Archive of Our Own

Charlie
Charlie Spring sat in the Forum room in the Lange Building, listening to Professor Singh lecture about the difference between language and communication, specifically on the way thoughts and feelings affect how humans engage each other. Well, he wasn’t listening as much as watching her teacher’s assistant, Nick Nelson, role play the scenarios she was describing. It made the subject matter slightly more interesting since psychology wasn’t his focus.

They had only talked in passing a few times, exchanged stray “hi’s” when they bumped into each other. Nick was always kind and sweet, attentive in a way that made Charlie’s stomach flutter, and made him wonder if Nick liked him. It had been enough to stoke Charlie’s fantasies, and he often daydreamed about kissing Nick or had conversations with himself about Nick as he patrolled, equally planning something witty he wanted to say while simultaneously trying to convince himself Nick was the straightest boy he knew.

He didn’t need the hassle and distraction of a boyfriend anyway. He’d had enough crushes on straight boys to see where this was going. And if Nick were queer, Charlie had too much experience with semi-closeted knobs like Ben — the upper-classman who had hit on Charlie during his fresher week, came on strong, and then ghosted Charlie after they slept together. Nope, he wouldn’t let himself like Nick like that. He had studying and slaying to do, even if he really wanted to study Nick so he could find a way to slay.

“A demonstration. Nick’s going to communicate the emotion listed on this slip of paper,” Professor Singh shared, refocusing Charlie as she waved a thin strip in front of the class. She handed it to Nick who read it and turned pink. Charlie leaned forward, curious about what had made this usually calm and unassuming man blush so heavily.

“Do I have to?” he asked, his pink face growing darker. Professor Singh looked at him seriously. Nick lowered his voice. “I mean, I don’t want to do anything unethical.”

Charlie’s eyebrows raised, and his eyes darted between the two people in front of the class. What on earth could Professor Singh be asking him to do?

“We’ll ask for a volunteer. That way it’ll be consensual,” she explained, looking around the class as several young women, a few androgynous students, and one man raised their hands. Charlie looked at Isaac sitting next to him, hands firmly in his lap. They caught each other’s eyes, and Charlie widened them, trying to ask what he missed without being too obvious. Isaac smirked and nodded towards the front. Not that that was helpful.

“Charlie Spring,” Professor Singh said joyfully, “Thank you for volunteering.”

I what? I didn’t– Charlie looked and saw his arm straining above his head. He glanced at Nick who stood, mouth open and beet red, and felt his own blush blooming. He lowered his hand and fumbled with his chair-desk, moving his notebook into his backpack and awkwardly climbing over the people in his row as he made his way to the front.

“Lay down, and we’ll begin,” Professor Singh instructed. Charlie looked cautiously at Nick who gestured towards an empty table. Charlie wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do, so Nick repeated his gesture but drew his open hand from the bottom to the top of the table. “Nick, if you would oblige?”

“A demonstration?” Nick asked, moving towards where Charlie’s head would be, and Charlie watched him closely as he positioned himself. Nick stood to his side, looking down at Charlie and smiling awkwardly.

“Be a good boy,” Professor Singh directed Nick calmly.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do,” Charlie whispered to the looming face above him. His stomach twitched and pinched as he felt the heft and closing space created by Nick’s canopy.

“Do you trust me?” Nick asked, and Charlie nodded despite his nerves. He had no real reason to trust Nick. They barely knew each other, but he instinctively understood he was safe, and he felt his stomach calming itself.

“Remember, the goal is to communicate without words,” Professor Singh intoned, but her voice felt miles away. As he lay on the table with Nick above him, he forgot about the room filled with people; there was only the two of them

“Would you kiss me?” he wanted to ask, but instead, he locked eyes with Nick and watched him lick his lips. He nodded to the unspoken question and lowered his face. Charlie opened his mouth and let out a quiet gasp. All that mattered was Nick’s strong arms under his shoulders holding him up and his nearness. They began kissing, the rest of the hall fading away as their kisses became more intense. Charlie was about to explore the sweet, fruity flavour of Nick’s mouth when he heard the unusual sound of a child’s voice singing a nursery rhyme. It distracted him and pulled him away. He broke the kiss and looked around. The hall was dark, empty, and everything echoed.

“Do you hear that?” Charlie asked, sliding off the table and stepping away from Nick, following the sing-songy voice, creepy as it was.

“Can’t even shout, can’t even cry. The gentlemen are coming by,” the voice sang. Charlie felt the hairs on his hackle rise and a chill seep through him. As he turned the corner of the dark, hardwood-lined corridor, he saw the source of the voice, a pale, young girl in a plain dress. Her flaxen hair flowed down her back, and she was otherwise unremarkable but for an intricate box in her hand. The cube was inlaid with a specific pattern, ornate detailing on every side. Charlie stared at the box for a moment before listening intensely to the girl.

“Looking in windows, knocking on doors, they need to take seven and they might take yours. Can’t call to mum. Can’t say a word. You’re going to die a-screaming, but you won’t be heard.” Charlie was about to call to the girl as she finished singing, her words lingering in Charlie’s head, but he felt a firm hand on his shoulder. He assumed it was Nick coming from behind, and he turned to ask his opinion. Instead of the warm brown eyes, kind smile, and affable presence he’d expected, he was instead assaulted by cruel black eyes and a grotesque smile stretched across a desiccated face. Charlie gasped and recoiled, jarring himself awake against Isaac’s shoulder where they sat in the Forum. He let out a loud “eep.”

“Smooth, Charlie,” Isaac snorted as he finished taking notes from Professor Singh’s slidedeck.

“What did I miss?” Charlie yawned, his body tensing as he tried to stifle the full-body stretch he wanted to do.

