Chapter Text
Zoey had never felt like she had a lack of anything.
Well, tact, sometimes, maybe. But not intentionally.
If anything, the opposite was true.
Too many words.
Too many ideas.
Too Korean.
Speaking too fast.
Being too clingy.
Trying too hard.
She'd never felt not enough before.
She'd never caused harm by being less.
Until the night she ran out of blades.
It had been a regular evening of patrolling when everything changed.
(Wild, how patrolling had become a ‘regular night’. How normal it’d become. What would Zoey from five years ago have thought of her now?)
They'd seen their fair share of demons.
Okay, maybe not as many as Rumi or Celine, who had literally been doing this their whole lives, and it had only been a year and a half since Rumi moved to town and they started patrolling together, but still. They'd seen a lot in a relatively short amount of time but nothing compared to the size of the monster that night.
One minute they were walking past the real estate office off Ponderosa, part of their usual route, when a loud crash from an alleyway drew their attention. Rounding the corner in a hurry, Zoey and Rumi skidded into Mira, who stopped dead in shock at the sight before them.
A massive beast, easily fifteen feet tall, made of seemingly pure muscle. Its lower jaw protruded with massive fangs, and it had horns protruding over two glowing yellow eyes in a sea of black. Large, clawed hands gripped a spiked club that was easily as long as its entire torso, but all of that managed to pale in comparison to the fact that it was literally on fire.
Or maybe it was made of fire?
It was hard to tell.
Either way, there was a lot of fire, and that, generally, wasn't a good thing.
"Fire bad," is what ended up coming out of Zoey's mouth, and had she not been struck dumb at the sight in front of her, she might have cringed at the lack of eloquence. As it was, even Rumi was mute and nodded in stunned agreement with wide eyes.
"It's huge," Mira gaped.
The demon roared and the flames flared in response.
Rumi snapped into action, sliding into Slayer mode like a well-worn jacket and barked directions with the confidence of a general. "Zoey, fall back. Stay high, aim low. If we can take out the legs, we'll have a better shot of controlling this thing. Mira, pincer side flank with me." A sharp nod of understanding and they moved to get into position but not before Rumi reached out and grabbed each of their wrists. "This is the biggest thing we've ever faced. Be careful. And if I say bail, you bail. Got it?" Rumi's grip was tight, pressing, urgent. Her voice was even but firm and left no room for disagreement.
Before either of them could open their mouths to reply, Rumi was already sprinting toward the demon, unsheathing a sword from her back. Mira and Zoey traded an uneasy but determined glance before taking off in opposite directions.
All three of them splitting up had the demon's attention torn. It moved its head, trying to follow each of them but roared in frustration as Zoey made her way up the side of a building while Mira and Rumi approached from below. Rumi's blade caught the glare from streetlights and she used it to her advantage by angling her sword to flicker beams of light into the beasts' face. It closed its eyes and roared, flames bellowing out in irritation. Mira's glaive spun deadly in her hands and with a roar of her own, the two of them lunged low towards the demons' legs.
With each swipe, the demon's club came within dangerously close range but Rumi and Mira were able to parry and leap away before any contact was made. Zoey carefully watched from a fire escape, waiting for an opening to strike.
While not particularly agile, the beast made up for it with brutal strength. Rumi leapt out of the way into a forward roll but the club made impact with the ground, causing a sickening crack in the asphalt. Zoey tensed at the indent and gripped her knives tighter.
Mira used the opportunity to strike and roared as she swung at the demon, catching its calf with the tip of her blade. The very air rippled with heat as it roared in fury, flames erupting higher in another burst. Mira winced at the heat and pulled back but her eyes opened wide in surprise when the weight shifted and she was jerked forward instead. She screamed and tried to shield herself.
The staff remained stuck to where it had struck the demon, the metal actually melting into its body. Zoey didn't even remember jumping before she was mid-air and the knives were out of her hands. The blades barely did anything but the demon waved its arms in irritation as it tried to bat them out of the way. The distraction was enough to allow Mira to stumble away, shoulders hunched as if protecting herself, and a shiver of fear ran down Zoey's spine. She was too far away to see anything but threw another knife down to provide cover, grateful that Mira was on two feet and no blood was visible.
Rumi rejoined the battle, pulling out another sword. She always carried a duet of blades against her back, but rarely used the second. Rumi preferred both hands on a hilt but learned to never regret bringing an extra. Mira and Zoey had always kind of teased her for it, Zoey remarking that it made her look like Deadpool, but she’d never been so grateful for Rumi's over-preparedness.
Her face a mask of fury, she was a whirling Swiss army knife, hacking and slicing. There was a desisiveness to her movements, a rage that would have terrified Zoey had they not been allies. This demon was toast, she knew. It was only a matter of how and when.
