A/N: Thank you all for reading! I hope you enjoyed reading as I enjoyed writing it! As always, all comments are welcomed :D And yes...this is the end.

13: Heard You Call My Name

(Under the Dome – Of Monsters and Men)

The restaurant was busy with the dinner rush, and Sanji was finishing up his shift. It wasn't the fanciest place on the block, but the pay was dependable and the staff was courteous. The regulars that often visited were quietly friendly and non-invasive. It was a place he'd remained loyal to since he was a teenager. While the cooks were loud and rowdy, often bothering him with rambunctious teasing and such, Sanji had long since tuned them out.

He often snapped back, but kept the peace. He wondered if the man Law was grieving was similar to him. To him, it felt like he was a failing project, and he wasn't sure if he should be disappointed or relieved of that.

Pen in mouth, he gathered up the plates that were ready to be distributed. He took them out carefully, depositing them in front of the diners that thanked him quietly. He then refilled their drinks and headed back to the kitchen. His feet were hurting from a long shift, and his head pounded with a headache, but he was caught in a fog. He wasn't sure if he were in a state of grief himself, or if he just didn't remember what life was like before Law invaded it.

He tried not to think about that man. If he wanted, Law could visit him again. Sanji hoped that he did. As awkward as the situation was, the company would be appreciated. He hadn't given the thought to being this alone – now that his family was gone – but now that he was in the midst of the aftermath, he felt a little overwhelmed.

It was best to continue working like nothing was wrong.

After dealing with the bill, he clocked out, gathered his bag and jacket, and headed out from the back. The night was cold, but it didn't smell of moisture. The ghosts that lingered along his route home hurried after him, speaking over each other about their circumstances, or commenting randomly about their surroundings. Some looking for a way home, some looking for a solution. None of which he could help with. He hunched his shoulders, then pulled out the earbuds that were tucked within the inside of his jacket pocket.

It was the jean jacket with the fur. It smelled of a man that was no longer there, so Sanji felt like he was in possession of a stranger's abandoned jacket. After slipping in the earbuds, he trekked to the bookstore. But the ghosts continued to follow him around with their lurching questions and desperate whispers, and despite the music playing in the buds, Sanji couldn't find the peace he needed to concentrate on his task.

He left the bookstore, glancing up at the night sky. He wondered what the stars looked like. Glancing in the windows (old habit, looking for a mother that was no longer there), he was startled to see someone he didn't expect to see. In alarm, he hunched his shoulders and quickened his step.

Alarm, surprise and anxiety raced through his veins. What do I say? What do I say? What do I say? he thought frantically. What should I show? Should I be angry? Impatient? Uncaring?

Because he couldn't decide, he crossed the street without waiting for the light to change. Once he could overtake the block corner, he pushed into a corner mart as people were leaving it, and pressed up against the inside doorway. He watched the tall man in black walk past, and to Sanji, it was like watching a predatory stranger stalk away.

He winced up at the ceiling lights, frustrated with himself. Fuck, I'm the one that invited him, he reminded himself impatiently.

It could be important.

It could be nothing.

I'm not the one.

He crossed space to the back coolers, and considered his beverage choices because the cross clerk in front was watching him suspiciously. Choosing a low sugar drink, he paid for it and left the store – going in the opposite direction.

He wasn't sure what to say to Law. No words came to mind. He felt like he didn't have a place for words. The man was embroiled in his own grief and return, so what could Sanji even say to make him feel any better?

Insecurity iced his veins. As upset as he was when the man left him that night, Sanji felt he had no steady foothold in his world, anymore. At the same time…

He paused in mid-step, forcing other pedestrians to walk around him. He chewed on the inside of his lip, thinking that it was he who invited the contact. Closing his eyes with building courage, he decided that hiding was going to do nothing. Probably all the man wanted was some continued closure. Maybe his clothes back. Not like Sanji could fit them, anyway.

But that night passed by without a visit, and the next day, he worked another long shift with scattered thoughts and a sense of jumpiness that made him fumble orders and forget the small things. He felt a sense of relief when his shift neared its end, and he hastily took the trash out and washed his hands to check on the last of his customers. But before he could, his coworker pointed out loudly that one of his tables had just been seated.

