Chapter Text
A distant hum of a flickering streetlight fills the air accompanied by sounds of a pair of steel toe boots smacking against concrete.
The person the boots belong to takes a deep breath. The muggy air accumulating in their nose and settling the moist smell somewhere in the back of their throat. Despite the damp atmosphere their heart was beating at a lax pace. A light drizzle from the stormy clouds above setting the mood for their late night walk.
There is a slight wobble in their steps that would go unnoticed to the untrained eye. The lack of coordination is paired with a distinct smell of booze.
A sudden string of unmistakable British expletives can be heard seconds before sounds of light drizzles of rain hitting the ground turns into an aggressive downpour. Jewelry can now be heard smacking against leather and denim as the person's pace quickens.
Dodging giant puddles that could masquerade as mini swimming pools from the rain fall from earlier in the day, making it down the street and around the corner before spotting the block of flats they were looking for. Their light jog, basically turning into marathon sprinting now.
They grip their keychain in their pocket holding it in a tight grip. One to check to make sure the item is actually there and two because they don't trust the reliability of their fingers in this inebriated state. They soon reach their destination ascending the concrete stairs, hand with the key outstretched. More muttered curses fall from their lips as they fumble with the shitty lock.
Charlie sighs when they finally manage to unlock the door opens. The wet rain smell being replaced with the moth eaten one of the old building. The aged floors creak as they practically drag their drunken weight along it.
They thank their past self for getting a flat on the first floor so they don't have to try to stumble their way up a flight of stairs. While also cursing their present self for not having an umbrella on hand despite almost 10 years of settling down in this country that's cloudy, rainy and shitty 70% of the time.
Charlie clomps along the floor to get to their own door too drunk and not caring if they disrupt their neighbors sleep. They were surrounded by mostly old gits who were miserable and didn't even bother to hide their already thinly veiled racism or keep their judgmental eyes to themselves every time Charlie brought around a different partner to warm their bed for that night. There were also the neighbors on the younger side who had early morning shifts so Charlie and their paths never crossed. Wasn't like they were much better, they pretend to be so progressive but won't fight for any people if it doesn't affect their privileges.
Having the key slide into the lock on their door so easily was the break the punk needed on that night. Even the door Charlie had to lift up and use all their strength to open didn't give much trouble.
"Miss me gorgeous?" They ask the empty apartment. Definitely too loud for how late it was.
The cold empty room is all the answer Charlie gets back in return.
As they wipe their shoes on the mat then take them off they debate whether or not to take off their coat too. The shitty heating system the landlord can't be arsed to fix leaving the whole place just as cold as the outdoors was. In the end they decided it's better to get out of the wet leather, throwing the jacket haphazardly in the general direction of the couch.
They take a moment to examine the place they call home. It wasn't much to look at honestly but it's theirs. The small width of the connecting sitting room and kitchen. The collection of records Charlie has managed to get their hands on sitting under its own little shelf, with the few they've gotten signed sitting on display next to the player. Polaroids of Charlie and the smell sprinkled around the place in picture frames. Posters from their own band and also bands they loved on the walls, most of them in their bedroom. It looks lived in.
Deep hunger gnaws low in Charlie's belly, begging for their attention. The walk to their fridge is an anticlimactic one considering they knew there was barely anything in there.
Opening the appliance they see the lone beer resting in it next to a half stick of butter like their two mates chatting at a pub. They pull the items out and set them on the counter. Going back to the fridge and reaching for the top door this time and opens the freezer and pulls out the only item in it, frozen waffles. Putting the food next to the beer and stick of butter they stand back for a second to look at everything. Now one definitely could say this isn't a meal a responsible adult living into today's modern age should be eating for nutrients. And they'd be right.
But have these made up people in this made up scenario ever considered Charlie isn't a responsible adult quite yet, despite living longer than any of them?
Charlie sighs and opens the waffles, placing two of them into the toaster, turning the knob to the right time and pushing them down. Then opening a drawer locating a knife and rinsing it off. They use the knife to pop the cap off the beer then place it down next to the untouched butter. Leaning back against the counter staring at the warming toaster, waiting, thinking.
They just hope the waffles cook right this time but considering their luck this day with the rain they doubt it. Also the fact they got it second hand from a witch they had a fling with, they double doubted it.
The magic user claimed there had been no hard feelings between them when Charlie broke it off. But they aren't so sure that they believe that, they definitely think she put a hex on the damn thing.
As if sensing them talking about it the toaster dings, signaling it's done. That definitely wasn't the four minutes that Charlie had put the timer on. Placing the beer down, after taking a sip they pick up one of the waffles. They're definitely soggy and barely cooked but they know if they place them back in for even only a minute they'll come out burnt somehow.
Deciding to accept their soggy waffle fate they grab a plate out of a cabinet and quickly clean it off before placing the waffles on it and starting to butter them up. After burning the tips of their fingertips slightly from flipping the food items they realize they finally have a meal. An undercooked and syrup-less meal but a meal nonetheless.