“Professor Singh started with the etymology of the word communication and its roots in the Latin phrase communicatio which means ‘to share or impart’ yet truly has its roots in communis or ‘common’ and ‘public,’” Isaac replied, paging through his notebook. “Just everything we need to know for the final. I’d hate to miss that.”

“Can you give me the short version? Maybe the blurb? Using words I know?” Charlie huffed. He knew all the words Isaac was saying, but there had to be a more concise way to tell him what he missed. Isaac rolled his eyes and started packing his bag.

“I’ll share my notes with you. How about that? Maybe it’ll make more sense when Nick isn’t around,” Isaac replied good-naturedly. His eyes drifted to Charlie’s notebook, and Charlie followed his gaze to a doodle of Nick in his rugby gear, yet the clothes were too short and too tight, accentuating Nick’s thick thighs and bum. Isaac giggled and Charlie blushed, slamming his notebook closed and throwing it in his shoulder bag.

“Oh my god, I have it bad,” Charlie whined, grabbing Isaac’s arm and burying his face in it.

“A little. You could just talk to him, say something more than hi or hello,” Isaac suggested. “He might like the direct approach.”

“He’s the straightest boy in the world,” Charlie huffed, his words muffled in Isaac’s jumper.

“I don’t think he’s that straight,” Isaac said, standing and pulling Charlie with him. “Come on, class is over.”

Charlie avoided Professor Singh’s gaze as they exited and tried to ignore Nick watching him.

“So were you dreaming?” Isaac asked.

“Yeah, and it was kind of intense,” Charlie started to explain before Nick appeared behind them.

“Intense? Because you seemed so peaceful,” he chortled. “Was your nap good?”

“Nap? I wasn’t napping,” Charlie lied. “It was just a quick beauty rest.”

“Oh, so the snore was intentional?” Nick laughed. “A mating call of some sort?”

Charlie felt his ears burn and wanted to crawl into the rubbish bin they just passed and hide. He let out another “eep” and looked at Isaac. “Oh, god, was it that bad?”

“Very discreet. Minimal drool,” Isaac shared.

“Yay,” Charlie sighed weakly.

“It was cute,” Nick said, blushing as well. Isaac laughed and Charlie bugged his eyes out at him. “So are you going to go to the student union?”

“Well, erm, I’m going to go to that Ace Space meeting with the stuff,” Isaac drawled, smirking and falling back.

“Don’t forget the things,” Nick replied, waving as he fell in line next to Charlie. They walked quietly for a moment, eyes forward, and Charlie could feel Isaac watching them from behind a column. Nick opened his mouth to talk, stopped, closed his mouth, opened it again, and finally sputtered, “So tell me about your dream. As a psych major, I’m qualified to listen and then go ‘hmm.’”

“I don’t really remember it,” Charlie said, pretending he couldn’t taste Nick’s lips still.

“Was I in it?” Nick asked shyly, and Charlie felt his heart pounding in his chest. He didn’t want to admit to Nick that he had been a regular feature in his daydreams, his nightly dreams, or his sexy dreams. Not yet, at least. He shook his head and deflected.

“Just Isaac. Yeah, just me and him,” Charlie lied. He could see Nick’s smile waver for a moment.

“So you and Isaac, are you…?”

“Yeah, he’s my roommate,” Charlie answered.

“Oh, that’s, erm, that’s good. How long have you two…?”

“We’ve known each other since secondary,” Charlie continued. “He’s, like, my favorite person. I love him so much.”

He could feel Nick nodding next to him. Neither said anything for a moment. As they exited the Lange, Nick continued, “Isaac said he was going to Ace Space. How does that work for you two?”

Charlie’s face bunched as he processed the question. He understood all the words, but he couldn’t figure out what Nick was actually saying.

“Well, he’s been exploring that for a few years now,” Charlie explained. “I support him, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“But does it get awkward, being… roommates and all?” Nick asked. Charlie stopped walking and turned to face Nick. Nick was pink, a sheen of sweat clinging to his face. He licked his lips and looked around nervously before holding the straps of his backpack. Charlie studied him, wondering what was going through Nick’s head.

“No?” Charlie finally responded. “We have an understanding.” Charlie watched Nick’s eyes grow wide. It’d be adorable if Charlie weren’t confused by all of it. Before Nick could ask another question, Charlie added, “I don’t bring people back without telling him, and if he wants to, he can, too, but he hasn’t.”

“Oh, so you’re in an open relationship?” Nick asked. Charlie watched his brow furrow and parsed through their conversation from the moment Nick joined Isaac and him until now. Pieces started falling into place. He started to laugh but caught himself, not wanting to offend Nick.

“Do you think we’re–? No, Isaac and I are simply friends,” Charlie said, smiling and relaxing. It wasn’t the first time people assumed they were a couple. He couldn’t wait to tell Isaac about it when they saw each other later.

Nick exhaled, letting go over his backpack straps and reaching forward. His large hands landed on Charlie’s biceps. Charlie instinctively flexed as he felt Nick gently squeeze him. It made his stomach squishy with excitement but also put him on alert for a potential attack. He wasn’t used to anyone, no matter how hot, grabbing him without starting something Charlie would have to finish. He looked down at Nick’s hands on his arms, though, and enjoyed the firm pressure. He started lifting his chin to Nick and pursing his lips.

“Sorry, it’s just, I thought… and you said…” Nick blathered, quickly dropping his arms. Charlie smiled.

“Did you?” Charlie wondered aloud as Nick hemmed and hawed.

“I did, and, oh, look at the time. I need to get to my next class. Ugh, maths.”

“I could help you,” Charlie offered. “I’m quite good at maths.”

