seem like something he could break open, no matter how old it was.

If this building was like other big work places, the power and generators could usually be found in the basement, maybe that was the same for this place.

He left the garage and walked up the flights of stairs once more, and shined his light around the big room, meanwhile going through the building’s inner layout from his blurry memories. If he recalled correctly and this wasn’t a fake memory, there would be a big printed text saying “POWER SUPPLY” on a wall with a pair of stairs leading down. Low and behold, he wasn't remembering incorrectly. To the right of the entrance it was, behind the place with the truck and paintings. 

He made his way over there, still on a look out for nearby movement or anything, but nothing was happening. He had an eerie feeling that was lingering and wouldn’t leave him, no matter what he told himself.

He ascended down the stairs, finding a sign that pointed to the generator’s location. Great, things were finally going somewhere. He continued into the darkness, his flashlight being the only source of light in the entire building. He found more stairs, yay, this time they were smaller and had a warning from above encouraging you to bend down to avoid hitting your head. Wonder how many times people have forgotten about that.

Kowalsky crouched down to avoid damaging his head even further and crept down the stairs, feeling almost relieved as he was nearing his destination, hoping to finally go home.

His relief was short lived as an abrupt ray of bright light was shone in his direction, blinding him and causing him to shield his face from the unwelcomed rays. A metal click accompanied the light as soon as Kowalsky shielded himself.

“Move and I’ll blow your head off,” a familiar voice with an Italian accent demanded. Kowalsky’s panic changed to surprise instead and he carefully moved his arms to try and look at who was pointing a gun at him. 

“Jim?” he blurted out, forgetting he was told not to use his first name anymore.

The mob boss seemed to finally register who he was holding at gun point and lowered his weapon, staring at Kowalsky bewildered.

“Kowalsky?” He asked, not believing his eyes. “Thought you died,”

“You’re one to talk,” the janitor quickly clapped back, his eyes landing on a big darkened area on Jim’s pants with a small hole ripped in it. Was that blood? Had the mob boss been shot? It would seem so, as the man was barely standing on that leg.

“Kowalsky, where have you been?” Jim asked, cutting to the chase. 

“In a closet,” he answered with no hesitation. “Jim what the fuck is going on?”

Jim moved past Kowalsky, flashing his light up the stairs like he was searching for something, or someone.

“Jim,” Kowalsky said more sternly, finally directing his attention back to him. “What’s going on?”

The mob boss once again didn’t react and instead was just staring, making direct eye contact with the ever so confused janitor, a bit too long for Kowalsky’s liking.

“... What?”

“Keep your eyes open,” Jim instructed and raised his flashlight and shined it directly back into Kowalsky’s eyes. The man couldn’t help but blink a few times, startled, before forcing himself to have them open. 

“Hm,” Jim hummed. 

“What?” The janitor asked for clarification for a third or fourth time, he was losing track by Jim not answering him and brushing him aside. 

“I think you got a concussion,”

Kowalsky scoffed, not surprised. “I feel like I got a concussion,” he informed him.

“What happened to you?”

“Hit in the head,” Kowalsky answered before turning his head quickly, showing off whatever wound he was walking around with. Jim’s face was priceless afterwards, stunned. “Now please, what is going on?” if Jim wasn’t answering again, Kowalsky would just find a spoon and start digging his way out.

Though to his surprise, Jim sighed. “It turns out the building had not been cleared thoroughly enough before I came. Two people had managed to stay hidden, and those two people want me dead,”

“And I guess me too, because… ?”

Jim shrugged. “You were here? Not quite sure of your involvement yet. Pissed someone off recently?” he really wasn’t surprised when Kowalsky’s reply was a single pointing finger at him. “Real funny Kowalsky,” Jim sarcastically congratulated before continuing explaining what went down. “I went down the elevator after I heard you get cut off on the walkie and found one of them, you were gone, probably having just been shoved in a closet. Them not killing you straight away may mean that they aren’t here to cause utter mayhem,”

“They’re just after you.” Kowalsky guessed. 

“Yeah,” Jim took a step back and leaned up against the wall, probably to try and relieve his injured leg of some weight.

“Is there a reason they’re not dead yet? Assuming they’re still alive, that is,” Kowalsky asked. He didn’t know if Jim already had thrown the culprits into a paper shredder or something.

“They got the upper hand when they shot me in the leg. Shot back at them and managed to get a couple of hits on them, but they fled, taking the access cards to the different building functions, like the mechanical doors and the fucking lights. I went down here to see if I could do some magic with the generator, but alas,” he signaled to the generator that had a red button shining. 

“So… no way out?” Kowalsky asked.

“Not unless we get our hands on the cards,”

“That are currently… where?”

“Probably where they escaped to. Up, in my office. Problem being that the elevators are off, so we can’t get up there that way,”

“You make it sound like there is another way up there though?” 

Jim smirked like he had a trick up his sleeve. “There’s a metal crane control next to my office with a ladder. However, I can't get to it because someone raised it,” his eyes slowly glanced at Kowalsky, an idea forming in his head. “But if I do recall, you’re not bad at jumping to things,”

Oh Kowalsky could tell where this was going, and he wasn’t liking it, but if it was their only option before getting backed into a corner and getting shot, then he’d do it. 

“Where is this stupid ladder?”

-----

Finding his way to the place Jim mentioned was difficult when you put in the fact that the place is pitch dark. Kowalsky didn’t even have his flashlight as Jim took it to fool the people into thinking he was somewhere else. Kowalsky still didn’t like that as he bumped into a few things, like railings and containers. None of it really helped his headache.

He walked into the container area, really grateful he didn’t have to clean it right now, as based on the smell, the place was filthy. He didn’t have to see the floor to know it was covered in a layer of blood due to the sudden slip he had to catch himself on.

What a blood bath.

Following Jim’s instructions, he walked straight forward, arms outstretched to make contact with the wall and then followed it to his left, eventually finding the base of the aforementioned ladder. He jumped and stretched his hand as high as he could to try and figure out how high up it had been pulled, feeling nothing.

“Alright, time to be a pro athlete,” he murmured before getting ready. He stepped back before running towards the wall and jumped, using the wall next to him as a stepping block, and managed to feel something that resembled a step on a ladder and grabbed on.

Okay, he found it, probably. Now to- oh.

Just with a little tug, the ladder somehow came loose from its stuck position and slowly got pulled downwards. 

Once he touched the ground with his foot, he carefully let the ladder hit the floor and let go of it. Then needed a moment to stand up straight, letting the colors in his eyes fade before he moved another muscle.

The ladder was secure.

Now to find Jim, wherever that man had gone to. Thankfully he found him when retrieving his discarded equipment in the control room, sitting on a chair, watching over the room with his gun in his hand. A very welcoming sight.

“Ladders down,” Kowalsky informed, making sure to keep his voice on the low.

“Good. Grab your gear and head to your truck, you’ll know the coast is clear when the door opens,” Jim replied, voice low as well, but it more or less sounded like he was tired and worn as opposed to doing it on purpose. “Take the rest of the day off, but you’re coming back tomorrow.”

“I expected as much,” Kowalsky admitted, bending down to gather his abandoned gear. “So, what’s your plan? Planning to go all Wellness on them?” His little inside joke managed to earn him an amused chuckle from Jim. 

“Something like that,” he answered, pushing himself up from the chair and walking past the janitor and out. Kowalsky watched him leave, amazed how he was walking so well with a fresh bullet wound in his leg. Guess that man was made of something else.

He got his stuff and made his way back to his truck, leaving only his flashlight, wherever that thing was. Thankfully he has spares at home, it just so happens that one was his favorite.

He found his truck where he left it. Barely illuminated by any light.

“I think I’m starting to develop nightvision,” he mused, swinging his stuff up in the back alongside the bagged up bodies and trashbags. Gonna have to dispose of those before he heads to the ER for his wound. He wondered what kind of excuse he could use. Ah yes nurse, I got hit in the head by a person who’s trying to kill my boss who’s also in the mob. Mind patching me up?

Yeah that wouldn’t work.

He thought he would be out of there soon. He was putting the cover on the back when something unfamiliar touched him. Although, it did actually feel familiar after all. Cold and metal, pressed up against his back firmly.

“Don’t move, Kowalsky,”

-----

That ladder climb could not have been more agonizing, that leg is going to be the death of him.

He managed to pull himself up to the platform and listened around, leaning up against the wall for support. No footsteps around, no gun clicks or shushing each other. It was silent, either that or his hearing was getting worse, and he didn’t know which outcome he preferred. 

He left the crane platform and made his way down the hallway to his office, firmly gripping the gun in his hand. 

As he got closer, he finally managed to hear something. It was like someone was flipping papers further ahead, inside his room.

Jim wasn’t a fan of people going through his stuff, especially not when they shot him in the leg, really just adding insult to injury.

He cracked a little smile at that thought. He should stop being around Kowalsky too much, his poor humor is infiltrating his mind.

His office was dark, only slightly illuminated by a small source of light barely making its way out into the hallway through the door, and much less the window with its completely closed blinds.

He carefully treaded up to the door, silently as ever, and slowly tilted his head to peek inside. 

Someone was there, but only one, and it wasn’t John, it was the culprit who snuck up on Jim and got a hit on his leg, and it was just the person he suspected.

He had him back to the door, a rookie mistake that would be his eventual downfall. Jim stood in the doorframe observing for a second. The intruder was standing at the end of his table, leaning up against it while reading through some of Jim’s confidential papers, mainly filled with blackmail material and evidence and off-limit knowledge of all his workers in the warehouse. 

The small lightsource came from the person's phone, which they had shining directly onto the paper to read.

Finally he saw the gun he had, placed on the table behind him, trying to hide from Jim’s view but was unsuccessful.

Finally, a plan was forming in his mind.

“Reading up on your assignment, Adam?” Jim asked, very casually while trying to hide the prevalent pain stemming from his abused leg.

Adam’s entire body flinched at Jim’s question, freezing afterwards for a couple of seconds, his mind probably trying to come up with an excuse, answer or even a plan. Jim didn’t have to see the kid’s face to know what he was planning. In a split second, the kid dropped his phone and went for his gun, exactly like Jim expected, so he raised his own and fired, hearing a scream before the ringing filled his ears. 

The gun was tossed away and a spray of blood painted his desk alongside computer monitors.

“Fuck!” Adam shouted, gripping his own hand, tending to it, or what was left after Jim’s shot. The bullet had made an impact at the base of Adam’s fingers, directly blowing the pinky off, and leaving the riddle finger to hold on with a tear of flesh, which easily could be pulled off. Blood started squirting out and on the carpet and down Adam’s hand. He reeled back in pain, looking at his hand in disbelief as he collided with the drawer behind him and sank to the floor, gasping for breath out of panic. He muttered words, incomprehensible to anyone but him.

Jim let the kid calm down, as questioning an individual seconds after getting their limbs blown off often resulted in questionable answers. Thankfully, Adam did the work for him.

“Fucking dick!” he shouted, enraged and in clear pain, his face pale with shock. “Son of a cheap god damn whore-”

Jim pointed the gun at him and clicked the safety off. “Watch the language unless you want to say goodbye to the other fingers too,” he warned.

Adam heeded the warning and his insults ceased. He took a few deep breaths before he had enough energy to speak calmly. “John said he’d take care of you,”

“Well unfortunately for you, you believed him,” Jim answered, not even knowing John was looking for him. Well, he knew, but he always thought that.

“How did you even get up here? We turned the power off, the elevators should not be working!” Adam demanded, completely oblivious to the second entry to the third floor.

“Oh, they aren’t working, I just have my ways,” Jim answered. He grabbed one of the chairs within his reach, spun it around and sat down, using the back rest as an armrest instead, somehow seeming very confident, but in truth, his leg needed a rest. “So, Adam,” he began speaking. “I’ve been collecting all the niche little clues I’ve been given all this time, and I'm pretty sure I’m starting to have everything down. All I need right now, is a simple answer from you… Who is John?” 

With all the evidence and facts, Adam was on his list of most suspected, and now that he was here, it was the final piece of confirmation, but John? He had no idea. Obviously John feels like Jim had wronged him, but he doesn’t know how. 

Instead of answering the question, Adam seemed more in favor of drawing out the time and avoiding answering the mob boss. “What clues?”

Jim’s expression could only be described as him physically asking “Are you serious?” with him raising an eyebrow and squinting his eyes. “Clues? How about the bullet casings? Belonging to the guns you people are supplied with. How about the amount of times where your location has been unknown to anyone?” As Jim listed the first couple of clues, he could sense that Adam thought those things wouldn’t give him away. And he was right, they wouldn’t, but they were great stepping stones into narrowing Jim’s viewpool of possible suspects. So, he continued. “It also wasn’t hard to guess which of my men had visited the pizzeria that night,” Adam’s expression changed to astonishment. “After all, all my men have heard about the guy famous for emptying a single magazine into one victim, and those ladies… definitely your work,”

Adam tried to speak up, but if there’s one thing Jim has gotten pretty annoyed by recently, it's being interrupted. He quickly pointed the gun up, indicating for the kid to shut his mouth, which he did. “And don’t think I don’t know about you and John visiting Tyler Novak’s place, trying to clear your tracks after making a mistake on your guy’s end,”

Adam’s eyes darkened, not at the mention of his friend, but at the thought. “Tyler had a problem with shutting up,”

Jim nodded. “That he did, and I’m sure a certain pissed off janitor will be delighted to know who killed him,” he teased, getting almost excited at the image of seeing Kowalsky really rage out.

Adam however, rolled his eyes with the mention of Kowalsky. “That fucking janitor…” he muttered. Yup, Kowalsky being at the pizzeria had definitely messed up the men’s plan of getting Jim caught. One of the first instances of the men’s clumsiness. Speaking of so;

“Oh right, almost forgot,” without Adam even registering what Jim was doing, he heard the gun shoot and a blinding pain shot through his body, stemming from his left shoulder. His unharmed hand stopped tending to the wounded fingers and instead started applying pressure to the new wound and trying to keep the blood in, no matter how badly it all hurt. “Don’t even think I forgot about your attempt on killing my daughter and have it look like an accident,” Jim spoke, his voice low and very clearly pissed off. Sure, his daughter was young and didn’t want to rat out her friends like a snitch, but she knew it was vital. Sure as fuck didn’t stop her from still being around him, but she excused it as her keeping an eye on him alongside their other friends.

