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A loud, screeching cry awoke Ghetto from a nightmare he couldn’t quite remember. Nick stirred beside him in bed, grunting softly and pulling the last of the covers away from Ghetto and over himself. Ghetto sighed and sat up as another cry pierced the otherwise silent night. “‘Kay,” Ghetto mumbled, standing up. “I’m coming.”
Ghetto walked sluggishly down the hall of their Seaport home, past Jordan’s room and into what once had been a guest room, where Shelby once slept, a very long time ago. He stepped over Yoti, who laid awake in the doorway, and into the room.
“Evie,” Ghetto said, leaning over the crib and lifting the crying infant to his chest. “You’re okay, I’m here.” He looked at Kali’s crib and saw she was not crying, but close. Upon seeing Ghetto, her whimpers quieted. Ghetto smiled down at her as he held Evie close. “You guys.”
Evie grabbed Ghetto’s shirt, cries reduced to whines quicker than they usually did. Ghetto sighed. “You just missed me, didn’t you. I’m catching onto your games, kid,” he joked, walking slowly around the room with her. Yoti watched from the doorway, tail raising and thumping against the floor.
“I don’t mind,” Ghetto said, and Evie’s eyelids drooped. “There you go—”
The motion sensing light that hung over the front lawn turned on, and Ghetto didn’t spare it a glance. He’d installed the damn thing to be safe, but all it did was help him realize exactly how many stray or wild animals went by their house each night. He began to take Evie back to her crib.
It was when the light outside began to flicker when Ghetto’s heart began to pound. He set Evie back down and turned to Yoti. “Watch them,” he ordered, and Yoti nodded. Ghetto walked back out of the room and snuck to the kitchen, grabbing a machete from the back of a high cabinet. The light was off.
Reasonably speaking, the light was just faulty. Ghetto, though well aware of this, had four month old twins along with the rest of his family, and flickering lights had a certain association that would likely never leave him. So, sue him for being cautious.
He crept silently up to the front door and peered through a crack in the closed curtains.
A figure stood, rubbing his eyes frantically with gloved hands. His back was to the house, and it was dark, so Ghetto could only make out his height and build; both of which were average. Ghetto tightened his grip on the machete and opened the door. “Hey,” he snapped, holding back on the off chance that it was just the average creep. The man rubbed his eyes some more and turned around to face Ghetto. He opened his eyes, and they were green, with an unnatural yet hauntingly familiar glow to them.
“You must be—”
Ghetto sprinted at the man, the light flickering back on at his movement. The man yelped and stumbled back, and Ghetto tackled him, sending them both to the ground.
Nick opened his eyes, awoken by a sudden rush of fear that was not his own. He gasped and fumbled with his blankets, tripping on one and stumbling out of the room. “Ghetto!” he called, running to the open door.
Ghetto pinned the man’s hands down with one hand and raised the machete with the other. “You made a big mistake coming here,” Ghetto hissed, just as Nick made it to the doorway.
“Honey!” Nick shouted, and Ghetto sighed.
“Get inside, hun,” he said, starting to wonder why the man didn’t teleport out of his grip, as they’d seen Red do countless times before. “He was standing on our lawn, he turned the light off.”
“He’s scared, Ghetto, I don’t think he’s bad,” Nick said, though he came no closer to the mysterious man. “Just hold on, don’t kill the guy yet.”
“Yet?” the man whispered, eyes squinting against the light. Ghetto shot him a glare.
“You see what I’m seeing, right?” Ghetto asked Nick, who nodded.
“I do,” Nick breathed. “Just hold on. He doesn’t have harmful intentions, I can’t feel any.”
“Empath,” the man guessed.
Ghetto grunted. “What are you doing here then,” he asked, only tightening his grip on the man’s wrists.
“Apologizing.” Ghetto tilted his head. The man sighed and flexed his fingers. “You’re Ghetto, the shapeshifter, right? My name’s Tommy, you’ve probably figured out I’m the same species as... you know... Red. I was told to come here by the head of our Council, to formally apologize on behalf of the rest of us.”
