Chapter Text
In hindsight, something like this was obviously within the realm of possibility. After all, Nile thought, she had once thought immortality was impossible, until the day she failed to die. Her understanding of the world had been turned upside down once, nothing prevented it from happening again.
In hindsight, Nile wished her family had just told her that they weren’t the only immortals before meeting one.
*
After Booker’s exile, the Old Guard decided to lay-low for a bit. For a group whose dynamic was mostly constant over the centuries, the sudden absence of Booker paired with the arrival of Nile left them needing time to adjust. The Merrick incident had also taken its toll on the group, especially for Nicky and Joe. It was a wake-up call to the immortals that the modern world no longer had as many shadows for them to hide in, and there were those who were eager to exploit their abilities.
Copley was in the process of trying to erase their historical footprint, which to Andy’s, Joe’s and Nicky’s surprise, was more complicated than just disposing of some books, news articles, and pictures. (“Come on, guys,” Nile had said, “Surely you must have some awareness of how hard it is to scrub stuff off the internet.” The truth is, they hadn’t. Previously Booker had handled all the technology stuff.)
They stayed in a Maltese safe-house for a few months to recuperate. The house was located on the outer part of the capital Valletta, away from the intensity of tourists (as much as that is possible on a small island like Malta), on a hill overlooking the sea. Before Nile’s time in the marines, she didn’t get to travel much, but now she could visit the entire world. She went on many day trips around the island, either with the others or by herself, visiting the museums, landmarks, and other tourist attractions.
(When they went to the war museum together, the others had to talk Andy out of taking back her axe she lost during the late nineteenth century.
“But it was one of my favourite axes,” Andy had said, “I’ve been looking for it for a century.”
“I don’t think they’re going to believe that, boss.” Joe replied.)
In between sightseeing and training, Nile spent her time learning what it was like to live with the Old Guard. She learnt that Joe didn’t just sketch but could also paint incredibly well, even with the fickle medium of watercolour. She learnt that Nicky was passionate about football (not soccer, he insisted), but rarely got the chance to play it. She learnt that even with roughly six millennia of experience and knowing “all languages” (Nile didn’t believe her), Andy couldn’t sing. She learnt about the group dynamic about the Old Guard: their bets, Nicky and Joe’s constant causal flirting, the numerous inside joke that would take Nile another lifetime to learn.
Nile taught the others things as well, ranging from modern pop-culture references to understanding the latest scientific innovations. They spent many nights watching cult-classic films that somehow the older immortals missed, which often devolved into the others arguing about the historical or action inaccuracies. The domesticity softened Nile’s grief at the loss of her old life, but it did not erase it; She had simultaneously lost and gained a family.
An outsider might find it strange how quickly Nile accepted the rest of the Old Guard as family and vice versa. But the truth is that it just felt right. Perhaps the force that gave them the dreams and brought them together in the first place did not disappear once they had meet, but instead had grown stronger. Perhaps destiny had brought them together for a reason.
Andy’s new return to mortality was also a shock to the system, as it now seemed like everything could be potentially fatal. (That’s the thing about being immortal with super-healing abilities, you forget what actually is a threat and what is simply a risk of life). Nile, mortality still firmly an important factor in her decision making, acts as a sort of common-sense filter to her new family. Her advice ranges from reassuring everyone that Andy isn’t going to die at the slightest hint of pain (“Headaches happen to everyone, take some pain killers and you’ll be fine.”) to outright bizarre (“If you can’t reach something, get a footstool. Don’t try and parkour to get it.”).
On the flip-side, Nile was still having difficulty adapting to immortality, even though the others reassured her she was adjusting well. Trying to catch up on centuries of fighting styles, languages, and practical knowledge was less like getting thrown into the metaphorical ‘deep end of the pool’ and more like getting thrown into the metaphorical ocean. And one time the literal ocean. (After Quynh, they realised that there needed to be a plan in case they were ever lost at sea – lest they too get stuck in a water prison).
The hardest part was accepting that she was immortal. That one day everyone Nile knew from her mortal life would be gone. That she has to let her mother and brother think that she was dead, killed in action without a body to mourn. That every time her brain thinks she should be dead, that no matter how hurt she got, her body gets up and continues living. Every day she understands a little better the importance of having each other to rely on, how lonely it would be to experience immortality alone, and every day she tries to convince the others to end Booker’s exile. It hasn’t work yet, but every family has its disagreements.
It had occurred to Nile at some point, how odd it was that every member of the Old Guard had been a soldier, dying due to war in some way. So does destiny only like warriors or something, she had asked waiting for dinner one night, because, like, we are the only immortals and we all died in wars. There had been a brief awkward pause, where Nicky and Andy looked at each other, unsure of how to answer. Then Joe walked in with pizza, derailing the conversation into whether pineapple on pizza is acceptable or not. (The debate had to remain unresolved, having had to be left at “agree to disagree” before physical fights got involved).