Adam bent over while groaning in pain, clutching his shoulder, his sleeve now covered in a shade of dark red, and it wasn’t stopping. He heard Jim speaking, but couldn’t form a sentence for a while due to the new blinding pain in his body. He glared back up at Jim, knowing he couldn’t do anything and was cornered. 

“Trust me Jim, everything else was business only. Amber? That was just personal,”

Adam flinched and squirmed away as Jim got up on his feet in a swift motion and walked over to him, grabbing him by his throat, lifting him up and slamming him into the wall with a powerful push. Adam grunted at the impact and held onto Jim’s arm with his good hand, covered in blood, as to not to choke while being held.

“I answered your question Adam, now answer mine. Who is John?” Jim demanded an answer, tightening his grip on the kid’s airway, making Adam choke out in shock, but he wasn’t giving in.

“As long as I… don’t give you answers, I’ll be alive,” Adam coughed out, almost reveling in the fact. That was until Jim brought the gun up and pressed it up at the underside of Adam’s jaw. 

“Is that so?” he mused, letting Adam think he was dead for a moment, but he was right to an extent. He needed to know John’s deal, but Adam wasn’t going to be his only way. Easiest, sure, but someone had to know something. Besides, Jim couldn’t kill the kid, at least not yet after all the trouble he’s caused. No. This kid is gonna stay alive, and he’s not gonna like it. 

After a moment of silence from Adam, Jim shrugged, and took that as an answer. “If that’s what you really want,”

-----

“Don’t move, Kowalsky,” an unfamiliar voice demanded, poking a gun into Kowalsky’s back, directly by his upper spine. 

Kowalsky had frozen in place and instinctively raised his hands, immediately not following the simple instructions given by the stranger, but the man didn’t seem to mind. 

If Jim’s theory was right, these men didn’t really want Kowalsky dead the most, so either they had gotten to Jim, or they decided Kowalsky had lived long enough. 

“What do you want?” Kowalsky asked, trying to remain calm and silence his pounding heart. Doesn’t matter how many times she’s been put in this situation, it never gets easier.

“I want answers,” the man replied, and Kowalsky recognized that tone; tiredness. The man sounded worn but still determined. 

“What kind?” he inquired.

“You know which ones,”

“Not really-” Kowalsky’s response was abruptly interrupted by a swing to the back of his head, where his wound was, with the presumably loaded gun. He stumbled away from the man, grabbing onto the side of his truck for balance as he put a hand on the hit to try and ease the pain. As he turned, he was face to face with whoever that man was. It wasn't anyone he recognized, but the man sure did recognize him to some extent, with the burning hatred he could sense behind the tired eyes.

“Let’s try this again. What do you know about Big Jim?” he demanded.

Kowalsky expected a question he could answer, but this one felt like a trick of some kind. He blinked a few times before giving a weak answer. “He’s… Italian?”

The stranger didn’t seem satisfied however. “And?”

“And… I uh…” he paused to let a sudden headache pass through his head like a storm. “Can you be a bit more specific? I’m not entirely sure what you’re after?”

“You’re the cleaner, you should know more than anyone,”

Kowalsky would chuckle amused if he didn’t think it would agitate the man currently pointing a gun at him. “Jim has made it very clear to me, I’m just the cleaner, and that’s what I’ll do. I honestly don’t know a lot,”

“You know he kills innocents,”

Kowalsky nodded, playing along. He had honestly yet to see Jim kill someone who wasn’t involved in the mob, not to give the man any credit. He was still an ass.

“Knowing that, you continue to work for him,” the stranger spoke, his assessment not far from a based up assumption. Kowalsky would have interjected if the stranger hadn’t continued. “Is the pay really that good Kowalsky? Worth it all?”

At that, Kowalsky narrowed his eyes at the man. He seemed like he knew so much, but really, he knew very little. With all the confidence the man was spewing, it was almost irritating how he acted correct.

“I don’t work for Jim because I want to,” he clarified, getting the stranger’s attention. “It was made very clear I didn’t have a choice if I wanted to live,”

“You don’t seem all that distraught over it,” the man remarked. That conclusion was almost true, if only the man could see what Kowalsky was experiencing in his dreams.

Kowalsky took a deep breath, preparing to explain to this total stranger the reason for why he’s come so long without breaking down. “Trust me, I feel awful. I’ve cleaned up crime scenes of both the victims and abusers, people who should've gotten justice, and others who should have seen it. I even lost a friend,” he paused, looking the man in his eyes. “But I’m not doing it for me. I haven't died yet, I haven’t broken down completely, all for her.”

“Her?” the stranger echoed, surprised at the mention of a ‘she’ in the conversation at all. 

“My daughter,” he answered, taking note of the stranger’s eyes softening. “She’s not well, and I’m the only one left to cover the payments,” he explained, his mind flashing back to earlier that day at the hospital, his possibly last moments with her. Almost free of debt, just so she could get started on her treatment once again. 

Kowalsky stared at the stranger, waiting for a response or another remark, but he was silent, his arm relaxing but still being pointed, just with less determination.

“I’m sorry for your daughter,” he spoke, looking away for a split second before returning his glance to Kowalsky with a bit more certainty. “But my daughter deserves justice as well,” he clicked the gun, Kowalsky assuming that was him removing the safety, ready to put a bullet through his skull.

“Your daughter?” He asked, hoping to maybe stall the guy, or make him change his mind. “Who are you?”

“The name’s John, but I doubt that’ll ring any bells, but the name Tammy might.”

The name hit Kowalsky like a hidden memory. Tammy. The waitress that had been shot at Mateo’s Pizzaria. Her dad had gotten involved with the mob all for her? Tracking down the mob boss who killed her- wait, was Jim the one to kill her? He seemed completely oblivious to her presence in the alley. Was John after the wrong guy or just the guy who caused his daughter’s death to be a butterfly effect?

“Tammy?”

“Yeah, you should remember her. After all, you were the one who cleaned the place up and probably threw her body into a pigs den with no care in the world,” John spoke, somehow getting the idea of a pigs den right, but not how Kowalsky handled Tammy’s body after leaving the pizzeria. She was one of the few who avoided that place.

“Listen, I’m really sorry about your daughter, but-”

“Don’t try to make any excuses, Kowalsky. Nothing you say can undo your actions. You may not have killed her, but you were complicit in hiding her murder, which is almost, if not, worse.” John stated, angrier than before, and Kowalsky agreed with him if he was honest. He knew the truth. He wasn’t that great of a guy.

“I’m not making excuses, not for me and not for Jim. Just thought there was something you’d like to know,” he caught the man’s attention, letting him continue. “I buried your daughter.”

John looked at the janitor, a loss for words. He hadn’t expected that from him. “You… buried her? Where?”

“Got a map?”

“Just tell me,”

“... She’s in the northwest forest, down by the river,” Kowalsky answered.

John nodded, like he was writing down the vague location in his mind. “Thank you,” he muttered, and by the sound of it, Kowalsky almost thought he was going to get out of here unscathed. That was until John clicked a part of his gun, setting off alarms in Kowalsky’s mind. “Now turn around.” he instructed, his final intention being clear as day. 

Fuck, was the only thing Kowalsky could think of, repeating the same word over and over again in a panic, feeling his heart speed up with every repetition. He couldn’t be serious, surely he wasn’t going to-

A new but very familiar voice interrupted his thoughts. “You don’t want to do that, John.” 

Kowalsky breathed a heavy sigh of relief, almost like he had been struggling to breathe properly for the entire duration of him and John’s chat. John meanwhile, got startled and diverted his attention away from Kowalsky and instead into the darkness of the garage, pointing the gun around, searching for the source of the voice.

As if on cue, the lights up the stairs lit up, alongside the one lightsource for the garage, illuminating everything, and blinding the men whose eyes had gotten accustomed to the darkness. 

And there the man was, standing in the doorway leading to the stairs that go up into the warehouse, leaning up against the doorframe, arms crossed, looking unharmed since last time Kowalsky saw him.

“Why not?” John questioned. “Would it be too much trouble for you to find someone else to clean up for you?” His question was meant to irritate the man, but Jim only smiled, somehow very calm and nonchalant about the whole thing.  

“Come on John, leave the janitor out of this, you don’t want to sink to that level,” Jim spoke. “Or do you? Do you want to kill a little girl’s dad?”

Kowalsky immediately saw what strategy Jim was using, so did John seemingly. Squinting his eyes warningly at the mob boss, like telling him to shut up, but no words made it out.

Kowalsky saw John had given his whole attention to his boss, and decided he wasn't comfortable being close to the guy who almost killed him, execution style. He quietly and carefully slipped away, leaving Jim to deal with the man. 

“I hear your daughter is pretty much set for life,” John commented and Kowalsky noticed a flicker of Jim’s eye at the mention of his daughter, trying to remain calm and in control. 

“John, stop trying to draw people who have no involvement into this,” he looked directly at the muzzle of John’s gun. “And maybe try to aim the gun at the person responsible,”

“I am.”

“You are?” Jim scoffed. “That’s interesting,”

“Why?” John demanded, as his patience for the mob boss was running out.

“I don’t usually use these,” Jim explained, holding up his own gun briefly to showcase. “I’m much more into Tommys, much more reliable than a simple pistol. And if I recall correctly, there wasn’t a single bullet that could fit my tommy at Tammy’s body, unlike the men inside the restaurant,”

Anger rose in John’s body. “You’re lying!”

“Maybe,” Jim shrugged, somehow not defending himself. “But Kowalsky was there, and that man wouldn’t hesitate to tell the truth if it meant getting me in trouble,” Jim eyed the janitor who was slowly trying to remove himself from the situation, stopping when John quickly turned his head to look at him, gun still on Jim. They locked eyes, John trying to determine if Jim was lying or not, and was now waiting to see how Kowalsky reacts. 

The janitor froze, caught off guard by all the attention suddenly on him. 

“Isn’t that right Kowalsky?” Jim asked, really just urging Kowalsky to speak.

He looked John in the eyes as he gave his answer. “He’s being honest, John. He didn’t have any idea your daughter was even out there,” 

For a moment, Kowalsky saw a moment of confliction in the man’s eyes, as all the evidence was piling up. The realisation was dawning on him; Jim hadn’t killed his daughter, but Jim himself had to ruin it.

While John’s head was turned, Jim had walked closer. “Your daughter was killed and used as a trail, trying to get me caught,”

John snapped his head back to him, startled seeing how close he had gotten without him noticing. The man seemed more confident when there was a greater distance between the two. John wasn’t a small man at all, but compared to Jim, he wouldn’t win a fight.

“The guy you want to see is upstairs,” Jim informed, heavily implying who John really needed to speak to. He walked closer, his hands now in his pockets, showing no weapon in his grip, seeming friendly. But John’s guard wasn’t completely down. 

“John,” Jim said, his voice low and authoritarian. “Put the gun down, and we’ll just have a talk.”

His talking seemed to affect the pained father a bit, plus the promise of just having a talk with the man instead of a scuffle. Kowalsky had never witnessed the man be so… non-violent for a change, seeking deescalation instead of blowing people’s brains out. But the man might have a whole other plan.

John looked at the lethal weapon that was pointing at Jim’s chest, pondering, like he was unsure of Jim’s promise. After all, what would stop the man once the gun is lowered?

John thought of that too, and narrowed his eyes. “No,” he replied in a low tone, and clicked his gun to shoot. Kowalsky was so sure he was about to witness an actual murder take place, see blood and pieces of flesh splatter across the floor, and see a body collapse to the floor, but it didn't happen. Instead, the next few seconds were silent and both Kowalsky and John looked confused, but Jim didn’t look the least bit surprised.

“Wha-” John couldn’t finish speaking before Jim grabbed the front of the gun, leaned to the side and out of the gun’s direction, and swung a closed fist directly into John’s face, surprising the man and sending him stumbling backwards into the back of Kowalsky’s truck, using it to steady himself and immediately tending to the hurt everywhere on his face.

Jim didn’t give the man a second to rest. He used his arm to pin John in his place, pushing him against the walls of the trunk, before using the man’s own gun as a close range weapon, hitting the man twice in the face with it, John groaning at each impact, only pausing as he heard a nasty crack on the second impact. From the looks of it, John was already out. Eyes closed, face bruised, a busted lip and nose running with blood. It all happened so fast, the man just looked like he was trying to keep up with what was going on.

Jim raised the gun and pressed it directly up against John’s forehead, letting John have a good look at his own gun before placing his finger on the trigger, smirking down at John, before pulling it. John flinched and closed his eyes, but he was still here. 

Kowalsky figured out what was going on. 

“If you want to shoot someone John, at least remove the safety,” Jim taunted the man, showcasing by clicking the safety off and turning the gun away quickly, pressing the trigger and letting a shot ring out, away from the men, before returning it back to the man’s forehead. 

John glared at him, like he was challenging Jim to do it, to just get it over with, and Jim would have gotten it done, if John wasn’t suddenly reminded of a weakness of Jim’s. 

He bent his leg, and kicked his foot down hard on Jim’s bloody and aching thigh with a still fresh bullet wound and Jim’s body stiffened, his face following suit with a pained expression. He pressed the trigger, but John had already managed to loosen Jim’s arm away from him and tilt his head away, avoiding getting shot dead. Alongside the sound of the shot was the shattering and scattering of the glass that the bullet went through, the glass being from Kowalsky’s own truck windows, the back one being one touch away from falling apart, and the front somehow stopping the bullet, keeping it lodged in its thick frame.

Jim stepped back by the kick, gripping his own thigh to reduce the swelling that came back in full force, gritting his teeth.

