After the long walk from the hospital, Kant opened the trunk of his car and tried to lower Gabriel into the trunk, but the latter clung to him.
"No way. You want me to get inside the trunk? Can't I just sit in the back?"
"It's safer this way," Kant pried his hands off, attempting to fold him in.
Gabriel shook his head desperately, holding on awfully tight for someone who couldn't walk properly, "No, please, not the trunk. I don't like being locked in places."
"Come on, bear with it a little. It's not a long drive back."
"I really don't like tight spaces. Kant, please."
Kant let out a long sigh, staring at the pleading eyes. He could feel his patience thinning, but the more he looked at Gabriel's puppy-eyed expression, the more his resolve cracked.
His mind raced through the potential consequences of his decision. The trunk was definitely the safest option for avoiding detection, but the sight of Gabriel's white-knuckled grip stabbed right into Kant's conscience.
The ghost's request wasn't entirely unreasonable given the circumstances. If it were him in Gabriel's position, he'd have... well... to be fair, he wouldn't have tried to get back to life in the first place. Which made the ghost's high spirits impressive. He deserved to be treated with some basic humanity, or whatever the ghost equivalent was.
"Fine, sit in the back. Just stop looking at me like that," Kant relented, pushing the trunk door back down.
Gabriel's face bloomed with relief. "Thank you. Seriously, thank you! I swear, I'll keep dead quiet in the back!"
Kant shook his head, chuckling despite himself. "Sure you will," he replied, opening the back door of the car.
Gabriel clambered into the back seat gratefully, still moving awkwardly but without the desperate air about him. Kant waited until he found a spot and settled in, then gave a brief nod and closed the door.
. . .
A surprisingly quiet drive later, the two got out of the car and simply walked into Kant's apartment building. It was an old building, so there weren't any surveillance cameras.
They stepped into the elevator, and Kant was ready to heave a sigh of relief, but as the door began to slide open on the third floor, his eyes caught sight of a green bomber jacket down the hall.
He moved by instinct, pushing Gabriel to the side of the elevator before the door could fully open. Kant hit the button to the fifth floor and slipped out alone.
Meanwhile, Gabriel, thrown off guard by the speedy turn of events, could only mumble a dazed "...huh?" as the elevator's door closed between them.
Hunter stood in front of Kant's apartment door, waiting for him with a large cardboard envelope in his grasp.
"Avery told me to drop this off," he announced in a bored tone.
Kant raised an eyebrow, keeping his voice flat, "You working as Avery's delivery man now?"
"Certainly better than wandering who-knows-where in the middle of the night." Hunter let out a dry scoff, shoving the envelope into Kant's chest, "I don't know where you've been, but I know for a fact it wasn't for work."
"You think I only leave the house for work?" Kant countered.
Hunter's eyes narrowed as he leaned closer to Kant. "I can see right through you. You better not be poking around the Everett company. If your petty revenge leads the wrong people to Jolly Wings, you're dead."
Kant smirked sarcastically. "Dead, huh? Will you kill me yourself?"
"Unlike you, I don't hesitate because of personal ties," Hunter stated coldly. "In fact, if I'd been at that warehouse instead of you, your wimpy friend wouldn't have lived long enough to yap about the Organization."
The corners of Kant's mouth twitched, his fingers curling into fists. "You son of a..."
"Woah, you're really mad!" came a sudden exclaim.
Kant's head jerked to the side, his eyes moving to Gabriel in his ghost form.
Hunter's brows furrowed as he followed Kant's gaze, looking behind his back. But once he saw nothing, his expression turned from confusion to disgust. He must have concluded Kant was seeing things again.
"I don't get how Avery still lets you take jobs, you're clearly mental. Get some help, for fuck's sake," Hunter muttered, leaving.
"You should get some help!" Gabriel followed Hunter all the way to the stairwell, pointing a finger at him. "Learn some human decency, you colossal jerk!"
Once Hunter left, Gabriel trailed back to Kant's side. "What was that about? I could sense the anger radiating from you all the way from the fifth floor."
"Where did you leave the body?" Kant countered, rushing into the stairwell.
"Between fifth and fourth floor."
Kant ran up two sets of stairs, his footsteps echoing in the eerily quiet building. He could hear his own heart beating fast in his chest as he prayed no one found the body before him.
Fortunately, the corpse sat in the corner of the stair landing, leaned against the wall with closed eyes. Without the ghost possessing it and making faces, it looked like a porcelain doll.
Kant let out a sigh of relief, his shoulders dropping as his heart rate slowly returned to normal. The large envelope almost slipped out of his hand. He glanced at it, reminded of its presence, then handed it over to the ghost, "Hold this."
Gabriel took it, eyeing the envelope curiously. "What's that? Another deal?"
"Yeah," Kant grunted as he lifted the body up to carry it down to the third floor.
Gabriel noticed the agitation in Kant's movements, but didn't comment on it, instead following behind quietly.
Once they entered the apartment, Kant locked the door, then walked in and kicked all stuff off the long coffee table, freeing the space for the corpse.
The ghost fell into the cushions with a sigh, leaning his head on the back of the sofa.
"Man, possessing is hard. I don't know how evil spirits can stay angry for years, possessing people and what not," Gabriel murmured, slurring his words lazily. "I don't have that much anger in me."
Kant wanted to say that evil spirits didn't exist, but at that point, if someone had told him unicorns were real, he might have believed them.
"What were you talking about in the morgue? About you being drugged?" Kant mentioned, straightening the body on the table.