Work Text:
Things after the “death” of the Enemy were… weird. Really weird.
That wasn’t saying that Aaron didn’t like it, quite the opposite. He was beyond relieved to no longer feel the pressure of being expected to kill Constantine and save the mage world, and knowing that Call wasn’t evil and really was his friend was a pretty good feeling too. It was just… absolutely everything else.
The stares he got hadn’t stopped now that he was no longer expected to play saviour. They’d diminished, but Aaron knew that they were still there. Even worse, they tended to also be directed towards Call as much as Aaron these days.
Logically, Aaron knew that it was because Call was not only the newest Makar, but also the son of the man who’d “killed” the Enemy. Despite that fact, he still felt his heart racing with fear if their gaze was even a little suspicious. They know, the little voice in his head would whisper maliciously. They know, and they’re going to tell the Masters. They’re going to put Call away for good.
There was no way for anyone but their friends and Constantine’s followers to know about Call’s secret identity, a fact which Aaron took little comfort in. From the moment he’d accepted his friend’s secret, he’d made it his mission to keep Call safe. Call was his counterweight; he was pretty sure he would have known if Call was secretly evil instead of just secretly Constantine.
But other people wouldn’t see it that way. They would only see “has The Enemy of Death’s soul” and jump from there. What they would do to Call… even the idea made Aaron feel sick. They would imprison him, if they didn’t outright kill him. They would see him as a monster.
So Aaron needed to keep Call safe and his link to the Enemy hidden. For both their sakes.
-
By the time winter break that year came around, Aaron was about to loose his mind. Two months of constant stares and whispered words would be enough to drive anyone past their limits, let alone anyone with as much to hide as him.
“I don’t know how you do it,” he told Call, sprawled out next to him on their common room couch.
“By not being a paranoid bastard and by being distracted your wild and frantic eyes,” he said loftily, almost in a poor impression of Mr. Rajavi. Even though Aaron knew full well what Call had meant, his traitorous stomach did a little flip at the last part. Call was distracted by him.
No, he told himself firmly, not unlike how he scolded Havoc for stealing from their plates. We are not doing this today. Or ever.
“It’s just… so much,” Aaron said instead, spreading his arms wide. “We’re getting twice the weird looks I got when I was first Makar, and this time I have so much more to hide than not wanting to die for the Magisterium.”
Call snorted and patted his head. “We need to get you some lying practice. Aren’t you supposed to be the son of a criminal?”
“Me only lying when truly necessary does not make me the bad one in this situation,” he replied, flicking his friend’s arm for good measure.
“Yeah, it makes you the boring one,” he said smugly, pinching Aaron right back. “Where’s the fun in following the rules? Can you really say you’ve lived if you haven’t stolen a naked mole rat and ruined a May Day parade?”
Aaron scrunched up his face, just for Call’s reaction. “And you’re saying you have stolen a naked whatever? Because I’m pretty sure that just makes you a criminal.”
“Obviously. I am the king of criminals. I am made of Evil Overlord material.” Call rolled over until his head was on Aaron’s chest. Ostensibly, this was a friendly cuddle, but really, it was a low-effort way to keep him pinned. It worked, but more because it made Aaron too flustered to want to move than because Call was heavy enough to keep him there.
He laughed. “Evil Overlord material? Even the name sounds geeky. Nah, you’re just a regular emo like the rest of us commoners.”
Call put a hand over his heart, mock-offended. “Excuse you? A common emo? Me? No, I’m a grunge theatre kid.”
“Ah, my bad,” he said, rolling his eyes. “You’re an emo that’s forgotten how to take a shower.”
He rolled back off Aaron to shove him, laughing. “You’re the worst.”
“Absolutely,” Aaron agreed. “Between the two of us, I’m the Evil Overlord material. You’re my minion at best.”
“As long as I get to wear a terrible leather costume, I’m happy,” he said. “But only if the leather is super tacky and obviously plastic.”
“Gross.” Aaron wrinkled his nose at the thought. Call could probably pull off a leather jacket if that was what he wanted, but what he was describing sounded like it was straight out of a bad 80’s action movie. “Anyways, moving on! What are you planning to do for Christmas this year?”
Last year, they hadn’t been allowed to leave the school for the holidays. Instead, they just got some time off from learning. Aaron liked that much better; it reduced the problems that came with not having a home to go back to. He’d feel awkward at someone else’s house, and he’d feel awkward being the only one in his apprentice group to stay. No one going home at all was a much neater solution.
