Chapter Text
Seth sat in his car, focused solely on the steering wheel and how tightly his hands were squeezing it. There was a lot of yelling outside, a lot of Isaac and his dad shouting threats and insults at each other. Seth shut his eyes tightly, trying to ignore it. Then the passenger door opened, and he jumped, staring with panicked eyes at…Isaac, who looked angrier than he’d ever seen before, his eyes beginning to turn a sickly yellow-green. But then the anger faded, and he sighed, closing his eyes.
“I’m sorry, Starlight.” Seth looked down again and nodded. “...I think I should drive us home.” Seth nodded again, but rather than get out of the car, he painstakingly moved over into the passenger seat. Isaac watched him do so, but once he’d finally sat down again, he leaned closer and kissed Seth’s forehead. “ Ti amo, tesoro mio. ” Then he quietly shut the door and walked around to the driver’s side.
Seth could only stare out the window as they drove away, wiping his eyes every now and then when hot tears spilled from them.
He had thought that, if Isaac were there, his dad would at least go a little bit easier on him. If anything, it made him worse. Not a day went by without some kind of passive aggressive comment or a rant about Seth being ‘confused’ and ‘needing help’...and that he didn’t think ‘a normal son’ had been too much to ask for.
Isaac never let a single comment or insult go by without responding in kind, and it only made his father more angry. As always, it eventually hit a boiling point.
And, as always, his mother did nothing. Said nothing. Too afraid to provide so much as an ounce of the support she promised over and over again that she would give. Never able to stand up to her husband to protect her only child.
She wouldn’t have to if you weren’t such a fuck-up. He wouldn’t hate you if you were normal. Isaac wouldn’t have had to go through this if it weren’t for you.
Seth shut his eyes tightly. His shoulders began to shake. Isaac said something, but he couldn’t understand what. Not when it felt like he was trapped in a void of dark water, ensnared by a current that always pulled him down just as he began to make it to the surface. And at the bottom of it, there was always the same thing. The same thought that he was always trying to ignore.
They would all be better off if you were gone.
“Is everyone ready?” Rachel whispers. While everyone around them responds to the affirmative, Seth checks his phone.
“Asher just texted me,” he says. “They’re on their way up.” A hand reaches out from the darkness and grabs his shirt, pulling him down behind a table.
“...it’d be really funny if somebody else opened the door and we scared the shit out of him,” Alex says. There’s a soft slap . “Ow! What the Hell, Zoey?”
“Be–first of all, that did not hurt you–be quiet!” Alex grumbles something, but quickly falls silent. Seth takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, musing for a moment about how it’s so dark in the dorm that there’s virtually no difference between his eyes being open and closed.
He can hear two voices approaching from outside, and tenses up, getting ready to move. The door opens.
“I told you Ash, I really don’t–” Niall turns on the lights.
“ SURPRISE!” Everyone yells, leaping out from their hiding spots. Niall jumps back right into Asher, who laughs, hugs him, and kisses the top of his head.
“ Feliz cumpleaños, cariño! ” he exclaims. Niall only stares at all of them–his team and his roommates–with wide eyes…until they meet Seth’s. Seth grins wider and gestures to the cake, sitting on the table he and Claire had been hiding behind.
“Happy twenty-first, Ni!” He says.
“I…” Niall looks down at the simple chocolate cake, the red cursive icing that reads ‘Happy B-Day!’, the unlit candles…and he finally smiles. It’s faint, but it’s there. “Thanks, guys…” Keith pulls out one of the chairs and gestures for him to sit down.
“Come on, skinny, you’ve got to sit down before we can cut it up!”
“Who made this?” Niall asks as he sits down.
“Me and Kate,” Keith replies. “It’s all home-made.” Niall looks up at him, surprised, then down at the cake again, that timid smile breaking out on his face again.
“Thanks…”
“No problem, Ni,” Kate says, setting down a plate and silverware in front of him while Zoey lights the candles. Asher and Claire are retrieving sodas from the fridge, so Seth walks over to the sofa and opens his bag, retrieving his camera and returning to the table as the others begin to crowd around it.
“Are you ready?” Rachel asks. Niall nods, and they all begin to sing.
“Happy birthday to you,
Happy birthday to you,
Happy birthday, dear Niall,
Happy birthday to you!”
Niall takes a deep breath and begins to blow out the candles. Seth snaps a picture of him, then lowers the camera. Kate begins to cut the cake, and everyone else either grabs a drink or begins to sit down somewhere.
“And once we’ve had the cake,” Seth says as he sits by Niall (Asher sits on his other side), “we’re taking you out to have your first drink!”