Learning from what happened with Mira's glaive, Rumi controlled the swings so that the weapons made shallow slices without getting too deep into the flames. Zoey let loose a flurry of knives to keep the beast distracted enough to not harm Rumi.
It wasn't enough.
For all her anger and strength, the demon seemed to barely slow down at Rumi's onslaught. The club swung down like a death pendulum and Zoey could see even Slayer strength was ebbing as Rumi tried to dodge and defend all while avoiding the flames. As if deciding it was done playing with its food, the demon let out an earth-shattering roar that literally rumbled the very ground. Zoey could feel it reverberate on the fire escape and she gripped the iron railing, knuckles white with fear. The scene below her was growing more desperate by the moment.
Mira. Where was Mira??
The demon lumbered and Rumi tried to use that to her advantage, attacking from behind where it had more of a blind spot.
Unfortunately for Rumi, that also meant that she was blind to the demon's front.
It all started to slow down. At least, that's how Zoey would remember it.
Rumi, arms crossed to swing forward and slice with both swords, teeth bared, and a warrior's cry.
Zoey’s hand was already reaching for another blade when the demon switched the club from its right to its left hand.
Mira. Where was Mira?
Rumi couldn't see it.
Zoey's hand came up empty.
Zoey was out of knives and her blood froze in her veins as everything stopped. She's pretty sure she was screaming but her ears were ringing so hard that everything was muffled.
Rumi couldn't see it.
It was like the time when she was twelve and got so dizzy once that her dad took her to the doctor. One look in her ears had discovered the culprit was an almost entirely blocked ear canal that was affecting her sense of balance. She'd lain on the couch later that night and her dad put the ear drops in to loosen the wax and it was like someone had turned the volume button down on the entire world.
Sound dropped away until it was like being underwater. Swallowing sounded like drums and all Zoey could hear was the sound of her own heartbeat pounding like thunder.
Zoey didn't have any more knives and the demon was swinging the arm that Rumi wasn't expecting and where was Mira?
Once, when Zoey was seven, her cousin Greg, who was thirteen at the time, stole her favorite otter stuffed animal and threw it off the porch because he was bored and annoyed and thought it would be funny to watch her cry.
Rumi flew like the otter, her limbs flapping uselessly at her side when the club knocked her clean off her feet. It would have been funny, but it really really wasn't because there's nothing flappy or useless about Rumi because Rumi was strong and steady but she was flying through the air like a rag doll, braid trailing in the air.
Zoey must have screamed, but she doesn't remember it.
She doesn't remember anything except for the way Rumi hit the ground like a thrown bag of garbage, landing in a sickly thump, and lay far, far too still.
Zoey must have kept screaming, but she doesn’t remember it.
Rumi was lying on the ground and she wasn’t moving
Rumi was lying on the ground and she wasn’t getting up.
Zoey didn’t have any more knives and where was Mira.
Her entire body was screaming to move but she stood too fucking long on the fire escape before her feet finally jerk into motion and she swung over the railing. She's two stories up but remembered to pull her knees up to roll into the ground instead of hitting it head-on. The impact was still heavy enough to knock the wind out of her but it hadn't felt like there's any air in her lungs for the past minute anyway. She stumbled, the top of her sneakers skidding on the asphalt as she tried to get her feet under her.
Her legs felt like jelly and it's the most graceless she'd been since starting to train but Zoey finally scrambled to Rumi's side. With shaking hands, she reached forward to pull the collar of Rumi's top down enough to find her neck and exhaled in relief at the pulse underneath her fingertips.
She was out cold, but alive.
Rumi's alive.
She gripped the hoodie tight and slid Rumi's head in her lap, one hand digging into the fabric and the other gently, gently, gently, a hairs' breath away, hovering, barely even touching Rumi's head and trembling against her cheek.
There's heat at her back and Zoey didn’t even care, couldn’t even find it in her to be afraid of the lumbering giant ball of death behind her when Rumi was so still. There was a great intake of air at her back and Zoey squeezed her eyes closed waiting waiting waiting until -
A sound like a gigantic soda can opening and then a sudden onslaught of water shot past. Zoey twisted, careful to not jostle Rumi's head in her lap. The demon's screams crackled like gravel as water made contact, the force of the pressure causing its feet to slide a few feet backwards. Flames extinguish as the fire sizzled out, the entire body covered in steam as it hardened like rapidly cooling lava into rock. The demon's movements turned sluggish and slow as it died and fell to the ground like a boulder.
Eyes wide, Zoey looked up past the demon's still steaming body to the other side of the street where water pumping out of the fire hydrant slowed. There was Mira, panting heavily, leaning on the giant wrench attached to the top of the hydrant.
