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Your name is John Egbert and this is honestly getting really old.
You wiggle and pull at the ropes holding your wrists again. Damn it, they're tied really well: Not behind your back and together, but to the arms of the straight-backed chair (that makes it trickier), tight enough so you can't slip them, the knots far away from your fingers so you can't even try to undo them, no sharp objects anywhere close to you so you can't try to cut them. You grimace a little. These guys are good hostage takers. And you're usually a really good hostage-situation-escaper, too! It's kind of humiliating you can't even slip some ropes!
You realize you've gotten to a point where you're used to escaping hostage situations. What even is your life?
The answer to that is simply that you are the (not so) Badass Normal in a group of supernatural creatures who seem to attract bad things to them like they're some kind of roasted chicken left outside on the street and the bad things are starving stray dogs. In that situation, you would be the kid walking down the street who tries to fight the dogs off with a stick, only to find out the dogs are demons and the chicken was poisoned in the first place.
...Wow, that one kind of got away from you. You need to stop hanging out with Dave so much, the shitty metaphors are rubbing off.
Either way, you might as well have a sticker on your forehead that says 'Perfect for bait!'
You look up as one of your Kidnappers of the Week walk in. "Hi!" You say. "You tie a mean knot, let me tell you!"
He doesn't say anything. Figures. He does approach you, however, reaching in his pocket for something as he gets closer.
"So," you try again. "which one are you after, anyway?" You are constantly shocked at the fact that evil villain monologues to the captive are a thing that happens, but they are. All the time. Normally, one of the only upsides to being bait for your friends is that by the time you escape you know what the moron wants and what he wants with it, at least. "You want Jade's weird DNA?" You probe. "Have a bone to pick with the Striders? Believe Rose is the next coming of the dark gods?" All things that have happened before. Actually, all things that have happened more then once before. No one could say your life is boring.
The man doesn't say anything. He pulls a blue sharpie marker out of his pocket.
"Hey, what's that-Whoa!" He takes the glasses off your face and starts drawing of you. Swirling markings, from what you can feel, going up your face and cheeks and around your eyes. He continues them down your neck, onto the tops of your shoulders, shoves you forward so he can write them down your back. He sinks next to you, starting at your fingertips and slowly working his way to your upper arms.
Alright. This is new.
"What are you doing?!" You try to lean away from him, with very limited results. "Seriously, what the hell- Stop!"
He once again doesn't answer you, but he does start talking under his breath. It takes you a fraction of a second to realize he's chanting.
It's not in Latin- you've heard Dave do tons of Latin chanting and this sounds nothing like that. It's also not the Eldritch babble Rose descends into when she needs to go under particularly deep for a spell. It's rhythmic and sort of tribal, and the man is half singing.
You try to pretend it doesn't stir something deep in your chest.
Outside, it begins to storm.
*
About an hour later, your friends burst into the warehouse where you're being held, and you don't think you've ever been happier to see them. Because, yeah, you've been kidnapped before, but then kidnappers have never acted like this.
They cut off your shirt and the markings creep all over your upper body. You are still very much tied to a chair. The chanting only stopped about 10 minuets ago, when the guy left the room for whatever reason, and there's a faint pressure at the back of your head you try to ignore.
So yeah. Dave with his sword already faintly glowing and the air behind him shimmering in the way that indicted spirits, Rose wielding her wands, and Jade half animorphed is just about the best thing ever.
"Hi guys!" you call, letting them know that despite how bizarre you look, you really are fine. You think. "Raining pretty hard out there, huh?"
"I suppose so." Says Rose, the light off her wands tingeing darker as she scans the room. "We would have been here sooner, but you said you could rescue yourself from now on."
"Hey!" You protest. "These are really good knots! And not really normal circumstances!" You glance down at the sharpie marker all over you.
“Yeah man.” Says Dave, his eyes dragging over you, “What the fuck is up with that?”
You try to shrug. It’s ineffective. “No idea!”
Dave then takes a few steps forward, probably to get to you and cut you free so you can all get home. In doing so, Dave trips something.
All hell breaks the fuck lose.
Four men in black, dressed similarly to the man who had been drawing on you, appear out of seemingly nowhere. Two go for Dave or Rose respectively, and two made a beeline for Jade. Rose raises her wands, Dave shifts into a familiar stance, Jade growls deep in her throat. You almost laugh because of how fast you’re sure this will be over.