“What?” Ghetto shook his head. “Apologize—”
“For Red’s actions. We’re sorry we couldn’t stop him before. That’s one reason why I’m here, anyway,” Tommy said, and Ghetto let go of him, standing up. “Thanks. Special gloves, by the way.” Tommy held up his hands. “They’re warded, so paralysis doesn’t work, swear on my life.”
A hand rested on Nick’s back, and he jumped, but it was just Jordan, who had recently met Nick in height, with a growth spurt surely incoming. “What’s going on?” Jordan asked. Nick shrugged and nodded towards Tommy. Jordan took a step back, hooking onto Nick’s arm.
“I’m also here to ask,” Tommy said. “How the fuck did you do that?”
“Do what?” Ghetto tapped his thumb anxiously against the handle of the machete.
“Kill Red!” Tommy exclaimed, and Ghetto cursed, putting a finger to his lips. Tommy gasped and nodded, quieting down.
Nick took a deep breath. “Would you like to come inside?” he asked, stepping aside. Ghetto and Jordan both looked at him with wide eyes. Nick huffed at them. “Guys— we’re standing out here in the cold, come on.”
“I don’t want to harm you,” Tommy assured. Ghetto pinched the bridge of his nose.
——
Tommy sipped awkwardly at his glass of water, having taken a seat on the couch. Ghetto and Nick shared the recliner. Jordan, who was sent to the twins’ room with Yoti, sat by the door and listened.
“Thanks for dimming the lights,” Tommy said, clearing his throat. “Most of us are sensitive to light in some way, Red was just one of the lucky ones who wasn’t.”
“Is that why you didn’t come in the daytime, like a normal fuckin’ person?” Ghetto spat, arms crossed over his chest. Nick hummed at him and rubbed his arm. “Nick— I’m pissed at his asshole.”
“I’m sorry, again,” Tommy said, setting his water aside. “I live in a place with a lot of nocturnals, it’s— I’m sorry. But, I’m here, and not dead so—”
“Get to it.”
“Okay.” Tommy nodded. “God, I can’t believe I’m here with you. Listen, we all wanted to say that we’re extremely thankful for what you did three years back. It took us forever to find your name, we’d just heard that a shapeshifter offed Red somehow and we were kinda like, holy shit? Because we’d been trying for years, starting with Red’s own parents, I mean, you must know the story.”
Nick shivered, and Ghetto wrapped an arm around him. Tommy looked between them, then at the rings on their fingers. “Congratulations. On the— marriage, I assume. And the kids.” Ghetto narrowed his eyes, and Tommy flinched. “There are toys, all around, I just—”
“It’s okay,” Nick said, flashing a smile. “Thanks.”
Ghetto cleared his throat. “Long story short, we had a huge group go with us, there was this other bad dude, a doctor, and he was working with Red—”
“Ross,” Tommy interrupted, nodding. “I know people who’ve lost family to him, too.”
Ghetto’s gaze softened, only slightly. “We killed two birds with one stone, essentially, um...” He looked at Nick, checking if he was okay. Nick nodded back. “He gave us all nightmares, but with Nick’s help as an empath, we were able to break the nightmares, and I killed him with a magic sword after we tired him out considerably.”
Tommy looked as if he were in the presence of celebrities, his shining green eyes wide with wonder. “You broke a Red nightmare— magic sword— god, it’s— I can’t believe you did it. Forgive me. I assume by the uh, machete, that you were able to, y’know.” He dragged a finger across his throat and tilted his head to the side. “You guessed right, beheading is actually how you kill us, if you ever need to do it again. But I doubt it.” Tommy’s tone dropped, and Nick felt a deep resentment, ingrained since early childhood, of those who used their powers for evil. “We handle our bad apples well, at least for the most part,” Tommy said, and Nick shivered in Ghetto’s embrace.