Zoey's entire being lurched forward at the sight, relief flooding every cell of her body. "Mira," she cried, wanting so badly to run to her but unwilling to jostle Rumi. Mira's grip on the wrench loosened with a wince and her face fell haggard and relieved and weary all at the same time as she locked onto the pair of them on the ground.
Mira's knees practically gave out as she kneeled on the ground next to them. Zoey relinquished Rumi's sweatshirt to grip Mira's shoulder and pressed their foreheads together. Breathe, she reminded herself. Mira's here. Rumi's breathing. It's okay. Breathe.
When Mira didn’t hold her back Zoey chalked it up to exhaustion at first but then she realized Mira was literally holding herself up hunched over - she wasn’t using her arms or hands to help balance. Gently Zoey tugged Mira's forearms. She brought them down from where they were cradled into her chest.
Zoey gasped.
Mira's hands were a mess of raw flesh. The palms were covered in blistered skin, red and white and glistening and angry. Second degree burns at least and a few spots looked worse. Zoey looked back up at her with a mix of horror and concern and Mira squirms.
"The shaft," she muttered. "When I was holding it…"
"Oh Mira," Zoey breathed in heartbreak. "How did…?"
Mira jerked her head towards the next street over. "There's a hardware store around the corner. Definitely broke in, though. Gonna be weird for them to explain to the cops that only a pipe wrench is missing."
"But your hands-"
Mira shrugged like it's no big deal. "Adrenaline. Hell of a drug."
Zoey fumbled at the fanny pack at her waist pulling out emergency gauze and painkillers and tears open a packet with her teeth. Mira winced when applied despite how delicately Zoey placed it on her skin. "Guess it's wearing off, though."
Something moved on Zoey's lap.
"Oh hey, Rumi." Mira's voice was even and the tone was casual but abject relief and concern painted her face as she looked down at her.
Two brown eyes blinked questioningly before Rumi hissed and scrunched her face in pain.
Mira's here. Rumi's awake. It's okay. Breathing came easier..
They managed to haul her to her feet slowly, Mira and Zoey each lifting from one armpit. Slayers must be like a black hole with a crushing density because Jesus, Rumi was heavy.
Zoey ran ahead a few blocks to where she'd parked her car and drove it back to where Rumi and Mira were resting on a bench not too far from the fight. She managed to load them into the back seat where they leaned against each other and headed to Celine's.
The silence of the car felt like a void. Usually keen to fill the quiet, Zoey couldn’t find it in her to speak. No one talked. Her throat was tight. Her knuckles were white against the steering wheel. Rumi and Mira were conscious but utterly exhausted and completely drained of energy. Zoey dragged her attention from the rear view mirror, but her skin itched every time they left her sight and she snapped her eyes back as often and as long as she could while keeping them on the road.
Mira's here. Rumi's awake. It's okay.
Except….it nearly wasn't.
Zoey had run out of knives.
She'd been….useless.
Stood on a fire escape watching like a spectator. Stood around like nobody. Like nothing. Like nothing at all.
The leather of the steering wheel squeaked underneath her grip as she twisted twisted twisted.
Mira's here. Rumi's awake.
She was useless.
But she didn't have to be.
It’s quiet.
Celine finally came down the stairs, having tucked Rumi in and made sure both girls were resting comfortably and asleep. She paused for a few moments in the hallway to take a few deep breaths and composed herself before entering the living room. She joined Zoey at the couch and sat down slowly next to her - near but not close.
"What….happened," Celine finally asked, gently but firmly, in an almost dazed tone.
Zoey's never been at a loss of words before. Words to Zoey were like water: expanded to fit whatever container. Zoey let words fill the shape of whatever silence she was met with. But now, with blood still staining the knees of her jeans, her mouth gaped a few times, not knowing where to begin, because it was still in pieces in her brain.
Zoey felt like she was still frozen on that fire escape, watching everything happen as if trapped in a body that isn't hers. Celine's face crumpled in sympathy and concern and she reached forward to place a warm hand on Zoey's knee and Zoey looked down, surprised at the gesture, not understanding why. But then Celine wiped Zoey's cheek with her other hand and Zoey realized she’d said that part out loud and tears were running down her face.
Zoey clamped her hand over her mouth but not before choking out, "They almost died and I did nothing."
"I'm sure that's not true," Celine countered calmly with far too much sympathy than Zoey deserved.
"It is," Zoey insisted. "They were hurt and I just…" Zoey stared emptily at her palms, open and empty toward the heavens as if asking for forgiveness she refused to grant herself. "I didn't do anything. I couldn't do anything. I had no more knives and I-I…I was useless."
They’d come in like a hot mess.