Eventually the restlessness of staying in one spot for so long became unbearable and the Old Guard returned to doing missions. Copley continued to make good on his promise on finding them jobs and hiding their tracks. (It’s not as if he had much of a choice anyway). There were long arguments about letting Andy come on missions, but a compromise was reached eventually.
The first couple of missions Nile struggled with; it was one thing to know what to do in theory, but something else entirely to execute it in reality. The emotional toll of some incidents weighted on Nile, but she felt obligated to use her power for good. Some nights she lied in bed thinking Why me? Why must this burden be mine? She hadn’t lost her faith, but she did have a lot of doubt and spiritual exploration to do.
It got easier to deal with the longer it went on, but Nile hoped that in some way, she would never forget the pain of making difficult decision, that she would never become fully desensitised to the consequence of her actions.
*
It was meant to be a relatively simple, low-risk job. Well, as lower a risk as their jobs ever were. They were in Mozambique, a costal country in south-east Africa. They were hired to protect a group of medics moving their patients and equipment south to the capital of Maputo, where there were better facilities to treat tuberculosis and HIV. They were medical, and the country was not at war (although that is not to say there was no conflict, no anxiety about travelling across to ease with security) so they should be able to get through, but emphasis on the should, because they all knew the rules of medical neutrality were not always respected.
It wasn’t their usual sort of work as mercenaries, playing over-powered bodyguards, but Copley had a contact that specifically reached out to him. Joe was skeptical at the premise, mostly because he was skeptical of any job Copley gave them since Morocco, but Nicky convinced him to do it. Andy questioned whether Copley was purposely giving simple jobs in order to keep the now mortal safe, but he denied that claim. Nile was just happy to have a simple, straight-forward job, nothing too unexpected.
Of course, life is always more complicated than that.
*
“I have a bad feeling about this.” Nile said as they approached the rendezvous point. “But, like, not a normal, survival instinct bad feeling. A we-shouldn’t-be-here bad feeling.” She couldn’t explain it properly, but it was as if she was being repelled from this place.
“Do you think it’s a trap?” Nicky replied. That something Nile appreciated, that even though she had only lived a minuscule fraction of their lifetimes, they still trusted her gut instincts.
“No, it’s a different kind of bad feeling. I don’t know how to explain it.”
“If it helps, I don’t have a great feeling about this either.” Joe added, “But that might just be because Andy is now mortal and could die at any moment.”
“I feel fine about this mission.” Andy counted, “I don’t need to be immortal to survive in combat.” There had been many of these arguments, and inevitably there would be many more. But it was hard not to be protective when someone you love dearly seems to be on the doorstep of death.
“As long as you don’t do anything fatally stupid, you mean.”
“Me? Never.” Andy said, which Nile was fairly certain was sarcastic, given that only a few months ago Andy’s plan of surviving a plane crash was to jump.
“So Barcelona ’54 was a perfectly smart idea then?” Nicky smiled.
“Or Havana ’67?” Joe added.
“I will not take this slander!” Andy laughed. Nile longed to be a part of these inside jokes, but she also knew that it would take time.
They approached the small medical centre, where a group of around thirty or so people were preparing to leave. The medics were a mix from Doctors without Borders and local volunteers, while the patients were all civilians. It was a fairly rural area, so many of the patients must have come from the neighbouring villages.
Quickly a medic noticed them, a young man with pale skin and light brown hair wearing a vest that read Medecins san Frontieres. He approached the Old Guard with a smile as if he knew them, and somehow that intensified Nile’s bad feeling. She glanced at her family, who looked startled by his existence at the same place as them.
“Well, well, well! I didn’t quite expect to see you all again so soon! But I guess I should have suspected a surprise like this when Con called earlier to tell me I was about to lose a bet.” Shit, this bad feeling just got worse. Andy said that they didn’t do repeat clients for risk of secret getting out, and the Merrick incident only reinforced the sentiment.
“You must be getting older if you think a decade is ‘so soon’, Crow.” Joe quipped back. “How much are you losing?” Nile didn’t know if it was more or less reassuring that they seemed to know each other. She had thought the group’s contacts with mortals were limited, unless…
The man (Crow?) replied, “Ah, well, it’s passed the ten-year mark, so only a hundred euros. I guess it’s partially my fault for letting Condor and Raven bait me into a bet about running into a group who you can literally hire to go places and do stuff.”
A look of realisation spread across Joe’s face. “You wouldn’t happen to know a ‘James Copley’, would you? Former CIA?”