“Then I’ll never learn it for myself,” Nick replied, sounding calmer. Charlie ducked a hand behind Nick to reach for his backpack, and Nick swiveled, batting Charlie’s hand away. He laughed. “No! Stop!”

They tussled a little, and both their bags fell. Fancy pens slipped out of Nick’s backpack, and three sticks fell out of Charlie’s shoulder bag. Nick knelt and picked up everything. He held up the three sticks, recognising two of them as drumsticks. The other was thicker overall before tapering to a point.

“You play the drums?” Charlie nodded. “That’s so cool. And this?”

Charlie blushed as Nick held up Mr Pointy, his favourite stake. How do I explain this without telling him I’m the Slayer?

“Um, it’s a special toy,” Charlie said, wincing as it came out. He bit his lip. So not better. Try again. “I like working with wood.”

That was even worse. Charlie wished the Hellmouth beneath the city would simply swallow him up. Nick nodded quietly and handed the sticks to Charlie. As he did, one of his pens marked Charlie’s hand. Charlie seized the opportunity to break the awkward silence between them. He drew his hand back dramatically and teasingly smiled to make sure Nick knew he wasn’t angry. “How dare you?”

Nick looked at Charlie’s hand and the mark he’d made. He pulled Charlie’s hand closer, holding it steady as he drew more, revealing a phone number when he finally released Charlie’s hand.. He looked up at Nick who blushed deep crimson and said, “I honestly have to get to maths, but there’s my number. If you want to call me. Like ever. Um, bye.”

Charlie watched Nick wave meekly, turn away, and jog down the mall before disappearing into a building Charlie didn’t immediately recognise. I can check it out later when I patrol, he thought to himself before remembering the dream with the little girl and song and the striking, cadaverous man. The song lingered in his head. “The Gentlemen”? He was sure he spoke for everyone when he said, “Huh?”

What did any of this mean? he wondered. It wasn’t the first time he’d had prophetic dreams. He’d had them since he was a child. He was the Slayer, after all. The “chosen one,” even though he still didn’t believe it. Nor had his Watcher, Nathan Ajayi, who seemed surprised to find the small and weak young man when Charlie’s call came. They rolled with the realisation, bonded over their shared love of the humanities, and began training.

It was only after they had grown closer that Charlie shared more of his life’s journey, revealing he was assigned female at birth but had transitioned as a pre-teen. Nathan had nodded respectfully as Charlie confided this and said he was honored to be not just a Watcher but also a safe space for Charlie. In many ways, Nathan was almost his parent as he spent more time with and got more support from him than his actual parents.

In the ensuing several years they were together, Charlie grew stronger and faster, his body changing to better represent how he felt. It didn’t hurt that he was now able to run, flip, and hit like an action hero while he took down vampires, demons, the stray hyena people, and Headmaster Snyder. Through it all, Nathan provided gentle wisdom and guidance, and that’s precisely what Charlie needed now.

He took out his phone and messaged Nathan, glad that he also preferred texting to calling. Nathan responded, saying he hadn’t heard of the rhyme, but he agreed it could be a prophetic dream and agreed to look into it. Reassured, Charlie made his way to his next class.

Nick
“I can’t believe you haven’t made a move yet,” Sai chastised Nick as they walked through the underground warehouse beneath the rugby pitch. While Nick truly played rugby, he and the rest of the team were also operatives for Professor Singh’s Creatures of Darkness Initiative. The passed stark white containment cells containing a humanoid fish person and a mantis woman they’d captured on their away trips as a rugby team. Once here, Professor Singh and her colleagues would run tests on how to neutralize the danger the Hellmouth provided.

“It’s never bothered me so much before that we can’t get involved with civilians,” Nick complained.

“This is our burden, innit? We have a job that would make any girl living think we are the coolest of the cool, but we can’t use it to our advantage,” Sai sympathised. “Thank god we’re pretty.”

“Yeah, but it’s just... Charlie’s special,” Nick whinged.

“Charlie’s special? Wow, I wasn’t sure the 468 other times you mentioned that,” Otis joked as he and Christian joined them from their sparring practice. “But now we see you think she’s special.”

Nick winced at the feminine pronoun. Along with Sai, Nick worked closely with Christian and Otis. They all knew he was crushing hard on a freshman and tried to help Nick find the courage to ask this “Charlie” out. Ironically, Nick was keeping a few secrets of his own from his fellow secret soldiers, namely that he was bisexual and that the object of his affections was a man. - He’d thought it would have been clear with the name Charlie, but they’d just assumed he was a she, and Nick hadn’t worked up the courage to correct them yet, even though each time they unknowingly misgendered Charlie it felt like a cut from a sharp blade.

“You should really just talk to her. It’ll be less painful,” Christian said, but Nick couldn’t. Unlike Christian, he didn’t have the gift of gab.

“See? You’re naturally inclined to talk too much. I don’t have that,” Nick said, wiping his practice sweat off with a towel and walking past the lads to the lift.

“Then get with the kissing,” Otis said as they joined Nick. Nick snorted and shook his head. Easier said than done.

Charlie
“So not the deep dive into identity you were hoping for?” Charlie asked Isaac as they walked through this residence hall towards their room.

“No, it was all complaining about feeling excluded from the LGBTQ events, and that’s valid, but I was hoping we’d get into something real like examining the wide spectrum of asexuality,” Isaac complained. “No one else had even read the book we were supposed to be talking about. Nowadays, anyone who’s questioning just slaps a label on themselves and thinks they’re the expert on aceness.”

“I’m sorry it was a bust. I know you’re looking to go deeper in that department,” Charlie said, opening the door.