“Nothing too strong, though,” Rachel declares. “We don’t need you puking your guts out on your birthday.” Niall laughs, but to Seth it sounds a little bit forced.
“Where are we going?” He asks.
“That bar on Baker Street,” Asher replies. Niall raises his eyebrows.
“Dionysus?”
“That’s the one.” Niall hums, quietly thanks Kate when she puts a slice of cake on his plate, then takes a bite. His eyes light up immediately, and Kate laughs.
“You like it?” She asks. He nods emphatically and takes another. “You can thank Keith for that. I don’t know how he put so much chocolate in this thing without fucking up the recipe, but he pulled it off.”
“Years of practice,” Keith says, already stuffing his mouth full of cake. Niall eats a few more bites before he remembers what he’d been about to ask.
“Isn’t Dionysus a little, uh…hardcore?”
“It’s not really that bad,” Alex says. “People just hook up there a lot. The bar itself is pretty PG-rated. No strippers or other nightclub shenanigans.”
“Oh.” Niall looks down at his food for a second. “Then…yeah, I guess it sounds fun.”
“No big partying before the presents, though,” Kate says, walking around behind the couch and retrieving a gift bag. She plops it down on the table in front of Niall. “This one’s from me.” He looks up at her, getting that ‘deer in headlights’ expression he always does when he’s surprised by something nice.
“You didn’t have to–” he starts, but Kate interrupts him.
“It took me months to get these things right, please accept the damn gift.” Niall blinks and looks at the bag, then reaches in and pulls out two knitted beanies; one red and one green. “You always wear a red jacket or a green one, so I thought I’d give you something to match them.” Niall stares at the hats for a few seconds, then swallows and nods, carefully putting them back in the bag.
“I…thanks, Kate,” he mumbles. She smiles and ruffles his hair, then fixes it for him when he begins to cringe.
“No problem, Ni.”
“I’ve got a present for you, too,” Asher speaks up, “but it can wait until tomorrow.” He actually looks nervous, which Niall clearly picks up on, but he just nods.
“We all got something for you,” Rachel says with a smirk. “Just because you get weird about being given nice things doesn’t mean we can’t give you nice things.” Niall begins to protest that, but then sighs and looks down again with a sigh, his face flushed.
Seth’s phone vibrates, and he fishes it out of his pocket, hoping for a moment that it’s a message from Isaac.
‘Take Your Meds’
He stares at the alert for a few seconds, then stuffs his phone back into his pocket.
“Where’s the bathroom?” He asks.
“Down the hall, second door to the right,” Claire says, pointing with a fork. Seth nods and stands up.
“Are you okay?” Niall asks. Seth nods and plasters on a smile.
“Yep, just need to use it.” Niall’s eyes begin to narrow, so Seth turns away and heads down the hallway.
He shuts the bathroom door behind him and sighs, looking at himself in the mirror.
You look like your dad.
He grimaces and stuffs a hand into his pocket, then pulls out a small plastic baggie with a single pill in it. He hadn’t wanted to bring the whole bottle and let everyone hear it rattling around. He opens the baggie, pours the pill into his palm…and stares at it. Takes a slow, deep breath…then continues to stare.
They don’t work, and they make you tired all the time, anyway.
He puts the pill back in the bag and seals it, then steps over to the toilet. Guilt begins to eat at him, but only for a moment. He tosses the bag into the toilet and flushes it.
He begins to wash his hands, hating that he feels relieved to have done what he did.
Niall’s been quiet for most of the drive to Dionysus. This isn’t exactly unusual, but Asher nonetheless can’t shake the feeling that something’s wrong.
“You can talk to me about it if you want, cariño, ” he says, trying to keep his tone casual. Niall glances over at him, nods once, and then turns his gaze out the window again. Asher sighs, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. “We don’t have to go. I can tell the others that you’re too tired, or something.”
“It’s fine,” Niall replies. “This is part of my birthday party, so it’d be weird to ditch it.”
“It’s not good to be miserable at your own birthday party, either.”
“I’ll be okay, Ash. If it starts to be too much, I’ll let you know.”
Neither of them says anything for a bit. Finally, Asher takes a deep breath and nods.
“I believe you.”
A lot of businesses all over the city have already begun to put up fairy lights for the holidays, which nearly causes Asher to miss a turn; he was too busy staring at them.
“They look like this every year, Ash,” Niall says with a laugh.
“Hey, they’re still pretty,” Asher replies defensively…but he’s grinning too as he follows Seth’s car around the corner.