Grabbing their beer and plate and heading over to the living room. Grunting as they place the plate down on the coffee table to switch on the television. Flickering through the 5 shows unfortunate enough to be put in this dead slot of cable play. Realizing nothing good was on they released the knob and left it on its current channel.
Heading over to the couch and grabbing their plate they try not to jump out of their skin when it presses against the cold leather of the second hand furniture. The surface of the couch is achingly cold as they sink against it, throwing their feet up on the table in front of them.
Charlie groans realizing they left it on some news channel and right now it was two Tory bastards basically creaming their pants on who can compliment Thatcher the most. They spent their time split between taking bites of the waffles and yelling and cursing at the telly screen.
By the time Charlie takes the last bite their beer is empty and throat slightly sore. Probably coming to a head now after spending all night shouting, singing and drinking (not necessarily in that order).
Letting their socked feet drag across the wooden floor to place the dishes in the sink to let them soak and throw the beer in the rubbish bin. Then back to switch off the tv and heading for the door leading to their bedroom.
Dodging scattered clothes and what appears to be their own guitar in the dark like it was a superpower. They make it to the bathroom and hit the switch, basking the tiled room with some light.
Charlie enters the space, the beer and disgusting waffles settling low in their stomach. Going to their shower and hitting the hot water to give the shitty water heater time to warm it up. Locating their shower cap, new wash rag and towel and placing it on the closed toilet for later.
Their tongue runs over the grime from today's bad habits and they go to locate their toothbrush. Placing the toothpaste on the brush feels almost calming as it's so routine. But at the same time it's too mundane, it makes them feel too human. Reminds them that they are human now.
As the bristles glides across their tongue they can't help but get lost in the dizzying experience that's looking at themselves in the mirror.
The creases in their face now deeper and more pronounced with age. The tattoos paint almost half their skin in colorful ink. And they're not sure if it's just the light and alcohol playing tricks on them but they swear they see grey hair. What they are sure of is that humans live such long yet short lives. Almost ten years in this body and already it's showing signs of aging.
They wonder what will happen when they die. Not in the human sense of a greater purpose. They know gods are real, met and shagged the lot of them, been one. From that they also know gods don't have souls, they're not supposed to die. There's no heaven, hell or purgatory for them. They're simply wiped out of existence, like most of the Greek ones were when abrahamic religions got more popular.
Shaking themselves out of their existential crisis they finish brushing their teeth and rinses and spits into the sink.
Checking the shower water to make sure it's warm and confirming it is after cutting on some cold they start undressing. Stepping in and letting the water wash away today's sinful habits. They can feel the extra beer they drank settling comfortably in their stomach, begging it to lul them to sleep. After a quick wash up they step back into the muggy air of the bathroom while they dry off.
During they realize they forgot their towel and make a freezing cold beeline for their dresser. Bouncing between two feet as they find pjs to wear. They definitely don't match but they're warm so Charlie throws them on.
Settling into bed with their head scarf on they can't help but feel a sense of emptiness as they drift off to sleep. Something in the back of their mind questions
"What are the legends up to?" As the same voice pulls them into unconsciousness.
-
An aroma of freshly made tea wafts through the air entering the nostrils of its maker. A slender wrist reaches and gently shakes a pack of energizing dragon ash into the cup. Brown eyes watch as the ashes dissolve while stirring with cat-like attention. Manicured fingers pick up the cup with deftness and brings it to waiting maroon lipstick covered lips.
Zari sighs as the smooth warm liquid slides down her throat and settles the morning fog that was clouding her mind. The easing tension in her jaw that she knows will come back soon feels like relief. Her morning and nightly tea time is the only moments of calm she's had in her hectic life for a while.
Heeled feet clack against the hardwood floor as she makes her way through her penthouse to her office doors. The vast kitchen connects to an even bigger living room with stairs leading up to different rooms and an elevator leading the outside world. She barely went out nowadays but getting dressed up helped her get out of that sleepy funk. Her office is on the same level tucked past a doorway off the kitchen with a few other rooms next to it.
Humming as she booted up her laptop and waited for it to come on. She knows not to get her hope up for any work related miracles to happen. She had been back almost 6 months now and every resource she's reached out to has rejected an offer to work with her. After her perfume brand debacle and her disappearing act for years at a time companies were hesitant to work with her. And judging from the emails she just opened on the computer it seems the brands she reached out to recently feel the same. The next 5 hours are filled with copy and pasting "Thanks for your consideration" and "I know we haven't spoken in a while but I think I have an idea that can benefit both of us" Emails. It's almost comical how close she is to almost contacting the remainder of all her previous contacts.
By the time she's done sending and replying to everything it's time for the mandatory lunch time she's set for herself. Well that Les-lay did, it definitely helps workflow if you don't pass out from starvation and dehydration. The woman would've had a sandwich or even a green smoothie prepared and waiting for her already. It was moments like this that made her almost semi regret firing the woman when she had come back this time.
She recalls the woman's face frozen for half a minute in utter shock before it morphed into fury. The force in which she handed her empty schedules and company phone. The heated words as she threw the fact that she slept with her ex in her face. Promises of going to the press with a smear campaign. Nothing came of the last promise yet but honestly at this point maybe such an event would actually help her popularity at this point.