“Eh,” Call said casually. “I don’t think I’m going to decide until the last possible minute. I mean, I like my dad and being at home, but it’s also really lonely. Here, at least I might have some other people around. You’re staying too, right?”
“It’s not like I’ve got anywhere else to go,” he said. “Christmas is pretty family oriented, so I don’t think that Tamara or anyone’s going to want to take me in.”
“Dude, if you want, you can totally come back with me!” Call straightened up as he spoke, eyes gleaming. “My dad won’t mind and I won’t get bored out of my mind of watching television and helping him with the cars.”
Aaron absolutely wanted that. As much as he had liked staying with the Rajavis, somewhere like Call’s house sounded much more like his speed. And besides, he liked Call! Call was sarcastic and funny and nice and gave Aaron a warm feeling in his chest and- okay, he really liked Call and maybe not entirely in a friendly way. That was… mostly normal, right? People got crushes on their friends all the time. Then, they got over them. All Aaron needed to do was get over Call. Simple, right?
(No. Not simple. So, breathtakingly, miserably, painfully not simple. Aaron sometimes wanted to pull his hair out from the sheer strength of his feelings. He could feel them thrumming in his chest, just like the counterweight bond they shared.)
“Are you sure?” he asked, instead of saying any of that. “I don’t really want to intrude.”
Call laughed. “Yeah, I’m sure. It’ll be fun!”
“And you’re sure that your dad’s fine with it?”
“He actually already asked me if you wanted to come over. I can just tell him that you said yes, and we’re golden.” He looked at Aaron eagerly, and he started to think that maybe this would be… fun. Call was offering, so he wouldn’t be intruding.
“If you’re sure, then I’d love to come home with you,” Aaron said, trying not to let his shyness show. Judging by his friend’s reaction, he thought he succeeded.
“Great!” Call bounced a little as he spoke, beaming widely. “Oh, I’m so dragging you out to the parade with the creepy fake Santa that they do every year…”
Aaron let Call’s enthusiasm and words flow over him and felt for the first time that winter a spark of hope for a good Christmas.
-
The Hunts’ house was overwhelmingly normal and Aaron loved it.
There was nothing grandiose about their entryway or their dining room-slash-kitchen. The art and pictures on the walls were the regular family sort, with Call’s old drawings- surprisingly good, Aaron hadn’t known he’d been able to draw like that- and pictures of Call and Alastair.
It made him feel perfectly at ease. This was his element, not Tamara’s fancy mansion or any of the other palatial structures he’d visited with them. Just regular, non-thousand dollar plates and boring beige-brown walls and Call and Havoc making a mess everywhere.
At first, Aaron had been a little nervous. For as nice as Alastair had been after they got over the whole “okay, you’re not actually trying to kill any of us and you really were throwing Semiramis to Call and not at him” part of things, he still didn’t know Call’s dad all that well. In reality, Call hadn’t been exaggerating about how much time Alastair spent with his car and various other antiques. While he did emerge for meals and the occasional evening, for the most part, he was in the garage for most of the day.
Being away from the Magisterium also had its perks. Number one, no more being gawked at. Here, he was just another kid back for winter break. Two, food that wasn’t some sort of strange plant growth. Even as much as he had grown to love the Magisterium’s rather eclectic menu, Aaron still had to acknowledge that there was nothing quite like pizza. Three- well, it was kind of selfish of him, but Aaron was glad to have Call to himself for a little while.
It wasn’t that Aaron didn’t like their other friends and classmates, but sometimes he just wanted to not feel eyes on his back for a minute. To not worry about anyone seeing through them. Yeah, people were nice, and he’d be lying he if said he didn’t like the attention, but they were also… complicated. Harsh. Idolizing. Sometimes, the wandering eyes and whispers just got to be too much.
Call was never like that, though. He wasn’t sure what about him made him get all the stuff Aaron flung at him in fits of misery, but Call just understood. Knew what to do and say and how to make Aaron feel perfectly understood. It didn’t seem to transfer over to other people- when it came to Celia, Call knew about as much as tomato did about interacting with her. Maybe it was the whole counterweights thing, or maybe it was because Call and Aaron came from the same kind of place, but they got each other in a way no one else seemed to.
And, of course, Aaron had a killer crush on him, which didn’t help.