Crow paused for a moment. “Did he have a wife who died of ALS a couple years back?” Joe nodded. “I think she was friends with Raven, and he helped her with palliative care towards the end. He might still know her husband. Why?”
“He organises our jobs now.” Andy joined in, “He said a contact of his requested us.”
“For fuck’s sake,” Crow laughed, “I swear, I’m going to have call those two to congratulate and curse them out for this.” He calmed himself down, “Anyway, I’m glad it’s you guys and not just some sketchy mercenaries. It’s good to see you again, even if it means losing a bet.”
“It’s unfortunate that you lost, but we’re also glad to see you again.” Nicky replied.
“Thank you, Nicolo, your kind words almost make up for the hole in wallet.” Crow turned to look directly towards Nile, “So, you’re new, and so I presume you are also, you know.” He gave a vague hand gesture, as if it were obvious what he meant.
“She is.” Andy replied before Nile could respond. Crow gave an understanding nod, and then looked towards where a name was called out.
“That’s me.” He turned back, referring to the name that quite clearly was not ‘Crow’, “We can chat more afterwards.”
“Don’t count on it.” Joe replied, but in the way he used when he teased his family, not the one he would use with a stranger he wanted to get rid of.
“Aww,” Crow said walking backwards with an exaggerated sad face, which quickly turned into a playful smile before he ran off to direct his attention where it was called. Something was definitely strange here.
“Would anyone care to explain to me what just happen?” Nile asked somewhere between confused and accusingly. “Like why mortals apparently know?”
“It’s a lot to explain right now.” Nicky said at the same time Andy said, “He’s not mortal.”
…What?
*
Nile didn’t have time to respond before the head medical officer came up to them and discussed the operation. Andy and Joe were more active in the discussion, while Nile stood back, trying to process what just occurred.
“Are you okay?” Nicky looked concerned. But by the fact there is another immortal here, Nile wondered, or by my reaction?
“Not until you explain why you didn’t tell me before about other -” Nicky cut her off.
“We’ll explain later, but not in public. I’m sorry Nile, we did mean to tell you earlier, it’s just … a lot.” Nicky glanced around to check if anyone was listening in, but it seemed like everyone was preoccupied with preparations. “Just know this: Crow is not our enemy, but it’s important that you don’t touch him.”
Before Nile got the chance to ask why, Andy turned around to give them instructions. “Right, there are two trucks of cargo and one bus of passengers. Joe and Nicky will take bus, and Nile and I will have a truck each.”
“But -” Nile was about to object to Andy guarding a truck alone, but she was quickly cut off.
“I’ll be fine, we’re literally travelling with medics, so if something bad happens, I’ll have help with me. We’ll have radio communication. It’ll be okay Nile.” The ‘I won’t leave you alone so quickly’ was left unsaid.
Andy continued, “For the sake of being inconspicuous, each truck will take a slightly different route, but it should take no more than four hours regardless. We’re heading directly to the hospital through rural areas, so we shouldn’t have much trouble.” Andy went into some more specifics about the mission before taking a deep breath. “I love you all.”
It was something they had begun to do before any potentially dangerous task: expressing their love for one another. They never knew what mission would be Andy’s last, so they took extra effort part on good terms. But not for Booker apparently, Nile had said during one of their arguments, does he really deserve to be cut off from his family? She understood that the punishment was not made out of anger, but rather a sense of making sure the consequence was equivalent to the magnitude of the action however, that did not change the fact that a century was so long for a young immortal like Booker or Nile.
They embraced in a group hug, and then set off to their respectively vehicles. Nile was assigned the furthest truck out, which apparently held blood samples from across the country that needed to be tested, as well as some vital equipment. She hopped into the front seat, only to be startled to see that the driver was Crow.
"So, I guess I haven’t properly introduced myself yet." He grinned, "At this time, I’m known as Harry Miller, but our kind call me Crow, so you can too. It’s easier than remembering a new name every couple of decades. And you are?”
This was going to be a long drive. Nile’s bad feeling just got worse.
*
The lowlands were not particularly exciting to drive through, but on a job like this ‘not particularly exciting’ was a good thing. The road they were travelling on was rarely used, making it less likely to be noticed. Nile just hoped the others weren’t getting into any trouble without her, especially Andy. Anyway, she might not have any physical issues to deal with at the moment, but she certainty had some existential ones in regards to the immortal sitting next to her.
Two and a half hours into the drive without any major issues, and despite Crow not wanting to discuss immortality (or “you know what” as he liked to put it) directly where he believed they could be listened in on, Nile had learnt three things:
- Crow was indeed immortal in the sense that Nile, Joe, Nicky, and Booker were immortal. One day he would stop healing and start ageing, but that hasn’t happened yet, and until then he’s unkillable.