Dionysus is one of the few establishments in this part of Herla with its own parking lot…which is certainly a good thing, because the bar is constantly busy past 5pm. Tonight’s no different, but luckily, Asher doesn’t have to search for long before he finds a spot to park. Asher takes off his glasses and puts them in their case, then places it on the console and climbs out of the car. Niall does the same, then glances over at him and shakes his head.
“I don’t know how you’re wearing that in this weather,” he says. Asher glances down at the dark red dress shirt he’s wearing, then smirks.
“I think I’ll get warm enough pretty soon.” He deftly undoes the first three buttons of the shirt and tugs it apart. As expected, Niall’s face has begun to turn bright red, and he looks away. “What do you think? Trying too hard?”
“...a little bit,” Niall mutters. Asher grins and fixes the third button. “Better.”
“Great.” Asher wraps an arm around Niall’s shoulders as they walk towards the doors. “And don’t worry, you look great. I just don’t get the chance to wear this shirt much.”
“Thanks, baby…”
Kate and Rachel are already at a table when Seth walks in, so he slips through the crowd and sits down with them.
“Where’s Keith?” He asks over the bass of the music, which has been turned up so much that he can feel it pulsing through the floor, not that it seems to bother anyone else…certainly not the mass of swaying (or writhing) bodies on the dance floor. Seth watches them for a moment, picking out a few especially good-looking men to eye, then turns his attention back to Kate when she answers his question.
“He went to the bathroo–” Kate cuts herself off as Keith quickly passes by Seth and sits next to her, his eyes wide. “Uh, babe?”
“There was a threesome in the bathroom, Kate,” he says.
“Ew,” Rachel grimaces. “Did you tell them to knock it off?”
“Nobody else was,” Keith replies, drumming his fingers awkwardly on the table. “Some weirdo was literally using the urinal next to them.”
“...maybe we should go somewhere else,” Kate suggests, gently rubbing Keith’s back. “Partying already isn’t really Niall’s thing.”
“It’ll be fine,” Seth assures them. “They’re probably wasted. Give it five minutes and they’ll be out of there. Just, uh…avoid that side of the bathroom, I guess.” Keith shudders, looking for a moment as if he might be sick, but then Kate glances towards the entrance and gives them all a stern look. They all scoot over and smile as Asher and Niall arrive at the table; Niall sits by Seth and Asher by Keith. Niall sighs and glances over at the dancefloor with a look of distaste.
“I wish they wouldn’t play it so loud,” he says.
“You’ll get used to it,” Seth replies with a smile. “How about I get you a drink? They make Irish coffees here.” Niall side eyes him. “I promise it isn’t just because you’re Irish. It’s coffee, cream, and liquor.” Niall rolls his eyes.
“Alright, then.” He gets up to allow Seth to do the same, a faint smile on his face. “Who are the designated drivers tonight?”
“Me, Rachel, and Kate,” Asher says. “It’s our turn to patrol tonight, anyway.”
“Sounds good!” Seth gestures towards the bar. “I’ll be right back with some drinks.”
The bartender is a woman, probably in her early 30s, who reminds Seth of Kate in the serious way that she carries herself…and the ease with which she’s doing her job. She hardly even has to turn around to reach for the right bottles on the shelves behind her, and she mixes it all together with practiced ease while speaking to any customer that initiates conversation. When she turns to Seth, though, she stops.
“Ah, I was wondering when you’d come up here.”
“Why?” he asks, but she’s already turned away, her low ponytail swishing over her shoulder, and grabs a short glass with a vibrant pinkish-red liquid and a mint garnish. She places it in front of him with a smirk.
“From the guy at the table over there,” she says, nodding off to the side. Seth blinks and glances over.
A man around Seth’s age is staring back at him, his blue eyes wide and nervous. They get even bigger when he realizes Seth is looking at him, and he quickly lowers his head to stare down at the table while the two other men he’s with laugh. Seth watches for a moment longer, taking in his features. Short golden hair, handsome features, a very nice build under his blue t-shirt…
Why the Hell not?
Seth waits until the man nervously glances at him again, then picks up the drink and toasts towards him before taking a sip. His eyes widen as the taste spreads over his tongue, and he can’t help the hum of approval that comes out of him.
“This is really good.” He looks at the bartender, who’s grinning with pride…and probably amusement. “What is this?”
“A Quaker,” she replies. “You should talk to him, his buddies had to hype him up for a good few minutes before he worked up the nerve. It was adorable.” She winks at Seth and moves on to another customer, at which point that solemn pride returns to her. Seth takes another sip of the drink and glances over to the blond man again to see that he’s slowly making his way over, nervously running a hand through his hair. Seth smiles and sits down, waiting for him to come over.