Ghetto only scoffed. “For the most part is damn right. You couldn’t handle Red earlier, huh? No, he lived all that damn time and it was up to us to take him out,” he said. Nick placed a calming hand on his back. Tommy nodded.
“Red was a genetic nightmare. Sorry for not exactly understanding the science of it all, but a certain mix of recessive genes that came from the parents of both James and Rosaline were passed to Red and... boom, he’s the most powerful member of our species ever recorded, while his poor parents were relatively weak. We um— we’ve done our research, found old journals, and such, if any of you are ever interested, but, probably not, huh. Anyway yeah, everyone we’ve tried to send out over the years has... not come back,” he explained. He was met with silence as Nick and Ghetto processed the information.
“Alright, well, I have to answer any questions you have, about us, about Red, anything. Consider it a kind of repayment, I guess, for the trouble of it all being so unknown,” Tommy said.
“What are you?” Jordan asked, stepping hesitantly out of the hallway. Ghetto inhaled and looked back at him, opening his mouth to order the boy back to Yoti. “Dad I wanna know stuff, okay?”
Tommy hummed and nodded. “Old monster hunters called us boogeymen, uh, some considered us to be demons, uh, we don’t really have a true name for ourselves, we’re just... us? I know that’s not much of an answer. But I can tell you all about us,” he offered, and Ghetto narrowed his eyes.
“Are you immortal,” he mumbled, and Tommy perked up.
“Oh, that’s an interesting one, see, we age like humans until around eighteen, though it varies. Then the aging process slows considerably, I uh, I’m actually fifty nine years old, but I look like I’m in my mid twenties in the human sense. We still age, though, and as we grow weaker, reaching the elderly stage, we age faster again, and eventually die. We’re,” Tommy winced, “predators, by nature, and it makes sense to be strong for as long as possible and vulnerable for as little as possible.”
“Makes sense,” Jordan mumbled, rubbing his arms. “Why couldn’t we find anything on you?”
Nick sensed Ghetto’s apprehension, and kissed his shoulder. “S’okay,” Nick whispered, rubbing Ghetto’s back.
“We’ve kept secret, especially after the whole Red thing, uh, it’s bad publicity and we had already been hunted terribly in the centuries before, I mean, you know cryptid history, it’s...” Tommy considered Jordan’s age and hesitated. “Not fun. Anything else?”
The room was quiet, and Nick bounced his knee, anxious to ask something but not sure if he should. Then, Evie cried out for them from her room, and Nick squeezed Ghetto’s arm. “Ghetto I want to talk to Tommy for a minute,” he blurted out, and Ghetto blinked.
“You— alone?” Ghetto shook his head, and Nick pulled Ghetto up and into the hallway. Jordan, uneasy, went back to the twins’ room.
“Take care of the kids for a second, I want to talk to him about something,” Nick pressed.
“Nick, he’s dangerous, I’m not gonna leave you alone with him,” Ghetto said, and they both glanced back at Tommy as he gazed around at the house and fumbled with his thumbs.
“I can alert Yoti, okay? I won’t be helpless, you’re all just in the other room and by the way, all I see within him is hate for Red. Please, I just need to ask him something,” Nick begged, grabbing Ghetto’s hands and kissing the ring on his finger. “I’ll be okay.”
Ghetto grunted, but nodded, kissing Nick’s ring in return. “Thank you, I love you,” Nick said, and Ghetto couldn’t help but smile.
“Love you too.” He gave Nick a quick kiss before walking into the twins’ room. Nick took a deep breath, and turned around.
“Tommy, uh, you said you’ve done research?” he asked, sitting back down at the recliner. Tommy nodded.
“Red’s old house was actually mostly intact, there were some things that weren’t lost, journals, pictures, hell, shopping lists even. That and the infamous bedtime story itself gave us a pretty clear picture of what happened,” Tommy explained, his voice softer than it had been when the rest of them were in the room.
