Lights | A Forever Fanfiction

1. Safety Blankets

The thin layer of highlighter-orange fabric draped over my shoulders did not make me feel better. Every time I closed my eyes, the words scrawled on the ceiling of my father's bedroom in his blood, as though it were paint seared through my mind, like a searing brand across my forehead.

The fire that will consume the city shall burn you first.

I shuddered, as an icy breeze brushed gently across the snow-swept landscape of the parking lot. The sound of car doors slamming loudly riffled me from my grim thoughts. I wiped away the beginnings of my fear and pain, the tears falling from my fingers and melting through the ice beneath me. Two very familiar faces turned towards me, framed by streetlights and snowflakes, slowly sliding towards the ground. One of them had high cheek bones, and milk chocolate coloured hair that grasped just past her shoulders. She radiated authority, befitting of a detective like herself. A thin, silvery-gold chain glistened around her neck. The other one was bulky, with dark hair heavily styled and a wedding ring gleaming on his left hand.

"So, where's Henry?" I heard the other one, the man, say.

"Out," the woman replied softly, shrugging. "He had... business to take care of."

"What on earth could the doc have to do at night? It's not like he ever goes out to have fun," the man snickered. "Am I right, Jo?"

"Stop it, Hanson, we're on a crime scene, have a little respect," the woman scolded quietly, her voice almost petulant as she began lifting her head up to look at me, opening her mouth to speak but getting cut off by the sharp recognition that glistened in her eyes. Her teeth were barred, as though she were flustered, but I know that it was just a habit.

"Hey, detectives," I offered, lifting a hand half-heartedly. "What's up?"

"That's your dad?" Hanson demanded, skipping any greetings or formalities.

"I'm so sorry, Lights," the woman offered.

I nodded grimly, pursing my lips. No introductions were necessary. I knew both detectives from when I'd been arrested for hacking, because an unnamed assailant had broken into a company's security system for fun. No harm done, though. The charges were dropped, due to the fact that the cyber attacker hadn't stolen any files.

"Lights, are you okay?" Jo implores quietly, laying a tentative hand on mine.

I shrugged, shook my head. I tilted my face down so nobody would see it as I spoke. "No, I mean..." My voice broke, like ice under boots. "I'd just gotten home from kendo club." There was a quiver in my voice, cracking every word I spoke into little splinters, telling the tale that my face would not. "It wasn't late, I was hungry, I thought I might help him, with his next project. We normally eat dinner together. And I walked in, and it was so quiet. It was so dark. And those words, on the ceiling-" I choked, the words like acid in my mouth, and I allowed myself a moment to recuperate, and a bitter, deranged laugh escaped from my aching chest.

"I'm sorry," Hanson said, his voice genuine. I couldn't look him in the eye.

"He was making a new one."

"What?"

"He was making a new one, a cello. Is was... magnificent. He wanted it to be his best work. It was going to be like the one he made for my mother, when they first met. Only better." I grinned, unhappily, too forcefully. "He'll never finish it."

"I hate to do this to you, Lights," Jo said, raising her eyes a fraction, her teeth clicking quietly as she plucked words from the air carefully. "But I have to ask you a few questions, now. Protocol."

I nodded my assent. I had no other choice. My fingers were stiff with the cold, and I didn't know what was going to happen to me after this was over. My mother had killed herself, long ago. My father was murdered on this cold and wintry night. Did that mean I was an orphan, now? That I was... that I was all alone?

I tilted my head back up, looking Jo in the eyes. "I'm ready."

Jo's eyes flirted to her folded hands, and she said, "We both know that almost anyone who actually knew your father wouldn't hate him. He was... a good man. I need you to tell me if there was anyone, anyone at all, who might have intended harm upon him."

I shook my head, feeling stupid for not paying attention when I was with him. He was the only person I could let my guard down with, and perhaps the only reason I was able to let my guard down at all. "No. Nobody that I knew of. He had a few students, all of them for private music lessons. Maybe you could speak to some of his suppliers."

Jo gave me a strange look, and I suddenly understood the implications of my words.

"Oh, no! Not like that. For chemicals, to treat the wood, and make strings for his instruments. He doesn't own a shop, but he's registered as a business, since he invites people to check out the instruments, and sells- sold them, and offers- offered lessons and stuff."

Jo nodded thoughtfully, before turning to Hanson. "Can you call Henry for me? Tell him this very important. It's personal." There was venom in her voice, and Hanson seemed to understand, sliding his old fashioned flip-phone from his pocket and scrolling through his contacts, turning away with his other hand stuffed into the pocket of his winter parka.

Jo sat down next to me on the pavement, draping an arm on my shoulder carefully. "You're okay?"

"Physically unharmed, aside from a nasty cut on my arm, because in gym, I beat some dumb jock at soccer, and, he... well... It ended with him getting a bloody nose. Think it might be broken." I laughed hollowly, shaking my head.

"Sounds likely high school," Jo deadpanned.

"The principal was angry with me. Dad was going to have to come in. I guess he can't do that now." I forced some poor attempt at a grin to my face, knowing it resembled a sour grimace more than a reassuring smile. "So, what now?"

Jo sighed and folded her hands in her lap. "Do you have somewhere to stay?"

I shook my head.

"Then... I guess you can stay with me for now," Jo offered. "Just... y'know. Temporarily. Until this is sorted."

I looked at her quietly. "Thanks, Jo."

"Of course," Jo replied quickly. "Well, it's late. I still have some work to finish up. If you'd like, you can wait in my car. It's warm. Quiet."

I nodded again. "I can't get used to speaking in the past tense about Da. It's so..."

She gazed into the distance, as though fondly remembering something, the memory faintly reflected on her face bitterly. "...Yeah. I know that feeling."

She led me silently to the dark SUV that she'd been commissioned by the patrol car manager. She turned off the blazing red and blue police lights propped up in the windshield and turned up the heat.

"I'll be right back, okay?" she said, looking away, at a car pulling up in the distance. Two men sat in the front, one older, and the other about Jo's age. The younger one seemed, familiar, but I couldn't quite place where from. I couldn't see him well, and-

The door closed, and the sounds in the air immediately melted away into silence. Exhaustion won me over. I closed my eyes, slipping my backpack off my shoulders and onto the floor, falling into a dark sleep in the back of the police car.