“Hey there,” he says. “Thanks for the drink.” The man opens his mouth, then quickly closes it…then lets out a short, nervous laugh.
“Uh…y-yeah, no problem. I was hoping you’d like it.” He doesn’t say anything else for a few seconds, and there’s a mounting nervousness to his demeanor as the silence stretches on that reminds Seth distinctly of Niall.
Cute.
“What’s your name?” Seth asks, grinning.
“Winters!” The man replies quickly (and loudly)...then his face begins to turn red and he quiets down. “Sorry. Uh…Jack Winters.”
“Seth Blaines.” He takes another sip of the drink. “Do you buy drinks for strangers a lot, Jack?”
“N-No, I just–” Jack cuts himself off and glances back at his friends for a second. When he looks at Seth again, his nervous expression has been replaced by a barely held together grin that, consequently, seems far less confident than it’s probably meant to be. “Just, uh…just the really cute ones.” Seth tries his best not to laugh, but some amusement leaks into his voice despite his best efforts.
“I see. How many ‘really cute ones’ have you bought for tonight?” Seth asks, unable to resist teasing him a little bit. Jack once again falls silent, his facade of confidence once more replaced with panic. Seth laughs. “I’m just messing with you, Jack.” He glances towards his friends. Luckily, they seem preoccupied with conversation. “I’ll tell you what; I still need to get some drinks for my friends, but if you and your friends are going to be here for a while, we can keep talking in a few minutes. Is that okay?”
“Y-Yeah!” Jack clears his throat and lowers his voice again, forcing himself to sound more casual. “I mean…yeah. Sounds good. I’ll be here.” He looks back to his table. “Or, uh…over there, I guess.” His eyes are big and full of hope when they meet Seth’s again. “See you soon?”
“Not going anywhere for a while,” Seth replies. Jack grins brightly, then turns and walks back to his friends, who continue to hype him up with praise. Seth shakes his head with a chuckle, then turns back to the bartender. “An Irish coffee, a rum cream, and…another one of these Quaker things.”
He carefully holds each of the glasses as he makes his way over to the table. Niall stands up so that Seth can sit down in his previous spot, then sits beside him while he passes the drinks over. Keith’s eyes light up as he takes the drink and begins to take sips of it, likely hoping to forget about the trauma he’d just endured. Niall quietly takes a sip from his drink, seems to decide that he likes it, and takes a big gulp of it.
“Babe, slow down,” Asher warns him. Niall rolls his eyes, but puts the glass down and wipes his mouth on his sleeve.
“That guy’s a cop, you know,” he says. Seth blinks and looks over at him. Niall gives him a wry smile. “The guy that bought you a drink?” Seth leans over Niall, searching the crowd until he spots Jack at his table, talking animatedly with his friends. “Just got off duty, too.”
“How can you tell?” Seth asks. Niall takes another sip of his drink.
“He wears a hat a lot. Often enough that he starts to reach for it so he can fix his hair before remembering he isn’t wearing one.” Another sip. “He and his friends are all wearing the same kind of pants and shoes, so they have to work together. And when he was standing at the bar with you, I could see the outline of a badge in his pocket.” He takes another gulp of his drink, sending Asher a mischievous grin when it gets him another admonishment, and continues. “Either had a rough day, or he’s nervous, because he’s only had one drink no matter how much his friends are egging him on.”
“I love it when you do that,” Kate says with a proud smile, but her expression becomes more serious when she looks at Seth. “How far are you going to go with this guy?” Seth shrugs.
“Not that far. Probably just a one-night-stand. I’ll let him know that’s what I’m looking for before it gets too serious.”
“Would Ike be okay with that?” Niall asks. Seth nods, drowning the lump in his throat with the burn of alcohol as he finishes off his first glass and starts on the next.
“He said I could have hookups if I wanted while he’s gone, and I said the same to him.” He glances around at the others, all of whom are quietly staring at him. “No, I still don’t want to talk about it. Besides,” he nudges Niall with an elbow, “tonight’s supposed to be about Niall. Ash, why don’t you drag him onto the dance floor?” Asher grins and quickly stands, offering a hand to his boyfriend.
“May I have this dance, mi amor?” He asks, waggling his eyebrows. Niall shakes his head with a laugh and takes his hand.
“Fine, you weirdo,” he replies, then starts laughing again when Asher yanks him eagerly into the crowd of swaying people bathed in purple and green lights. Seth watches them for a moment, smiling, then returns his attention to the others…who are, once again, staring at him.