But then the light from the wands die out, and the swords glow flickers away. From the looks on Dave and Rose’s faces, this isn’t something they’re doing. The brief second they pause to stare at their weapons is long enough for them both to be pinned. Jade growls louder and her ears twitch. The man holding Dave puts a knife to his throat.
Jade let’s herself be restrained.
“A very nice try, kids.” The chanting man with the sharpie appears behind you, while you stare rather dumbly and try to figure out what just happened.
Rose looks just as composed as ever. “How did you disable our abilities?” She asks, as if talking about a football game or asking a question about the Boar War in history.
“As of two hours ago, this place is a shrine.” The man spreads his arms to the sides, indicating the whole crappy warehouse. “A holy place of one of the Ancients. No powers other then those of that God may be used here.”
There is a pause, before Dave barks out a bitter laugh. “Oh god, you dipshits are fucking cultists, aren’t you?” He glances to the side. “Never mind Rosie, Jade. This is going to blow up in their faces. All we need to do is watch.”
“Now why would you think that?” The man smiles serenely.
“You don’t mess with the Ancients, dude. Unless you have a major death wish.” Dave pulls at his captor. The captor holds fast. “It always goes wrong. They can’t be controlled by humans.”
“Now, normally, little Strider, you’d be right.” Dave hisses, though whether it was over his family name being thrown out so casually or being called ‘little’ you can’t tell. The man continues. “But most people don’t have what we have right here.”
Dave looks at Rose. Rose looks at Jade. Jade blinks, looks at them both, then speaks. “What are you talking about? Rose is aligned with the Dark Gods, Dave deals with Earth-bound spirits, and I just fiddle technology and genetics and try to apply it to magic and stuff. How can any of us help you with anything to do with the old gods?”
The man looks at her for a long moment. Then he throws back his head and howls with laughter. After a beat, the men holding your friends begin to laugh too. The sounds mix together in an ugly, echoing harmony and it makes your head pound. After a few seconds the noise dies down, and the man behind you wipes tears of mirth out of his eyes. “You’re serious.” He chuckles. “You’re actually serious. None of you have any idea, do you?”
“How about you cut the crap and just spill it?” Snaps Dave. “How are any of the three of us going to help you with whatever crazy plan you have cooked up?”
“You all are really quite conceited, aren’t you?” The man stares them down, amusement still on his face. “When did I ever say it was one of you who we needed?” And then two hands find your shoulders and squeeze.
Wait.
What?
“Huh?” The syllable comes out of your mouth strangled from shock. You follow that statement up with yet another extremely intelligent one- “Who, me?”
Rose looks at the man, as icily calm as always. “You are mistaken.” She says clearly. “John is completely human.”
Alright. That…Hurt a little bit.
Because, yeah. You are completely human. You have slightly higher paranormal awareness then the average person, but that just meant you can feel weird things a little easier sometimes. You have none of Dave’s talent with ghosts, the only magic you can ever hope to do is parlor tricks and slight of hand (though you’re decent at those), you don't have Jade’s brain or any weird animal genetics. You are just you. You’re just John, and you are only human.
But that’s not bad. It’s not bad because someone needs to drive the getaway car or hold the camera, or be ready with bandages and ice packs, or bullshit to an employer as to why their missing work again. Someone needs to be the normal in this big crazy mess of things that shouldn’t exist, and that is you. Someone needs to suggest that maybe it was just some guy with a cattle prod, or your average garden-variety sicko and not a vampire/zombie/demon/shape shifter thing. That is you. You had this freak out last year, and had been assured that you had nothing to worry about because your friends wouldn’t trade you for anything. It is totally fine that you’re human.
But hearing it said like that, when all your friends are restrained and helpless, the fact it’s all your fault their restrained and helpless…
Being completely human is one of the worst things you can think of.
“She’s right you know.” You speak up. “Nothing remotely supernatural about me! 100% pure human! So how about you let us all go, huh?”
“I’m sure that’s what you think.” He runs a hand through your hair. You want to take a shower. “Vessels rarely know what they are before they are called.”
And repeat: Wait.
What?
“You think I’m a what?” You crane your neck, trying to get a look at his face. All you do is make your neck sore.
“A vessel.” The man touches your hair again, forcing you to look forward, and okay this is going from awkward and sort of weird to extreme ‘do not want’ territory. “The most perfect vessel for our goddess that’s been born for hundreds of years.”
You try to ignore his hands on you and speak. “Uh, just so you know, that means pretty much nothing to me.” You try to force your voice to stay steady, try to be like Rose and keep up perfectly calm exterior. You’re not sure how well it works.