- Crow was not the only extra immortal. He had his own family (who all had bird names apparently); they just didn’t always travel together. (“We need to spread out wings and go where the wind takes us.” He had said. Nile wondered if the bird pun was done on purpose.)
- Crow was quite literally the source of Nile’s bad feeling. (“Sorry about that,” he apologised, “for whatever reason for our existence, fate has decided to push our groups apart. It’ll get better the longer we’re exposed to each other.” Nile wanted to know what he meant by that, but apparently that was better left until they regrouped to be discussed.)
Crow reassures Nile that she is free to interrogate him in private once they get to their destination. He also suggested swapping contact details, because whatever the force is that keeps them apart, it apparently doesn’t work through wires or electromagnetic waves.
The conversation was followed awkward silence as Nile ran out of subjects they could discuss at that moment (awkward on Nile’s part, Crow seemed content just humming along to the Queen album he put on without discussion). Just as Nile thought the drive was uneventful, a truck appeared in the distance. The few other people they had seen up until now were all walking, and Nile could tell from the way Crow tensed up that he did not see this as a good sign.
“Fuck.” Crow said as it rapidly approached. “Look, Nile, I can deal with this. I don’t know for certain which group this is, but they should let us pass. Besides, it’s not like we’re the ones in serious danger here.”
“Let me help deal with them if they stop us.” Nile responded, “That’s the whole point of us being here.”
“No, if you get out with your weapon that will just escalate the situation. Which could lead to you know what to becoming apparent.”
The opposing truck quickly turned and stopped, creating a barricade across the road and causing Crow to hit the brakes quickly. Two men in camo got out and started calling out to them, but Nile couldn’t recognise what group they belonged to, or what they were saying. Crow quickly got out of the truck with his hands up to show he wasn’t holding any weapon, and started speaking … Portuguese? Nile couldn’t quite tell, but it sounded similar enough and she knew Portuguese was the most widely spoken language in the country, a scar of colonialism.
The situation didn’t seem to escalate immediately, but Nile unbuckled her seatbelt and got her weapon ready anyway. She watched for a moment as Crow tried to explain the situation. There was a bit of back-and-forth, before a gun was pulled out, but that didn’t deter Crow. If he were a mortal, his dauntlessness would be board-line stupidity, Nile thought. The men gestured towards the back of the truck, and the three of them walked back there. Out of Nile’s field of vision.
It was only a few moments before Nile heard the cargo door open, and then voices being raised, and then a gunshot.
“Fuck!” Nile shouted as she scrambled out of the car. She ran towards the back of the truck.
The man guarding the back of the truck had evidently been expecting her. He yelled out a warning before firing his gun. Nile tried to dodge the bullet, but it still hit her in the shoulder.
Nile didn’t know if she would ever get used to the pain of being shot, but she kept running anyway.
That took the man off-guard, for just a moment, but it was enough for Nile to strike. She kicked him down and shot his lower leg, hoping the pain would keep him down. In the corner of her eye, she could see Crow lying on the ground, blood pooling around his upper body area.
The commotion had caused the other man to stop inspecting the truck’s cargo and walk towards the opening. Nile couldn’t disarm him from a lower angle, and she also didn’t want to shoot directly into the cargo, so she waited for her opponent to come to her.
The footsteps became slower around the corner as each fighter readied their weapon. The action vaguely reminded Nile of the historical duels recounted by her family, but instead of counting to ten, the timer were their steady footsteps. Except unlike most of those historical duels, it didn’t matter if Nile shot first or not, she would survive regardless.
They both turned at the same time, guns point at each other. An uneasy armistice.
Crow made a sound, which distracted the man for just a second. Nile took the opportunity and hit his head, knocking him down and probably out for a moment.
With the opponents incapacitated, Nile ran over to check on Crow. Although he had made a noise, she couldn’t tell if it was a pre- or post-death sound. There was always the fear that their ability would stop working. There’s even a chance he can’t heal with me around, Nile worried, before realising that her wound had already healed, so that logic should be mutual. There was a lot of blood, and she couldn’t tell if Crow had healed yet or not. She grabbed his wrist to check for a pulse.
It burned.
It burned like whatever force pushed them apart and gave Nile her bad feeling had fully manifested in the form of pain. She flinched back instinctively and let a small cry out in pain. She checked her hands to see whether the marks were physical. They weren’t, and the pain still lingered.
In the heat of the moment she forgot Nicky’s warning. Is this what he meant?
Crow gasped for air, evidently alive again. It took him less than a moment to register what probably was the equal and opposite react of pain, as he groaned and quickly tried to inspect his wrist.