Sitting down to eat a Turkey sandwich is weird. Maybe for the simple fact that after 39 years of mistreatment her stomach still can't get used to her actually feeding it. By the time she's taken to properly eat and digest her food it's time for yoga.
It doesn't take long to change into the workout clothes she laid out earlier for herself on the foot rest at the end of her bed. By the time She's wiped off her makeup and changed into her new clothes she hears the ding of the elevator to her apartment.
When she makes it to her living room Behrad is already there. Searching for her until he spots her and one of his gigantic boyish smiles takes over his face.
"Hey!" His deep voice greets her before slender arms wrap around her.
The woman lets herself relax into her brother's embrace for a few seconds, trying to squeeze back with the same amount of enthusiasm and pressure before pulling back.
He's in one of his workout outfits with his workout bag on one arm and his yoga mat tucked under the other.
"Here, let me fill that up." Zari says as she takes the empty water bottle hanging out the side of the bag. "Go ahead and set everything up."
By the time there's ice and water in both of their bottles and she makes it to her home gym, Behrad has already set everything up. Both of their mats laid out parallel to each other with candles lit and spread out and ambient music playing In the background. She places down their water bottles and stands on her mat.
“Ready for an ultimate relaxation sesh?”
Behrad asks, raising an eyebrow.
When she nods in confirmation he relaxes his posture and starts his guiding speech.
Letting his calm voice watch over her, she can feel her body and mind relax as she starts following the yoga movements.
-
Zari watches as large hands slide food from the pan onto plates with utensils and practiced ease. Behrad slides the plate of Gheymeh Bademjan towards her. The aroma from her favorite food enters her nose and she sighs in contentment.
"Have I ever told you you're my favorite brother?" Zari jokes as she pulls the plate full of food towards her.
"Hmm, don't let your other nonexistent brothers hear that." Behrad responds and pulls his own plate of steaming food closer. Settling in front of the island, across from her.
Zari lets a lazy smile fall onto her lips as she digs in.
She wonders if it looks funny from an outsider's perspective. With Behrad's lanky body hunched over the kitchen island, legs barely fitting under it.
It's moments like this that she wonders if them getting along like this could've always been this easy. But then she remembers it took decades of them ignoring each other and feelings for it finally to bubble over in a screaming match the year before they could ever get to this point.
But they're better now…well they're trying.
Zari clears her throat and banishes those thoughts from her head.
"How's the song writing going?" She asks, guiding a bite of food into her mouth.
"It's ya know, going." The man hesitates before she gives him a look that she used to do when he was a kid and could tell he wasn't telling the truth. "Not well, it's not going well."
Zari sees the dejected look on the man's face. She remembers when he decided to give up being a legend after so long and start his music journey. He barely started on the music part and hasn't even started writing it. She would ask to help but considering no one is answering her emails she doesn't think she has the connections anymore to do it and she doesn't think he'd take the offer anyway. Considering he wants to get from under her shadow. There's still a deep simmer of an ache at the thought but she understands.
“I'm sorry, I hope it starts getting better.” Zari replies. Trying to force an encouraging smile but only ends up with an awkward twitch of her lips.
“Thanks. I hope so too.” The man replies.
There's a minor lull in convo as Behrad stops to take another bite of his food before continuing
“So, how's the whole looking for investment partners thing going?”
“It's you know,...going.” The woman replies repeating his words back to him.
“So still nothing then?”
Zari looks up at her brother and notices not the expecting pity on his face but sympathy. Her shoulders sag before she speaks again.
“They just don't want to invest their money in someone who was canceled and who disappears often” Zari explains, adding bunny ears around “disappears often” to show her disgruntlement at the statement. ”I mean they won't say it but that's what it is.”
She watches as he places his utensils down giving her his full attention before he speaks.
“Have you ever considered that you need a break?”
“You mean like the 3 year break I just took and is part of the reason I'm in this situation now?” Zari responds, letting her fork drop back into the bowl.
Behrad holds his hands up in a gesture close to surrender.
“I'm just saying that maybe since doing this hasn't been working, maybe you just need some time away to figure out another way to solve this.”
Zari tries to not let her features morph into a displeased face at this fact that he MAY BE right but she can tell from the almost smug look on his face that she fails.
“I'm just saying, at least think about it.”
Behrad finishes and picks up his fork and continues eating his lunch and Zari follows.
They finish eating and soon after she says goodbye to him and finishes the rest of her agenda for today.
By the time night sky leaks in through her skylight windows Zari has finished her nightly wash and skin care routine. Tucking herself under her high poly count sheets. The vast apartment now filled with her white noise machine.
The drawer in her nightstand to her right seems to call to her. She already knows what's in there, the key to the hell mansion John gave to her and the time courier she took with her when she left the waverider.
She pulls her sleep mask down over her eyes trying to block out deep thoughts and let sleepy ones seep instead. But as she slowly goes to sleep, the items in the drawer still weigh heavy on her mind.
Asking the begging question of “should she?”