John may still have his ears ringing from the close gunshot, but that didn’t stop him from charging up to Jim and swinging a fist back at him, payback for the blue bruises on his face. Jim took it, not paying it as much attention as his leg pain, leaving John with another chance to hit him, but Jim wasn’t letting another fist hit his face. Using his arm, he redirected John’s fist away from him, but this gave John a new chance to survive. He grabbed the gun Jim was holding, directed it away from him and tugged at it. Jim wasn’t letting go however, so John kicked his knee up to the same injured thigh again. 

This time, Jim shouted and staggered backwards, irritated and in pain, blood starting to aggressively fall from the wound like it was seconds fresh. “Ai!”

John managed to dig the gun out from Jim’s grasp as he left his space. He put space between the two, just so Jim couldn’t reach for the gun like before, and so John could just pull himself together to shoot, safety was off and there should still be bullets left in the chambers if his numbers were correct. So, why didn’t he just shoot the man? He may not have killed his daughter directly, but his existence was definitely a leading cause, and he wasn’t going to get his revenge it seemed, assuming Jim did the thing to Adam that he always does; killing them. 

He wouldn’t have hesitated, if the damn janitor wasn’t accidentally standing between the two. He hadn’t moved, frozen while the scuffle was happening. Jim hadn’t moved to use Kowalsky as a cover either, the man had reflexively searched for a stable wall or object to lean against. He wasn’t even looking at the father either. 

Kowalsky and John’s eyes met, both talking with their eyes. 

John, trying to persuade himself to pull the trigger, and Kowalsky, understanding where he came from but still begging him to stop.  

“God dammit,” John muttered. He raised his forearm and shot. 

Kowalsky would’ve thought he’d died if not for the sound of glass shattering in the darkness, followed by hurried footsteps and a door somewhere. 

John had shot the one light in the garage, and had run out. Kowalsky and Jim’s eyes were back trying to adjust to the pitch darkness. The janitor didn’t move. Honestly scared of moving a muscle. There had been too much gun gameplay for one day for him, he wasn’t used to any of it. God fucking dammit, he just wanted to clean so he could sleep and spend time with his fucking daughter, instead he almost died like 3 times and is going home with a hole in his head. 

-----

A stream of hard light suddenly got pointed directly in Kowalsky's direction. He would say he got blinded, but at this point he’s been blinded so many times today his eyes didn’t care.

Kowalsky glanced over, seeing Jim pointing his lost flashlight at him. “He’s gone,” Jim stated almost with a hiss.

Kowalsky nodded, finally knowing the coast was clear. He leaned back over to his truck, grabbed onto the side of it, and let his legs turn to jelly under him as he sank to the floor, catching his breath he didn’t know he’d lost.

Jim stared, contemplating, before following suit but with a bit more finesse, sitting down and resting his very injured leg. 

Kowalsky figured this was as good a time as any to ask a question he’s had on his mind this whole time. “Why didn’t you shoot?”

Jim didn’t seem like he expected Kowalsky to ask any questions, caught off guard by the man speaking. He raised an eyebrow, asking for further clarification.

“In the beginning? When you-”

Jim interrupted him by reaching into the back of his pants, pulling out his gun that he arrived with. Clicking it, turning the safety off, and pointing it away from the both of them, and clicked, again and again and again. No bullets were shot.

Kowalsky gave a half hearted chuckle. “The mob boss ran out of bullets,” 

Jim didn’t seem to mind the mild tease and nodded along, maybe even finding the irony funny in hindsight. “It seems I have miscalculated,” he confessed.

And this was the man who was helping Elena with her math homework, Kowalsky mused to himself. 

“... Is he?” Kowalsky guessed.

“Dead? No, but he definitely wishes he was.”

The janitor made a sound of surprise.

“Shocked?” Jim asked. 

“Sorta, you’ve never really left anyone alive at any place you’ve shot up,” Kowalsky noted. “And the one guy you wanted to interrogate died seemingly very quickly,”

“He was weak,” Jim excused himself, probably trying to cover up the fact he accidently killed a guy too quickly for his own liking. He directed the attention back upwards again. “He’s only out cold, will probably be for a long while. Which reminds me, was it bleach or dish soap that should be poured down his throat? I may have forgotten the specifics,”

Kowalsky stared at the man confused and tilted his head. What was he talking about? 

“Wasn’t that what you asked for? For whoever killed Tyler to get detergents shoved down their throats?”

Kowalsky stared, slowly regaining the fuzzy memories of that day at Tyler’s apartment, the only vivid thing he remembered was the image of Tyler himself. But the memory of Kowalsky and Jim’s conversation came back, and a realization finally hit Kowalsky.

“He killed Tyler?”

Jim nodded.

“... Make sure to pick the worst scented detergents you can find,” Kowalsky instructed, having a couple of choices up his sleeves. 

Jim seemed to take an odd delight in seeing Kowalsky wish pain upon someone for the second time, smiling weakly with hooded eyes like he was about to fall asleep.

“I will do my best, Kowalsky,” Jim promised. “For now Kowalsky, head home. Get some sleep, and finish off the rest of the place tomorrow. This has been… stressful,”

Kowalsky would have corrected him and said it was much more than just stressful, but he saw his chance, and took it. Grabbing onto his truck once more, pulling himself back up on his now stable feet and finding the button for the garage door, ignoring the dizziness entering his head as he apparently stood up too quickly, seeing the door being pulled up once again, both of them wincing at the sound of metal grinding against itself.

“What will you do now then? Go look for John?” Kowalsky asked, creating conversation even though he couldn’t wait to get out of here.

Jim shrugged. “He’s gone for now. I’ll be needing to… disappear for a bit,”

“Going on vacation?”

Jim shrugged as if to say Kowalsky was half right. “One needs to know when a place becomes too hot to stay in, and right now, this place is scorching hot.”

“You seem like you’ve done this before,” Kowalsky commented.

“What can I say, a lot of people want a piece of Big Jim all for themselves,” He explained, gesturing to himself in a jokey manner.

“You of all people should know you can only get so far by sweeping everything under the rug,” 

The man laughed, immediately regretting it as he gribbed his thigh. “Look who’s talking,” he still managed to speak, voice starting to turn hoarse with sleepiness.

Jim waved the janitor off and Kowalsky gave him a nod in his direction before opening the door and jumping in, thinking he really shouldn’t be driving with the hole in head and dizzy head. He sat down, gripping his steering wheel, making a plan in his head. Dispose of bodies, trash afterwards, and then visit the ER.

He made the mistake of looking back at his boss, seeing the man still on the floor, resting, left to play with the empty magazine of the gun as a plan was seemingly forming in his mind, already getting ready to be left alone. Kowalsky however gave the man a second thought, a question circling his mind. Why did the man help him? Could have easily let him get his brains blown out and taken John out using another gruesome method of his, but he proceeded to take the chance to talk down a man with a gun and had in some sense, won. Both were alive, and Kowalsky was given the freedom to just go home. 

He gripped the wheel and contemplated another plan, tapping his fingers on the leather. 

He sighed. Fuck him for still having a teaspoon worth of pity left in him.

He dug around his truck for a medkit he had stored away before opening the door and jumping out, already hating his own decision. Jim looked on confused as Kowalsky walked closer and eventually got down on his knees next to him. He opened his mouth but got interrupted as Kowalsky draped the man’s own arm over his shoulder, and placed a hand on Jim’s side for extra support as he helped Jim back on his feet. The older man was surprised by Kowalsky’s strength, heaving him up with little to no effort. He’s seen him toss bodies like they weighed nothing to him, but hadn’t experienced it first hand. 

He helped the much more injured man to a chair next to a locked off room, setting him down and receiving what he believed to be a concerned look from Jim.

“... What are you doing?” he asked, body stiff like he was preparing himself to fight once more or play off another punch from Kowalsky. 

“Helping.”

“Why?”

“Because you look like you’re about to pass out, and I don’t want to get blamed for it,” Kowalsky quickly answered, somehow giving a good reason to his impromptu decision. He opened the aid bag and found the tools he’d probably need. 

The bleeding had originally stopped a while ago, but John’s continuous kicks got the blood flowing the wrong way; out.

Jim looked on, skeptical. No way Kowalsky was actually doing that, not on him. He turned and withdrew his leg with him and away from Kowalsky, at least as far as he could get on the chair.

“I’ll pass, I can patch myself up-” Jim reached out to grab the bag but Kowalsky easily extended it out of his reach, receiving a threatening glare from Jim, but knew not to worry. What was the man to do? Kick him? That would hurt Jim just as much as it’d hurt Kowalsky.

“You want my tools, you’re getting my help,”

“No thanks,” Jim politely but sternly declined, still not trusting what on earth Kowalsky was doing. He trusted the man would put up more of a fight, but he shrugged nonchalantly.

“Okay,” he said, as if he had accepted defeat. Jim had a split second of relief, until Kowalsky walked away with the bag, out of Jim’s reach, and strategically placed it on the floor, crossing his arms and raising a tempting eyebrow at Jim, who looked none too pleased. 

He couldn’t reach, and walking was a pain as all the built up adrenaline had worn out. He sighed, tired. 

“Need help?” Kowalsky asked, fishing for Jim to tell him to continue.

The man squinted his eyes warningly. “Yes,” he answered, teeth gritted in irritation.

Kowalsky picked the bag back up and returned next to Jim, who avoided all eye contact with him. He didn’t know if it was out of anger for the man or a ping of embarrassment that he needed help from him out of everyone.

Kowalsky cleaned up the wound to the best of his capabilities, flinching when Jim’s leg would twitch, just to realize he probably touched a sore spot.

He cleaned it up well enough before he started to wrap the bandage around, covering the whole area. “Should heal faster if you just take it easy from now on. No standing on it,” he instructed, at least managing to have Jim look back at him with a tired smirk on his lips, accompanied by eyes that seemed to be ready to be closed.

“Understood mother, you gon’ give it a kiss to make it feel better too?”

Kowalsky simply replied to that remark with a sharp tightening of the bandage around the wound before tying it together to prevent it from being undone.

“Ow! Okay, okay, fuck,” Jim shouted as he bolted upwards to place his hands on the wound. Kowalsky smirked back, satisfied with his work. Jim didn’t seem all that amused however. 

“Think you’re funny, Kowalsky?”

“Very much. What about you?”

“You have your moments,” Jim admitted, missing the detail that Kowalsky tried to spin the question back on him. He’ll take the credit he can get.

Before he could open his mouth to speak, Jim groaned and rubbed the side of his temple, rubbing it like a bad headache. “Think I’m starting to see colors,” he explained, opening his eyes but ending up closing them again.

Kowalsky could patch up a gunshot and clean up a crime scene, but he was a bit clueless when it came to people who faint, so that wasn’t happening.

“Want some water?”

“Would you?” His question was more of a cover for “Yes please,” but those words could probably never leave the man’s mouth truthfully while talking to Kowalsky. 

The janitor left Jim alone for maybe two minutes before returning, cup with fresh water in hand. 

“Here you go,” He handed it over to Jim, who immediately let the water run down his throat, hydrating him. “Oh, by the way I poisoned it,”

Jim looked at Kowalsky, then back at the cup before downing the rest of the content. “How splendid. Arsenic?” 

Kowalsky nodded and had to regain his balance after being shoved away by Jim, who hadn’t shoved him due to annoyance or anything of the sorts, but seemed to crack a smile because of the janitor’s stupid humor.

“You are a very annoying individual, Kowalsky.” Jim muttered, rubbing his eyes. “... How are you feeling?”

“About what?”

“Your head?”

“What about it?”

After a quick recap from Jim, Kowalsky remembered what happened, but couldn’t say he could feel anything. Sure it got cold when a cold breeze grazed it, but the pain was manageable and not very noticeable unless something made direct contact. It even seemed like whatever blood had come out stopped a while ago. Lucky him he supposed.

Jim checked again, just to be sure Kowalsky wasn’t on the verge of death or high blood loss, but he seemed fine for now. 

“I’d still advise getting checked out at the ER,” Jim suggested, letting go of Kowalsky after his inspection of his wound. 

Kowalsky sighed, already dreading whatever bill he’d receive from the hospital. Knowing them they’d charge him 20$ for using a napkin. “Suppose I should,” he agreed, in all honesty just trying to tell himself to do it and not just avoid it thinking it’ll heal fine on its own. This is not something Elena could miss seeing next time he saw her.

He saw the man fish out his phone from his pocket, probably going to make a call. Kowalsky halted that process.

“I have a question,” he blurted out without much thought. Jim paused and raised an eyebrow, turning the phone off, silently giving him permission to continue. “If you’ve got five minutes,”

“Go on,”

“... Why help?” He didn’t need many more words to get his question across. Jim understood the question as his expression changed, thinking of an answer, like he didn’t have one at the ready. “You said it yourself. I’m not exactly on thick ice, so why not let John blow my head off? I don’t believe that you specifically need me to clean up for you. Why not just let John do his thing and get rid of me?”

Jim’s answer was instead a question, stalling for his final say. “Did you want to get shot?”

“No?!” Kowalsky found the question to be out of pocket at best and infuriating at the worst. The man was stalling. “I’m just perplexed as to why you interfered at all,”

“Can’t a man have a level of sympathy, Kowalsky?”

“Not the ones named Big Jim,” The janitor answered, getting Jim to chuckle and nod like he was correct. “So?” he urged the man, waiting for a legitimate answer and Jim seemed to sense that Kowalsky wasn’t letting it go. The curiosity always did kill the janitor.

He let out a heavy sigh and his shoulders sunk like they’ve been tense the entire time. “I…” he spoke, struggling to form an acceptable answer. “I may have overheard you and John’s conversation,”

“What? How?” 

Jim tilted his head back to Kowalsky’s tools in his truck, and the realization hit him; the walkie-talkie. He hadn’t turned it off, and he had semi, probably, very much, forgotten about it. He was very thankful for that last fact, otherwise Jim had maybe not come down when he did.

“I heard about your daughter,”

Kowalsky raised a weary eyebrow. “What part exactly?”

