Chapter Text
Razputin was in the gentle embrace of sleep, curled up in his blankets. His book was long ago discarded by his pillow, just an inch away from a limp fist. Warm and furled into himself, he was just about on the edge of plunging into REM, into the realm of dreams. His brain was going, about to fall into deep sleep when the door crashed open, smashing into the wall with a boom. Morris groaned from the bunk under his. The lights were hit, making the room explode into painful neon. He was barely conscious of his own existence when Sam’s shriek pierced the night.
“Raz! Did you kill your girlfriend?”
He peeled open his left eye, tossing his hand over the other to protect it from the harsh light. His voice cracked and fried tiredly as he dug into himself to look for the energy to respond. All that came out as a lame, “Wha-uh- what?”
Her feet pounded the floor as she scurried over, ignoring Morris’s weak protests. At this, Raz forced himself to sit up, watching her blurry form intensely close the distance between them. She grabbed the ladder and hopped up, uncaring for personal space. His eyes only adjusted enough to see the orange of her hair, and he scooted away, his back hitting the cold wall. She just got closer still, until they were practically nose-to-nose, and stage whispered.
“Did… you… kill her?”
His eyebrows scrunched helplessly together, and he let out a confused, quiet noise. She reached over, grabbing his shoulders. He yelped as she dug her fingers too far into his flesh. She lowered her voice even more.
“Sasha’s coming. You need to leave,”
He pushed her away with limp arms, squirming off to the side. He rubbed at his eyes in a vain attempt to get them to adjust quickly. “Sam… what?” He croaked.
She finally leaned back, and he dully noted the frilly and deceptive ribbon around the collar of her nightie. She clasped a hand over her chest. “Look, look, I trust you. I really do,” She cocked an eyebrow at him. “I won’t grill you on why you did it, but you need to get out of here. If Sasha finds you, you’re screwed,”
He sighed, about to voice his doubt, before her face turned stony and she shouted; “So, go!”
She grabbed his shirt in a fistful, and the next thing he knew, the floor was coming at him with an alarming speed. He yelped before slapping the floor with an audible crunch. He groaned, a rusty smell flooding his nose.
“Raz?!” Morris asked with a groggy concern.
He lifted himself up, feeling the hot sludge slip out of his nostrils. Pain shot out of the bridge of his nose, and his hands clamped over it. He rolled onto his back, looking into his roommate’s worried face, and Sam looming on the top bunk like some sort of evil deity. The blood itched disgustingly as it ran down his face and he hissed. “Sam, why?”
She threw her hands up in the air. “Damnit, Raz! Everyone’s definitely heard that!”
“Well, you shouldn’t have thrown me!”
She set her arms on her hips. By some cosmic joke, she was wearing leggings with little details of tiny, happy squirrels all over them. “I’m doing you a favor! Just because you’re a murderer that doesn’t mean you’re not my friend!”
“What the hell are you on about?” Morris finally interjected, sitting up, tossing off his blankets, and levitating his chair to him.
“No clue,” The other boy admitted. A tissue box came floating to him, and he took one. “Thank you.” He tore the paper in half and shoved the pieces up his nose.
She stood up from her place up on the bunk, commanding attention as though she didn’t already have it. Her form was lit ominously in the flickering light. “He killed his girlfriend and the agents know!” She waved her arms up. “They’re coming for him! We’ve got to help him escape!”
Morris stopped settling in his chair to stare at Raz.
“I seriously don’t know. I think she started eating her pancakes again-“
“Pancakes?! At two am? No, it’s waffle time!” She pointed an accusatory finger at the boy on the floor. “You don’t know, huh? Then why are you covered in blood?”
He pulled his formerly white t-shirt away from his chest, the blood soaking through to the skin. “I’m covered in blood because you threw me off the freaking bed and I hurt my nose! I was sleeping, Sam! I have no clue what you’re talking about!”
She lowered herself, her face slackened. “Wait, so if you didn’t kill her, who did?”
He stood up, the paper falling out of his nose. “Wait-wait-wait. What happened to Lili?!”
Morris looked up at her. Sam looked at him in return, shaking her head slowly. “I guess he really doesn’t know, does he?”
“Oh no, oh no, I’ve- I’ve got to go find Truman-“
A cool, collected voice came from the door. “Miss Boole, I implore you not to exaggerate so much. Especially not so late at night. We can address you trying to hide a perceived murderer later.” There stood Sasha, despite the time, he was still dressed, his lab coat layered over his leather jacket, his goggles nestled comfortably into his hair. He took a drag of his cigarette. He tipped his glasses down the bridge of the nose, eyeing his bloodied student. “Razputin, are you alright?”
“Yes, yes, I’m fine. What happened to Lili?”
The agent’s frown grew a little deeper and he pulled away his cigarette psychically. “Please do remain calm, the story isn’t quite so morbid as Miss Boole has put it.” Raz let out a sigh of relief. “The issue is that Miss Zanotto cannot be located. Don’t assume the worst, but I was sent to ask you- given your relationship to her- if you knew where she could have gone,”
“No… we had dinner together earlier today- yesterday now, but she didn’t say anything about leaving,”
Sasha nodded to himself, bringing his cigarette back. He puffed out, smoke curling up. “Not to worry, there’s a search team looking for her. I’m going to join the search now. Goodnight,”
Raz reached out to him, stopping after seeing the crimson smeared on his hand. “Hold on! Let me get dressed, I’m going to join the search too,”
“Very well.”