“Nile, did you touch my wrist?” Crow got up on his knees in an attempt to stand up.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know it would burn.” The pain was quickly dissipated, but the memory of hurt still at the forefront of Nile’s mind.
“It’s okay, we’ll be fine.” His tone suggested the words were meant to reassure both Nile and himself. Crow struggled onto his feet, the way one does when just shot. “Are you okay? Did you get hurt?”
“I’m fine.” As fine as she ever was after a fight.
He looked at the men on the ground, one who was groan in pain from gunshot wounds to the leg and the other unconscious. “So, you kept them alive?”
“Yes.” Nile, or any of the Old Guard for that matter, did not enjoy killing. Their line of work, their destiny, did involve violence, but they never took pleasure in it. They were mercenaries, yes, but they tried to have a moral code about it. And when death did occur … Nile didn’t know if she ever would be able cope with it.
“Good, let’s make sure they’re okay and then we can continue.”
“What?” Yes, the Old Guard only used violence when necessary, but that didn’t mean they nursed their adversaries back to health.
“We need to make sure they’re okay. Get the first aid kit and bandages.” Crow knelt down at the man with the shot leg and applied pressure to the wound. “Now, please.” Nile didn’t need to be told twice.
*
It took them half an hour before Crow was satisfied enough the treatment to leave. He disinfected and bandaged the wound, explaining the bullet would need to be removed surgically to avoid more blood lost and infection. The other man seemed to be without concussion, but Crow instructed him to be cautious of any of the symptoms. He gave them both a stern talking to, probably about keeping quiet about the whole ordeal. The men seemed terrified, but that probably because they were being lectured to by a man who just died and brushed it off it was nothing, rather than Crow’s actual tone or words.
Turns out the men were local bandits, stealing things to sell on the black market, and the equipment and medicine would go for quite a price. They changed clothes in order to not arouse suspicion when they got back, because bloody clothes tended to turn heads. When they got back into the truck and continued driving, Nile called the others on the radio to let them all know they were safe but delayed.
“Do you usually help people who shoot you?” Nile asked after the radio conversation.
“No, not usually,” Crow laughed, “Usually they don’t need medical care until after I’ve fought back, and even then, it’s usually not severe. My family tries to stick to the whole ‘medical neutrality’ thing. And believe me, that’s more difficult than it sounds.” Crow’s tone of voice then became more sober, “Thank you for not killing them, I know it would have been easier to just shoot them directly but -”
“But that would violate your whole ‘do no harm’ spiel, yeah?” Nile finished. “I don’t like violence either. But I’m worried about if they talk.”
“I doubt that we’re in danger. Even if they do speak, it’s likely the listener will interpret it as a tall tale. Or if they do believe it, it will just join into a collection of conspiracy theories outsiders don’t believe.” Crow replied. “Also, primum non nocere is a bit of a medical misnomer. Sometimes you have to break a bone for it to heal properly, you know?”
*
They were the last group to arrive, which was to be expected given their circumstances. Nile’s bad feeling hadn’t disappeared, but it did become easier to ignore. She was helping Crow unload the truck’s equipment, when her family came over to check on her.
Nile paused helping Crow, but Joe and Nicky came to his aid in helping unload a large trolley. Andy wrapped her arms around Nile in a hug. “Heard you had a scuffle.”
“Yeah, we’re all good now though.” Nile said as she released from Andy’s embrace.
“Good to hear. We would want our dear old medic to get harmed, now would we?” Andy joked dryly.
“I can still hear you.” Crow called out behind them, which earned a chuckle from Andy.
They finished unloading the truck, which didn’t take too long. Crow just had to do some things to wrap up, and then he would meet with the Old Guard at their accommodation for dinner. Nile would get to question him then. In the meantime, she had some other immortals (and one now-mortal, she supposed) to question.
*
“So, when were you going to actually tell me?” Nile asked, shutting the door behind her. “Or was it meant to be a surprise of the moment type thing?”
“Honestly, we kind of forgot to tell you.” Andy replied before Joe or Nicky had time to respond, saving them the embarrassment of having to create an excuse. “It’s not something we think about often.”
“What the hell does that mean? How can you just not think about other immortals when there are so few of us?”
“Because they’re not like us. They -”
Now it was Nicky’s turn at saving Andy from saying something embarrassing. “What Andy means to say is that they are not warriors.” He looked at her and Andy gave an approving nod to let Nicky continue the explanation.
“You pointed out once, that every member of the Old Guard was in some way a fighter. You were not wrong. You were just wrong to apply that logic into saying that every immortal had been a warrior. There are other immortals, but they die different deaths and only dream of others of similar circumstances; their destiny is different to ours.
“The group Crow is a part of calls themselves the Phoenixes – they see their abilities as comparable to the mythical bird, and so they rename themselves after the animal. There are currently five of them -”
“-That we know of,” Joe interjected.
