Chapter Text
Harmless rain pattered against the window. It was a soft, oddly comforting, sound—nothing like the hiss of rain on the Boiling Isles.
Hunter wondered if it was the human part of him that found it soothing. He laid back on his elbows, the sleeping bag crinkling under his arms as he looked at the darkening sky.
A wave of exhaustion washed over him. In the past few hours, he had nearly been drained of magic, faced Belos, been stranded in the human realm, and doted on by Mrs. Noceda. It had been a dozen straight hours of survivor mode and now that the others were all settled into sleep, he was feeling the effects of it.
His muscles ached more than from any previous battle. The sigil on his right arm had stopped burning, but every time he caught sight of it he winced at the memory of searing pain.
He traced the sigil with his thumb before pointedly looking away, focusing on his surroundings. The living room was dimly lit by a single lamp to the right of the couch, where Gus was sleeping.
Well, he was supposed to be sleeping. Instead, the boy was sitting up, shoulders hunched, knees to his chest, staring at Hunter.
“Uh, did you want this spot?” Hunter asked in confusion. He had let Gus take the couch as it seemed more comfortable. Mrs. Noceda and the girls were sharing the various bedrooms upstairs. Judging by the lack of creaking floorboards and muffled conversations, they had finally fallen asleep.
Gus shook his head.
Hunter frowned. When they had first arrived in the human realm, Gus had broken down in tears. He had cheered up a bit as Luz introduced him to hot chocolate and Mrs. Noceda served a surprisingly flavorful dinner. Now he looked rather vacant, as if lost in thought.
“Are you okay?” Hunter asked. He knew it was a dumb question. How could any of them be okay, after all they had lost today? And yet, he had been foolish enough to ask.
Gus sat up straight, his expression hardening. “Can I ask you something? About Belos?”
Hunter’s stomach knotted. The last thing he wanted to talk about—even think about—was Belos. Despite everything Belos had done to him, despite having tried to kill him, Hunter felt a strange ache in his chest knowing the only family he had ever had was dead. Some small part of him had hoped for—what? Redemption? Surely it was too late for that. Answers to his questions? Would knowing why Belos had created him really make a difference?
Against his better judgment, Hunter nodded, granting Gus permission to ask his questions.
Gus frowned. “When I looked into Belos’ mind I saw…he hurt someone. I think he killed someone. Someone who looked like you.”
Hunter’s shoulders tensed. Every part of him screamed to deny it, to lie, change the subject or assure Gus that he must be mistaken because he’s clearly still alive and well. But . . . this was Gus, one of the first people in Hunter’s life who had shown him pure no-strings-attached friendship. He deserved the truth. And under the rapid pounding of his heart, part of Hunter wanted Gus to know the truth. He hoped that his friends would accept him for who he is rather than what he is—a gruesome copy of someone else. After all, Luz had learned the truth and still she had risked her life for him. Maybe Gus would be the same.
Hunter’s hands trembled as he moved to sit beside Gus. The smaller boy slid over, making room for him on the couch.
Hunter sat down and took a deep breath. “That’s because—”
Hunter gulped. His heartbeat quickened. What if he was wrong about Gus? What if his next words caused Gus to stop seeing him as a witch at all and rather as a Grimwalker, something evil and unnatural made to serve Belos? His protective instincts kicked in and his lips sealed shut.
Gus placed a comforting hand on Hunter’s shoulder. “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it.”
The compassion in his voice paired with the haunted look in his eyes softened Hunter’s defenses. Gus had clearly seen something dark in Belos’ mind that left him scared. The poor boy was in need of comfort, and Hunter could provide at least some comfort with the truth.
He took a deep breath. This wasn’t about him, it was about comforting Gus. He pointedly looked at the carpet as he spoke, avoiding Gus’s gaze. “Belos once lost someone close to him and he… he created Grimwalkers in his image.”
He felt Gus stiffen at his side, but his hand didn’t fall from Hunter’s shoulder. So Hunter continued slowly, “—and when they failed to serve him exactly to his wishes, he replaced them.”
Gus’s hand fell from Hunter’s shoulder. Hunter flinched and stiffened, preparing for an onslaught of harsh words or whatever punishment he deserved for keeping such a secret.
There was only the gentle pitter-patter of rain against the windows.
After several long anxiety-filled seconds, Hunter couldn’t take the anticipation any longer. He turned to Gus who was staring at him, wide-eyed.
“So you’re a—?”
“Grimwalker, yeah.”
Gus blinked.
Hunter gripped the edge of the couch to keep himself from running away. He forced himself to continue, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I just found out and—”
Gus flung himself at Hunter. Hunter barely had time to brace for impact as Gus tackles him… in a hug. Of course it was a hug. Hunter’s shoulders relaxed, his fear melting under Gus’s warm embrace.
“I’m so glad you got away from him.”
Hunter blinked back tears. Gus was still his friend. Knowing the horrific truth, Gus still cared about him. “Me too.”
Gus hugged Hunter tighter and Hunter hugged him back, letting his fears fade away. In this moment, there was no collector, no Belos, no being trapped in the human realm. Just two friends leaning into each other’s presence, appreciating each other’s company.
For the first time since Blight Manor, Hunter felt safe.