“Guys, I’m fine, and he’s going to be back soon, anyway.”
“Uh huh,” Keith mutters into his drink, taking a loud sip from it. Seth narrows his eyes.
“Don’t start with me, Keith,” he says. Keith lowers his drink and stares Seth down for a moment, but Kate clears her throat and begins pushing Keith towards the end of the booth.
“We should go check if the bathroom is orgy-free,” she suggests, all but pushing Keith out of the seat and then dragging him off by the sleeve. Seth sighs and looks down into his drink.
The thrumming music and the laughter seem to all fade away, and eventually even the vibrant hue of the drink vanishes.
He’s right. Why would Isaac ever come back? Now that he knows you’re broken, he doesn’t want anything to do with you.
He takes a deep breath and shuts his eyes.
Keith didn’t say that. And it isn’t what he meant.
But he knows that doesn’t mean that it isn’t true.
“Seth?” He opens his eyes again and looks up at Rachel. She frowns and gently rests her hand on his shoulder. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine.” He lifts his drink and tilts his head back, drinking it all down. Rachel stares at him, alarmed, but he brushes her hand off and stands up. “I’ll be right back. Go have fun, Rae.”
One of Jack’s friends sees Seth coming first and nudges him with a grin. Jack looks at Seth and immediately straightens up in his seat, hastily fixing his hair again. Seth forces on a smile and gestures back towards the dance floor.
“Want a dance, handsome?” he asks. Jack’s eyes widen, but before he can respond, his friends are laughing and pushing him out of the booth towards Seth, encouraging him to go.
His hand is a bit larger than Seth’s, and really sweaty, but Seth doesn’t care, pulling him along through the crowd of people.
“I’m not really a dancer,” Jack says over the booming music. Seth grins and tugs him closer until they’re chest-to-chest. Jack’s breath hitches, and his face turns a deep shade of red. Seth laughs and wraps an arm around him, then leans close, speaking into his ear.
“Just dance like nobody’s watching.”
Asher completely unbuttoned his shirt at some point during the dance, and it’s kind of hard for Niall not to step on his feet or stumble into other people when his boyfriend’s muscular torso is constantly tensing and rippling with his movements. Not to mention the occasional bead of sweat rolling down it…
Asher laughs and twirls him, then pulls him close, an arm wrapped securely around his waist.
“See something you like, baby?” He asks. Before Niall can respond, Asher tilts his chin upward and kisses him.
Fuck. Niall kisses him back, presses closer to him, reaches up to grab at Asher’s shirt…and misses completely, his hand pressing to his boyfriend’s toned stomach instead. Asher groans softly, abs tensing, and Niall shivers, closing his eyes as Asher’s tongue brushes along his lips. Niall opens his eyes again, looks right into Asher’s, so dark that in this lighting they look black–
Dean’s eyes meet Niall’s, but they hold no trace of the warmth that he’s accustomed to; they’re just shiny black pools, like the eyes of a beetle or a shark.
–Niall gasps and shoves Asher away, stumbling back into someone.
“Hey!” they shout.
He tries to speak, but nothing comes out, his throat feeling as if it’s closing up, like he’s being choked–
Dean’s hands wrap around his neck and squeeze.
–He steps backwards, nearly tripping over himself as the faces of the crowd begin to twist and contort, the shouts corrupting into screams of anger, of fear, of pain.
He suddenly sees Asher’s face again, distorted, his mouth moving but too muffled, like he’s talking underwater. The pain on his face, the worry and the heartbreak, Niall can’t look at it, not when his eyes–
He watches as Dean’s black eyes finally return to normal, but only for a moment as they close, a peaceful smile crossing his face.
He thrashes away and turns, falling to his hands and knees, but he doesn’t register the pain. Bile rises in his throat, and he scrambles away, just barely getting back on his feet.
He has to get away. It’s too much, it’s too loud, too hot, he can’t breathe. He finally breaks away from the crowd and nearly stumbles into a table, his legs feeling as if they’re made of jelly, like they’ll give out at any moment. The couple at the table jump, and the man sends him an annoyed glare, but the woman’s expression is concerned.
“Are you alright?” she asks. He stares at her, his mind going blank, but then he hears someone shout his name, and he keeps going, trying to breathe, to stay calm, but his heart feels like it’s being frozen over, and every beat of it hurts.
