Chapter Text
Gerry had been tracking the bloody book for a solid two weeks, but of course the second he figured out which charity shop it had fallen into, it got picked up by some poor sod with no idea of the torment in their future. He had managed to get the credit card slip from the bored cashier, but by then the book had apparently been gone for a good few days.
He chewed lightly on a lollipop he'd grabbed from the front desk on his way back to the library computers as he settled in for another lengthy Internet search. (Surely there couldn't be that many E. M. Llewellyns with sewing interest in Bedford). He let his mind wander over what little he could dig up about the book from his brief jaunt to the Institute.
The Complete and Proper Dolls' Dressmaker was a pattern book apparently published in 1907 by an otherwise underwhelming dressmaker and seamstress who disappeared shortly after the book was sent to printing. This particular edition had fallen into the hands of Jurgen Leitner sometime around 1991 and had apparently been locked up away from even his assistants due to the occasional phenomenon it would incite. One of the statements had been sourced from one of the gentleman who had felt it's call- he had reportedly been found attempting to sew buttons through one of his fellow's eyelids- after removing most of his soft tissue and replacing them with fabric facsimiles stuffed with the original pieces.
Gerry sighed as he closed another tab in irritation before clicking his way back to the social media for the various sewing clubs in the area, resolved to go through their members name by name if that's what was necessary. He barely noticed the sun dimming where it streamed through the windows, until a curt clearing of the throat notified him of a waif of a woman standing at the corner of the computer table he had taken over with his notes and references.
"Sir I'm sorry to say we've closed. If you could please pack up your things and log off we'd much appreciate it."
Gerry was already gathering his notes and tucking them into the inner breast of his coat, "Right, sorry. The time must've gotten away from me."
He left quickly, cursing yet another research period as a bust as he started the trek back to his hotel room. He had barely cleared 10 blocks when another set of footsteps joined his, slightly lagging behind.
Gerry stopped. The other footsteps stopped just a moment too late, stride markedly longer. Gerry palmed his knife and half turned to find Michael grinning down at him from about 10 feet behind, one long hand raised in a wave. It took two more steps and was abruptly nearly within his space.
"Hello, Gerry! I knocked again, and I know what you said before, but after waiting so long for you to answer I had to check. And then your flat was empty! But I've found you. How goes the hunt? Realised you need to be closer to home yet?"
"Michael, what- how did you find me?" Gerry narrowed his eyes against the glittering at the edges of his vision as it somehow brightened even more.
"Where there's a door, there's a way!" It chortled as it spoke, the laugh and words layering over one another as they echoed through the street.
"That's not- nevermind. What do you mean closer to home?" Gerry focused fully on Michael, ignoring the impossibility of its soft-sharp hair and overwide eyes and grin in search of the promise of answers in its expression.
"You've been gone a terribly long time, missed all the fun! A slew of disappearances, some bodies. I heard The Archivist has been flush with new stories." It giggled again and began walking, pausing a second to allow Gerry to catch up.
"Stories about the Stranger?" Gerry started back towards his motel as he spoke, Michael keeping pace easily.
"Ooooh, I didn't ask, I suppose. Perhaps. Missing pieces, certainly. Rather gross to think about, being a jigsaw of a person; don't you think?" It linked it's fingers together imperfectly as though to illustrate.
"Michael," Gerry took a breath, reminding himself any information was a boon, even if it was wrapped in the form of confusion incarnate. "Could you please, for once, give me a straight answer?"
Michael's face became a caricature of disgust, "Never. It is not within my nature." And then his form wavered, like a reflection in a funhouse mirror before it snapped back into a more familiar shape.
"Right, of course." Gerry tried not to roll his eyes, but mostly failed. "But if I returned to my flat, I would be closer to the book than I am now?"
"Well you certainly wouldn't be eighty-nine kilometres away!" It smiled again, grin bright in the darkened street.
Gerry did some quick mental maths and realised what it was telling him by not telling him -it was coincidence that the eureka moment coincided with them arriving at the hotel. Gerry slowed as they approached the doors in.
"Michael, this is a very good thing for a friend to do. Thank you for telling me. I have a train to catch." He regretted the praise as soon as he uttered it, a high pitched shriek of glee emerging from the monster and echoing under the hotel awning where they stood.
"Glad to help a friend, Gerry! I suppose I could leave you to your travels." And then it skipped over to and through the mirrored glass that made up the front of the lobby, the surface shimmering that sickly yellow before returning to its previous reflective grey.
Gerry wasted no time in gathering his things and checking out, listing in his head the things to do once he arrived. He allowed himself a small smile as he settled onto the late train to London.