“And what about Hazel?” Nick asked. Tommy tilted his head in the slightest, brows furrowing. Nick sat up straighter; Tommy didn’t know.
“Red had a, a... not a girlfriend, it’s not what it was, really,” Nick said, rubbing his thumb over his palm. “Hazel. Red told me— Red told me her death was the last straw, the reason James and Rosaline tried to kill him. He killed her, and I guess he never let that part get out.”
Tommy was stunned. “Not exactly the kind of creepy he wanted as a reputation,” he said, and he shuddered. “Fucking hell, we didn’t know. Thanks for—” Tommy reached a hand out, but hesitated, balling it into a fist and returning it to his lap. “Sorry. Thanks, I’ll relay the information back, they’ll go nuts.”
Nick nodded, and sighed. Tommy looked at him, sympathetic. Nick could feel rage and disgust building at the revelation. “I’m sorry he hurt you,” Tommy said, voice wavering. “He hurt so many people. It really sucks, y’know? I don’t— mean to vent.”
“I have that effect on people,” Nick breathed, shrugging it off. “He’s gone now.”
“He is.” Tommy sighed and stood. “Thanks for the hospitality, and um, for stopping your husband from chopping my head off.” He let out an awkward laugh. Nick cracked a smile.
“Yeah, no problem.” Nick stood as well, patting his thighs. “Next time maybe uh, come in the daytime? If you can.”
“Course, if I ever see you again I’ll keep that in— in mind.” Tommy did a quick bow and clasped his hands in front of him. “It was nice to meet you, Nick,” he said. Nick offered him a nod.
“Same to you.”
“You alright, Nick?” Ghetto walked back out of the room and wrapped an arm around Nick’s waist. Nick nodded at him. Tommy stood on the tips of his toes for a moment.
“It’s an honor to meet you both. I’m a big fan of your— your work,” Tommy stammered, shooting them both a thumbs up. “If there’s nothing else, I should head back. Sorry for the intrusion.”
Nick smiled, and Ghetto glared. “Have a good night, Tommy,” Nick said, and Tommy smiled back at him.
“You too.” And then Tommy was gone.
——
“He was nice,” Nick admitted, setting a sleeping Kali down in her crib. Ghetto scoffed as he checked if Evie was asleep as well.
“He showed up at our house in the middle of the night.”
“Well— he was still nice.” Nick pouted, walking towards the door. Ghetto followed, and they walked back to their room. Nick collapsed on the bed, and Ghetto untangled the various blankets that had gathered on the floor.
“It just makes me mad that they had whole ass task forces or whatever, and they still couldn’t get Red. He fucked with my family, alright?” Ghetto laid down next to Nick and stared up at the ceiling fan with him. “Did you get some closure at least?”
“A little,” Nick whispered. “I told him about Hazel.”
“Ah. You alright?” Ghetto turned to face Nick, rubbing his thumb soothingly against Nick’s cheek.
“I’m with you, I’m alright,” Nick said, and then he giggled, covering his mouth. Ghetto raised an eyebrow at him.
“You tackled the poor man head on and sent him to the ground,” Nick said, laughing now. Ghetto propped himself up, feigning offense.
“What are you laughing at, I was protecting you guys, I have a family!” Ghetto said, but it only made Nick laugh harder. Ghetto took a pillow and whacked Nick with it.
“The— the look on his face when I came out, I—” Nick took the pillow and covered his face with it, and Ghetto grinned at the sound of Nick’s muffled voice as he said, “I feel so bad!”
“You should be grateful, oh my god,” Ghetto said, flopping back down on the bed. “I’m tired as shit.”
Nick held the pillow close to his chest. “Me too. Let’s get what little sleep we can salvage. And hey, I am grateful, by the way. Thank you.”
“No problem.” Ghetto shifted his arm as Nick snuggled up beside him. “Love you.”
“Love you too,” Nick hummed. With a pause, he added, “Sweet dreams.”
“Sweet dreams, babe.” Ghetto reached over, and turned off the light.