“The hospital bills and such,” he replied, leaving room for Kowalsky to absorb the information but not to ask questions. “I will admit, I knew she had been admitted into the hospital and it was the reason you are currently here, but I was unaware of the fact that… it was still ongoing,”

Kowalsky stared blankly at the man, stunned, but his expression looked more akin to someone who was pissed off. “... So you weren’t completely wrong about the sympathy part?” was all he could ask. When he didn’t know how to respond, jokes were the way to go.

Jim nodded. “No I was not,”

“So you went down to help, because of my daughter?”

Jim smiled, surprisingly very softly even for him. “I may be the monster in everyone’s nightmares, but even I couldn’t do that to your little girl,” he explained, his smile widening like he thought of a fond memory. “She’s adorable,”

Kowalsky found himself smiling along with him, thinking back to their last encounter in the hospital and her utter excitement at his gift. “She is,”

“Out of curiosity, what consequences are Elena going to face?” Jim asked, catching the janitor off-guard once more.

Kowalsky fumbled with his words before structuring an actual sentence. “I removed her dessert privileges,"

Jim stared, amused but not showing it. Staring at Kowalsky waiting for him to say he was joking, but he wasn’t. He sighed. Kowalsky thought he was going to start a discussion with him, but he laughed half heartedly. “I don’t think I’m one to speak, Amber never goes through with her punishments,”

Kowalsky could see that for him, Amber did seem to be dominating their conversations at the cabins, tiring her dad out and coming out a winner, sort of.

“So, what’s your plan? Calling a cab?” Kowalsky asked. He’d helped Jim get off the floor and onto a chair, and had wrapped his sore wound up. The man seemed better now, color returning to his face, so Kowalsky felt like he could safely leave the man if that was the plan.

Jim tried to flex his leg, seeing how painful it could potentially be to stand up, deeming it passable and standing back up on his feet, most of the balance on his healthy leg.

“I’ll have to make some calls to some friends, because I will not be driving a car for…” he glanced down at his leg like it was a math equation. “... Three weeks?” he estimated, either guessing or speaking from experience.

“Need a ride home?” Kowalsky shared the same surprised expression that Jim made. What just came out his mouth?

Jim looked at him, waiting for him to turn it into a joke, and Kowalsky wished he could, but he stared back, not making any excuses or anything.

“I uhh… you sure about that?” Jim asked, catching on to Kowalsky's regret, giving him a way out. 

“No… but right now I‘m not sure I even remember what street I live on, so, why not?”

Jim looked at him, concern and worry painting his face. “I just need one thing with me,” he said.

“What do you need?”

“Adam,”

Kowalsky let out a heavy sigh, knowing what he had just been signed up for. Thankfully, the elevators were operational again.

“I’ll get him, Jim- sir, I-... I’ll go get him,” Kowalsky stammered, trying to rectify his little mistake, not knowing if Jim was alright with the first name usage.

Jim chuckled and flashed Kowalsky a smirk. “Name’s James,”

Kowalsky paused as he was at a loss for words. What?

Jim- or James, whatever he went by, gave Kowalsky a moment to process, probably used to this kind of reaction. 

“James?” he repeated the name like a question, unsure if he heard him correctly.

“Hm?”

“James? That’s your real name?” he asked. 

The mob boss used air quotes around the word real. “It’s my real fake name,” he informed him. Okay that made more sense. James didn’t seem like a common italian name in Kowalsky’s mind like Alberto or Francesco.

“Alright… James, I’ll go get him,” he ran the name through, testing James’ reaction and his own feelings on the name. “Suits you,”

“Thanks,” James said, getting a playful look in his eyes. “Am I ever gonna know your first name?”

“No.”

“I believe Amber said it was Kevin?” he teased, getting a funny reaction from the janitor, who rolled his eyes annoyed, but not too bothered by the callback to Amber’s prodding.

“Yeah, no, good luck with that, James.” Kowalsky said before going on a small fetch quest to find Adam, who’s hopefully still alive.

Edit to add: Couple of drawings made by my friend that I was allowed to place in this chapter. Hope they work.

Chapter Text

Kowalsky had returned with the unconscious body of the boy, hanging from over his shoulders like it had the weight of a feather. He swung it up in the back of the truck, alongside every other body from the night, and covered it again with the cover. The man was not gentle with the body, letting Adam hit the bottom of the truck pretty hard. James looked on, surprised by the sudden carelessness the janitor was expressing, but also very much entertained by seeing Kowalsky treat someone poorly, and it wasn’t him for a change. It was great.

They drove out and James locked the place up, firmly. No one would get in until tomorrow. He’d probably need to give Kowalsky the keys because there was no way he was coming back here tomorrow again, alone, injured and on time. He was crossing his fingers in his mind, hoping that Kowalsky could figure out the simple task of locking the place up nice and tight… okay, he might need a little checkbox.

To Kowalsky’s dismay, James refused to give him the address and instead insisted he’d tell him when to turn. Two problems quickly occurred with the demand.

One, due to the “luggage” in the back, they’d have to drive outside of the city instead of driving through, making the drive even longer.

And two… James was not good at guiding him. Mainly struggling with the lefts and rights.

“Left.” Kowalsky turned the left turning signal on. “The other left,”

“What other left, James?! There’s only one left!”

The ride was long and unknowing. Kowalsky basically drove blind with a dubious navigator who was on the brink of closing his eyes for hours, but he had to resist. Forcing himself to keep his eyes open like always. He couldn’t fall asleep now, that would be rather inconvenient.

While sitting in the truck in complete silence, not much is being said other than James giving directions and Kowalsky correcting him. Soon, James’ mind began to speculate and piece things together from the events of the evening. 

Riot was orchestrated, failed, had James come to the place and try to kill him out of vengeance in one’s case, fail at that too, and then one fled while one is being brought back for a worse form of questioning. What a night. He was curious if they had planned on Kowalsky being there. They might have, considering they didn’t strike when James was alone.

At the thought of the man, he glanced over to look at him, looking away when Kowalsky turned his head. James was… confused to put it simply. Why had he helped the man at all? It didn’t make sense, nor did Kowalsky’s excuse back there. James could recognize a fake excuse when he saw one. But in his mind, Kowalsky loathed him and would not hesitate to get away from him, yet he helped him out. Now he wasn’t so sure Kowalsky hadn’t taken any real brain damage from being hit in the head. He wasn’t used to the man showing him… compassion? Definitely odd.

He wasn’t to complain however, it didn’t really seem like Kowalsky knew himself why he even asked to give him a ride. He looked at peace with it for now, but when James was messing up the directions, then he threw peace out the window and replaced it with an argument. Left is left! He’d say.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kowalsky take a glance at him.

“You doing alright?” he asked. Here he was again, checking up on him. What is he up to?

“I’m managing,”

“You look like you’re about to pass out,” he told him, honesty always following his claims. 

James smiled tiredly. “Believe me, I’m trying not to,” a part of him even wanted to close his eyes for a while, but he couldn’t. There was still so much work he needed to get done with before he could.

James turned his head to look at him, but Kowalsky’s eyes were on the road. “Don’t tell anyone about what happened today,” he and Kowalsky were not close, and James couldn’t recall how many people Kowalsky talked to on the daily, but he felt like he needed to tell the man, just in case.

Kowalsky chuckled and gave him a playful smirk. “Why? Are you embarrassed?”

James decided to play along. “Maybe a little bit,”

Kowalsky scoffed and instinctively smacked his boss. “Rude,” 

“Ow!”

“Sorry,”

-----

James could tell they were close now. The city was a good 40 minutes behind them, just how he preferred it. He’d move further if work would let him. He instructed Kowalsky to turn left for one final time, almost home. Well, one of his homes. This one he didn’t visit a lot. It was a smaller but still modern and beautiful house with 4 bedrooms, but it lacked things he preferred to have close to him. Like an armory or wine cellar. 

The good thing about this place was that it was remote from both the city, and neighbors. No one came out here, and that’s what he was banking on. 

Kowalsky parked the truck close to the house, looked at it and did a Hm of approval, probably basing it on the house's outer look. At least he didn’t utterly despise it and start insulting it like someone else had, James thought, remembering back to his daughter’s first impression of the house: Yuck.

Safe to say Amber did not like this house and didn’t visit or use it as often, which was why he picked it. He did not need his daughter to be here right now, because as much as he loved her, she was demanding, especially when it came to him and his health, annoyingly enough. She’d freak out if she saw him like this.

They stepped out of the truck, James fishing the housekeys out while Kowalsky went to the back of his truck for Adam. He got him out while James got the door open, going inside the home and turning the hallway lights on. From the entrance you could go four ways: The kitchen, the living room, the stairs to either the basement or 2nd floor. Right now, he had one destination in mind: the basement.

He held the door open for Kowalsky as he dragged the unconscious boy inside by his shirt, his care for the body diminishing by the minute. James didn’t mind as long as he was alive.

Kowalsky looked around, inspecting the inside of the house and didn’t look as impressed as he did when he saw the outside. James raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

“Are you sure you live here?” he asked, figuring out he needed to explain it further as James looked at him, dumbfounded. “Your place looks lifeless. Have you heard about this wonderful concept of colors?”

“Decorating is not on my priority list Kowalsky,” James defended himself. In reality he didn’t spend much time in the house with other people so saw little to no reason to make it look appealing other than for himself.

“Still, would it kill you to have a colored pillow?”

James decided he couldn’t stand the decor ridicule and bullying from the janitor. “Let’s just get the kid down the stairs so I can-”

He paused his sentence, and both men froze like a deer in the headlights. More lights got turned on inside, and at first James would have tried to excuse it as motion or voice activated lights, but he didn’t have those installed here. They turned their gazes up the stairs from where the light came from and spotted a familiar figure looking down upon them, and James groaned internally but put on a welcoming smile and an enthusiastic tone.

“Ambeeer,” he greeted his daughter. “How so very nice to see you here… What are you doing here?” 

His daughter had slowly descended down the stairs in her night clothes, probably was heading for bed until she heard someone pull up in a familiar truck. She looked down with shock and concern, both emotions directed at her father. Kowalsky was completely ignored for now.

It didn’t seem like the girl had registered her father’s questions, and had her eyes focused on one spot in particular. “Oh my god dad, what happened?!” 

James couldn’t put together a short version of tonight's events before Amber had raced down the stairs, skipping a few steps, and hugging her dad’s right side, avoiding contact with his injured side. James put an arm around her, trying to comfort her. 

“It’s alright sweetie, I’m okay,” he tried to soothe her, but Amber looked up directly into her father’s identical eyes. 

“Okay?!” she repeated. “You got a bloody bandage wrapped around your leg, and you’re limping like a dog that needs to be put down!”

James was stunned at her comparison, and Kowalsky let out a surprised cough, which managed to finally make Amber acknowledge his presence, and she looked livid.

“What did you do?!” she yelled, immediately blaming him. James wondered when his girl grew to be so confrontational, while Kowalsky looked on, confused as to why he was being yelled at all of the sudden. 

James suddenly remembered he could talk and should probably do so before Amber jumped the man. “Calm down sweetie,” he held an arm out, stopping her from approaching the man. “Kowalsky’s done nothing to me, don’t claw his eyes out.” He said, silently pleading at the last part. Amber seemed doubtful, but relaxed her tense state, letting Kowalsky live another day.

“Okay then, but tell me what happened!” she demanded, gripping her dad’s sleeve, not letting him go without an answer.

This was partly the reason why he went to this place. Amber hated it, so he betted on her not being here to get bossy and demanding like she always did when he got injured. He loved his daughter, don't get him wrong, but after this she was probably going to demand he’d go to bed and lecture him on being more careful next time.

James sighed, he wasn’t getting out of this one right now. “Long story short Princess, that boy,” he said and pointed at the body on the floor Kowalsky was still casually holding in his one hand. “Wanted to blow my head out but foolishly tried to take me out in the leg,” he explained further and then pointed to his bloody wound. Amber didn’t look too pleased at the information, glaring at Adam’s body with a scowl.

“Is he dead?” she asked.

“No,”

“Good.” Amber could be cold when she wanted to, and James loved his daughter for that. He could rest easy knowing Amber would be the one doing the manipulation instead of the other way around. His daughter could handle herself, and he was proud of her for that.

Kowalsky spoke up with a funny quip himself. “Damn, that leg of yours really can’t catch a break, huh?”

James stared at him, puzzled, while a mischievous smile appeared on his daughter’s face. Oh, this wasn’t good.

“What did you tell him?” he asked her, only getting a seemingly innocent smile in return from his daughter and a casual shrug from the janitor. He would ask further questions but saved it for another time.

“Kowalsky, think you can carry the boy down here?” James asked, opening the door to the stairs that led down to the dark and cold basement. Kowalsky looked down and evaluated the steps leading down, and shrugged.

“Sure,” he answered, taking the boy by the back of his shirt and dragging him over.

James thought for a moment he’d swing him up and carry him down somehow, and was surprised when Kowalsky laid the body by the first step, and pushed it down with his foot, letting the body go down each step, emitting a loud thumb each hit. Every impact being heard but slowly getting quieter as he reached the bottom.

James stared down into the depth, astounded. Amber took a peak but didn’t seem either interested or surprised. He looked at Kowalsky with disapproval, but the janitor didn’t seem bothered.

“He’s fine, I’ve fallen down worse stairs,” he excused himself.

“If he dies, I’m taking his life insurance out of your paycheck,” James warned, very much bluffing, but still needing the bastard alive.

Kowalsky read his mind however. “Oh no, not my well earned five dollars,”

James hid a chuckle and shoved the janitor’s shoulder, quietly telling him to knock it off. Amber looked on at the men’s behavior, now bearing an expression that was a pure questionmark.

James sighed before making the difficult short journey down the stairs with his leg, Kowalsky following right after asking Amber a question he was probably curious about.

“So, you don’t really care that your friend here got… brutalized?”

“What friend?”

Yup, that was a good enough answer for him and he walked down the stairs after James. The man had continued past the body and walked further into the room, opening up a side door further down a corridor. The basement was cold and only inhabited by simple spiders, really solidifying James’ absence. Well, good news for this place, he was going to stay a while. Might even make Kowalsky shut up by buying a decorative pillow.