Yes, he finally admitted it. It was sort of hard to avoid facts like that when you were living with that person beside you every day. It was even harder when you were in constant contact like they were. Call was always grabbing Aaron’s arm, or butting his head against his shoulder, or swinging an arm around him, or, god forbid, hugging him. It was a nightmare, if nightmares came with an intense case of stomach butterflies instead of terror.
But, regardless. Being at the Hunt’s house was fantastic, even if having a crush on Call was ten types of bad.
“Hey, Aaron, are you even listening?” Call asked playfully, waving one hand in front of Aaron’s face. He blinked, eyes refocusing for the first time in at least a minute.
“No,” he said truthfully. “I think I zoned out there. Sorry!”
Call waved the apology away. “Eh, it’s not that big of a deal. I was just asking if you wanted hot chocolate.”
“Oh, sure!” Aaron said, smiling a little. “You know, if it’s not too much trouble.”
His friend snorted, grinning as he walked barefoot into the kitchen. “I offered, Aaron. It’s no trouble.”
Aaron watched casually as Call set out two mugs, a small tub of hot chocolate mix, milk, and a bag of marshmallows on the counter. In typical Call fashion, he didn’t bother to measure anything before he tossed them into the mugs. He also added his marshmallows before he put his mug into the microwave, which he claimed made them taste better and which Alastair claimed made a mess. Aaron thought privately that they were both right.
“So,” Call said when he collapsed onto the couch next to Aaron. “What do we feel like doing today? I don’t think we can go out too far today, because my dad is going ‘grocery shopping’, which means that he’s actually going Christmas shopping.”
Immediately, Aaron felt guilty. He couldn’t give Call or Alastair much, unless he wanted to turn to pickpocketing, and even that wouldn’t scrape up much. He’d made Call a little figurine of Havoc using metal magic and a hunk of iron that Master Rufus had helped him find before he left, Tamara a drawing of her defeating a dragon, Jasper (somewhat begrudgingly) a practice sketch he’d done of the Butterfly Pool, and Mr. Hunt a jacket he’d found in a thrift store nearby. None of it was great, but it was still something, wasn’t it?
“I- I don’t know,” he stammered. Aaron thought he might be blushing a little. “I don’t really have an opinion.”
Call took a sip of his hot chocolate. “You sure? Didn’t you say that you wanted to go see that new Star Wars movie yesterday?”
He had. “I mean, it doesn’t matter that much. If there’s anything else you want to do…”
“Dude, I have zero creativity when it comes to picking activities. If y’all let me choose what to do with my life, I’d never get off of the couch,” Call said, gesturing at the television. “I’d make Havoc do everything else for me.”
“No you wouldn’t. No one but you knows how to assemble such horrifying food combinations,” Aaron teased, poking Call’s stomach. “Not even Havoc could manage that stuff, and he can be pretty gross sometimes.”
“Hey, you take that back!” Call laughed, putting down his mug and shoving Aaron. “Ranch dressing on pasta is delicious.”
“I’m not even religious, and I know that’s gotta be blasphemy,” he said, trying to squirm out of Call’s reach.
Call let him go, leaning back against the arm of the couch and picking his mug up again. “So. Star Wars?”
“Star Wars,” Aaron agreed, following suit and taking a long drag from his mug. The warm, sugary drink was just barely on the pleasant side of sweet. “This afternoon?”
“Sounds good,” Call said, and that was that.
-
Time flew, when Aaron was with Call. Before he realized it, it was Christmas Eve and they were all sitting in the living room, watching stupid Hallmark movies (that Call critiqued viciously) and debating which Christmas movie was the best.
“Okay, but The Muppets Christmas Carol is a true classic,” Call was saying, gesticulating far too much for someone who has supposed to go to bed within the next half hour. “You’re got Charles whoever and his story, you’ve got Gonzo the rat and Tiny Tim, and you’ve got puppets! Singing puppets!”
Aaron leaned forwards, enjoying this all too much. “And Home Alone has the robbers, Kevin, and booby traps. Clearly, the superior comedy, while still adhering to the tenements of a feel-good Christmas movie.”
“Alright, mister I’m-an-intellectual,” Call shot back, but his wide grin took all the sting out of it. “But Muppets isn’t meant to be a true comedy. It’s a warning not to be an asshole! It’s more of a horror movie than it is funny, but it still manages to make people laugh.”