“That we know of,” Nicky corrected, “and they were all medics or healers who died of disease. So that’s what they continue to do.”
“Okay, but that still doesn’t explain why you’ve never mention them.”
“We don’t interact with them often, so we don’t think of them often. Whether it is by destiny repulsion, or by the fact that if we spend too much time together it ends in a fight, is undecided.” Andy laid back on the sofa causally as if this wasn’t another world-changing conversation for Nile.
“One or two of them is just fine in the short term.” Joe added, “But in the long run it would be unsustainable for us to work together as a unit.”
“But you all seemed to get along with Crow before. Is ‘we don’t get along’ really the explanation you’re going for here?” Nile grew more frustrated, in what way was this sensible reasoning? Just like with a 100-year exile, her family seemed to not have their priorities in order. “Because if so, it sucks -”
“We burn when we touch.” Andy cut in, “When we’re too close, our instincts tell us to run away. With too much exposure, we get sick, our wounds stop healing as fast. They don’t make us mortal, just like we don’t make them mortal, but our immortality mutually weakens when we’re together. I don’t know how it works, just like I don’t know why each of us have immortality, or why I lost mine. I just know that it is.” She sighed, “That’s why we keep out each other’s way. It’s easier for everyone involved.”
Nile took a deep breath. “Earlier today, Crow got shot. I tried to check his pulse, but just as I touched his wrist, it felt like my hand was fire, and I think it hurt him too. Is that what you’re talking about? That you don’t interact for fear of hurting each other?”
They all averted her gaze for a moment, hesitant to admit the reason why they avoid their own kind is due to pain, something they experience constantly regardless, and something that does not hurt as much as the overwhelming force of loneliness and isolation.
“Yes.” Andy said. And that was the end of that conversation.
*
Nile went for a walk to clear her head and try to process some emotions. She had been trying to keep on top of her mental health, not wanting to go into a depression spiral of grief and loneliness like Andy and Booker, but it was difficult when she couldn’t exactly explain her situation to a therapist, or even just an outsider who could understand what she’s going through. I wonder if any of the Phoenixes have experience in psychological therapy, she thought for a moment, if they would even be willing to take on an immortal patient.
By the time Nile got back to their accommodation, Joe and Nicky were already cooking dinner together in the small kitchen provided, while Andy was nowhere to be seen. Nile walked over to see what they were cooking, which seemed to be a seafood-based dish based on the ingredients.
“We’re making a modified matata,” Nicky said as he chopped the vegetables, “a seafood stew. It should only take an hour or so.” Nile mentally added another half-an-hour to that calculation, just as Andy advised her to. (“Look, when Joe and Nicky are cooking together, and one of them says it’s going to be however long, add another 50% timewise.” Andy told her on one of her first nights at the safe-house, “They get distracted flirting with each other, so it always takes them a bit longer than they think it will.” Nile thought she was exaggerating, surely after 900 years they still couldn’t be lovey-dovey all the time. It only took a couple weeks and several wrong estimation times for her to realise that, no, Andy was not exaggerating.)
“Where’s Andy?” Nile asked.
“She went to go and find Crow.” Joe answered, “She wanted to tell him about her mortality, before he found out accidentally.”
“Oh, so she’s reflected on the importance on telling people things before they find out in an unexpected way?” It was a cheap shot and she knew it, but Nile was still upset.
“Kind of, I think it’s more that she and Crow go back to his days of mortality.”
“Are you going to elaborate on that? Or just leave me hanging?” It had never occurred to Nile that the immortals could have known each other before their deaths.
“That’s probably something you should question Crow about.” Joe said as he returned to cooking. “It’s not my place to give you details on another immortal’s life.”
*
It was another three quarters of an hour before Andy returned with Crow. Nile heard them outside, so she went to greet them at the door. Immediately she regretted it, as the tension felt like she had just walked into a fight.
“Is dinner ready yet?” Andy asked, obviously trying to ignore the vibe.
“Not yet, they’re still cook-” Nile said, but she didn’t get to finish before Andy went to the kitchen, probably in an attempt to avoid any further discussion.
Nile turned to Crow. “Did you fight?”
“More about the Booker thing than the mortality thing. Honestly, that explains the sharp increase of late-night drunk texts I’ve been getting from him.” Oh, so they had also discussed the exile.
“You have contact with Booker?”
“Yeah, we bond over being in the ‘shit phase’ of immortality as we put it. You don’t have his number?”
“No, I didn’t get the chance.”
“Right,” Crow got his phone out of his side bag, “Give me your number and I’ll send you his contacts.” He typed in his passcode and opened his contacts. “That is, assuming you’re okay with breaking his banishment.”