“I just want to go broader than ‘I’m ace’ someday and really begin to understand what I feel,” Isaac huffed, his voice tinged with discouragement. Suddenly, he turned towards Charlie. “Hey, how’d it go with Nick? You two seemed awfully snuggly after class.”

“See above, all talk. Just talk,” Charlie groused. “I don’t think he’s gay.”

“Well, I need my vicarious smoochies. Get with the smoochies,” Isaac said as he turned on the electric kettle. “I wanna believe in romance.”

“I don’t know. I get nervous, and I start babbling, and he starts babbling, and it’s an anxiety-fest. Plus, I constantly have to lie. The Slayer thing almost came up today, and I wish I could just come clean,”

Isaac nodded in sympathy as Charlie’s phone pinged with a message from Nathan. “What does Nathan have to say?” he asked, seeing the name on his screen.

“He’s looking into the dream, but he has a ‘special friend’ coming into town, so it might be a day or two,” Charlie said, paraphrasing the message as a smile grew on his face. “Good for him.”

“Getting his smoochies,” Isaac said as he grinned over the lip of his cup.

Nathan
“They need to take seven… seven what?” Nathan asked aloud. He’d been researching as promised, but he wasn’t finding anything. It was hardly a question for the ages, but he wanted to make sure he came through for his Slayer. A knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts, and he hurried to his front door, opening it and seeing a tall, bearded man smiling across the threshold. “Youssef.”

“Sorry I’m so late. The flight was a horror,” he said dryly.

“Oh, no. Bad weather?” Nathan asked, taking his coat.

“Rugby movie.”

“I’m so sorry,” Nathan laughed.

“Yeah, that’s enough small talk, don’t you think?” Youssef replied, leaning in as Nathan removed his glasses and kissed him. The two men remained engrossed in each other’s attention, completely unaware that in the clock tower the Gentlemen had arrived and were setting out their box.

As the town slept, they opened it, and the voices of the sleeping townspeople quietly slipped away, carried on the wind to the open box where one Gentleman — the same tall, decaying man with the grotesque, toothy grin — stood gleefully stealing their ability to speak.

Charlie
The next morning, Charlie woke, grabbed his toilette kit, and walked to the bathroom. He patted his hair which was a tangled mess of dark curls, and he inspected his newly grown facial hair in the mirror. The T had definitely been working, and he was happy to finally have a decent goatee growing. He looked at the rest of his reflection, lifting his arms and seeing the scars both from his top surgery and his battle wounds. He could hide them with long sleeves and jumpers as he used to, but now, they were signs of power and pride.

After brushing his teeth, Charlie made his way back to the shared space in their room. Isaac joined him, yawning silently and stretching. He wore his hedgehog pyjamas set, and Charlie smiled at his best friend as Isaac waved hello. Charlie put the kettle on and scrolled on his phone as it whistled. He prepared two cups and handed one to Isaac.

“Here’s your tea,” he said, but nothing came out. He repeated himself, feeling his lips move but not the tell-tale vibration of his vocal chords. He looked anxiously at Isaac who was watching him and frowning. “Can you hear me?”

Isaac tilted his head and shook it before mouthing, “No, can you hear me? Oh my goodness, I’m deaf!”

Charlie shook his head and pointed to the kettle and then to his ear, shrugging. Isaac considered him for a moment and nodded before exhaling loudly. The sound startled the two of them, and they hugged each other before walking to the door and looking into the corridor. Other students were out and about, milling around silently and gesturing to each other. It was clear they weren’t the only two affected by whatever caused this. Someone dropped their tea cup, and the sound of it shattering on the stone floor shook everyone.

Charlie’s mind was working full speed. “We should go find Nathan,” Charlie texted, and Isaac, hearing the ping on his phone, looked at the message and nodded. They got dressed quickly and made their way outside of their hall. As they walked through town, many stores were closed. People were wandering the streets aimlessly, some hugging and crying, others kneeling and praying before preachers silently reading Revelations 15:1. It unnerved Charlie. Seeing all the cornerstones of their society falling apart in silence scared him.

When they arrived at Nathan’s flat, they found the Watcher buried in a book and surrounded by several others as well as his laptop. A strange man sat in an armchair across the room, wringing his hands for something to do. Nathan rose as Charlie and Isaac entered and put a hand on Charlie’s shoulder. The touch calmed his nerves, and he touched Nathan’s hand in return and smiled before pointing to the books. Nathan shook his head. The research was going nowhere.

Isaac snapped into action and pulled out his phone, typing quickly and loudly before putting his phone back in his pocket. A phone on the book-filled table sounded, and Nathan looked at his phone before looking at Isaac and pulling him into a hug. The stranger turned on the television, and snapped his fingers for everyone to pay attention as he turned up the volume.

“A strange silence has taken over the town of Rochester in what appears to be a public case of laryngitis. Some are saying it’s due to vaccinations, while a few skeptics call it a hoax. In the meantime, Rochester has effectively shut down. The UKHSA — the United Kingdom Health Security Agency — have ordered the entire town quarantined. No one can go in or out until the symptoms disappear.”

That was all they had to say, and the stranger turned to Nathan along with everyone else. Charlie squished his lips for a moment, contemplating his next move, and then texted Nathan and Isaac: “Keep researching. I’ll be out tonight to keep the peace.”

—

As night settled, Charlie began his patrol, walking the relatively barren streets and taking stock of the chaos. For whatever reason, a car had hit a fire hydrant and been abandoned. People sat on benches drinking pints of beer with nothing else to do. He saw two men begin pushing each other over a loaf of bread. He was about to stop them when Nick stepped between them and gently separated them. As Nick turned his back, one of the men picked up a metal shaft and tried to hit him, but Charlie swiftly caught his arm and snapped his wrist before walking towards Nick.