“The horror aspect clashes too much with the rest of the movie to really make it work.” He crossed his arms to punctate his statement. “The only really funny parts are the Ghost of Christmas Present and Kermit, and they’re not even the main parts of the movie!”
“Still funny,” Call said stubbornly. In the corner of his eye, Aaron could see Alastair rolling his eyes, a fond smile on his lips.
A sudden idea came to him. “Mr. Hunt, which do you think is better? Muppets Christmas Carol or Home Alone?”
He raised his hands defensively, smile not fading. “The Grinch.”
Call put one hand on his hip. “Nope, you’re settling this, once and for all. Home Alone or Muppets?”
“I think…” Alastair said slowly, tapping his chin. “I think that it’s time for bed.”
“Aw, come on, Dad!” he said, slumping dramatically. “It’s only nine thirty!”
“Exactly,” Alastair said, standing and gathering their dishes. “Bedtime. You know, the earlier you go to sleep, the sooner Santa Claus comes.”
Aaron and Call both snorted; Santa was sort of a joke in the Hunt household, as Alastair had refused to teach Call about him back in his “all magic is completely evil” phase. Aaron had simply never believed in him. The joys of growing up in foster care and all that.
“Alright,” he said dutifully, regardless of Santa’s nonexistence. “Come on, Call.”
Call muttered something along the lines of “why do you always have to be the good one” but he stood, and they walked side by side to Call’s room. Aaron slept there, about three feet from Call, on a little cot that Alastair had dredged up from somewhere. Havoc usually slept with Call, and on their way to the room, the familiar clickety-clack of wolf nails on wood flooring joined them.
They all piled into bed. Havoc was the last to settle down, lying with his head up against Call’s ribs.
“You’re not actually going to go to bed right now, are you?” Call broke the silence only a moment or so after it was settled.
Aaron opened his eyes to squint at Call, who was facing him. “Yeah? Why wouldn’t I?”
“Oh my god,” he groaned. “Aaron, man, I love you and all that, but sometimes you are such a goody-two shoes.”
He had to take a moment to let his heart settle after hearing Call say “I love you”. It was a joke, Aaron knew that, but… But nothing. It was a joke, end of story.
“I just don’t see why I need to go against the grain on this one,” he said, instead of “please say ‘I love you’ like you mean it”. “It’s just bed time.”
“It’s not just bed time,” Call said, shifting a little bit. “It’s the principle of the thing. Usually, Dad lets us go to bed whenever we want.”
That was true, but not a good enough reason for Aaron. There needed to be a good cause for him to break rules, like hot-wiring the car during their escapade earlier that year. “It’s not that big of a deal to me, I guess.”
“What is a big enough deal for you then? Just out of curiosity,” Call asked, and he sounded genuine. “I mean, you say stuff like that, but you never say what actually does matter.”
Aaron stayed silent for a moment. It wasn’t so much that he would mind Call knowing. Truthfully, it was more that transmitting ideas from brain to mouth usually ended poorly, especially with big, nebulous ideas like this one.
“You,” he said finally. “And Tamara, of course. Maybe even Jasper. Not for small, petty stuff, but it’s like when we went after your dad. I didn’t have to think twice about that, you know. The same goes for- for if you ever got found out. If that ever happens, it wouldn’t even take me a second to decide to grab you and run.”
There was another moment of silence. Aaron held his breath the whole time.
Finally, Call spoke. He said it softly, tentatively. “Where?”
“What?” he asked, confused.
“Where would we go? If we had to run?”
Aaron shrugged, then remembered that Call probably couldn’t see him well in the darkness. “I don’t know. Maybe California.”
A small laugh. “California?”
“Yeah,” he smiled, warming up to the idea. “California. Southern California, because it’s sunnier there. We’ll travel around, so that the mages can’t find us. We can bring Havoc and use him to hunt for animals and stuff until we’re old enough to get jobs.”
“Just you, me, and the state of California, huh? Doesn’t sound like a bad life,” Call said, and even through the blackness of the room, Aaron could see his smile. “Certainly better than wizard prison.”
“Yeah,” he smiled back, then yawned. “Just us.”
There was the soft sound of Havoc exhaling through his nose, then swallowing heavily. Call sighed. Aaron closed his eyes again.
“Good night,” Call said softly. “See you in the morning.”
“See you in the morning,” he echoed back.