“I am.” 100 years was too long to be alone, even for an immortal.
Crow smiled. “I knew there was something I liked about you.”
He passed Nile his phone and she put her number in. It was a number that Copley had provided to her, meant to be harder to track. Crow took his phone back and sent a message, which caused Nile’s phone to buzz.
[Unknown number] (17:34) >>Hey 😊, it’s ur fav birb friend 🐦
Nile laughed. “You’re pretty good at technology for a …?”
“Hundred and eighty-year-old. But because I look young, I have to keep up with technology. Just as well for my family, I swear, without me they would have no idea what the internet is.”
“Is that going to happen to me as well?”
“I can almost guarantee it.” He slipped his phone back into his bag. “So, what questions do you have?”
*
They sat down across from each other, Crow patiently waiting for Nile to begin her questions. Even though she had composed a mental list throughout the day, when the moment came her mind was blank.
“So, um, how and when did you die?” She began, probably a good place to start all things considered.
“Fall, 1863. I got sick with pneumonia in late October, and then was finished off by typhoid fever, or typhus, I never got a diagnosis so I’m not sure, by mid-November. I didn’t realise at first I had died though, I just thought I made a miraculous recovery.”
“So how did you work out you immortal then?”
“Apart from the dreams and the fact I could no longer attend to Andromache or Sebastien without burning? A couple years later I was shot in the head and survived, so that made it obvious.”
There was a lot to unpack here. “All right, one step at a time: How did you know Andy and Booker?”
“We worked together in the Union Army. Booker was the forger who helped me fake my credentials to get in, and I ended up working as a junior medic for Andy’s unit. I discovered her ability when she got shot in a duel but healed before I could do anything. We were friends after that, I knew her secret and she knew mine.”
Nile did a quick calculation in her head. “You fought in the Civil War? Without medical expertise?”
“Yes to the first part and kind of no to the second. I didn’t actually have any formal medical training, but I did have experience dealing with the sick. I know that might not sound like much, but the standards were really low then for war medicine. You were two times more likely to die due to sickness than combat. Besides, they were so low on medics that I don’t think they would have even cared if they realised.”
“So, you survived the war only to get shot later. And that’s when you realised you were immortal.” Nile relaxed back into her seat a bit. What would it be like to be immortal for years without realising it? At least with her death she didn’t have much ambiguity. “That must have been quite a shock for your shooter.”
“Eh, I suspected there was a 50-50 chance of survival.” It took Nile a moment to realise what he meant, and Crow continued his explanation before she could ask. “I tried to run away from my old life after the war. I got away with it for a while, but then a traveller from my hometown recognised me. It all went to shit after that, and faking my own death, or failing to fake it, was preferable to the alternatives.”
“The alternatives being …?”
“Forced to present as a woman for the rest of my life or be sent to a mental asylum if I was really insistent in going on as I was.” Crow finished. “Folks back then often weren’t so often accepting of, ahem, “cross-dressers” and their “deception”.” He used air quotations for the last parts, obviously cringing at the way his situation was presented.
Crow was saying a lot of things at once that Nile took a pause to quickly process what he was saying. Even before having The Old Guard (and their many stories) as a primary source, Nile knew queer people had existed all throughout history. Her first girlfriend was a total history nerd, and often enjoyed giving little titbits of information. But if her time with the Old Guard had shown her anything, it was that while it was one thing to learn about history from textbooks and the internet, it was another thing entirely to hear it directly from the source.
“You’re transgender.” She said at last.
“I guess that’s the modern term for it. The terminology is rapidly evolving, which makes it difficult to stick to one identity as an explanation. I suppose you can call me a trans man or a transmasc non-binary guy, depending on how specific you want to get. I try not to get to bogged down in the details.” Crow smiled, “But yeah, I wanted to keep living as a man so I kept on moving around until could. I got plenty of medical and life experience during the 30-odd years before the rest of the Phoenixes found me. Or rather before I found them.” He took a pause, “Any more questions?”
Nile knew that if she started asking Crow questions about queer history, about what it was like living as a trans person for the past two centuries, or if he knew any historical queer figures, she wouldn’t be able to stop for the rest of the night.
(It had been like that with Andy, Joe and Nicky.
“Did you know Sappho?” “Did you know da Vinci?” “Did you know Emily Dickerson?” “Did you know Oscar Wilde?” “Did you know Freddie Mercury?”
“What was it like back then?” “Could you be open about it?” “Did people know and just not talk about it?” “Did they know and talk about it, and it’s just been erased?”
“Did you inspire any love poems?” (This one had earned numerous stories. Turns out, yes, they all very much did inspire quite a bit of art. Joe even claims his poetry abut Nicky was reused in some of the most famous love poems out there.)