The janitor grabbed the kid by his pant leg and started dragging the boy along, wherever James was headed, which appeared to be a smaller room with one pathetic and weak light source dangling from the ceiling. 

James saw Kowalsky’s reaction to the room which was neither judgemental or impressed, this time the man was just disturbed. He looked around the minimally decorated room that had a chair and a rusty metal pipe in the middle of it all, both objects decorated with dried blood. The rest of the room was seemingly cluttered in boxes that should be discarded and useless tools. But James knew the purpose of each item in that room, and he was going to use some of them. 

“Waow, this room is uhh…” Kowalsky paused, searching for the right word. “Different,”

James nodded proudly. “Get him up on the chair, then we’ll restrain him,”

“And then I’ll be free to go?

James was close to reminding Kowalsky that he was the one who offered his help but he held the words back and replaced them with something else. “And then you’re free to go,”

Kowalsky got the kid up in the chair and James worked on tying the hands around the armrests, and legs against the chair’s wooden legs. He made sure they were tight and uncomfortable against his skin, and hoped they’d irritate his muscles.

James turned the light off, leaving the room pitch dark before closing and locking the door. It was cold and musty, just like he planned for it to be. Kowalsky didn’t have a lot to say about the state of the room, he was the most unbothered James had ever seen him about something a lot of people considered disturbing. The man didn’t even bat an eye at it and went on as usual. He did give the kid a nasty glare before James closed and locked the heavy door.

They got back up the stairs, James having a harder time but tried to hide it, seemingly doing well, until his daughter that was waiting for them at the top, looking on in concern and a We’ll talk later look. This was the only thing James feared in this day and age: his own daughter.

Thankfully Kowalsky directed the attention to himself. “So, James, will you be at the warehouse tomorrow like today or?”

Amber snapped her head to look at Kowalsky, bewildered, but James didn’t notice at first.

“I’ll give you some keys, and I’m trusting that you’ll lock the place down properly,” James explained. Trying to dig up the warehouse keys and codes buried in his lethal weapon of all the combined keys and chains. Kowalsky seemed fine with that idea, or maybe not, he was harder to read with his constant resting face. Did the man always look this agitated?

Amber walked over to him. “Uhm, I’m sorry,” she spoke, getting her father’s attention. “... James?”

From someone else’s perspective, she looked confused as to who this James was, but he knew she was skeptical of the fact that Kowalsky was not only using his first name, but his “real” first name. Oh boy someone was going to get yelled at, and he had a feeling it was him.

“Don’t worry sweetie, It’s okay, I let him use it,” he explained.

Amber blinked at him with judgement. She wasn’t impressed.

“Really?” 

“Yes. Now Amber,” James finally found the key he was searching for. “Please go to your room for now, I’ll go get you when I’m done,”

Amber looked skeptical, eyeing the two men before doing what her father asked and walked back up the stairs, leaving them for now. James found himself sighing in relief. 

“Don’t want her to overhear?” Kowalsky asked, based on James’ reaction.

“No, I’m just avoiding being lectured by my own daughter,”

Kowalsky nodded like he could relate. 

James opened the door to the outside and stepped out, Kowalsky following him, stepping out into the dark and cold night. James saw the man shiver and reach an unsure hand up to rub the back of his head carefully. His uncovered wound was probably making it colder being out there.

His eyes suddenly lit up like he thought of something. “Oh right, before I forget,” Kowalsky spoke before walking over to his truck, leaving James on the small little porch. He reached for something in the back, jumping up and reaching out with a stretched arm, trying to grab a bottle of whatever. James meanwhile had to casually  look away as Kowalsky almost bent over his truck to grab whatever cleaning supply he was going after.

The janitor walked back over with a plastic bottle and handed it to James. “Here, use this. It's good, it's strong, and it's awful to get in your eyes,” he informed. James looked at the bottle, trying to make out what it was, deciding its title and description was too clunky and long to read so he’d just ask Amber later. Kowalsky was probably going to make a joke out of it.

“Don’t you need this for yourself? You’re very protective of your gear,” James questioned, knowing how much Kowalsky was against anyone touching his equipment, especially the soaps.

“I am, but I got more at home. I don’t suppose you got any stronger detergents below your sink?”

James shook his head, knowing that the possibility of there being any cleaning supplies right now was very slim. He smirked playfully. “I’ll make sure to clean his throat thoroughly,”

“Good,” the janitor said before crossing his arms for warmth, turning to head back to his truck to go dispose of the trash and bodies he had collected, so that he could finally go and get his head checked out.

“Kowalsky,” James called out before the man had walked too far so he wouldn’t have to yell louder. The man looked over his shoulder. “Give me a call when the warehouse is cleared, alright?”

“Alright,” Kowalsky nodded in his direction before climbing into his truck and getting it started, reversing and eventually driving down the dark road. James watched on with only one question on his mind. Does he know his way home?

-----

He got back inside, closing the door that made an audible click with the lock. He sighed and looked up the stairs, seeing what he expected; his daughter, with her hands on her hips and an angry yet stern look, determined to block his way.

Oh no.

“You’re going to bed,” she demanded.

James groaned internally, already knowing what argument was about to ensure. “I can’t-”

“Sure you can. Just go in your room, and sleep on your bed. Simple. Don’t need a tutorial to do that,” Amber retorted.

“Not now Amber,” he raised his tone, but his energy wasn’t there to support his parental voice so it lacked bite. “I’ve got things to write, people to call, clues to dig into-”

“I don’t care,” she interrupted him. “You look like you got hit by a truck. A garbage truck. A rusty one at that, driven by a grandma,”

The insult was hitting, and so was the image, but he wouldn’t tell her so. “Amber, sweetie, I am your dad. I tell you what to do, not the other way around,”

His daughter raised her eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yes.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes.”

Finally, Amber’s face slowly relaxed into her more playful and relaxed expression. A mischievous smirk and a glint of an idea flashed across her eyes. “And when have I ever listened?”

“... Never.”

“So do you think I’m going to start now?”

“... No.”

“Then go to bed!”

“Amber, I am not going to sleep right now! I can’t sleep right now because of all the things I need done!” James shouted back. Normally, whoever he shouted at would flinch and back off, but it always seemed like when he got angrier when arguing with Amber, she’d find a way to use it to her advantage. When did she get so smart?

“Dad, it's past midnight! Any work you’ll get done right now will need to be redone tomorrow, because guess what, you’re gonna be messing up a lot.” And now she was using reason to her case. He lost and he knew it, but won't admit it.

“What are you even doing here!?” he found himself asking instead, shifting topics.

Amber paused, glaring. Her brown eyes flaring up with anger and eyebrows furrowing. “Because I knew you’d try to avoid me after work because you don’t like that I force you into healthy fucking sleeping patterns!” she yelled back. “Dad, I'm not kidding about the garbage truck. You’re looking worse by the fucking day. When’s the last time you visited a barber, huh?” She asked, attention suddenly directed to her father’s beard that had been put on the backburner. So she had been paying attention. James didn’t take his daughter for someone who noticed such small things.

“Amber, I’m not going to argue with you. This is how it's gonna go: You’re going to bed, and I’m going to go do my work. I will not hear any remarks or any of the sorts, understand?”

Amber eyed her father, and he didn’t break eye contact. She was waiting and looking for a crack from her father, a twitch to let her know he wasn’t serious, but nothing changed. Her dad was standing his ground. 

She sighed, defeated, and closed her eyes and let her arms fall down her side. “Fine,” she muttered before walking off. James watched her walk away, his heart stinging him as he heard a pang of genuine sadness come from her. He held his expression until Amber was out of sight, letting out a sigh of relief once she was gone and rubbing his eyes.

God… he loved his daughter. Would and have killed for her, but when she herself was his obstacle, there was no easy solution.

“Good luck getting up the stairs!” Amber shouted from further away upstairs, clearly mocking her dad and his current state.

“Har har, Sweetie!” he called back, thinking her tease wasn’t actually going to be that big of a problem.

It was. It was definitely a painful problem. How were these stairs worse than the ones in the basement? Knowing how his body worked, these stairs would murder him the next couple of days. He needed to ask Amber to fetch some stuff from the city so he wouldn’t be utterly miserable.
He got up, but it was not without two quick breathing breaks on the steps. His daughter was right, he really needed to sleep, but he didn’t have time for that. He moved from the top of the stairs and down the hallway, pausing a couple of feet away from Amber’s door. The lights were off and he couldn’t hear any activity from beyond. Hopefully she’d done what he asked her to and gone to bed. Finally, he could get some awful work done.

-----

Well, he did not get much work done. He sat down in his chair and had just managed to get the computer working before he leaned back and made the mistake of closing his eyes for what he thought was for a moment but turns out to be for a couple of hours, completely uninterrupted. Well did he have some good news for Amber.

It did however mean he was behind, so as soon as he woke up, he got to work. Setting the computer up and opening the program he used for the different cameras around, finding the one situated in the basement, turning on the night vision feature. Nothing had changed since last. Adam was still bound and his head hung low so he hadn’t awakened yet. Good. Let the kid freeze and grow hungry, he always gets them to talk faster that way.

James went to his phone and dialed up the person he should have called… 7 hours ago? Wow he slept for a while. The phone didn’t ring for long before someone picked up and greeted James with a tone too cheery for him at the moment.

“Well, morning there Jimmy,” Smith greeted him. Great, the nickname was back. “Glad to hear back from you, thought you had died,”

“Yeah well, I almost did,”

“That’s not good,” Smith replied, as nonchalant as ever. “Can you catch me up to speed? I feel like I’m missing some crucial details right now,”

“Smith, do you know who was in charge of securing and clearing the building?” James asked, needing to know if it was someone else or if he had a good cause for yelling at the man. 

“Yeah, of course, it was one of the people in charge of that warehouse. According to my papers-"James heard Smith shuffle around with presumably paperwork on his desk. “He was one of the supervisors that survived,”

“What was his name?”

“John Doe… well, that’s unfortunate,” Smith’s voice faltered as he read the man’s name out loud. 

He sighed and rubbed the side of his head. “You hired a guy named John fucking Doe?” he asked, in complete disbelief. 

“The guy had really good credentials and references, I didn’t want to be charged with discrimination,” Smith joked. 

“I need you to get started on finding that man’s location,”

“I got it right here-”

“Location, not address. There’s no guarantee he’ll go back home after yesterday. He’s out and about, I need him found.” James knew John wasn’t the stupidest man alive, that guy resided in his basement. John didn’t seem experienced in The Underworld of the city or any place close. Probably was just a guy whose daughter was present at the wrong place and time. The man had probably also changed targets by now, hoping he listened when James told him he didn’t kill his daughter. Which was good for him, but not so good for Kowalsky, who couldn’t shift the blame onto anyone else. He hoped Adam hadn't been telling this man everything he knew, otherwise Kowalsky’s own home might be a bad place for him to be at.

Yeah, that was going to be a problem, no matter what.

“I’ll get The Mrs on her way,” Smith informed. The man had a habit of always using unnecessary codenames over the phones. Jim was a good enough option, but the man had to take another step and use Jimmy, knowing fully well anyone else would be slapped for even saying that.

Thankfully, James knew who he was referring to. 

“Thank you, Smith.”

“Anything else you need? A barber?”

That caught him off guard. If he wasn’t on a phone call right now he’d yell out his daughter’s name in frustration. Of course she’d go snitching on him.

“No, all is well Smith,” James replied, trying to ignore the jab from both Smith and Amber combined. “However, I might need you to manage everything for a little bit. I’ll be going on… a little break.”

“A break?”

“A break.”

“For a little bit?”

“For a little bit.”

Smith did not believe him and he could hear it, but the man couldn’t talk back to his boss, at least not in a way that’ll convince him to take an actual break that lasted more than “a little”. Besides, he would probably end up calling and checking up on Smith every day or so.

“I’ll make sure things are operating fine. Enjoy your vacation,” Smith promised and wished the man well, sarcasm included, before hanging up the call, leaving James on his own. 

Great, some work might get done now.

While the unconscious body in the basement kept still, James started on his work. Sending out mails as well as going through everything he’s received from the different operations and businesses. The income, status reports, and taxes from each place. Each task was harder than one would seem, but James’ reading ability was half as fast as an average person.

Until Smith got back to him or Adam woke up, James couldn’t get anywhere in the situation. All he could do was wait, do some work to pass the time and try to ignore the pain coming from his sore thigh, making it hard for him to move it slightly.

After a while, he heard an awkward knock on the door. That was not a knock by a hand.

“Doors open Amber,” he called out.

She opened the door, using her elbow on the handle and legs to push it open, and James could see why. In one hand she carried a blank mug, hot steam rising from it. In the other she held a bowl with a good amount of yogurt, topped off with granola and a couple of fruits and berries.

James thought for a moment she brought it in here to eat herself, but as she got to his table, she set the mug and bowl down in front of her dad and gave him a complimentary spoon. 

Oh. It was for him. 

James looked at her, waiting till she started to explain herself, which she always did. “I figured you hadn’t gotten anything to eat in a while, so I thought I’d bring you some,”

That was one side of his daughter no one really got to see at all; the considerate side of her. This was usually her own kind of breakfast, but a mixed and confusing smoothie replacing the coffee for herself. She must have made an extra portion for her dad.

“Amber, come here.” James instructed, asking her to come closer. She walked around his table, next to his side and bent down so she was almost face to face. He put an arm around her and pulled her closer, placing an appreciative kiss on her cheek. “Thank you Princess,”

For the first time in a while, Amber beamed at her father with a bright smile, hugging him back. “Eat up, dad.” she said before returning the favor and kissing her father’s cheek. “Will you do me a favor?”

“Depends, but I’ll do my best,” he promised, not able to predict what his daughter was scheming.

“Take a shower when you’re done.”

James laughed. That hadn’t been what he expected, he had to admit. To her credit, he definitely needed one. That didn't mean he was looking forward to it, especially not with the hole in his leg.