Stumbling through the front door, Zoey and Rumi supported Mira between them, who leaned heavily on their shoulders. Celine, reading on the couch with a cup of tea, jumped to her feet and hurried over before they even made it past the threshold, the book tumbling to the floor forgotten.
Celine immediately took stock, noting Mira’s hands and the bruising up her side, and ushered them upstairs to the bathroom for first aid.
“I’m fine,” Rumi had murmured as Celine furiously inspected the dried blood on Rumi’s brow where it had trickled down from her hairline, running her hands over Rumi’s head searching for injuries, smoothing down her arms and sides. “Just knocked out for a little. I’m okay,” Rumi reassured. A look was exchanged, something Zoey didn’t have the energy to think about let alone fully register- something tense but only held with love and concern. “I’m already healing.” Celine let her hand linger for a moment against Rumi’s cheek. Rumi closed her eyes and leaned into it before bringing attention back to Mira, who was starting to sag with draining adrenaline.
“Come on, let’s get you upstairs.”
Having already been reassured that Zoey had no injuries, Celine took Zoey’s spot at Mira’s left side and helped Rumi carry her up.
Zoey stood there, hands twitching restlessly at her side, not quite knowing what to do in the wake of their absence. She mindlessly headed toward the couch but stopped abruptly on the way there, turning toward a bookshelf she’d rarely paid much attention to in the past.
They didn’t spend that much time here. Celine and Rumi both appreciated their privacy and preferred to keep as much supernatural activity away from the condo complex to avoid being evicted due to property damage. They all spent most of their time at the school library as a more….appropriate and bigger location.
But something this time caught her eye.
Something this time tugged at her chest, and like a pull, turned her toward it.
Zoey had always wanted to look around of course, who wouldn’t? But Celine was…Celine and Rumi was Rumi and her parents had taught her better than that. She knew how to be respectful and tamper her eager curiosity.
But now, the bookshelf practically called to her.
‘On the Fundamentals of Magical Combat’
Suddenly Zoey recalled a section of the library that Celine kept under lock and key. The objects inside were always visible, so it wasn’t like the books weren’t possible to see, but they’d never captured her interest before.
Until now.
‘On the Fundamentals of Magical Combat’
Her fingers twitched.
Surely no harm could come from just reading a book, right? Books were meant to be read, after all. Zoey's would just take a peek to see if anything could even be useful. Just a look. It probably wouldn’t even help. She probably wouldn't even be able to do any or use any of it. She's probably as magically inclined as a paperweight. So it should be okay to just make sure. Right? Anything to help her girls. Anything that could keep them safe was something they should use to their advantage. Right?
“Celine, how did Rumi's mom die?”
Zoey didn’t even realize she asked the question out loud, let alone thought about it consciously. Celine stiffened and sucked in a breath.
Held it.
Didn’t release it for a few seconds that ticked by like eternity.
“I think,” Celine eventually said slowly, carefully, “That's a story for another day.”
The silence was thick. Zoey imagined what words were stuck in it. “I wasn’t fast enough.” “I wasn’t strong enough.” “I wasn’t powerful enough.”
A haunting stared back through Celine’s eyes. Zoey recognized it as the one behind her own tonight.
Zoey nodded, almost distantly, the numbness settling heavily around her shoulders like a used towel pulled too tight. Cold. Damp. Not a comfort, but a danger.
She got up and headed over to the front door to pull her bag over her shoulders and made to leave.
“Wait,” Celine called out, arm outreached. “You don’t want to….” stay, she meant, gesturing upstairs.
Zoey shook her head. “Thanks, but….I should probably head home before my dad realizes I’m gone. Besides,” she gestured to the whole of her and says sadly, “not a scratch on me. He won’t suspect a thing.”
Celine’s lips were tight and her brow folded. Zoey nodded back at her, acknowledging, before turning back and opening the door. Celine brought her hand up to receive it as Zoey pulled it wide and stepped through. “Night, Celine,” she said and twisted around to give a half-hearted wave on her way out.
Celine waved back. “Zoey,” she called out a moment later, a sharp edge to her voice. Zoey turned, quizzical. “I’m glad,” there’s a look like fear in her eyes. “I’m glad you’re okay,” she finished, care bleeding through the words.
Zoey merely nodded, flicked a smile, and walked away into the night. She could hear the door close quietly behind her, the latch sliding through, and rested her hand on the bag against her side.
When she got to her car, she took off her bag and placed it on the passenger seat. Waited a few moments, then flipped the cover open. A few textbook and spiral notebook spines were visible from the top, random sheets of paper sticking out haphazardly in both. At the end of the row was an older, bulky tome in cracked leather. On the Fundamentals of Magical Combat glittered in the streetlight, foil lettering catching the light. She stared at it for a moment before slapping the top back over the bag and turning on the engine to drive home.