Chapter Text
Andrew turned over to the counter where Nicky was waiting. Nicky was bouncing on his heels and seemingly waiting for Andrew, which meant that the good news was for him.
Andrew immediately put his guard up.
“Welcome to the Foxhole Court, may I take your order?”
Nicky scoffed “Come on, Andrew.”
“Order something, or leave me alone.”
“Fine, fine, give me a slice of that Agility cake Dan baked, I've been feeling clumsy lately”
Andrew held his hand out for Nicky to pay.
“You're going to make me pay for it?!”
Andrew's hand didn't waver.
With a grumble, Nicky reached for his wallet. “Okay, so I dropped by the morgue to try and beg Kevin to come back. Hey, hey, hey. Don't look at me like that, I miss him too and I'm desperate.”
Andrew averted his gaze and handed Nicky the slice of cake.
“And I met the new ghost, and he is fine . I might hit that if I see him again.”
Andrew scoffed and turned to go into the kitchen. He had no interest in what his cousin might or might not hit.
“Anyway, I need you to be at the house on Sunday.”
Andrew gave Nicky his best unimpressed look. “Why.”
“Because you love me. Just do it.”
Andrew shrugged.”Okay.”
Then Andrew felt the strangest feeling, it was like someone was pulling a rope tied around his stomach, and he had to follow, or it would cut off his oxygen until either it broke, or he did.
Andrew turned to Nicky. “Are you working?”
“No, why?”
Andrew pushed himself up and launched over the bar. He rose and turned to Nicky.
“You are now.”
Nicky groaned as Andrew raced to the door of the cafe.
“Pulling.” Andrew coughed out.
“Oh. Oh. Yeah, I've got the counter.” Nicky nodded. He hurried Andrew along. “Go Go Go!”
Andrew was in half a mood to round the building, head upstairs, and use the lack of oxygen to force himself asleep, but it was unwise to ignore a Pulling. Especially one this strong.
Andrew walked, as briskly as he could, to the source of the Pulling. The tugging came harder and soon Andrew was running. He was racing down the street, his breath coming out in quick puffs, and not coming back into his lungs in a high enough quantity.
He found his car, fumbled with the latch, jumped in, and drove towards the Pulling, through the crowded streets of the city, his lungs burning without enough air.
He finally ended up back at the cemetery, Kevin was waiting for him outside the building. Andrew was wheezing, sucking in all the air he could.
The Pulling did not lessen.
Andrew pushed past him and rushed into the building. Matt was at the table. Andrew's head snapped to him.
The Pulling did not lessen.
Andrew couldn't breathe anymore.
Andrew raced outside and saw a familiar figure on the hill. The corners of his vision were blurry.
Aaron was there, freaking out over something.
The something was Neil, who was choking.
The Pulling stopped.
Andrew was racing up the hill, he didn't have time to catch his breath, he would help and then he would pass out.
“What happened?” he was mouthing at Aaron, no sound would come out. He tried again and the words came out in a rasp.
“He called me Andrew.” Aaron replied, the only thing calm about him was his voice. “I tried to help but my hand went right through him”.
Andrew cursed in his head. Ghosts couldn't call anything a name it didn't want to be called.
Other ghosts had begun to pop out of their own graves, weaker in daylight, but curious.
“Aaron, tell Neil he is forgiven,”
“You are forgiven” Aaron replied immediately.
Some of the choking lessened.
“You are forgiven,” Andrew rasped as well.
The last thing he saw before he fainted was the blue of Neil's eyes.
The man in the red and gold leather jacket smiled sadly at Andrew.
“How long has he been.. like this?”
Andrew looked back at Kevin. Heart no longer beating, lungs no longer breathing.
Dead.
“Six hours.”
Jeremy Knox hummed thoughtfully. His hand moved, almost unconsciously to rub his thumb against his lip.
Andrew frowned. “Is that alright.”
“It's fine, as long as magic rot hasn't set in yet.”
“Renee set stability wards.”
“Good.” Jeremy said “Good.” He moved to Kevin's corpse, laid cold and calm upon the autopsy table.
“And-” Andrew continued.
“And?”
Andrew sighed and looked away “I'm calling in a favor.”
Jeremy gestured expansively at Kevin's dead body. “This doesn't count as calling in a favor?”
“You want Kevin alive as much as I do,” Jeremy and Kevin had been friends since before Kevin had met Andrew. Jeremy had been the only one of Kevin's friends that Andrew had liked. “and besides, you're going to want to do the favor.”
Jeremy frowned and conceded. “What is it?”
Andrew called Moreau in.
The Frenchman was nursing about fifty bruises, a broken arm, and a pained expression. Riko had tried to kill him. Still, he stood with an unmistakable grace. A refinement that couldn't be anything but natural. He was Jeremy's true love.
Jeremy looked at him, first with pity, then with confusion, then strained recognition, and then finally awe.
Jeremy understood. He smiled in spite of himself and shook Andrew's hand gratefully. “You can keep your goddamn favor, I should be thanking you.”
“He doesn't know and he's kind of banged up right now.” Andrew told him. “Ease him into it, if you're going to tell him now.”
Jeremy looked at Moreau and looked back at Andrew, his face now unreadable. “What makes you think he doesn't know?”
“What makes you think he does?”
“Well.” Jeremy said “Look at him.”
Moreau was looking back at Jeremy with that same awestruck look.
“Later.” Jeremy said. Now we help Kevin.
Reviving Kevin was a long, tedious process. Andrew tried to help as much as he could, but as much as he wanted to be, he wasn't a necromancer.
He was useless.
