Casey stares down the tunnel, waiting and standing and reeling. Things never go right. Why would he push her when she was so scared in the first place? This whole mission did nothing but create more questions, if the conversations building behind him have anything to say.

"I'll recover the backup files," Donatello says. "Sarina and I can look over the footage, comb it for anything that we missed."

"Missed?" Destiny repeats. "I feel like I missed everything in that."

"Maybe we're a little too used to bad guys who like explaining their plans in detail," Michelangelo says. "You know, like...evil monologuing."

"There were a few things that caught my attention," Leonardo says. "Necromancer knows Shadow. Shadow knows him, too."

"Yeah, but he said he wanted to use her to create more white mutagen," Annalise says. "Is that possible?"

"Sounds like it," Donatello says. "Sarina and I have theorized that Shadow was mutated with a pure form of inanimation mutagen, dare I say, the purest form. Necromancer might be trying to recreate it and she could be a part of that."

"But why?" Raphael asks. "Didn't he say something about...shell, getting someone back? He said a girl's name."

"Louisa," Sarina says. "Seems he's looking for her and Shadow, but possibly for different reasons."

"Unless Shadow is Louisa," Leonardo suggests. "Like when we thought Taylor was two different people."

"Maybe..." Raphael mutters.

"It's kind of weird," Michelangelo says. "It didn't sound like he was doing anything super bad. Like...with Mutacorp, they were totally trying to kill us and mutate New York, but this guy? Totally not the same vibe."

"He just seemed...sad. And stressed." Annalise pauses. "And desperate."

Destiny crosses her arms over her chest. "But if he's paying the Dragons to break into places, shouldn't we try to stop it? And what about those beasts he has? Hun said he couldn't control them."

"Necromancer also said he could sedate them if he had more mutagen," Donatello adds.

"Maybe you guys could help him," Annalise suggests.

"We still don't know how he's connected to Mutacorp," Leonardo says. "Until we know that, we can't risk approaching him, even peacefully." He sighs. "If we could talk to Shadow more, she could probably shed some light on this."

"Except she doesn't trust us," Sarina says. "I doubt she will want to return. Perhaps we should let her go."

"With a name like Necromancer, I'm not sure I trust him either," Donatello says.

"Oh yeah, aren't necromancers like...zombie dudes?" Michelangelo asks. "There's a skill tree for that in Mazes and Mutants!"

"Sort of, Mikey. Necromancers are typically wizards that practice the art of necromancy, which is the practice of communicating with and raising the dead."

Michelangelo inhales in a long, drawn-out gasp. "Dudes, we need our LARP costumes NOW!"

Raphael snatches the back of his shell before he can scramble away, yanking him back into his seat. "He's not an actual wizard, shell-for-brains," he says, rolling his eyes.

"Except he's creating the shadow beasts," Destiny says. "Kinda wizard-y. I'd bet my Canadian quarters that he's using the taxidermy animals from that warehouse we explored to do it."

Michelangelo laughs and Annalise seems confused. He whispers to her, "Inside joke. Tell you later," and she nods.

"That doesn't sound like a bad bet, Des," Leonardo says. He strokes his chin, frowning. "What are the chances he'll create an unintentional army of beasts?"

"He said he'd dispose of them," Raphael says.

"No, Hun suggested that he dispose of them," Sarina replies. "He said he would stop his research."

Casey listens to them talk, lets their words go in one ear and out the other. His mind is full of Shadow, her anger weighing him down again. He's a terrible friend, isn't he? He's already a terrible brother and he was a terrible son, back when there was someone to be a son to.

He's a bad friend. He doesn't deserve to call anyone a friend, not when all he does is use them to try and make his miserable shithole of a life better. What's the point? What's the point of all of this? Why couldn't he leave Shadow alone the first time she asked him to? Why couldn't he have passed one stupid math class?

Why did his dad have to die because of his idiot son and his stupid words?

Casey leaves the lair without a word. He'll be halfway home before they notice he's gone and hopefully, no one will come after him.