Nick turned and Charlie instinctively hugged him. Nick hugged back, not releasing Charlie for several breaths before stepping back and holding his biceps just as he had the day before. Charlie's heart fluttered

“Are you okay?” Nick mouthed, and Charlie nodded.

“You?” Charlie replied silently, pointing at Nick and wishing he could truly communicate with him. Nick shrugged and opened his mouth to speak despite no sounds coming out. A crash beyond them broke the moment, and they both looked towards it. Shit, Charlie thought. I need to go investigate, but I can't let Nick see me as the Slayer as much as I want to stay with him. Stupid fate.

Nick tilted his head away, indicating that he had to go, and Charlie felt his heart sink but also felt relief that he, too, could go. He pointed in the opposite direction of Nick and started walking but was stopped short by a hand on his elbow; he knew it was Nick. He turned, unsure of why Nick was detaining him when Nick swooped his face towards Charlie’s and kissed him on the lips. Charlie kissed back, letting their mouths explore each other as Nick’s hands returned to Charlie’s arms. Okay, maybe he wasn’t as straight as Charlie assumed.

God, the things Charlie wanted to say, the questions he had and the wishes he needed to give voice danced on his tongue as Nick’s flicked over it. Eh, it can wait, Charlie thought, letting himself enjoy what certainly had to be a dream brought on by the silence. Nick pulled back, clearly gasping for air and resting his forehead against Charlie’s. They looked at each other once more before parting, and Charlie understood it wasn’t a dream.

Youssef
Youssef lay on top of Nathan, their naked bodies sticky and warm from the only thing they could think to do that didn’t involve talking. He raised his head, resting it on Nathan’s chest and letting the rhythmic rise and fall calm his fear. He had met Nathan on a holiday in Paris, and they’d had a whirlwind romance that they’d been trying to maintain despite being hundreds of kilometres away from each other. This visit was meant to be special, and while he was sure he would remember it for the rest of his life, it was not the weekend either Nathan or Youssef had planned.

Crawling slowly out of bed to not wake his lover, Youssef slipped Nathan’s silk robe over his nude body and walked into the living room. In the stillness, he ran through what had happened that day. He and Nathan woke up in each other’s arms and had had a lovely morning blowing each other. They realised they couldn’t say anything. Kids, Nathan’s former students, turned up at his place. And then Nathan spent the rest of the day, pre-evening delight, with either his nose in a book or his eyes on a screen.

It’s a bit much, Youssef thought as he stood motionless in the middle of the room pondering what to do both immediately and later. He resigned himself to making a cup of tea when movement outside the window caught his eye. He could have sworn he saw a well-dressed, bald gentleman floating across the courtyard followed by a lopping person whose arms flailed and dragged on the ground. At least, it seemed like a person. No one’s arms are that long, and people definitely don’t float. More likely it was a figment of his imagination.

He shuddered and turned away from the sight when he was startled by a horrible, grinning face stretching over decayed, dried skin looking at him through the window. The door rattled, and he jumped back and checked the locks to ensure everything was secure before running to Nathan and hiding next to him under the covers. It wasn’t perfect safety, but at least he was with his love. Unbeknownst to him, the grinning fright had made its way into Nathan’s neighbour’s home and, using the long arms of his accomplice to hold the neighbor down, delicately cut their heart out as the neighbor helplessly screamed in silence into the night.

Charlie
When Charlie woke, the eerie calm hadn’t startled him. He was still luxuriating in the memory of kissing Nick. His alarm had sounded, and he heard the whoosh of water and scrub as he brushed his teeth. He tried to gargle his dental rinse, but only a small, bubbly sound emanated from his throat. It almost made him choke since he was used to the harder sound more than the sensation. Behind him, he heard a dull slapping and turned to see Isaac hitting his duvet and shaking his head. Charlie shrugged. It’s not like he could say “sorry.” Besides, he said that too much as it was.

Isaac gestured towards him, rubbing his stomach and miming spooning food into his mouth. Charlie wasn’t hungry. He never was when he had slaying to do, but without knowing what was happening, he had to do something, so he nodded to Isaac and got dressed to go to the dining hall. Despite the lack of sound, he appraised himself in the mirror — checking the fit of his favorite jeans on his bum and the way his jumper looked — and mouthed, “Dayam.” There are so many ways to slay.

He and Isaac left their room and entered a chaotic crowd. Students milled around two campus security officers who were blocking off a room across the corridor and down a ways. They held their arms out to keep students from looking inside, motioning for them to move back and stepping away from the door. Beyond them, he noticed an unusual bald, middle-aged man in a brown suit waving cheese slices at him. Charlie felt his slayer senses tingle and darted a glance towards Isaac who tipped his head and hand towards the room. As Isaac waded into the throng of students, Charlie gave him two thumbs up and slipped behind campus security and into the room, gasping silently.

Before him was a dead student. It shocked Charlie. Not because he knew the student, or wasn’t used to death. It was part of his gift. But it still stung to know something had happened and he hadn’t been able to help. He stepped closer and took in the grisly scene. The young man was splayed on the single bed, his limbs casual and spread like a rag doll. His face had frozen in a silent scream. Charlie grimaced when he saw the bloody hole in the man’s chest where his heart should have been. It wasn’t a puncture wound. There were no messy tears or gashes to suggest something being inserted and pulled out. Precise, clean cuts of his skin were clear, and his ribcage had been neatly opened.

Charlie looked at the rest of the scene for some clue as to what happened but didn’t see any more blood. The heart was gone, and all traces and clues didn’t tell a story Charlie could process. He wasn’t a coroner or forensics expert, just a boy with a calling. If anyone could be able to put this puzzle together, it was Nathan. Charlie left the room, stopped in the dining hall, grabbed some tea and toast and Isaac, and the two of them headed for his Watcher’s place, more in need of guidance than ever.