He makes it to the door and shoves it open, tripping towards the concrete. An arm grabs and steadies him, but Niall yanks himself away with a yelp, looking around wildly, searching through the mass of people, their faces seeming to merge together–
Dean seems to dissolve and move around like a liquid, the only discernible feature being his face…
He runs in a random direction, away from the noise and the shouting and the–
“Ni!” Before he can react, there’s a flash of light, and someone grabs and pulls him along. When they let go, he’s in a different place. Niall shoves them away, stumbling to the ground and staring up at them.
Seth looks down at him, worry etched across his face. Then he steps forward.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he says softly. “You’re alright, Niall.” Niall can only stare at Seth. Everything seems to melt away except for Seth’s face, the concern in his voice…
It was his idea to come here.
He doesn’t know where that thought comes from, or why it matters, but then the ice in his heart melts and runs down to his stomach…where it rapidly heats up, as if the water were beginning to boil. He slowly stands up, and Seth’s expression shifts to confusion.
“Niall?” He takes another step closer, slowly reaching a hand out. Niall slaps it away.
“Don’t do that, Seth!” He snaps. “I’m not a fucking animal.”
“I know that, Niall, but you were having a panic attack,” Seth replies calmly, despite the hurt look on his face. “I didn’t want to touch you if you weren’t okay with it.”
“But you wanted to drag me here, right?” Niall challenges. “You know I fucking hate places like that, and you had to bring me there anyway! And why, so you can find someone to fuck?!”
“That’s not why I brought you here, and you know it!” Seth exclaims indignantly. “It’s your twenty-first birthday, I thought you’d want to–”
“Well I didn’t! And you couldn’t be bothered to ask!” Niall advances on Seth, and this time, he’s the one that begins to step back. “Next time you want to get laid because you’re so fucking miserable about your tenth breakup with Isaac, do me a favor.” He finally reaches Seth and shoves at his chest. “Leave me out of it!”
“Hey!” Rachel pushes between them, glaring up at Niall. “Cut it out!”
“Or what?!” Niall shouts, the corners of his vision tingeing red. “What’ll you do, Rachel?!”
She moves faster than he realizes, and there’s a sting in the side of his face as his head jerks to the side.
Just like that, the anger subsides, and the red fades. Niall stares down at Rachel, but she just turns and kneels down by Seth.
“I’m okay,” he says quietly, then looks up at Niall. Neither of them says anything. Seth lowers his gaze and accepts Rachel’s help standing up. He holds a hand out. “I’ll take you back to the parking lot. Ash will take you home.”
Niall looks at Seth’s hand, then looks around for the first time. They’re standing on a rooftop, down the street from the club. Thankfully, they’re high up enough that most people won’t even notice them. He glances at Seth’s hand again, then at Rachel’s stern glare. Anger begins to flare up in him again.
“Just leave me the fuck alone.” He turns away and steps off of the roof himself. His landing is shaky, but he doesn’t care, walking silently out of the alley he’d dropped into and making his way back to the club. There’s another flash of light, but he knows that it went past him.
By the time he reaches the parking lot, Asher is already waiting by the car. His shirt is buttoned up again, his hair a mess that he isn’t bothering to fix…and even when he looks up, his eyes don’t quite meet Niall’s.
“Let’s go home, baby,” he mutters. Niall gets in the car without a word, which is the start of a long, silent drive back to the university.
Rachel is sitting at the edge of a rooftop at the university when Asher finally climbs out of the window, and she raises a hand when he notices her. Black fog gathers around him, and he ascends as if walking up a staircase, sitting beside her once he reaches the roof.
“How is he?” She asks quietly.
“Hasn’t said a word to me,” Ash replies. “He isn’t asleep, but when I said I had to start patrol, he didn’t react.”
“I’m such an idiot,” she sighs. “I shouldn’t have hit him. He wasn’t being fair to Seth, but I still should’ve…”
“It’s my fault, too.” Asher leans forward, clasping his hands together so tightly that they tremble. “He’d been so quiet all day, and I thought the party would make him feel better.” He lets out a mirthless laugh. “Or maybe I just thought he’d put up with it all night.”
“And I thought he’d just get over this.” Rachel takes a deep breath and wipes her eye. “I didn’t…I’ve just been ignoring it. I thought that he’d be okay.”
Neither of them says anything else until there’s a crackling in their earpieces.
“Are you guys okay?” Kate asks. “I think Keith and I can take over if–”
“We’ll be fine,” Asher says, standing up with a stretch. The change in his tone is so sudden that it’s clearly artificial, but Kate doesn’t challenge it.
“Alright. From what I can see, it’s mostly been a quiet night, but there’s been weird reports around the open market near main street.”
“The market?” Rachel repeats…then frowns. “Do you think it’s about…?”