“I will grant your favor if you also do one for me,” James would do it without getting anything in return, but he did need her to do something. Amber’s eyebrows perked up, waiting for a task. “Will you go into town and get me some antibiotics? Just in case,”

“Don’t worry, I’ll get that for you,”

“Thank you sweetie,” he patted her arm that she had around him before she let go and walked out, probably on her way to get her keys and find her car, wherever she parked it.

James was immediately caught by the nice and calming smell of the coffee. He took one drink, shuddering as he felt his throat grow warmer. Yeah, he desperately needed that.

He ate the breakfast given by Amber, making a mental note on how nicely she had decorated it. 

Suddenly mid-meal, his phone rang. He groaned, annoyed as he was interrupted, especially knowing who was calling him this early. Smith either needed something for him, or just called to annoy him. 

“What?” He skipped the welcoming part of a phone call and went straight into demanding his reason for calling him, into the phone as he picked up, awaiting Smith’s usual “Hey Jimmy” but that didn’t greet him. Instead, he was met with a dumbfounded silence. 

“... Did our roles just reverse or is it just me?” 

Oh fuck, Kowalsky.

James would have choked on his food in surprise if he was still eating. Kowalsky calling him had already left his mind, that was his bad. James coughed to clear up the awkwardness. 

“No I just thought you were someone else,”

“Well, glad I’m not that person,” Kowalsky joked. “I finished up back at the warehouse,”

“Already?” James asked, genuinely surprised. He checked the time at the corner of his screen. It wasn’t even the middle of the day and the janitor was fully done? At this point, he couldn’t even doubt the janitor. He’s seen the man’s speed. “Completely spotless?”

“Bloodless even,” Kowalsky added, already starting with the horrible puns.

“Perfect, consider your lesson learned. Where are you calling from?” he asked, remembering Kowalsky does the reasonable thing, leaving his phone at home when he goes out to clean.

“I just got home,”

Kowalsky had since last they spoke, disposed of the bodies, gotten patched up, taken a nap, gone back to clean, and dispose of the new bodies. It hadn’t even been 12 hours at this point, how did he do all that?

James heard the desperate pleas of Kowalsky’s cat in the background, loud and clear. 

“Bastard stop,” Kowalsky scolded him. “Actually, James, I might have something you want,” He paused awkwardly when using his name, but persevered. James almost perked up at the taunt. “I’m decently sure I found a hideout of John’s,”

“You did?” James had a hard time hiding his disbelief. How had Kowalsky found it, and in such a short time?

“Yeah, and you’re never going to believe where it is,”

“Where?”

“... It's in a container,” James could basically hear Kowalsky’s amused expression through the phone, and he was honestly in his right to find it funny on some level. Pure irony at play here. 

James blinked, letting the information sink in and let the disappointment pass before he took a deep breath and continued asking questions. “You didn’t happen to find any useful things in there?”

“Does a clueboard with a picture of me and my truck count?” He sarcastically asked. That couldn’t be good. Something had gone wrong or someone had been careless. A clueboard was alarming enough, but the fact it had Kowalsky’s truck and portrait was worrisome. Where had they gotten those?

He figured he could ask Adam that later.

“Do you still have it?”

“I tore it down, but yeah I got it,”

“Good, I’m going to need them,”

“Need me to drive by with them?”

“Not today, I’ll let you know when you can come by with them. Until then, take the rest of the day off,” James announced, succeeding in surprising the janitor as Kowalsky didn’t respond back. He figured he’d try to get him talking again because Kowalsky’s silence was unnerving him. If he had to pick between horrible puns or mysterious silence, he’d pick the first one. When he was silent he always thought he’d try to swing at him again. “You remembered to get your head checked out, right?”

“What? Oh yeah, I got it checked out and patched up at the ER for-” the janitor paused and sucked in a deep breath before explaining. “Three HUNDRED dollars,”

That was it? In James’ mind that number was quite low, but if he earned as much as Kowalsky did, he might think differently. 

“Well at least you're still alive,” James tried to joke, but Kowalsky may not have found it so funny, so he switched topics. “I’m assuming you’ll be leaving to go see your daughter now?”

“Yup, just need a bath before I go anywhere. Dead bodies don’t smell nice,”

Oh James could imagine. “Say hi to the little lady from me when you get the chance,”

“Will do, James." This time, he spoke his name like he was a normal person, already having gotten accustomed to it. 

The call ended and James had to face it. He should take a page out of Kowalsky’s book and go take a damn shower, no matter how much he knew it was gonna sting. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “Alright, let’s get this over with,”

-----

The shower was at least refreshing. He kept the bandage on in the shower and planned on changing it when he’d dried off. When running his hand through his hair again, he was reminded of how his hair is really supposed to feel. Soft, smooth and healthy. 

When getting ready to resume work, movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. The monitor displaying the cameras showed movement. He was up, and from the way he glanced around, he was confused and scared. There was no light and no sense of anything other than the cold air all around him.

Good.

James decided work could wait for later, right now he needed to greet the downstairs guest.

When he approached the stairs leading to the basement, he stopped and listened to the shouts coming from below. They were muffled due to the walls and ceilings, but James could still make it out. He was screaming, demanding an audience of some kind, probably to help him try to escape. Maybe he thought he had friends close or he was somewhere he recognized. Sadly for him, he was far away from anyone who’d maybe want to help him.

He walked down, soundless as ever, approaching the heavy locked door down the corridor leading to the room. James undid the lock, and suddenly everything went silent. Adam stopped shouting, and the effect James wanted to give off was successful; fear.

He pushed the door open, standing in the doorway and casting a shadow into the semi newly lit room. 

“... Fuck,” Adam muttered as he stared at the man. 

“Hey Adam,” James greeted him, lowering his voice so there wasn’t a hint of friendliness. He turned the light on, enjoying seeing Adam flinch away from the sudden light source that was too much for his eyes as he blinked aggressively. “Sleep well?” he asked him, confidence now on his side. The situation was finally back under his control and James revelled in it.

Adam glared at him, scared but attempting to hide it. A loss for him, as James had a pretty good sixth sense for when people were intimidated by him. “How’s the leg?” He asked him, ignoring James’ taunt. He looked at the man’s injured leg and took note of how the man didn’t use it for support. 

His question was obviously just there to piss him off, but James smirked. “Still attached,” he answered and pointed with his eyes to Adam’s injured hand, which the boy didn’t appreciate. “Now, Adam,” James started speaking as he walked into the room and closed the door behind him. “Believe it or not, you have a choice. You can either cooperate and fess everything up, or-” he sat down the bottle that Kowalsky had handed him the other day on a workbench, before rummaging around quickly for a dirty glass with cobweb and layers of dust. “-You get to stay down here until I get all your blood pouring out and down the drain, and trust me, it’s a long and painful process,” he popped the childproof cap of the bottle and began pouring it into the dirty glass, finally understanding what Kowalsky meant when he mentioned it was strong. The smell was absolutely atrocious, but that probably meant it was some good detergent. The liquid coming out was a see-through blue, with the type of appearance that would make kids want to drink it.

Adam eyed the man, worry increasing by the second he saw the cleaning appliance being poured into a glass. 

“So, what will it be?” James asked as he turned around, grabbing a tool that Adam would be unable to see. “Choise is yours,”

If he could, Adam would have leaned away as the man came closer, glass in hand and arm behind his back, but the restraints on both his arms and legs made that very difficult. 

James waited for the boy to talk, but Adam only glared, determined to keep his mouth shut. “What happened Adam? I hear people had a hard time shutting you up, and now you won’t even answer me. Last chance,” he warned the boy, but he turned his head in defiance. James sighed in relief, Adam was choosing to be difficult, and he was looking forward to that. Without letting the kid register what he was doing, he showcased the tool he had grabbed, a rusty screwdriver, and plunged it down into Adam’s already wounded hand, quickly breaking the skin and going straight through the meat, narrowly missing a bone. Adam stiffened and cried out in pain, opening his mouth. James grabbed him and forced his mouth open, swiftly pouring most of the blue liquid into his mouth, much to Adam’s protest. He covered the boy’s mouth and pushed his head back, giving him a stern look. “Swallow,” he commanded. A beat skipped and Adam hadn’t drunk the liquid, refusing and looked like he was debating on trying to spit it out. Unfortunately for him, James acted first, grabbing the screwdriver again and twisting it. Adam would have screamed if not for the liquid rushing down his throat. His eyes watered and James let go after everything had been drunk. The boy’s eyes watered and he bent his head over, coughing up a storm like he was trying to retrieve the drink to throw it back up, but it was gone.

“Oh god,” he managed in between coughs that developed into disgusted gags.

James looked on, satisfied. What a fun activity Kowalsky had suggested. He’d have to thank the man later. “Done with the silent treatment, Adam?”

“Go fuck yourself Jim,”

He grabbed the glass with a small amount of liquid left, lifted it and let Adam get a good look at it before he poured it over and onto his severely injured hand. The boy muffled a scream behind his teeth, hands twitching and legs moving like he wanted to trash them around, but with the restraints, he sat still, and tried to settle his breathing as the liquid made its way in between the screwdriver and his hand. 

“Alright Adam, let’s try answering some questions,” James announced, setting the glass aside and walking on the other side of him, placing his hand on his sore shoulder, close to the bullet wound. “How did you stumble upon John? And while we’re at it, how did you convince him to come after me directly?”

Adam stayed silent as he avoided direct eye contact, but James could still sense the pain the boy was feeling by the strained hands and stiff shoulders. James tightened his grip as hard as he could with one hand, his fingers digging around the area of the wound. Adam whined at the sudden unwelcomed pressure on his shoulder, but he started talking. “He found me!”

“And?”

Adam skipped two beats, and that was too much of a break for James, who found the bullet wound and pressed a finger in. Adam cried out in pain and tried to pull himself away, but James’ hand followed and it was making it worse for himself. He did his best to ignore the squelching sounds that came from it.

“He said he wanted to help get rid of you! I was just partnered up with the guy!” he shouted, silently begging James to stop, or at least go back to a more tolerant level of pain, but he didn’t, urging Adam to keep talking until he said something that might be of use. “He said he just wanted to get revenge for his daughter and I offered him a shot!”

“You mean you lied?” James corrected him. “You killed the waitress, putting her out of sight for me but not the cops, planning on some of the neighbors spotting her. Unfortunately for you, they did, but they also saw you,” James explained, recalling back to the elderly lady shot in the head and upper torso in her own apartment window. Maybe she was meant to see the waitress later, after Adam was gone, call the police and get James in trouble, but she had reacted too early. 

Adam didn’t object to any parts of James’ retelling, instead he was focusing on steading his breath as the pain was still prevalent, but he couldn't break yet.

“You even lied to Mateo and his people, giving them an envelope, claiming it held evidence against me,” James chuckled at the memory of finding that trashy envelope in the vault next to all the pineapple cans. “There was not a single god damn thing in that envelope that could have been of use to them,”

Adam knowing that Mateo and his people would host a celebratory dinner was a lucky guess, making James wonder if someone had put him up to it. The kid wasn’t smart, street smart at best. He wasn’t working alone and was probably a part of a bigger group, but that information wouldn't be spilt in the first interrogation, he’d have to work the kid up to it.

“And then you ended up doing something so unbelievably stupid. You pissed off the janitor.”

Adam tried to place a sneer on his face, but it faltered and its intended effect didn’t work. “I heard he didn’t hold back,” he taunted with a shaky voice, clearly speaking of the action Kowalsky took when he thought James had gunned his friend down, which was punching him in the face, twice. Guess he also had Adam to blame for that. James moved his hand in Adam’s wound, penalty for getting cocky.

“So, what happened Adam? Did Tyler accidentally find out, or did you want to recruit him, and then panicked when he tried to get in contact with me first?” That part he hadn’t figured out and it wasn’t entirely important, but when has curiosity ever killed a cat?

“I thought the fucker could keep a secret, guess I was wrong,” Adam mustered, his breath slowly becoming ragged and whispery due to every nerve in his body spasming out.

James had to bite back a laugh at that. If there was one thing Tyler was bad at, it was keeping secrets. Hell, back when he first talked to him, he barely had to pry about who had cleaned Rob’s apartment before Tyler practically offered up Kowalsky’s information on a platter. 

“That you were. You greatly pissed him off as well, you can thank him for the detergent idea,” James mocked, directing attention to the bottle that now seemed to be the boy’s worst nightmare. “Well, suppose I’m done here,” 

Adam looked up confused before switching to a pained expression as James removed his hand and finger from his injured shoulder. Was the man already done with him? That couldn’t be all he needed to ask, unless-

“While you have provided me with confirmation of suspicions and answers to a few of my questions, I’m afraid your hesitant compliance is holding you back from receiving a lighter punishment,” James explained, grabbing the bottle before leaving the room for a moment, confusing the boy in the chair. Was he gone? He didn’t lock the door nor turn on the light, was that purposeful or would he return?

Adam got his answer as James appeared back in the door a minute later, a bucket in hand, weighing down his arm. What was in that-

He didn’t have time to take a peak at the bucket's content before James poured it all over him. It was water. Just water, but by god was it freezing cold. His clothes and hair quickly got drenched as the bucket hit him everywhere. If he wasn’t awake, now he definitely was. 

James looked at the now shivering boy and smiled satisfactorily. “If I hear you so much as cry down here, I’ll come back down and have you hanging upside down until our next chat. Is that understood?”

Adam didn’t have a quip or answer, his vocal cords frozen and unusable. He simply nodded. 

“Good.” and with that, he turned the light off and closed the door to the room before locking it, leaving Adam in the cold pitch dark once again, doused from head to toe in freezing cold water from the basement faucet. A couple of days of isolation and confinement in a dark room should loosen the boy up quite a bit. He needed him alive for a bit, so he couldn’t take risks in removing limbs or any of his extremes, he’d maybe go for more fingers or even his ear. If the kid’s language got any worse, he’d cut part of his tongue off and make him eat it.

But those were ideas he pocketed for next time. Kowalsky’s detergent had been a surprisingly good warm up for today, he might make it a recurring tool. The janitor did say it was painful in the eyes…

-----

He had been sitting by his computer for a while since he left Adam alone in the basement. He kept the camera on the kid, just in case, even though he was sitting quietly. Not much else to do when you're tied down.