Nathan
Nathan yawned and swept a hand over the warm space where Youssef should have been. He rolled from his stomach onto his back, put on his glasses, and looked around for his lover. He called his name unsuccessfully before frowning that his voice was still gone and he still hadn’t solved the mystery. He listened for the bathroom but didn’t hear anything. Youssef’s clothes were still on the floor where he had thrown them as they started making love. That reassured Nathan, but not being able to sense his love unsettled him.

He reached for his dressing gown and found it gone. I assume Youssef has it. He always liked it, Nathan thought to himself before forgoing any clothing and making his way downstairs after using the loo. The flat was hauntingly quiet at first, yet as he rounded the corner, he saw Youssef in his dressing gown, sitting on the sofa with his legs tucked under him, and watching the television as a reporter spoke:

“In the midst of the laryngitis epidemic in Rochester, four people were found brutally murdered. There seems to be no connection among the victims, but all had their chests cut open and their hearts removed in what authorities are calling a ritualistic killing spree. Rochester residents are advised to be on alert and stay inside with the doors locked until the situation can come under control.”

Youssef shifted, pulling his knees to his chest, as Nathan noticed his face growing pale. Nathan walked towards him and placed a hand on Youssef’s shoulder, startling the man. Youssef took a deep breath at seeing Nathan followed by a noiseless, appreciative gasp as his eyes dragged over Nathan’s naked body. Nathan pointed to his dressing gown and raised an eyebrow at Youssef. Youssef’s pale face coloured, and he smiled sheepishly. Nathan returned his smile, dropped a gentle kiss on the top of his head, and went back to the bedroom to change.

When he came back downstairs, he found Youssef drawing a picture. Nathan approached from the front, careful not to startle Youssef again, and he watched his lover draw. Youssef was not an artist, not like Nathan, but he produced a clear picture of an undead-looking person with a hideous grin. As Nathan studied it, comparing it to the various codexes and menageries he’d been researching, Youssef wrote under the face, “I saw this last night. They floated by with minions.”

Nathan cupped his chin, considering the new information. It registered with some folklore he’d read once during his Watcher training. The face along with the minions reminded him of a niche story from Bohemia. He went to his bookshelf and pulled out a heavy, well-used copy of Fairy Tales.

By the time Charlie and Isaac arrived, Nathan had put together a slide deck presentation to share the findings. Nathan pulled up his presentation, with the first slide reading: “Who are the Gentlemen?”. Isaac clapped and smiled to show he was paying attention, whereas Charlie just read the words on the slide and shrugged. Nathan silently sighed and switched to the next slide. Did Charlie not understand establishing the required exposition?

“They are fairy tale monsters,” the presentation continued, switching to the next slide. “What do they want?”

Isaac’s hand shot up, and he pointed to his chest as Nathan nodded and continued. “Hearts. They come into a village. They steal all the voices so no one can scream.” He had included his own visuals to go along with the explanation, and Charlie craned his neck to look at the cartoonish grinning men with bags and the people with lines coming from their mouths.

“THEN!” The slideshow continued with a jarring sparkle sound as the woods expanded and then shrunk on the screen. Nathan smiled proudly at the transition but frowned when he saw Charlie, Isaac, and Youssef looking impatiently at him. Nathan had included more visuals depicting a sleeping person and a Gentleman taking his heart. Charlie winced, and he wondered what had made his Slayer so squeamish. Finally, he added in the next slide, “They have at least four. They need seven.”

“How do we kill it?” Isaac texted the group. As their phones pinged loudly and everyone checked, Charlie picked up his hand and made a fist, raising and lowering it onto his lap as Isaac blushed. Nathan looked at him confused. Was this some new, young idea to masturbate a monster? Charlie, as if reading his mind, rolled his eyes and reached into his bag, pulling out Mr Pointy and repeating the gesture.

Nathan raised a finger and opened his mouth in an “ah” shape. He clicked on the presentation to forward to the next slide. “In the tales, no sword can kill them. But the princess screamed once, and it killed them.”

Isaac pulled out his phone and pressed play. Taylor Swift’s “Shake It Off” played loudly in the room, and Nathan winced. He shook his head and motioned for Isaac to turn it off. He switched the slide deck and shared, “Only a real human voice can do it.”

“How do I get my voice back?” Charlie texted, and Nathan stared at him, flummoxed. I don’t bloody know. I just research the back story so we know who or what we’re facing.

He put on the next slide showing a crude drawing of Charlie with a bow and arrow directing him to patrol tonight. He didn’t need to hear Charlie scoff to know he was irritated by the drawing. Nathan watched as Charlie drew his hands down his body to show he was fitter than the picture. Nathan rolled his eyes and directed Isaac to pick up a book and do some more research as Charlie rose and walked closer to the presentation to look at the drawing of the Gentlemen and the box in one of their hands.

Nick
Professor Singh was angry and scared. Nick could tell that much from her stony expression as she typed her directions into her computer for the lifeless AI voice to read. He shared her fear and frustration. He’d spent the day googling anything he could find about what was happening, searching for laryngitis breakouts, heart-based murders, and civil unrest. He was 62% certain Google wouldn’t be able to provide an answer, but he needed to do something. His mates hadn’t understood why he wouldn’t train with them, but he wanted to feel more useful than being a body.

The room settled as Professor Singh rapped on the metal table to get their attention. Their orders had changed since the night before. Where they had wanted to avoid causing panic the previous night and gone out in civilian clothing, they were going to militarise as a group tonight. People were dying. Safety was needed, and for Professor Singh and her team, that meant ignoring their former clandestinity. And openly carrying taser guns.