The man chuckles and runs his hands down to your shoulders. “Tell me, John.” He says, more quiet then he was before. “How do you feel about the wind?”
“Shut up.” Dave’s voice suddenly echoes through the space, sharp and cutting, and you look at him for the first time in a while.
He looks afraid.
And that scares you, more then anything else that scares you, because you haven’t seen Dave look that legitimately afraid since he had to face the ghost of his brother. You’re pretty sure facing the ghost of his brother had been his worst fear.
“Shut up,” he repeats, pulling against his captor again with no real results. “He’s not, he can’t be, so just shut the hell up!”
You look quickly to your other friends and see that, thank god, you’re not the only one confused here. Jade looks just as lost as you feel, and Rose looks only mildly concerned (though with her it’s hard to tell).
“You seem sure about that, Mr. Strider.” The man bends down closer to you and you really, really don’t like where this is going. “Let’s test it out then, shall we?”
And he starts to chant in your ear.
It’s the same weird language as before- sing-song and sort of tribal, completely unfamiliar and achingly so at the same time.
Rain pounds onto the high windows of the warehouse. The world blurs.
The world was already a little blurry, because the assholes had never given you your glasses back, but it’s suddenly like the outlines of everything have been completely erased. A sound escapes your mouth, a half-gasped ‘oh’, and you think that, wow, you must sound stupid. Colors seep into each other. People become splotches. You are still John.
The chanting continues. You remember late afternoons in the summer with your dad, back when your dad was still alive, a thunderstorm raging outside like a wounded beast in a trap. You would sit at the living room window, push your face to the glass with your mouth hanging open and watch, like the best action flick in the world was playing in the rain drops sliding down the glass.
‘Let me go outside, Dad!’ you’d say, never taking your eyes away. ‘Please, please, pretty please let me go outside!’
And he said no son, you can’t, there’s lightning and wind out there and you could get hurt.
And you looked at him and say ‘why would the wind ever hurt me?’
The chanting continues. Your head pounds. You want aspirin, you want a bath, you want dinner, you want out of here.
You skin starts to itch, then to burn, and then the markings they drew on your skin start to glow like fireflies and if you could be any more scared then you are right now you would be.
You can’t hear the chanting. All you hear is a faint roaring, very far away, quickly coming closer like a train. You hear cries of pain. You think that it might be you. You think you might hear people saying your name. You are John. You are John.
You…
Are…
…Who?
The pain reaches a horrible crescendo and something snaps. You can’t see anything and the world sounds like raindrops on pavement and something clicks into place inside you. You suddenly feel like you’ve finally found something you never knew you were missing, and for a breath-taking moment everything is wonderful and perfect.
Then there is more pain and a wrong, wrong wrongness then you’ve ever felt before and the scream that tears from your throat feels like nails.
Then there’s nothing.
*
John just stopped moving.
You’re name is Dave Strider and your best friend just took in a whole all-powerful being and now he is slumped over and isn’t moving.
You know about vessels. You spent ages 6 to 12 studying under your brother about everything that could possibly go bump in the night, then from 12 to now studying the same thing by yourself. That’s honestly the biggest difference between you and Rose: you had a formal teacher, someone to guide you (even if he was unconventional in his methods), while she had had to grope around in the dark and the internet, barely understanding the whispers in her head. Until she found a man named Scratch, but Scratch was a thing that was Not Talked About, ever.
So you know about vessels. You know what being a vessel means for the poor sucker unlucky enough to be one.
You want to shout god fucking damn it, haven’t we all lost enough?!
John is still very still, the marks on his body- binding runes, how did you not pick up on that, what a rookie mistake- are glowing faintly.
Rose stares and tries to look composed. She is panicking more then any of you.
Jade thrashes, the dog ears on top of her head twitching to hear breath. “John!” She screams, voice catching in her throat. “John! Wake up! John, you are not allowed to die on us, open your eyes right now!”
And then slowly, mechanically, John sits up. The creep behind him smiles smugly and flips out a switch blade, cutting the ropes that hold his wrists to the chair. The man kneels at John’s feet, then speaks in a hushed voice.
“Arise, my Goddess.”
John’s eyes snap open. They no longer have pupils. The color has lightened from something like a summer sky to an electric robin’s egg blue. The air around the room crackles. Your heart sinks and you feel sick.
He’s gone.
Whatever that is, it isn’t John anymore.