It wasn't long before he got a notification informing him the front door had been unlocked, but he wasn't worried, this was around the time Amber would come home from her usual trip to the city for a snack or so. He heard the girl walk up the stairs and heavily assumed she was on a direct path to his office. He was proven correct when someone knocked on his door, but he wasn't given a chance to respond before Amber came charging in. A bag in her hand with things she'd presumably bought while away.

James raised an eyebrow of interest, directed at the bag.

“Dont worry, I got what you asked for,” she explained, trying to hide a mischievous smile that was appearing on her face. But James noticed. “And a couple of other things,“

He wasn't liking this. Amber was pulling a joke, that much he knew.

She walked over and sat in the spare chair James had started having in all his offices. It was either that or Amber would demand to share space with him, and he quite liked his personal bubble.

Amber opened the bag and reached around before pulling a long tool out from it, showcasing it to her father, a grin on her face, widening even further seeing her father’s response: dismay.

“Amber,” James muttered, rubbing his eyes, praying that what he was seeing was an illusion or something. “What is that?”

“It’s a cane,”

“Why did you buy a cane?”

Amber answered that with a simple glance with her eyes, towards her father’s leg. On the outside, one wouldn’t assume something was wrong with James’ leg as he had found another pair of pants to wear, and there was no sign of blood on any of his articles of clothing.

“Amber, I am not using a cane,” he stated. “How old do you think I am?”

“Old enough to be fragile,”

At that, James had to laugh, loud. That was the funniest thing he’d heard all day. “Sweetie I’ve been shot more times than you’ve had birthdays, this-” he gestured to the topic. “-Is nothing.”

Amber didn’t buy it, looking at her father with a skeptical glance. “Still, keep it. It's gonna get worse before it gets better. Isn’t that what you say?” She placed the wooden cane on the side of his desk within reach of his own grasp. James gave the cane a dismissive glare before turning to ignore it. Getting a constant smidge of support did seem like a good idea, but with Amber’s presentation, he wasn’t interested in it purely out of spite and stubbornness. He’s never needed one before, and he won’t need one now.

“If you say so. But, I also got you something to keep you entertained after work,” the mischievous smile reappeared on her face as she grabbed another item from her shopping bag, James now fearing for his life. His worries eased a little as he saw her pull out a simple hardcover book, but they came back ten fold just by the sight of the cover. 

Amber placed it on his desk and James looked at it like she had dropped a pile of organs. “Amber… explain yourself,”

His daughter was doing her best to not break out and cry of laughter, maintaining a weak composure. “Well, you know, I thought you’d need something to do when you’ve got so much time to kill. I found this book and figured you could have a fun time with it,” she managed to speak, snickering in between words.

On the cover was a man in his 20s, very fit, with a defined jawline and was wearing a straightened suit, hanging an arm around a woman at least a head smaller than him, clinging to his chest. Big white letters gave away the book’s title: Gifted to The Mafia.

Amber was slowly breaking the chair, not able to hold her laughs and giggles back any longer after seeing her father’s almost pained expression. “God,” she managed in between laughs. “I wish I had thought of this sooner, this is hilarious,”

James stayed silent, regretting all choices he’s ever made in the moment. He should’ve just asked Smith to get him stuff, not Amber. Hell, he was lucky she didn’t come back and inform him to expect a 5000$ charge on his card.

“Amber I’m not reading that,” he finally declared.

“Aw come on dad, you need a hobby. What else will you be doing?”

“Work.”

“And after work?”

“Work.”

“Dad get a fucking life, your existence is getting sadder every minute you’re looking at that screen,” Amber insulted, seeing that she did hit some kind of nerve as James looked at her, either of realisation or just him being offended.

James was about to tell his daughter he hadn’t been sitting there the whole time she’s been gone, but she beat him to it. “Torturing someone doesn’t count,”

“... Will reading this book make you happy?” he asked, and in another world he would probably have said what he only alluded to: If I read this garbage will you stop pestering me about it?

Amber smiled satisfactorily. “Yes it will.” James wavered with his hand, letting Amber have her way. The girl hushed “Yes!” in victory, getting up on her feet and walking around the table, giving her dad another hug, thanking him. James was already regretting his choice giving in to his daughter but had to at least display some form of affection and softly patted her arm. 

“By the way Amber,” he spoke, getting her attention. “Thank you for breakfast, it was very nice of you.” His daughter smiled proudly after receiving praise. “But, as much as you dislike it, I need to get back to it, Kowalsky had called and-” he paused when he noticed Amber’s behavior shift from pride to… disgust? Removing her arms from him and folding them, all at the mention of the guy. 

“And?” She urged him to continue and ignore her sudden stance.

“And Adam gave me a little bit to work with so I need to inform Smith about it,” he finished explaining. “... What do you have against him?”

“Adam? Well for one he shot you, and two-”

She stopped when her dad gave her a doubtful look. She knew who he referred to, and he knew she knew.

She sighed annoyed. “I don’t like him dad, he’s annoying, complains, unfunny- he even punched you that one time!” she explained, remembering back to the time he told her the janitor punched him and Amber became furious. 

James was nonchalant about the event by now. “I probably had it coming,” he shrugged. “Plus, not all his jokes are completely terrible,”

Amber’s eyes widened in disbelief. “I can’t think of a single funny one, dad. And don’t mention the raveyard, that one was so lame,”

James had to withhold a chuckle that might have irritated her even further. He would admit to himself that Kowalsky’s jokes were funny, hurtful, but funny in a way.

Amber left her father to his work, but it was not without more insults about the janitor. James wondered how his daughter interacted with the man when he wasn’t there, assuming she’s being as ruthless as ever.

To her dismay, he worked the entire time. Not leaving his office for hours.

He called Smith and let him know what information Kowalsky had shared, and to do something he himself had never done before. He asked Smith to transfer a small sum of 300$ to the janitor’s given account. Smith questioned him briefly but James shrugged it off entirely, avoiding answering him.

He spent the rest of his time in that room, in that one chair, telling himself he didn’t need to move to rest his leg for the day, which was also true. It hurts like hell. As long as he didn’t move it, it was bearable, but if he so much as shifted a little, a painful sting struck his leg and froze him until it faded away. It was an unfortunate placement.

As evening crept closer, James knew it was just a matter of time before he got interrupted once again by his daughter. She was well meaning, in her own sense, but she could also be a bit too much. And as he expected, he heard footsteps close by his door, followed by a knock and the door being opened without clearance. Amber walked in, not even greeting her dad before sitting down in her designated chair. He eyed her expectantly, waiting for her to speak or tease him, but nothing of the sort happened. Instead she fished out her phone from her pocket and gave her attention to that instead, scrolling and tapping along. 

“... What are you doing?” he asked, not wanting to worry if she was pulling a stunt of any kind.

“Nothin’. I’m just spending time with my dad, am I not allowed to do that?” she asked defensively. James put his hands up like he was protecting himself from her verbal attack.

“You are, you certainly are. I’m just curious as to why you aren’t throwing demands at me,” James admitted.

Amber shrugged and answered without looking away from her phone, not wanting to make eye contact with her dad out of fear of breaking character. “I’ve given up, you don’t really listen to people,” her tone was low and missing life like she had tired herself out.

James let out a huff, clearly offended on some level. “I listen to peopl-”

“Name me one time,”

If there was one thing Amber was good at, it was making her father shut up, because he had no response. His eyes darted around like he was trying to force himself to remember a moment where he listened instead of talking, but he didn’t suppose interrogations counted in Amber’s mind.

“You worry too much,” he tried to assure her, but she didn’t budge.

“Am I though?” she finally gave her father a soulless glance. “The day I stop worrying is the day I find your body on the ground with a bullet in your head,”

James furrowed his brows in concern. What… did she say? In a panic, his response was a half-hearted chuckle followed by “I hope you haven’t been imagining that picture,”

Amber didn’t say anything as she blinked at him before glancing back and resuming a task on her phone. James felt dread built up in his stomach at the thought of his daughter imagining him dead, his head blown open. That couldn’t be good.

“Amber-”

“I mean!- Dad,” Amber sat up, agitated. “What’s your long term plan here? Be a big ol’ crime lord until you die? That’s not life dad, that’s having a job that craves you to be on call every single hour of the day. Even when you’re on vacation you’re still working,” She complained, aggressively airquoting the word vacation. James didn’t say anything. He couldn’t say anything. Anything out of his mouth would get shot down by Amber and she’d be in the right. She learned one thing from her mother alright.

“Amber, what would you have me do?”

She looked her father dead in the eyes, staring past his pupils and into his soul. “Retire.”

James let out a laugh of surprise. “Retire?” he repeated, baffled. He was nowhere near retirement age, at least in his mind. He could retire once he was tired and content, not when there was still work to do.

“Yes, retire. You got the money to do it ten times over,” Amber pointed out, correct once again. Hell he could even pay for her expenses the rest of her life including retirement, and he intended to. “Besids, there’d be a smaller chance of you dying,”

“There really wouldn’t be,” James corrected her, not looking forward to this conversation. “If I retire and it gets out, I’m going to be one big target for anyone who wants their revenge on me,”

“Fake your death?” She suggested without skipping a beat, like she had this idea for a long time.

“Faking your own death is not as easy as you think it is, Amber,”

The girl threw her hands up in dramatic surrender. “Back to what I was talking about. You keep not listening,”

“I am-”

“Yeah and it keeps going in one ear and out the other.” She placed her hands on the chair and pushed herself off of it, turning her back to her dad and charged out. 

James looked astounded as she left and remained unflinching as she slammed the door. That talk had really gotten under Amber’s skin, and James knew why, but he really needed her to stop worrying so much. He’s made it this long, why not further.

-----

A few days passed, and Amber rarely visited her dad in his office, only coming in to ask for something or to nag him to go to bed, her attempts always ending up unsuccessful. Her dad’s office always gave her a sad feeling. She often found him in the darkness, the only light source shining directly into his face. He was getting worn down by the days, going down to the basement and returning like nothing happened, looking unhappy as ever. The one time she tried to poke fun at her dad she asked if he’d read the book and he only answered with a shake of his head.

She left him alone, getting the hint that he wasn’t really in the mood to entertain her. Fine, he can get his space.

However one day when she went in to ask for something, he wasn’t there. Unusual yes, but he had other rooms he rarely frequented. She checked the upstairs bathroom, the door was wide open and the room was empty. His bedroom was the same. She hadn’t heard him move around the house, but her dad was surprisingly very quiet when he wanted to be. She started searching the entire house, every room on every level, finding the first and second floor empty. She sighed, knowing where she would most likely find him; in the basement.

She walked down the stairs, knowing he would get irritated whenever she interrupted his glorified torture session. It wasn’t like he was suddenly nicer when she was there, he knew she had seen the worst.

She opened the door to the basement stairs, looking down to the floor. It was quiet and dark, no lights in sight, and she couldn’t hear any activity going on. She took a deep breath before making her way down, seeing the light switch at the end of the stairs.

At this point, she knew the chances of him being down here was slim, but her dad didn’t depend on the light so there was still a small chance. She persevered, going further and down the hall to the hidden room where Adam had been staying for days. The silence continued. He was not down here, but Adam should be, and it wouldn’t hurt to give him a little visit.

She purposefully fidget a bit with the lock, hoping to build up fear in the guy’s body, thinking her father was the one to enter soon, just to scare him. Eventually she got it open and slowly pushed the door open, looking into the dark room. She was met with two things; the cold freezing air of the room, and the old musty smell emitting from there, alongside it was a sampled scent of a strong cleaning detergent that awakened memories in her brain. Thinking back to the party she held at her cabins and the time Kowalsky had arrived and her dad made her work with him to clean it up. So Kowalsky had given her dad one of his detergents? Waow, that’s big for that man.

Adam was still there, strapped and bloodied. His head hung over himself and his entire body was relaxed like he was out. She saw that his left leg had been targeted by her father last time he was down here. His pants were shredded and his skin was missing, blood poured out and covered his shoe and sock. The shredded wounds looked irritated as his calf was swollen and redder than usual. 

A leg for a leg, how poetic.

She found the switch to the room and clicked it, watching as the single weak light in the room lit everything up. Adam’s body flinched at the sudden brightness, almost like he wanted to cover himself with his arms to defend himself, just to realise they were still tied to the chair. He hesitated to look up, but as Amber looked on without saying a word, he slowly raised his head to look her in her eyes. Amber saw his eyes change from frightful, to somewhat relieved. 

“Amber?” he asked, making sure he wasn’t hallucinating.

She had an idea. An awful idea. “Adam?” she asked, sounding as surprised as she could. “What are you doing here?”

And he took the bait. “Dude… your dad is fucking crazy!” he exclaimed. When looking at his face, she saw how bloodshot his eyes were, probably due to the lack of sleep he gets in here. Dried blood ran from his nose and mouth and there were multiple blue marks on his face where her dad had probably beaten him. “He thinks I tried to murder him! Knocked me out and has me tied up here for fucking days!”

Amber put on her best face of disbelief. “He… what?”

“Amber, please… help.” he pleaded, his voice now scratchy and deeper than it usually was, the reason probably being his lack of sleep, once more.

Amber looked hesitant, glancing between Adam and the tools around the room. She used her arms to cradle herself for a show of comfort. “I… What- What do I do?” she asked, adding the stammer for effect.

“There’s some shears here, somewhere. Cut me out, please.” he instructed, unsure himself where the tool had been left since last it was probably used.

Amber quickly scoured around for the shear, making sure her body movements looked uncertain until she found the tool. It was heavy and metallic, stained with dried blood at the sharp edges. It seemed that her dad had made Adam acquainted with the tool already.

She walked over to him, treading as scared as she physically could. She noticed the change in Adam’s face, a sliver of relief washing over his expression. He must think he was getting out here, that he had Amber somehow fooled, forgetting who exactly her father is. 