Harry Greene, one of the more obnoxious members of the Initiative, nearly jumped from his chair to punch and kick the air simultaneously knocking his seat back, and the clatter echoed in the open chamber. Nick’s stomach twisted. He hated the taser guns and any gratuitous violence. It wasn’t who he was. He had joined the team to play rugby, firstly, and had joined the initiative to help people, not attack. He looked at Harry and saw him gassing up some of his cronies before looking at his friends. They were excited but less obviously. It made Nick wonder once again whether he truly belonged with the group.

After suiting up and making sure their gear worked, Nick and his friends made their way to the town centre. In one day, it had already shifted from closed stores and boarded up windows to random rubbish bin fires and erupting hydrants from where cars had crashed. The way society had broken down so drastically over people not being able to talk shocked Nick. Surely humans were better than that.

Otis and Sai split from Christian and Nick, and the two pairs took opposite ends of the main street. Nick held his taser gun carefully to his chest. He needed it available, but he didn’t want to have it drawn and aimed. Christian mimicked him, and they walked in careful silence, each surveying their sides for anything unusual. A flash or orange and a rustle of leaves made both men stop. Christian nodded to Nick and went to investigate the shrub from where the noise had come. He found a small ginger cat hiding beneath it and crouched to coax it out.

Nick smiled at his friend, reminded of his gentle spirit. As Christian attempted to get the cat to come out, Nick took the time to look around and a movement in the clock tower captured his attention. He tapped on Christian’s shoulder to show him where he was going, and Christian acknowledged it while cuddling the cat that Nick could swear was giving him the evil eye as he backed away and headed for the clock tower.

He shouldered open the door and walked in slowly, this time holding his taser ready for action. The room was cluttered and dim with dusty storage bins draped with canvas stacked against the walls. Wood slats covered the windows from before the outbreak. The tower felt abandoned, haunted. Nick wondered if it was just another one of those strange mysteries he’d come to find happened almost weekly in Rochester. Maybe he would ask Charlie what he thought about the odd things he’d noticed. It’d be a nice way to begin a conversation.

Shadows moved above him, the dance of light and dark breaking through the gaps in the floorboards and drew Nick’s attention. He was looking for a staircase or ladder when he felt strong arms grabbing his shoulder and pulling him backwards. Nick stumbled and fell at the surprise attack but quickly offered a riposte before assessing the situation as he had been trained. Before him was a grotesque, vaguely human thing with long, dragging (yet surprisingly strong) arms. It lunged for him, and Nick grabbed its arm, using its momentum to throw it to the floor.

Nick stopped and stood tall for a moment, smiling to himself that he’d been able to subdue whatever the fuck this was without his gun when a Thing 2 appeared on his flank and tried to tackle him. Thing 1 stirred, and Nick realised he was about to be outnumbered, but he wouldn’t be outgunned. He aimed his taser and shot Thing 2, sending it wiggling to the floor near Thing 1 when yet another creature burst through the boarded up window. How many of them are there? And where’s Christian?

Before he could look for his teammate, a lithe, agile body swung into the room through the broken window, kicking Thing 3 before landing in a graceful pose that reminded Nick of Black Widow. He readied his gun for attack, not yet sure if this person was friend or foe. When the stranger’s head of curly black hair flung up, he saw Charlie’s face and gasped in amazement and shock at the crossbow in Charlie’s hand pointed at him. Nick stood frozen as the boy he’d been crushing on quickly smiled, stood, sparred with Thing 3, and kicked him into the air several metres across the room. On dog, I have never been more turned on and so confused as I am now.

Charlie
While the streets were chaotic and people scurried between fire barrels and looted stores, Charlie felt calm. Apocalypse? He’d been there. Hell, he’d already died once even if it was only a little. This was just another Tuesday, and he’d be back home before dawn.

As he walked past the frantic people and down a less populated, quieter street, Charlie caught a glimpse of unusual movement. A tall, thin, pale man in an impeccable black suit glided down the pavement, a sinister grin on his face. Beside him, running like an off leash dog, was something Charlie hadn’t seen since some tainted beer had made some of the people on campus become Neanderthals. This must be the minion Nathan’s boyfriend mentioned.

They hadn’t noticed him, so Charlie took up the hunt, following them and studying their relationship and movements. With as little intelligence as Nathan had been able to provide, he didn’t want to be impulsive and reckless. Too much was at stake. He followed them as they neared the clock tower, but as they turned, something hit Charlie, sending him to the ground.

He rolled over and flipped back onto his feet, seeing two minions about to strike again. Ah, Charlie realised, There are seven gentlemen, so there must be seven minions. Great. Wee. Slayer.

Charlie began fighting, a force of nature with hands and feet flying at the minion. He countered every parry, snapped the neck of one minion, and forced the other minion towards the clock tower. He didn’t want to miss his chance with the Gentleman. With each blow, Charlie pushed the minion closer to their destination before kicking forcefully and sending the minion through the boarded up window behind them.

He followed the creature inside by jumping to catch a branch and swinging like a gymnast into the room, striking the minion yet again and sticking the landing with style. The panache end didn’t go unnoticed. As Charlie flipped his hair back, he saw Nick’s shocked face and lightly armoured body pointing a gun at him. Unfortunately, Charlie also had his crossbow ready to shoot Nick. Well, this is a plot twist. Charlie smiled widely, rose, and spin-kicked the minion into the air and across the room as Nick stared agog.

Charlie giggled despite himself as Nick stood open-mouthed and pointing between Charlie and the minion several metres away. He took in Nick’s military drag, wondering at what army surplus store he’d purchase fatigues and a bulletproof waistcoat. Then he saw the gun in Nick’s hand and frowned. Charlie didn’t do guns, as a rule. Mr Pointy was usually good enough, with backup from his trusty crossbow. He didn’t have much time to consider this, though, as the two other minions Nick had been fighting began retreating to the upper floor.