Sanji saw that he couldn't avoid it this time. So he took a steadying breath and walked over to greet the man that wore his clothing like armor; a black vest, stark black tie and white, pressed shirt tucked into belted trousers. He hadn't even removed his heavy black jacket with the hood. His sword hung from one shoulder – still in that weird carrying case. The overall presentation was accompanied with a hat Sanji had never seen before.

"Hey," he greeted (a little stiffly, he noticed). Once the man glared up at him from the brim of his hat, Sanji found some strength. "You want a menu? Or a recommendation?"

"I didn't come here to eat," Law said (a little stiffly, Sanji also noticed).

"Then get out. Simple. My shift's over."

"Then do I meet you in the back, or in front?"

Grumbling, Sanji told him to meet him out back, and the man left the restaurant without acknowledging anyone else. Minutes later, he slowly stuffed his arms into his jacket (his own, as he didn't think he could bear Law asking for his jacket back) as he walked outside, adjusting the sleeves to fit over his plain white shirt and black trousers. He approached the other man standing by the owner's gleaming white BMW, looking fairly intimidating.

All of him was intimidating, Sanji noticed with discomfort. The other one would flop or slouch himself like some cat without any threat.

Once aware he was dragging his feet, Sanji hastily cleaned his steps and looked up at him warily. He then dropped his eyes with frustration, because he was being pierced with eyes that looked more amber than the grey ones that he was used to.

"They told me you can see and hear all of them," Law said slowly. "And touch them. They can touch you."

"Yeah?"

"So…there is a task."

"I'm not doing it," Sanji then said quickly. "I told you – him- them before, I'm not doing that sort of thing. I don't want to be involved."

"Why? This has no relation to you."

"Why are you still doing this?" Sanji then returned, looking at him with disbelief. "After all you went through, why are you still doing this?"

"Unfortunately…" Law glared off down the alley, shifting his feet with a sign of impatience. "This task is…different. Mine only works if they approach me."

"It has…it has a gleam, right? Can't you see the light?"

"No, that's why I'm here, asking you to help."

Sanji wore a tight frown because, despite himself, those magic words just undid him. He could say 'no' and walk away – but he'd obsess about it. He'd agonize over the possibilities, upset that he lost out on a chance to have his days occupied with others rather than just himself and the litany of ghosts that accosted him.

He'd get to know the man this way. He could. Settle some of the restless agony that constantly roiled inside of him because Law wasn't the one(s) he knew. Despite it, he wanted to know him. Wanted to be close – maybe Law wouldn't feel the same towards him anymore, but…Sanji had hope.

Gruffly, he said, "I have some time. But I won't be ripping out hearts anymore."

Law gave him a puzzled look as Sanji anxiously rubbed his own palms, trying to exorcise the remembrance of that situation away. Discomforted, Sanji then turned away from him. "You know where to find me, I guess."

Law was quiet for a few moments, but his face twitched with mild frustration as he then said, "We weren't paid. For…the…exorcising at your father's house."

Sanji nodded to show that he heard, giving a shrug as he continued walking (slowing his step regardless). "That happens. Threaten him with exposure of his desperation, and he'll pay. Probably with interest."

"Can't you tell him?"

"I've been dead to my father before the others could kick the bucket. Just dress up in the costume you were wearing before and show up on his doorstep. He'll write you a check right then and there."

"I'm going there now," Law then said, having to walk after him to be heard. "But considering the choice of costumes, and those idiots' drunkenness, they aren't sure of which one I took."

Sanji stopped, wearing an expression of chagrin. As clumsily as those words left the other man's mouth (with an unfamiliar stammer, and unconsciously unlike the image Law presented), Sanji felt like these were just closeted words. He was extending an invitation, and it was up to Sanji to take it. He couldn't quite ignore it. He closed his eyes with exhaustion, hating himself and his weakness.

Nearly an hour later, the pair of them walked up the steps to the house, leaving Shachi sitting in the white van at the driveway. The air was heavily awkward between them, so not much had been said. It was as if they were both feeling each other out without trying to draw attention to it, and failing to be so obvious. Sanji had the thought that Law had come to peace with something, because his eyes weren't so heavily shadowed with that grief he'd seen the other night, and wanted to ask. He decided it wasn't his place to do so.

For Law, he was battling nervousness and anxiety because after he'd come to peace with himself, now he felt like he was caught on a line between betrayal and loyalty. Not that he was forcing himself to think this would lead anywhere (maybe) but parts of himself felt hopeful that maybe this was what the waiter meant when he said he'd find his way back to him.