“I’m not sure. The reports are always about people that show up there at night. The stories are all similar; they walked through the market, then report losing time and their memories of why. They all reported waking up with scratches or cuts that they didn’t have before, too.”
“Is there a consistent timeframe for this?” Asher asks.
“So far, the only consistency is that it happens after midnight.” There’s a beat of silence. “Apparently a few officers have tried to investigate, but they just ended up reporting the same things.”
“Of course.” Rachel rolls her eyes. “It’ll be midnight in a few minutes, so we’re headed that way.”
“Be careful.”
“Always.”
“I smell blood,” Asher says as they approach the market. “Fresh.” Rachel casts him a mildly disturbed glance, but doesn’t say anything as they leap across the last few rooftops until they’re above the market, at a good vantage point to avoid being seen.
All of the stalls are empty, the street abandoned…except for two people, smack dab in the center of the market. A civilian…and a figure wearing what looks like…
“Is that a magician?” He asks incredulously. Rachel begins to answer, but then they catch a silver gleam in the moonlight…a knife. The civilian doesn’t react as the figure lifts their arm and makes a quick, clean slice across their forearm.
“Come on.” Rachel leaps off of the roof, and Asher follows her.
Neither the civilian, a young man in jogging clothes, nor the oddly-dressed stranger react as they land nearby. The figure gently twists the jogger’s arm, and blood drips down to the ground. The moment it hits the concrete, it begins to glow.
“Okay, that’s enough.” Rachel flies forward, her heel igniting as she spins into a kick. The stranger smirks and gracefully dodges it, then grabs the jogger by the shoulders and moves him so that he’s between himself and Rachel. He pats the jogger’s cheek.
“Thank you for your kind donation. You can be on your way now, sir.” The jogger nods silently and begins to jog away without a word. The stranger then turns to them. “Well, I was wondering how long it would take for you to notice.”
There’s another word for his type of dress, but all Ash can think of is a stage magician; a black waistcoat over a violet vest with silver buttons, a white suit with a purple bow tie, black pants and knee-high boots…he’s even wearing white gloves and a black top hat. The only unusual thing is the ornate violet mask over his eyes, and the way that the top hat seems to cast a perpetual shadow over his face that obscures his features.
“Who are you?” Rachel asks. “And why are you doing this?”
“Now, what fun would it be if I told you that on our first meeting?” The stranger replies, a teasing lilt to his voice, as if he were playing some kind of game with a child. “As for my name, I have several, but you, my lovely young lady, can call me Puck, or perhaps Phouka, if you prefer. As for you…” He grins, nodding slowly at Asher, as if to emphasize that he’s eyeing him up. “Well, you can call me anything you like.” Asher narrows his eyes, summoning his macuahuitl to his hands.
“Maybe I’ll call you ‘in jail,” he replies. Phouka laughs and claps his gloved hands.
“Oh, a funny one! I like that in a man.” With a wave of his hand, a silver and black cane appears in Phouka’s left hand, and he leans against it. “As for why I’m doing this…your bigger concern should be that it’s already done.” He raises his cane and begins to bring it down to the small puddle of blood on the concrete, but by then Rachel is flying at him again, and he spins out of the way, catching his hat as it flies off and placing it back on his head in one smooth motion. “Oh, thank goodness. I was afraid you’d make it easy for–”
Clang!
Asher charged and swung mid-sentence, but his weapon stopped in place, blocked by Phouka’s cane.
“Nice try, handsome.” He kicks Asher backwards, then closes the distance, a manic grin on his face as his free hand grabs the silver knob at the top of the cane and pulls. There’s another silver gleam, and Asher leaps back, feeling the displaced air rush against his neck as the blade just barely misses his throat. Asher glances past him, where Rachel is getting ready to fly at him again. Phouka smirks and tosses the scabbard of the cane over his shoulder.
A long, fluffy tail sprouts from his back and wraps around the pointed scabbard, swiping at Rachel as she approaches. She rolls away in the air, and Ash begins to rush forward, but Phouka returns his attention to him, keeping the blade pointed at his neck.
“Got eyes on the back of my head, you see,” he says with a grin. “You can’t sneak up on me.”
“He’s rhyming now,” Rachel mutters incredulously. Without warning, she lobs a ball of fire forward. Phouka leaps to the side, but she’s already launching another one the other way, forcing him to stop for just a moment…
Asher dives forward, jamming his shoulder into Phouka’s stomach. With a yell, he lifts the villain up on his shoulder, then slams him back to the ground. Phouka gasps for air, stunned, and Asher turns him over onto his stomach, pinning him down.