Both of the men looked for a means to get up, and Charlie spotted the bell rope hanging. He climbed it quickly to the top floor, paused for a moment to absorb his surroundings, and saw all seven of the Gentlemen leering at him as their minions began to circle around him. He punched and kicked, but Charlie was overpowered, and they held him down on a crate as one of the Gentlemen floated towards him with a razor. Charlie glanced to his side and saw six jars filled with bloody hearts, and fearful he was to be the seventh, swung his legs up and kicked the minions off him.

He recentred himself and prepared for another onslaught when one of the minions flailed as electricity buzzed in the air and sparks flew off its chest. Nick stood in the corner with his gun pointed at another minion. Charlie saw the stairs behind him and groaned internally. Of course, he had to take the rope and flex in front of his crush.

There wasn’t time to ponder this entirely because the minions and the Gentlemen rallied, and both men struggled to keep up. One of the Gentlemen swiped at Charlie with his scalpel, making Charlie wince, as a minion grabbed around his neck and held Charlie in a choke hold. As he gasped for air, he saw the box from the dream and tried to get Nick’s attention. He slammed his hands on the barrel in front of him, causing Nick to look up from the minion he had stunned. Charlie pointed to the table of heart-filled jars and the box and motioned for Nick to destroy it.

Nick nodded, ran forward, and smashed a jar with his gun. He looked up at Charlie, a proud smile on his face like he wanted to hear “good boy” for a job well done. Charlie rolled his eyes as he gasped for air and pantomimed opening a box. He really needs to be precisely told what to do, doesn’t he? Of course I find a boy with a praise kink.

With another nod of understanding, Nick smashed the box, and opaque mist flew from the decimated table and out the windows as voices returned. Charlie took a deep breath, looked at the Gentlemen, and let out a loud, piercing scream for as long as his lungs held out. The Gentlemen covered their ears in silent pain before their heads exploded in spectacular bursts of chartreuse goo. Charlie stopped screaming, smiled slightly, and panted from his space on the floor as he caught his breath. Nick looked at him with an open mouth that closed into a confused and seemingly angry line. Charlie blinked as he looked back at Nick, wondering what the next stop was, what he would say, when they heard a voice calling for him and Nick ran away.

Well, shit.

Nathan
Now that the crisis of the week was done, Nathan looked forward to focusing on Youssef and their last days together. They sat on the sofa, Youssef’s head on Nathan’s lap as Nathan ran his hands through the thick hair. God, he loved the younger man who had only recently come out and felt safe enough to explore his identity and the possibility of openly loving another man. He leant forward and kissed Youssef’s forehead.

“So, would you say this was, erm, your best visit ever?” he asks, semi-facetiously. He tried to sound casual and breezy, and he saw Youssef smirk slightly and glance at him before looking away. Nathan stroked his hair again and was thrilled when Youssef drew Nathan’s other hand to his belly.

“All the time you used to talk to me about witchcraft and darkness and the like, I just thought you were being pretentious,” he explained, stroking Nathan’s hand.

“Oh, I was,” Nathan laughed nervously. He took a sip of wine to calm himself. “I was also right.”

“So everything you told me was true?”

“Well, no, I wasn’t actually one of the original members of Take That, but…” he said as Youssef laughed quietly. “But about the monster stuff. Yes.”

He could feel Youssef’s body grow tense against his. Youssef pulled Nathan’s hand closer to him, holding on as if he were unmoored by the reality of the supernatural. He heard Youssef murmur, “Scary.”

“Too scary?” Nathan asked, feeling his heart beat faster and his stomach fluttering. It had been ages since he’d allowed himself to let someone into his world. Being a Watcher was a lonely existence, and the last man he’d loved and let in had died a horrible death at the hands of a vengeful vampire. He hoped Youssef could both see how much he cared for him as well as understand how Nathan would try to keep him and all his loved ones safe. He sipped more wine as he waited for Youssef’s response.

“I don’t know” was all Youssef could manage. Nathan took a deep breath and began preparing his heart. It wasn’t a definitive end, but it was an ambiguous restart.

Nick
It was raining the next morning. Of course, it was. It actually helped wash away some of the chaos of the past few silent days. When Christian had called to him while Nick was in the clock tower, he’d been overwhelmed both by everything that had happened and by Charlie. He was so confused, in full-on proper bi panic crisis. He’d harboured so many fantasies about Charlie, but he didn’t know if he could envision a future where Charlie would want him now that he knew Charlie was as strong and capable as he was. It wasn’t that Nick thought Charlie was small and weak; it was that he didn’t know how he could fit into Charlie’s very different world.

He needed to see Charlie, to talk to him. He hadn’t checked the weather before leaving his house, so he was soaked to his skin when he knocked on Charlie’s dorm door. Charlie opened it, and his face looked shocked to see Nick. That makes sense, Nick thought. I abandoned you after we did the thing.

“Hi,” he muttered, his voice catching.

“Hi,” Charlie said, gesturing for Nick to come inside. Nick sat on the bed opposite Charlie. He wanted to tell the dark-haired boy how much he liked him and that he loved liking him. He yearned to kiss him again as they had the previous night. He ached to hold Charlie and be held.

“I guess we have to talk,” he finally managed, although words struggled to form.

“I guess so,” Charlie said, looking at Nick but also not talking. Having the ability to speak didn’t mean communication actually came easily. Nick looked down at his hands and out the window, anywhere but at Charlie, and he could feel Charlie watching him, waiting.