“Can you help Moreau?” Jeremy asked him. “I know he's on the brink of death, but he is technically still alive, which my magic can't help.”
“I know some basic healing, I'm not as good as Renee.”
“Do what you can, call her if possible. Make sure he's alright.”
Andrew looked at the bronze chain around Moreau's broken ankle. “He's still Bound. He will have to go back to Riko after this.”
“Stop talking about me like I can't hear you.” Moreau said. “I know what my fate is. Leave me to it.”
“Jesus, Moreau, let me patch you up.” Andrew said. His hand ran back through his hair. “Surprising as it may seem, not everyone you know is a sadistic maniac.” Andrew looked apathetically at Jeremy. “Do you have anywhere I could patch up the weeping willow?”
“There's an examination room behind that door,” Jeremy replied, indicating the door in question.
Andrew started walking to the room without checking if Moreau was following.
Andrew checked the cabinets in the exam room. Basic spell supplements, tears of joy, baby's laughter, true remorse. Nothing special. Andrew didn't really need any of it, so he closed the first cabinet and moved to the second. The tell-tale clink of Moreau's chain alerted Andrew to his presence.
“Tell me Moreau, what's your name?”
Moreau's decisive sniff was an indication of his discomfort. “Moreau.”
Andrew rummaged in the cabinets some more. “Hmm. Try again.”
“I'm not lying!” Moreau defended.
“But you're not telling the truth either.” Andrew said, finally turning around. “Just tell me, I need your name for the spell.”
Moreau sighed, resigned. “I can’t, I’ve got a curse.”
“We've all got a curse. Tell me your name.”
“No, listen, I can't. That's the curse.”
Andrew sighed. Of course. Riko really was the worst. Names were key ingredients in almost every healing spell. Restricting Jean's ability to give his made every punishment Riko tried to give him much more permanent. Andrew buried his head in his hands in frustration.
“Okay. Okay.” Jean said, almost nervously. “Blue denim pants.”
Andrew looked up in confusion. “What?”
“Blue. Denim. Pants. Don't make me say it again.”
“What do jeans have to do with anything?” Andrew asked, utterly bewildered.
“That's my name.”
“Your name is Jeans?”
Jeans groaned. “Singular. Rhymes with Dawn. Moreau is my surname.” He shuffled awkwardly and lifted himself up onto the examination bed with visible pain. He looked like he had given away something very valuable.
Andrew nodded and contemplated the importance of this new information. He tested it out. “Jean Moreau.”
Jean's mouth opened like he was about to say something, but closed it, and a tear rolled down his cheek. His hand trailed up to his face and he seemed surprised to find his fingers came away wet. “I'm sorry, it's just… it's been so long since I've heard anyone say my name.” He wiped his face. “I'm going to have to go back, aren't I?”
“Well, how do you break your chain?”
Jean sighed and looked away. “When Riko dies. Or…” Jean trailed off.
“Or what?”
“Nothing. It'll never happen.”
“Okay then.” Andrew shrugged. “You ready?”
“Sure.” Jean conceded. “Why not.”
“Can I touch you?”
Jean nodded. He looked surprised that Andrew had asked.
Andrew pulled Jean close to him and placed a hand behind where his heart was.
“Be Well, Jean Moreau.”
Andrew didn't know if it was working until Jean let out a shuddering gasp. Andrew felt Jean’s breath on his shoulder. The bruises on Jean’s skin faded, his cuts scabbed over, faded, scarred, and then new, soft skin grew to cover those as well. Jean didn’t stop letting out those heartbreaking little relieved sighs. Jeans bones slowly ground their way back in place. Andrew got the impression that he was so used to pain that healing was an entirely new feeling.
Jean laughing through tears when Andrew finished the spell. Andrew meant to step back, but before he could, Jean’s arms wrapped around him and pulled him into an almost spine-shattering embrace, like he needed Andrew to survive. Andrew felt constricted and for a moment his mind flashed back to- no don’t think about that - before he came back to himself and realized that. He was sniffing and sobbing and Andrew couldn’t do anything but hug him back.
Jean let out a sigh that was equal parts catharsis and resignation.
Jean let Andrew go, slowly. Andrew felt a wet patch on the back of his shirt, but he felt wise enough not to mention it.
“I’m sorry.” Jean sniffed.
“Don’t be.” Andrew replied. “You want to take a look at the brand new you?” He gestured to a mirror in the corner of the room.
Jean stood and slowly, cautiously took a look at his face, his arms, his neck, a slow methodical check.
“Do you know any glamours?” Jean asked.
“Why?”
Jean turned to look at Andrew. “Because Riko is not going to like it if I go back to him scarless.”
Jeremy opened the door then and it all came crashing back down on Andrew.
Kevin.
Jeremy opened his mouth and it seemed like he had something to say, but then he saw Moreau in the corner and lost his train of thought.
“You’re looking better.” Was all he said.
“I’m feeling better.” Moreau replied, and refused to look at Jeremy.
“Knox?” Andrew asked.
Jeremy frowned, and Andrew’s heart lurched. “I’m almost done, but he needs something.”
“What?”
“Someone else’s death.” Jeremy looked back at Kevin’s corpse. “I’d give him mine, but I don’t have one.
Andrew nodded. “If I give him mine, what happens to me?”
Jeremy frowned. “You’ll never die.”
“Is that so bad?” Jean asked from the corner.
Jeremy looked at him, unreadably. “Yes.”
Andrew looked behind Jeremy at Kevin. His cold, pale body was deteriorating by the second.
Andrew looked back at Jeremy.
“Do it”