It was almost two am by the time Nicky insisted they all got some sleep. Nile still continues to ask questions sporadically.)
“I’ll sent you a list.” Nile finally answered.
“I’m looking forward to it.”
*
Dinner was soon served and just like all of the other dishes made by the older immortals, was delicious. (That was the benefit of hundreds of years of experience, you could get really good at cooking). Throughout the evening Nile learnt bits-and-pieces the other birds: Hawk, Kite, Raven, and Condor. The rest of the Old Guard seemed to know who Crow was referring to well, which made it a bit awkward for Nile. Andy and Crow seemed to put aside their earlier argument and were discussing times they outright told mortals of their abilities, only to have the mortals not believe them.
“Okay, okay,” Crow was trying to calm himself down after laughing at Andy’s story, “but I cannot tell you the amount of times I’ve seen that someone online has connected all the dots, having concrete evidence of our existence, and their fellow conspiracy theorists go “idk man sounds made up” just because there is no government cover-up or secret world power narrative to it.” He took a sip of his drink. “It’s hilarious.”
That made everyone else at the table go quiet, and for just a moment, Crow had a ‘oh shit did I say something wrong’ look on his face. “Are you saying mortals knew about us the entire time, they just think it’s a story?” Joe asked. Nile could see that he was mentally trying to work something out, possibly realising that the Merrick incident was not inevitable, but almost entirely because of Booker’s betrayal.
“Um, yeah. We exist in a sort of urban-legend-slash-cryptid area of the cultural zeitgeist. Most people brush our existence off, but those who believe in our existences, really believe in our existence. Luckily, they’re a small enough minority that most people don’t take them seriously, or at least seriously enough to hunt us.”
“Wait, is that why the Phoenixes have their tracks everywhere? You guys don’t bother to hide?” Andy said. “That explains Copley’s second and third conspiracy note boards.”
“It’s not that we make no effort,” Crow said sheepishly, “we do change our names and avoid documentation when we can. It’s just that we don’t actively try and erase ourselves from history. And okay, sometimes we do lean into it a bit. Hawk has a twitter and I have a tumblr -”
“You have a tumblr?!” Nile interjected. She was aware of the site, but she thought it had lost popularity long ago. The thought of a 180-year-old immortal using the site strangely did not change her perception of it much though.
“What’s a tumbler?” Nicky asked. Joe leaned over to whisper an explanation.
Crow continued without acknowledging either of the other immortals. “Where we joke about immortal problems. And people just think it’s absurdist humour.”
“Doesn’t that break any of your rules?” Andy tilted her head.
“Rules?” Nile felt like that term had some in-group meaning, and she wanted to know.
“It’s a minor infraction of 504, but Kite doesn’t feel like enforcing it often.” Crow replied and turned to Nile, “My family has created a list of rules over the millennia. Well, they’re more like guidelines, because there really isn’t any punishment for breaking them. It’s meant to keep us from repeating stupid mistakes, but also gives us a leg to stand on when we get into arguments so we can go ‘look, you broke 397, make sure the safe-house food isn’t out of date, can’t say we didn’t tell you, blah blah blah’. We currently have around 532 rules.”
“And you just remember them all?”
“I remember the important ones.” Crow turned back to Andy. “Which reminds me, we have a bunch of rules for becoming mortal.”
“Go for it.”
“Hmm okay, from the top of my head: 2 – memento mori.”
“Already doing that.”
“76 – have a death plan.”
“Natural burial wherever’s easiest.”
“385 – be up-to-date with vaccinations.”
Andy paused for a moment. “I’m supposed to do that?”
Crow looked shocked, “You’re joking, right?” He looked around the table, “Did you all seriously just forget about vaccinations?”
(They did, in fact, forget about vaccinations. As well as many other preventive health measure mortals use to keep on living. You tend to forget about disease and aging when you heal fast and can’t die.)
Crow insisted that Andy have a medical check-up, if not by a mortal doctor, then at least by a Phoenix. They discussed plans and arranged to meet at Copley’s house in a month from then (not a safe-house – they keep their safe-houses secret from each other as a security measure), which gave Crow enough time to organise everything that was required.
Crow told the Old Guard to text him if they had any medical issues in the meantime. (Nile felt sorry for the man; he was about to get a storm of texts concerning every ill feeling Andy experienced.) At the end of the night, he bid them all farewell and left.
*
Later that night, as Nile was trying to get some sleep on a cheap mattress, she heard her phone buzz.
[Crow] (22:37) >> Hey, Nile? I know it didn’t say it before, but if you every need someone to listen to you vent, I’m here
I’ll take u up on that offer sometime << (22:38) [Nile]