----------

His apartment is filthy; dishes piled in the sink, laundry on the floor, trash cans steadily turning into a teetering tower just waiting to topple. There's still a fist-shaped hole in the drywall. He hasn't changed anything since the accident, leaving the place looking like a pathetic shrine to his father's memory, of the life he once had.

He strips to his boxers and collapses into bed. It doesn't matter. It'll just get dirty again, right?

He blinks and the light is back, sunlight streaming through his windows, and he's left with this stiff feeling his his bones. Already, his dreams have faded, but cold terror remains and he thinks he must have dreamed about the accident.

A single image causes a wave of nausea; his dad, lifting his head from the airbag, neck bent at an unnatural angle as he slowly looks at Casey, bloodshot eyes and blood-soaked hair and just blood, so much blood. Why? Why, son? Why would you do this to me?

His phone won't stop dinging. He burrows his head under his pillow and tries to drown it out, breathing hard, eyes wet. He can picture the text messages. Destiny and Raphael trying to check on him, asking him why he left the lair without a word last night, blah, blah, blah.

His slow, creaky brain cogs turn a bit. He has a job, a job he's supposed to go to this morning.

Fuck me, he thinks. Just go away, leave me alone.

"Hey Siri," he calls. Nothing. "Hey Siri," he repeats, more forceful as he lifts the pillow off his head a little. A soft chime. Finally listening. "Text Eustace."

"Sorry, I didn't catch that. Who do you want to message?"

Fuck. Me. He yanks his head out from under the pillow. "Eustace. Text Eustace."

Another chime, "What do you want to say to Eustace Mechanic?"

It would almost be less painful to just grab his phone and text him himself, but that would mean moving. "Can't come in today."

"Okay. Send it?"

"Yes."

"Sent."

Technology is supposed to be cool, right? Helpful? What a load of bull. At least that's done. He rolls over and mushes his head under the pillow again. Staying in sounds good. Getting more sleep sounds goood because being awake takes too much energy. Being awake means he's going to keep thinking about Shadow and his dad and Andy and everyone else he's ever let down.

His phone dings. He ignores it.

Another one. He groans and slaps his hand around until it catches on his phone. He drags it closer to him and glares at the screen.

Eustace
What's going on?
You okay, kid?

No. No, he's not, but what else is new? He won't bother Eustace with that mess. He can focus on his shop instead of the pathetic waste of space he chose to take under his wing. It's okay, Eustace, he thinks. You'll realize that your faith was a mistake very soon.

Man, Casey just really doesn't want to exist right now.

His phone starts ringing, guitars and the raspy scream of a rock singer, and he lets it go to voicemail as he drops it face down on the mattress next to him. He listens to the song play over and over again until finally, the singular ding of a text message finishes it off.

He lifts the phone enough to see the screen.

Eustace
If you don't answer, I'm going to assume you're in trouble and come looking for you.
You gave us your address on the info sheet we had you fill out, remember?

Shit, he thinks.

He gives in and replies.

Casey
I'm sick.

He feels sick. It's the easiest way to explain away everything.

Eustace
Do you need anything?

Casey
No.
Thanks anyway.

Eustace
Feel better soon.
I'm only a text away, remember that.

He shuts his phone off, rolls over, and goes back to sleep.

----------

He sleeps through Sunday and skips school on Monday and Tuesday, only dragging himself out of bed when his stomach's protests get too painful to ignore. He gathers whatever junk Andy stocked the cabinets with before she left and brings them back to his room, drawing the curtains shut and creating a nest of sleep sweat, potato chips, and darkness. He'll wait out the rest of his stupid life here, just wasting away. It's better than he deserves.

He hears his bedroom door creak, the apartment settling in on itself, and he opens his bleary eyes. He doesn't know what time it is. Time passes so slowly and yet not at all.

"Casey."

Oh. Awesome. He thought hallucinations only started when you don't sleep, not the other way around. He lets out a breath, a weak but scornful laugh, and digs the blanket further under his chin. He feels her chill seeping up underneath his cocoon and he curls his legs up to his chest in defiance.

"Go away," he mutters.

