A Ghost With No Name- Bl- Officer and Thief

Chapter Thirty- The Weight of a Name

Elias sat still as the others spoke, his fingers interlaced in front of him. His face betrayed nothing.

Inside, however, his thoughts churned.

Zev is exposed.

He hadn't thought much of it at first. Zev was a survivor—he knew how to avoid trouble. But a serial killer targeting people like him?

No. That was different. That was dangerous in a way Elias couldn't ignore.

When the unit assignments were given, Elias spoke before anyone else could.

"I'm taking Lower West Side."

No one questioned him. Just like always.

He exhaled slowly through his nose, forcing himself back into work mode. This wasn't about Zev.

Except it was.

Because the moment the meeting ended, instead of handling administrative tasks, Elias walked toward his locker. Shrugged on his coat. Checked his gun. Adjusted his badge.

And then, before he could second-guess himself, he was out the door.

Looking for Zev.

---

Patrol was quiet. It usually was at this hour—too late for morning workers, too early for the nightlife to take over. Elias moved through the streets with practised ease, his gaze sweeping the familiar alleyways and side streets.

He found Zev exactly where he expected.

Perched on a bench outside a convenience store, hoodie pulled up, elbows resting on his knees. His eyes were sharp as ever, flicking up the moment Elias approached.

Zev huffed. "Took you long enough. Thought maybe you'd finally decided to do your actual job instead of following me around."

Elias arched a brow. "You're that eager to be arrested?"

Zev smirked, tilting his head. "Depends. You into that kinda thing, officer?"

Elias didn't react. He never did. He had learned quickly that Zev enjoyed testing people—poking for weaknesses, for cracks in their composure. He wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

Instead, he crossed his arms. "The Phantom's getting bolder. I don't want you near any of this."

Zev scoffed. "Yeah? Well, what you want and what I need don't exactly match up."

Elias clenched his jaw. He hated this. Hated that he had no real power here. That no matter what he said, Zev would keep doing what he had to in order to survive.

He wanted to tell him to stop. To leave this life behind. But he knew better than to think words alone would change anything. So instead, he pulled something from his coat. A small paper bag.

Zev frowned. "The hell is that?"

"Bread," Elias said simply. "You need food."

Zev didn't move. His smirk faltered, lips pressing together in something unreadable.

Elias didn't waver. Just stood there, arm extended, waiting.

This time, Zev didn't scoff. Didn't tell Elias that feeding him isn't going to "fix all his problems". His jaw didn't tense. His fingers didn't twitch like he wanted to shove the bag away, like he wanted to shove Elias away.

This time, after a long moment, he took it.

Not with his usual sharp movements. Not like he was swiping something off a table before anyone could notice.

He took it carefully. Intentionally.

Elias saw the difference.

Zev stared at the bag in his hands. His thumb brushed over the folded paper. He swallowed hard, then quickly turned his head away, like looking at it too long would make him weak.

"Tch." His voice was quieter. "You're a real pain, you know that?"

Elias didn't respond. He just watched him.

Eventually, Zev ripped open the bag and took a bite, chewing like it was nothing, like it didn't matter.

But it did.

They sat there in silence.

And when Elias finally stood to leave, Zev's voice stopped him.

"...You're different, you know."

Elias turned slightly. "How so?"

Zev didn't look at him. Just tapped his fingers against the bag, gaze flicking to the side. "You just... are."

Elias watched him for a moment longer. Then, finally, he nodded.

"Get some rest, Zev."

And with that, he walked away.

But as he made his way back toward his car, something lingered in his mind.

He had spent his whole life following rules. Had spent years being the man people expected him to be—disciplined, controlled, untouchable.

Yet, with Zev...

He was different.

And for the first time in a long, long time—

He didn't want to go back.