After Sanji depressed the doorbell and knocked when there was no answer, he looked to Law. "He's probably at work. Open the door so I can look at something while he's gone."

Law furrowed his brow with confusion, pulling at the white collar at his neck. The frock smelled like a stranger's sweat and polyester, and it made his skin crawl. He glanced over at Shachi, who issued a thumbs up from the van. Moments later, Sanji pulled the door open.

The moment he stepped in, he knew; the house was empty. Niji and Reiju's presence had been an immediate feel in the air, a weighty expectation that they would venture out from the shadows to greet him with their individual ways. It was almost disappointing to know that they wouldn't do so, anymore. Law noticed the smell immediately, exhaling heavily – Sanji caught it moments later. He wore an expression of dread, hand to his nose as Law ventured into the foyer with purpose. He looked back at Sanji cautiously, seeking his permission.

"I'll call the cops," he murmured. "I don't want to see him."

Law nodded, then continued his way in. The mansion was too large for one person to live in comfortably; he didn't know the family, but he could picture the man as he'd seen him in the newspapers. He found Judge sitting in his study. With the way he was hunched over the sprawl of papers on his desk, it was apparent the man had some sort of health issue. The smell was horrendous, so he held his breath. Glancing at the paperwork while he heard Sanji talk to the 911 dispatcher, he noticed the bills and red notices. The eviction letters, the court documents; he noticed that the pictures standing on the desk were of his wife and kids – but no Sanji.

He wondered what Judge died of. He exhaled his held breath as he left the study, following Sanji outside.

"I couldn't answer their questions, should they question my presence here," Law told him. "If you'd like, we can wait – "

"Just go. It'd be like handing over the paperwork for a stranger," Sanji told him. Discomforted, Law turned and headed back to the van while Sanji crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe to stare down at the lit hall. He wondered when Judge passed; he didn't feel any sadness in it. Just acceptance. He heard the van pull away, sirens in the distance. Not everyone that passed left behind a ghost – he was positive Judge wouldn't remain behind when his family was gone.

His headache pounded at his temples, and he reached up to wearily pull his glasses off to rub at his eyes.

"What is your story, so I can corroborate with it?" Law asked, pulling on his jacket and startling Sanji with his presence.

"I told you to go," Sanji said, seeing that Shachi was the only one to have left. "There's no need to corroborate with anything."

"But you're alone now, right? Robin told me of what happened," Law said with noticeable discomfort, zipping up his jacket. Sanji reacted with a startled turn to face him, shoving his glasses back on.

"You know Robin?"

"Aye, for a long time. Before the world wide web – "

"Just say internet, Optimus Prime."

Law collected himself with a slight flush. He heard the waiter in that sarcasm, so his heart jolted ever so slightly. Feeling that response allowed a shaky exhale, followed by an ever so slight twist of his mouth. He hastily corrected himself.

"The internet," he amended touchily, "before that, she was the one handing me the news of where I might find my next hit."

"Interesting. She never alluded to the fact that she knew you. I mean…personally."

"She wasn't close to that other person…s."

Sanji watched the patrol car with the flashing lights pull up, the officers inside giving them suspicious looks. He swallowed hard. "The corroboration is that I came here with a friend to check on my father. He occasionally notified me for a regular checkup. We're not close. Never were. Just…answer what you think is best of an estranged family."

"I have fake ID. A solid background. They can run anything on me, and find their answers."

Sanji nodded faintly, lowering his arms to his sides, descending the steps to meet the greeting officers, an ambulance with a lack of siren but flashing lights pulling into the driveway.

: :

When the day came for them to take a trip to the church out of town, Sanji was an anxious bundle of nerves. Robin stood next to him as they waited down on the street for the white van, her umbrella up and over them. The rain hit the material and slide away from them – falling too thick and hard for anyone to notice that Sanji wasn't affected. He wasn't sure what it meant to wear to some ghost hunt that may or may not have some demonic presences (Shachi's excited words and Penguin's disappointment), so he'd thrown on his overalls and paired that with a light sweater that had a hood, all-weather boots laced tight. He rolled the cuffs of his overalls so they wouldn't get wet.

"Nervous?" Robin asked him, tilting her head to look down at him.

"Not really," Sanji lied. "Just…curious."

"I'm sure they're all just as nervous," she assured him. "Demonic things are a little intimidating. But they've worked their fair share. Remain confident."

Sanji nodded, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "I don't think I've ever had the pleasure of running into those."

"Your mother did well to protect you, Sanji," Robin said.

Was it really that? Sanji wondered. As he exhaled, he could see his breath. "I went to Corazon the other day. Just to…make sure things were okay. Have you…ever seen his face?"

"Sometimes, we just like to remain hidden to strangers," Robin murmured.

"Wonder why he chose to be like that…can you choose your gleam?"

"It depends on the mood. You cannot see mine?"

"No. Do you have one? He would've noticed."

"He's seen it – the others cannot."

"Weird you never mentioned it, before."

"You never asked the right questions."

Sanji had to admit that he didn't. He just thought it would be intrusive to ask without permission. He ducked his head, watching his heels bounce as he paced nervously.

"It's not that I'm scared," he felt he had to mention, "I just that I don't know what I'm getting into."

"It's fine if you are."

"He just makes me so nervous. It's like talking to an old man that has no idea how to have fun."

Robin chuckled. "So it's something you identify with?"

"I know how to have fun," Sanji mumbled, feeling himself flush. "I just choose not to."

The van screeched up to the sidewalk, Penguin leaning out from the passenger side window to yell, "Get in, loser! We're catching ghosts today!"

Sanji wrinkled his nose with disdain, then glanced at Robin. She smiled brightly at him.

"Do your very best!"

As Sanji hurried over, the side door thrown aside by Jean Bart and his can of beer, Robin added, "Oh, Sanji?"

He looked back at her, blinking under the falling rain.

"Don't catch a cold, sweetie."

He nodded and waved to show that he heard, and clambered into the van as Robin waved at them.

"Who were you talking to?" Penguin asked once he took a seat in the back, buckling himself in. Law had a book on his lap, head bent to concentrate on the task.

"A friend," Sanji answered, shivering as Jean Bart shut the door and resettled in his chair.

"Is she hot?" Shachi asked with interest.

"Big boobs?" Penguin asked hopefully. Sanji stared back at them with disgust.

"It was Robin, morons," Law muttered. "Still behaving like uneducated virgins that could only dream of seeing a woman's body in real life. Make me sick."

The pair of them thrust their middle fingers at him, booing him before resettling in their seats with complaints. Jean Bart elbowed Law before slurping at his beer, Law closing his book with a heavy sigh. He looked out the window as the van jerked forward, Shachi still grumbling at the wheel while Penguin fumed in his seat, arms crossed tightly over his chest.

In the bench seat behind him, Sanji could see him looking into the distance with a scowl to his face. Like an old man! he thought, wondering if that old man he'd seen at the bar was his actual appearance.

"Maybe this task will make you reconsider your choices," Law then said, addressing the window. Sanji couldn't see too much of his side profile, but the reflection showed enough to inform him that Law was talking to him.

Sanji wasn't sure what he could reconsider of something that sounded slightly dramatic, but deep inside, he was glad to be included. If he could be helpful…then maybe it make him noticeable. But he couldn't allow that sort of vulnerability to show.

So he said, "I'm aware that the elderly tend to make shows a tad more dramatic than they actually are, but I'm open minded."

"Ooh, he's sensitive about his age," Sanji heard Shachi whisper dramatically towards Penguin.

"Here we go," Penguin commented in the same volume.

Sure enough, Law turned in his seat to look back at Sanji with a scowl. "You're going to regret taking this lightly. And I'm not babying you if you're not willing to prepare yourself."

"And yet you asked me to help. I've seen plenty. Nothing will surprise me, anymore," Sanji muttered, looking out the window just to avoid feeling uncomfortable with that focus. "I just don't think that this task could be any more showy than that Scottish guy."

Law resettled in his seat to glare out the window. Sanji sneaked peeks at him via the reflection to judge his mood, his hands fisted upon his lap.

Shachi, Penguin and Jean Bart exchanged glances between each other.

Night made its presence known in the lights that blinked on, windows alighting individually and in groups in various buildings. Pedestrians became scarce in various sections, rain falling down with a strength that was familiar to those caught in it.

Somewhere at the edge of town, a church's windows bloomed with the color of lightening that sent its occupants scurrying for safety.