"You need to turn your phone on and let your friends know that you're alive."

"No."

The cold gets sharper and he jolts, flopping onto his back, and there's Shadow, hovering over him. A lump forms in his throat, so large it crowds into his chest, and his hands clench into fists against the mattress. Her bright eyes stay narrowed, arms crossed over her chest.

"Do you have any idea the worry you're causing?" she hisses. Even though her voice is a step above a whisper, it feels too loud.

He raises his hand, extending one pointer finger and waggling it as if scolding a child. "Don't know, don't care."

"What about—" She huffs, shaking her head. "What about Eustace and Harry? They're worried about you and you won't even tell them what's happening."

"They barely know me."

"That doesn't matter."

"How do you know what they feel? And why are you even here?"

"You weren't at school and when I went by the shop, I heard them talking about how you haven't been answering your texts."

"If they were really worried, they'd come over. Eustace told me as much."

"They don't want to overstep your boundaries. You know, you could learn a thing or two about that."

He lets out a frustrated groan and hides his head under his pillow. "If you're just gonna insult me, get out."

He doesn't hear a response. He waits, counting the seconds, and when he passes thirty he pokes his head out from under the pillow only to flinch as his phone flies at him. It stops short of his nose and drops onto the bed with a small bounce.

"Please just call them," she says, and there's a pinch of desperation in her tone.

He frowns at her even as he holds down the power button. The second the screen lights up, he's met with notification after notification from not only the Nezbits, but his friends as well—mostly Raphael and Destiny, but the sight still leaves a sour taste in his mouth.

He sends a few measly texts to his friends, saying he's felt unwell but that he's fine. Don't come by, he insists. He's probably super contagious. He hopes that will buy him more time before Destiny comes flying in through his window.

He hesitates on Eustace, though. Only a text away, he said. They barely know him, but...maybe that's a good thing.

Casey
I'm still not feeling well.
I'm sorry.

Eustace
Kid! Good to hear from you.
Sorry to hear you're still under the weather.

Casey puts the phone down and looks back at Shadow, still hovering over his bed. "There. Happy?"

She purses her lips, but doesn't reply. Casey forces himself to sit up, dragging his hands down his face. His brain feels foggy, his muscles aching from lack of use, and his stomach hurts so bad from eating nothing but stale snack food. A self-fulfilling prophecy, making himself sick.

"Shadow," he says. "I really...really need you to keep your word."

She frowns. "Oh?"

He shakes his head, bringing his knees to his chest and dropping his forehead onto them. "I'm too stupid to figure out what's going on with you, and these mixed messages are confusing the hell out of me. If you want to be left alone, then do it, and stop...checking on me, okay?"

He hears her inhale sharply, then hold it. After a second, her cold aura brushes his toes, his shins. "I'm sorry, Casey."

He exhales. "You were right. We shouldn't be friends. No matter what I do, I hurt you, and...I never want to hurt you."

"Casey, just stop. Self-pity doesn't look good on you."

He looks up at her. Her expression is soft, sad, and it confuses him all over again. What is her deal? Why does she tell him to go away, to leave her alone, only to force herself back into his life?

"Why are you here? Really?" he asks.

She purses her lips. "Has...has Wallace sent anyone after you?" He frowns and she corrects herself, "Necromancer, I mean."

"No. I've been hiding." He gestures at the mess of a bedroom that he calls home. "...his name is Wallace? What a nerd."

She breathes out a sigh. "He's brilliant and dangerous, Casey. Please don't underestimate him."

"Believe me, he's the last person I've been thinking about."

"Promise me you'll stay safe. Please."

Why does she care? Why is she bent on being the most confusing person he's ever spent time with? Why can't she just be transparent with him?

His phone buzzes. He checks the notification.

Eustace
Harry makes a mean chicken noodle soup.
Just saying.

He weighs his options. He looks back up at Shadow only to find that she's disappeared. He hates how her sudden absence feels like a punch to the chest. She didn't even wait for him to answer.

Whatever. He grabs his phone with a heavy sigh.

Casey
There's a key under the front mat.