Amber pretended to have shaky hands as she directed the shears towards the binds, ignoring Adam’s shallow breathing, inches away from freedom. But then, she paused, and changed. Her face turned cold and her eyes stared at him like he was the dirt under her shoe. Adam barely registered what happened before Amber withdrew her arm, and smacked the side of his face with the tool, hearing it make a rough impact with his skull. Adam didn’t even let out a yell or scream after the hit, he sucked in a shaky deep breath, slowly turning his head to look back up at Amber, before the metal pointed shears were swung again, this time from above and straight down onto his head. Something definitely got hit hard in there, as a gnarly crack emitted from his skull. 

He certainly wasn’t going to try and look at her again.

“That’s for thinking I’m an idiot,” Amber explained. “And this-” Adam bit his lip to try and suffocate the scream out of his mouth as Amber proceeded to use her foot to kick his very damaged leg in. “-Is for my dad,”

Adam coughed for air, defeated now that his small hope had been shattered. He breathed heavily, like prepping himself up for talking, but he froze, eyes frozen and staring right ahead of him. Amber knew what was up. 

She straightened her back, and turned her upper body to look at the open door, finding her father, who was as silent as ever, standing there and watching with an unreadable expression. Amber and her father shared a quick look. He wasn’t angry, he probably didn’t have enough energy for that right now.

“Are you done with him yet?” he asked, like he was politely waiting for Amber to be done with an object so he could use it instead, but Amber could read between the lines; get out.

“He thought he could trick me, thought I oughta teach him a lesson,” she excused herself.

At that, James raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “Oh did he?” Without skipping a beat, he charged over to Adam and past his daughter, grabbing the boy by the top of his throat, tightening his grip and halving the amount of air he was allowed to breathe. Adam stared on in horror, knowing he was in deep shit now, trying to fool James' own kid. “You talking to my daughter, Adam?”

“No-”

He shook him aggressively, banging Adam’s head back on the cold pole behind him. “You talk to my daughter and then you lie to me?” he questioned, not waiting for an answer from the boy. He chuckled. “I should bring the rats in here for a night.”

Adam looked on, terrified. He opened his mouth to protest or plead, but nothing came out. 

James turned his head to Amber. “What did he try to pull?”

“He thought I was dumb enough to try and help free him,”

“... Hand me those,” he demanded, pointing to the shears in her hand. Amber didn’t fight her father and handed them over. She looked at her father expectantly as he let go of Adam’s throat, letting him catch his breath and look up at him, tense and frightful. Rightfully so as James proceeded to forcefully shove the metal into his bullet wound in the shoulder, holding the handles down as it was forced further in. His flesh squished around the metal tool and blood started running out the wound once again. Adam couldn’t help but let out a cream of pain, eyes wide and watery. He groaned in pain as James didn’t pull it out, but he at least still kept the shears pressed together, so his wound wasn’t expanded further. 

James grabbed the kid’s hair and pulled his head up to look at him. “Are you gonna talk to my daughter again, Adam?”

“No.” He answered as quickly as he could, shaking his head to try and add to his credibility.

“You gonna look at my daughter again?”

“No, sir.”

James waited a second before slamming his head back against the pole again and removing the shears from Adam’s wound, relieving him of that pain, before hitting him in the face with them, like his daughter before him.

Amber looked on, triumphant. 

“What are you even doing down here, young lady?” her father demanded to know, turning away from Adam like he had vanished from his mind.

“Looking for you, I was wondering if I could borrow your card,”

James sighed silently. “It's in my wallet, now go.” he grabbed her shoulder and turned her on her heel, gently shoving her out of the room, leaving him and the boy in the chair alone. As Amber walked out, directed to the last known location of her dad’s wallet, she heard her father speak.

“Well, it’s been a while since you’ve had something to drink,”

-----

After a solid hour, James locked the room off and trekked up the stairs with difficulty. The boy was persistent in silence, but James could break him, he knew that much. He’d find out who Adam was allied with, but if they found John before Adam fessed up, he might not be needing him around for much longer.

He was surprised to reach the top and find his daughter sitting by the highchairs in the kitchen, scrolling on her phone like always but looking bored out of her mind like she’d been waiting on him here for all this time.

James blinked in confusion. “Did you forget the passcode again?”

“Please, I remember it like my own birthday,” she declared, flashing him the card in between her fingers. “I’m just heading out. A new store opened in town that me and my girls wanna check out,” she slid off the chair and picked up her bag ready to head out, but was stopped by her dad, blocking her path with his arm.

“That’s it?” he asked, putting on a knowing grin. Amber rolled her eyes but went along with his silent request, wrapping her arms around him and giving him a farewell hug, getting trapped as his arm proceeded to squeeze the air out of her lungs.

“Papá!” she exclaimed, suddenly switching into her mother’s tongue.

James chuckled in delight, glad he could still tease his daughter. “Would you do me a little favor sweetie?”

“Hm?”

“Could you go out and find a nice pillow for the couch?”

Amber scoffed. “You redecorating? Or I guess in this case, decorating?” she teased. 

James let it pass. He didn’t feel like fighting back, so he just took the jabs from his daughter. If anything he was storing energy for later, if he was so lucky as to have things go his way.

“I’m just trying to make someone shut up,” he confessed. He thought Amber would ask further questions, but she looked content with the information she’d been given. Or maybe she already knew what he was referring to and didn’t want to talk about him.

She bid her father farewell and left the house. James listened as she closed the door, only resting once he heard the automatic lock click in. He walked over and sat down in one of the dining table’s chairs. He would go back up, but after just walking up a pair of stairs, the man needed a minute. A few years ago he would have had no trouble, hell he would probably be up and running around, but nowadays he really just needed to sit down. Maybe he really should take Amber’s advice and sleep in his own bed, before long his back is gonna feel the same pain as his leg.

He dug up the phone from his pocket and called up the number he was maybe a bit too familiar with. 

The person on the other side picked up.

“Mr. Kowalsky?”

-----

James felt like he must’ve had a four leaf clover in his pocket due to the amount of luck he had when calling the janitor. In his own favor, it was day so he wasn’t disturbing the man late in the night. Kowalsky was also not acting as irritated as all the other times he called him, and James will take what he can.

He arrived later that day while Amber was still out. He could surprisingly find his way with only the blurry memory of the route to the house far out.

He knocked on the door and awaited to be let in, James could even hear the man impatiently tap his foot as he got up from his chair and walked over, slower than usual.

“Give an injured man a minute to open the door, would you Kowalsky?” James greeted the man, using his leg as his excuse. Kowalsky didn’t bat an eye. 

He looked like he usually did. Dark grey shirt with black slacks. James would ask why the man never changed up his wardrobe, but he assumed he’d probably get the predictable answer of; money. He appeared a bit more put together, looks like he got a slight haircut as well as took care of his stubble just a tad. Good for him, made him look less like a dead man walking.

“You seem fine,” the janitor defended himself.

James, was in fact, not fine. Neither physically or mentally right now. “I do what I can,” he shrugged before stepping aside, letting Kowalsky walk inside. “You brought what I asked?”

“Course,” Kowalsky answered and lifted the bag he brought with him.

“Good, good. Want something to drink?” He offered but Kowalsky declined politely as he could. James closed the door and he could almost feel a remark from Kowalsky and decided he’d answer him before he even opened his mouth. “Before you ask, I have some decorative pillows coming in soon,”

There was an amused glint in Kowalsky’s eyes after the callback and he raised his shoulders like he chuckled, but he didn’t reply with anything, words probably taken from him as James answered his question he hadn’t even spoken. 

A part of James was entertained that he was starting to read Kowalsky like a book. The man was predictable, but that didn’t stop him from having a few surprises up his sleeves.

Kowalsky emptied the bag’s contents across the dinner table, there were voice recorders, pictures, paper sheets, along with plastic bags containing guns and knives. James raised an inquisitive eyebrow at all the extra stuff. He was prepared for the pictures, but everything else was a surprise, but he wasn’t to complain. The more evidence the merrier.

He took a brief glance at the photos piled together. Kowalsky was telling the truth, there really were pictures of him and his truck, though from a fair distance. There were also pictures of different locations he had been at. The spa, pizzeria and the cabins, and to his horror, a photo of him. It was blurry and from behind and didn’t contain his tattoo, but the fact still hit him and he felt nothing but anger. Without much thinking, he grabbed the small picture and crushed it in his palm.

“Didn’t get your good side?” Kowalsky piped up.

“... I don’t know, which one would that be, Kowalsky?” he teased back, not sure why that was his response instead of something on the lines of “I have no good sides, they’re all my good side” but no, that was what he went with, and he didn’t know why.

Kowalsky looked just as caught off guard like James was internally, eyeing him like he wasn’t sure he heard him correctly. “The one that’s very, very, far away,” 

James chuckled. Good to know he didn’t lose his ability to try and offend him. “Nonetheless, good job Kowalsky.” He didn't need to praise the man any further as he already started looking away. Got him. “So, as a little thank you,” he moved from his spot and a bit further away to retrieve something he had stashed away. Kowalsky looked back, unaware of what James was fetching, and a bit wary as well. “You may have this back,”

If Kowalsky was the type to yell out in excitement, he probably would have done it. His eyes widened at the sight of what James had fished out; his fucking sword.

He grabbed the sword he had taken with him back at the museum in excitement, staring at it like it was a lost prize. “Czad!” he exclaimed, switching back to his native language for a moment.

James looked on, bewildered by Kowalsky’s sheer delight. “Do not make me regret giving it back, Kowalsky.”

It seemed like the janitor had forgotten James was still here and composed himself, clearing his throat awkwardly. “More than you already do, you mean?” James nodded, already regretting his decision slightly. “... Thanks,” he finally thanked him, sounding a bit forced like the words struggled to come out.

James continued to carry the conversation, much to Kowalsky’s relief. “No sweat Kowalsky, it’s like I’ve been saying. I reward my employees when they’ve been doing a good job,”

“Well I would've loved a raise but this’ll do,” Kowalsky commented, eyes currently glued to the sword like he hasn’t seen it in forever.

James scratched his chin in consideration. “That could be arranged,” he spoke, causing the janitor to look at him in disbelief. “Paychecks are up for grab right about now,” 

Kowalsky just stared, completely frozen, mouth open like he wanted to say something, but he remained silent. James gave the man a moment to put himself together again. “I hate you,” he finally said.

Well, he was expecting another grateful thank you, but that was perhaps just wishful thinking. James chuckled. “Feeling’s entirely mutual buddy,” he replied, and without much thinking, patted the polish man’s shoulder. He tensed up and looked like he either wanted to sprint away or swing at the other man. 

James raised an eyebrow at the behavior. “You don't really like being touched, do you?”

“By you? Absolutely not,”

James quickly removed his hand, getting a bit too scared as he just remembered he gave the man a fucking sword, scoffing as a bit of irony hit him. “That’s funny,”

“What is?”

“You don’t like being touched, yet you’re the one who can’t keep your hands off me,”

Kowalsky looked appalled. “I- wh- Excuse me?”

“You’ve punched or smacked me around four times by now,”

“Oh yeah, that,” Once again, a state of relief fell over the man and he sighed. “You could have worded that differently,”

James smirked and shrugged as if to say “probably”. It was fun to catch the janitor off guard, see him turn flustered and try to regain his previous composure. It brought him entertainment, much to the other man’s dismay.

“How’ve you been treating Adam?” Kowalsky asked after a bit.

“I don’t think he’ll be leaving me a good review,” James answered. He would like to give the man a detailed answer, but he figured him hearing Adam wasn’t having a good time would be enough. No need to hear about the gory details, and he seemed content with that.

“You’ve been using the stuff I gave you?”

“Oh, have I ever,” James replied, a chuckle escaping him.

Kowalsky looked at him with concern but didn’t ask into it. Instead he went back over to the bag he brought. There was one last item he hadn’t brought out.

Normally James would expect a weapon of some sort to remain in the bottom of anywhere, but this was Kowalsky. The worst thing he’d bring would be a pillow just to rub it in.

He avoided James' internal prediction and instead pulled out another detergent bottle, presumably to give it to him. James was slightly elated, his old bottle was almost empty, and he didn’t even have to get a new one himself, and that one looked brand new and full of the toxic looking liquid.

Huh, so this was the feeling Kowalsky felt whenever he bought new detergents.

“Did I mention it’s flammable?” 

James looked between the janitor and the bottle, like asking him if he was joking. He wasn’t. “You, Kowalsky, are fucked up, and I love it,” he congratulated him, bearing a smile and a pleased expression.

The janitor shrugged off his praise. “I’m not trying to be, but I really don’t like that kid,”

“Don’t worry, we’re four people in that boat,” James added. 

Kowalsky gathered up his stuff, ready to leave, and James strongly assumed he was heading to wherever his daughter was, which he understood. If Amber was in the hospital or the slightest bit sick James would also like to spend most of his time with her.

“Say hi to the little lady for me again, would you?” he requested once again, not really knowing if his first one went through.

Kowalsky gave him a thumbs up. “Will do James,” he promised before walking out the door. James got a quick look at the back of the man’s head, seeing the wound had been healing up alright. Good, didn’t need to worry about his health, not that he was.

He sat back down and listened to the outside sounds, car doors opening, an engine turning on and the truck eventually driving away, leaving James alone for a couple of miles. Well, aside from the basement guest.

He groaned and relaxed his shoulders. Yeah, that does it. He’s sleeping in his bed today. But for now, he had more evidence to examine that Kowalsky found around the building. There might be something he could use. The extra bottle was just the cherry on top for him. A part of him was relieved that Kowalsky was becoming less of a nuisance for him to deal with, to the point where the two could actually start to get along, which also confused the man. He's known this man for a couple of months, and in that whole time Kowalsky has been nothing but simple and firm towards him, and a bit angry but who wasn't angry at him nowadays? He could take it.

"Nice" Kowalsky was a weird change, but welcomed nonetheless, at least he was starting to like the janitor a bit more- no, more like he was fond of him. Yeah that was probably just it, right?

He sighed and rubbed his eyes. “I need a drink,”

Sketches drawn for this chapter:

Amber's little evening fit, by me:                              Amber and James hug, by my friend: