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Once released, Heather ran. She didn't stick around and thankher 'hero', no. Mostly because she thought that he'd kill her if she did. So, pumping her arms as hard as she could, she fled the scene. Her heart thumped harder and harder and she could make out the sight of steetlights whizzing past her. Her chest flurrished and heated up with a fire that made her want to scream. She kept pushing, faster and faster, ignoring the fire in her chest.

Ghost smirked when she ran off, "You three better stay out of trouble!" he snarled then he darted off down the Ally. Ghost was a master, and new every back route in new york. He paused for a moment and listened.. he heard Heather coming and as she darted by he grabbed her arm and stopped her, "Hey relax!"

Heather yelped when she was grabbed, she shook so hard that it was hard for her to stand. For a moment she thought about fighting him, but the decided against it when he started talking. "Who are you? What do you want? Listen, I don't have any money!" Heather said, trying to hard to keep her cool, but she was scared, and it showed in her speaking.

"Relax." Ghost repeated. Stepping back into the shadows so that the lights didn't fall on him. "I'm not going to hurt you or take your money." he repeated, feeling her shaking while he gently held her arm.

Heather slowly began to calm down. She felt her shaking stop and her heart begin to slow. "Okay..I'm relxed...Who are you? What do you want?" Her tone was calmer now, more collected.

He was silent, "My name's Ghost, that's all I can tell you I'm afraid." he replied simply. "And I don't want anything, i mean except to see if you where alright." he said letting her arm go and standing a a straigh posture, moonlight glared off his glasses.

"Have we met before? You seem...so...familiar." Heather said, trying to study his face more.

Ghost turned his head so she couldn't get a great look at him, "No, we've never met." he replied.

"Something about your voice..." Heather faltered, then put a hand on his shoulder, turning him gently "Atticus?" She asked, breathless.

((I can change that, if you want.))

He looked straight at her, not removing his hood or his glasses, but he let the light from the lamps shine onto his face. All traces of 'Ghost' had vanished, now Atticus was left staring at her with terror. Before he could react the sound of police sirens blared. Those thugs had gone to the police, and claimed, they where the ones who had been mugged. Atticus cast one final, sorrowful, look at Heather before turning and barreling away, he ran into a trash can, knocking it over, but he continued to run until he vanished into the shadows.

((it okay, I like it))

"Wait! Atticus! Come back!" She yelled, trying to run after him, but then hearing the sirens and realizing why he had ran. She stood for a moment, her hands shaking. Atticus was Ghost? No. She was dreaming. The sirens blared louder and Heather cursed, she didn't want to be a witness. So, Heather ran back to her house, surprisingly she was undisturbed on her run home.

She exploded into her apartment and slammed the door behind her, a picture frame swung on the wall and fell, causing a loud shattering noise. Heather flinched at the noise and stomped to the kitchen, where she hopped up on the counter and whipped out her phone. She knew it was late, but he was up. He had to be. Heather dialed Atticus's number and pressed her phone firmly to her ear. She waited for him to pick up.

Out of the corner of her mind, Heather feared that he wouldn't. She knew his big secret now, did he even want to see her anymore? Did he even like her? Nonsense, she thought, of course he likes me. Jasper's small mew came from behind Heather, making her jump in surprise and feel her heart beat do a flip. She cursed at the little silver cat and pulled him on her lap. But Jasper wiggled out of her grasp, she smelled like a filthy dog, and cats don't like dogs.

Atticus arrived home, out of breath a sweating. He slammed the door shut, unbuttoned his bullet proof vest, then ripped it and the hoodie off, doing the same with his glasses. Sure enough, once he was shirtless the gruesome scar on his should became more visible. It was from a burn he received after a motorcycle accident. He flopped down onto the couch and buried his face in his hands. Feeling lost... His phone, which he'd placed on the little coffee table infront of him, started to ring. Atticus lifted his head and instantly knew who was on the other end of that line. He felt his heart break, he wanted to talk to her, he wanted nothing more than to hear her voice on the other end of that line... But she knew the truth, and he didn't want to face it. He stares at the phone while it ringed, again and again. Finally before the call could cut off he grabbed the phone and hit the answer button, before putting it to his ear. "...Heather?..." he answered after another moment of silence.

Heather was left speechless when he answered, she hadn't really thought about what she was going to say. All Heather had wanted was for him to pick up. So there she was, her mouth open, as if to say something, her phone clutched tightly to her ear.

"Thanks.." She said simply. Maybe to the fact that he picked up, maybe to the fact that he saved her life. Either way he would have gotten it. Now, Heather didn't know what to say. Should she go into casual talk? Converse about the weather and it's ups and downs? Instantly accusing him wouldn't be the right thing to do. Or would it? "Ghost...?" It was a huge question, 'Thanks, Ghost?!' what kind of an idiot am I?! She thought bitterly. Heather chomped down on her lip, the tension between the phone static growinf.

'Ghost'... The name stung Atticus's eardrum. She knew, the one person he thought the world of, knew. She knew he was a criminal, he was a fake, the detective bit was a cover up... She knew he was a killer, and nothing less. "Heather... please... don't call me that..." he said calmly clutching his phone tightly.

Heather gripped the phone tightly. She looked at the tile infront of her. Everything was mixed up now, but did she think any less of Atticus? No. Never. He saved her life, and she owed hom greatly. Heather squeazed the phone a little and nodded, but she knew he couldn't see her.

"Can you come over, please? I need to see you. You saved my life..." Heather faltered at her end, her voice catching.