Archive of Our Own

Ellie rolled her eyes at her phone before leaning over to share the exchange with her friend. Will couldn't remember his name— what was important was remembering that anything he sent to Ellie would be shown to anyone with a heartbeat. He'd have to be twice as careful with her, because if he wasn't Delilah would gut him and Love would bury the body.

It wasn't like he set out to fixate on Ellie. But she was so exuberant and so vulnerable, so genuine compared to the others. She wanted attention, she wasn't so guarded like the others. The tough exterior, the "I can take care of myself" was so endearing. It even made up for her reliance on technology and her dirty mouth.

Step one was solving the Hendy problem. What he settled on was this; when Ellie went over there alone and nearly got drugged, he poured out most of her drink— he wanted her sober enough to remember this, but not enough to freak out at his sudden appearance. Hendy was out cold when Will came around the corner to see Ellie texting somewhat awkwardly, likely relaying what was happening or calling a ride home.

"What the fuck?" Her eyes were wide, but her fingers started frantically typing. Will knocked the phone out of her hands. "Dude!"

He shushed her reflexively, though there was nothing to be worried about. Short of a blood curdling scream to rouse the neighbors, no one was going to interrupt them.

"I need to show you something—" he began.

"You need to show me your ass leaving!" Ellie cut him off, getting off the couch with only a slightly unsteady lurch. She backed away, but she was slower and smaller and Will closed to the distance quickly and easily. He grabbed one hand, tight but firm. 

"Come on, Ellie. I want to show you something of Hendy's." he dragged her toward the short bookshelf and opened the secret door.

"What the fuck?" She whispered, no longer trying to escape, sagging ever so slightly into him. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders— she squirmed but didn't shrug him off. They went down the stairs.

On the landing, Ellie shrugged and huffed. "This looks really boring. So he has some sort of weird sex room, whatever. Him not showing me this is totally normal."

Will shook his head, and bent to find the photos hidden in the brick and offered them to Ellie. She looked at them, at first baffled and then looking a little sick. She shuffled through the stack until she got to the one of the earliest ones, her blood draining from her face. "Delilah." She stroked the photo, then hugged it close to her, though Will could tell she was trying to not crumple it.

Abruptly, she looked up at him. "Hendy was going to do this to me. He made me a drink. He— he was going to carry me down here and—"

"But I stopped him." Will said, simply. 

"What are we supposed to do now?"

"Leaving the scene of the crime would be a good first step." Will almost laughed. Ellie didn't smile, but she did straighten the photos to be carried more easily. They went back up the stairs, and Will spent a few minutes straightening everything to disguise his presence. Ellie waited by the front door, her eyes locked on Henderson.

Will drove them home, the teenager beside him still as stone. "Are you going to tell Delilah?" She asked suddenly. 

"Do you think we should?" Will was still thinking through the possibilities. The evidence, such as it was, was tenuous, especially now that they'd removed it. It might be satisfying for Delilah, evidence that what she thought was happening was, and getting Ellie out of it, but what then? They couldn't publish those photos, and the photos would be pretty suspicious if turned over to the police. 

Ellie was thinking it over, tapping her fingers on her phone. "Delilah hates cops. Like, I know she sleeps with one, but that's just because he's a good source. No one would believe her and even I know these pics aren't great evidence." She scuffed her feet. "No one would believe me either. And before you say you'd turn them in, I don't think saying 'I broke into Hendy's house and found these' would sound that great in court."

"You're right. I'd like to avoid police involvement— but it's your decision. Or your decision and Delilah's," he amended. He wasn't going to control her, but if she said the cops were the way he might have to interfere. Lose the photographs, destroy credibility. It'd be so unpleasant, so much easier if she gave in and was satisfied with this much.

Ultimately, they decide to destroy the photos. Ellie tells him afterward, her eyes red and nose stuffed— she blames that on allergies. With someone else, someone before her, he might have wrapped his arms around her. But Ellie wouldn't want that, and he really doesn't want anyone seeing that. 

He'd been thinking too hard, and Ellie elbows him. "Look, I wanted to tell you I told Delilah I found those pics by myself and I called you because I didn't want to get into an Uber while I was semi-drugged."

He nodded. "Okay, we'll go with that then. Did she say anything about stringing me up for even being near you?"

"No, just told me I couldn't trust you either and to call her next time." She paused. "Well, she yelled that part, but whatever." An eye roll. "I told her maybe if she wasn't so busy sleeping with her sources I'd call her when I need bailing out."

Will tries and fails to hide a snort. Ellie smiles at that. "Right?" She flips her hair, looking painfully like her sister for a moment. "Later, neighbor."