“Where’s that smile now?” He asks. Phouka glares up at him…but then he grins, and that’s all the warning Asher gets. The ground feels as though it’s falling out from under him, and then he’s up in the air…or, rather, sitting on the back of a tall, black horse. He barely has time to process this (he’s pretty sure he heard an exasperated “oh, what the fuck” from Rachel) before the horse neighs and begins bucking wildly, smashing into stalls and going around in circles. Asher’s body is jolted and jostled, and he’s pretty sure he’s going to throw up once this is over, but he grabs onto the horse’s mane as tightly as he can and leans downward, almost lying on its back.
“Having fun?” Phouka asks…with the mouth of the horse, somehow. “I sure am!” Then, with one last, violent buck, Asher is thrown off.
He flies through the air, his stomach lurching as he flips…and then he collides with Rachel, who grunts as she catches him. They tumble along the concrete, but Asher flips back onto his feet, and Rachel dismounts up into the air again.
Phouka’s a human again now, and with a wink, he taps his cane onto the puddle of blood again. The blood vanishes…no, it’s like the concrete absorbed it.
Then, something shifts. Asher feels his hairs standing on end, and if he were in his wolf form, he’s sure his hackles would be raised. It’s heavy, oppressive…dangerous. Rachel raises her hands, flames coating them as a glowing red sigil appears on the ground beneath Phouka…then, with a triumphant laugh, he raises his boot and stomps on it.
There’s a sound like glass shattering, and the sigil cracks apart, then vanishes entirely.
“What the Hell did you do?” Rachel demands.
“He summoned me,” a deep voice replies. Next to Phouka, a man materializes, his form emaciated under loose, tattered chainmail armor. The horse that appears next to him, though, is tall and strong, with a white coat that seems to glow under the moonlight.
“Who are you?” Asher asks as he mounts the horse with ease despite his sickly appearance.
“I trust you know where to find the others?” he asks Phouka, ignoring Asher and Rachel.
“Of course I do.” He gives the man a slight tilt of his top hat. “Enjoy the freedom until then.” The man finally faces Asher and Rachel again…and raises his arms. In them, an ivory bow appears. At the same time, an ornate silver crown appears on his head, fitting it perfectly.
He fires two arrows at once. They both roll to the side, dodging them, but in that instance…Phouka and the man have disappeared.
“Finally!” Kate’s voice crackles in their ears. “I haven’t been able to get a signal since you guys got there! What’s going on?” Asher looks at Rachel, but she seems just as clueless…and just as wary.
“We’ll fill you in when we get back,” he says. “We need to have a team meeting. As soon as possible.”
As Asher and Rachel leave the scene, a pair of shiny yellow eyes watches them from underneath an intact stall. Once they’ve completely vanished, it emerges from the shadows; a large snake with lustrous green scales that gleam in the moonlight. It coils up, then begins to shift and contort, growing taller, bipedal, scales morphing to flesh…
Isaac stretches for a moment, then crosses his arms with a sigh.
“I know you’re still here, Puck.”
“Aw, I was hoping I might give you a bit of a scare.” A black cat emerges from the shadows as well, weaving between his legs with an affectionate purr before shifting back to human form…albeit, still with a cat’s tail. “Thank you again for the help! I couldn’t have gotten these people to stay still, otherwise.”
“Right.” Isaac holds his hand out expectantly. Phouka’s grin fades, and with an exaggerated sigh, he retrieves a black cloth bag from the pocket of his waistcoat and hands it over. “You know how it works, just wait until sunrise.”
“Yep.” Isaac hefts the bag in his hand, then narrows his eyes at Phouka. “So, feel like explaining what the fuck these ‘seals’ are all about? Or what you’re releasing from them?”
“You’re no more fun than they are,” the other man sighs. “Why would I spoil the surprise?”
“So I know whether or not to cut your throat out right here,” Isaac replies. He and Phouka stare each other down for a few seconds. Then, the latter scoffs.
“How about you worry less about the business I’m paying you to help with, and more about how you’ll explain to your little boy toy that you’ve been back in the city for nearly a week now?” Phouka sidesteps just in time for Isaac’s sickle to miss his neck. “Oh, did I hit a nerve?”
“Get the fuck out of my face,” Isaac growls, eyes flashing yellow. “And don’t ever call him that again.”
“Fine.” Phouka turns around and begins to walk down the street, twirling his cane idly. “I’ll contact you when I need help with the next seal.”
“What makes you think I’ll–” but before he can finish, Phouka shifts into a cat again and bounds away. Isaac sighs and looks down at the bag in his hand again. “Asshole…”