He…No, it, rises to its feet, unsteady like a fawn. It looks at the man on the ground and lifts a hand. The runes glow.
It stops.
“My Goddess,” The man says, reverent and cruel, “you may dispose of the non-believers.”
It obediently takes a step forward, barefoot and more graceful then John could ever be. The eerie eyes stare at you, all of you, for a very long moment. The men holding your arms let go and move away as fast as they can. You strain your consciousness back, try to feel Aradia’s spirit ready to lend you her strength. You can tell she’s there, but you still can’t connect. He wasn’t kidding about the whole sacred-shrine thing then. Fantastic.
You glance to the side. Rose is holding her wands in slack hands, staring in mute horror. Jade is shaking like a leaf.
The creature continues to advance. A wind picks up all around you all, rushing to John’s body and circling it like a cocoon, or a shield. Lightning strikes jagged outside.
Of course, you think, John would be the vessel to the ancient storm goddess.
Slowly, you raise your sword. Jade looks at you with shock.
“Dave, what are you-“
“You should finish transforming, Harley.”
“But…But that’s John.” She says, eyes darting between him and you.
And so you lie. “Yeah. But when he snaps out of this, do you think he could forgive himself if he hurt any of us?”
She hesitates another second. The creature advances a few more steps. Slowly, she nods firmly. In the space of two blinks, a great white dog is standing where Jade was a second before.
You share a glance with Rose. She saw right through you (no big shock). You force a tiny smile.
“Ready to kick it without magic, Lalonde?”
She places the ends of the wands together, and they attach together into a staff. “Of course I am.” She says, the icy façade back up.
You take a few steps forward and take point on your triangle. You shift your sword and stare down the thing that used to be your best friend. The wind picks up to something like a gale force, and you swear its body lifts off the ground a few inches. It lifts an arm, air rushing to it like metal to a magnet. With a flick of a wrist, the wind comes streaming towards you, a cutting force that knocks you back a few steps. A hand to the shoulder by Rose stops you from falling.
You inhale once, take a fraction of a second to remember your combat training. Then give a signal.
You, Rose and Jade spring forward to battle your best friend, probably to the death.
*
You’re not sure if you have a name.
Well…Maybe you had a name once, but it doesn’t really seem to matter right now. Nothing really seems to matter right now. You are floating. You are safe.
Something in the back of your conscience screams that no, you’re not, but everything else says to ignore it so you do.
Something breaks the haze of contentment- a tiny little blip on the metaphorical radar. It’s as if a quiet, muffled voice is calling and reaching out for attention or help.
You’re not sure why, but you reach back.
You find something warm and soft and more then a little welcoming. You hold on.
…child…child, you must wake…my child…
The voice is clearer now, coming from the presents you found. You don’t understand.
must…wake, child, must….there is danger, you…wake…
There is something touching your hair, just a gentle, rhythmic stroking, like something a mother might do to comfort a small child.
No, the word mother sounds wrong, why does mother sound wrong?
You don’t think you had a mother.
…You had a father.
…John.
Your name is John.
Your name is John Egbert and you are the (not so) Badass Normal in a group of supernatural weirdoes.
Your eyes fly open. You are nowhere.
good…good, pleasing, very good…child…greetings, child, kin.
There is nothing there but you to speak.
“Wha-“ You half-grunt, and you’re about to find the brains to form a coherent sentence when-
When you’re watching Dave charge at you, sword raised and ready to strike. With a lazy flick of your wrist, you sent him flying backwards. He hits the wall hard and slides down it, crumpling on the floor for the space of three breaths before forcing himself to his feet. Without looking, you send another tendril of razor-like air to your right, and are rewarded with the sound of a dog whimper. Something hits you from the back and you turn sharply. Rose has her staff up in a defending position. You move to lash at her, but something latches around your neck. Dave. A blast of wind sends them rocketing back feet from you.
Everything comes rushing back to you and you’re panicking, because that is not you in your body and that thing that is not you is going to kill your friends.
The warm presents is back, even though you still can’t see it.
calm yourself, child…you must…quell, calm, be not so…calm yourself.
“Where are you?” You look around wildly, searching for the source of the words.
You are surrounded by comfort, suddenly, like a blanket or a cocoon.
hush…hush, my child…you must be calm, we haven’t much time, we…time, my kin, we have…
“I…” You inhale deeply and try to do as it says. You let it out and, after a second, ask a different question. “Who are you?”
i am that which humans take everyday… i am Breath…i am that which sailors love and fear, i am what has always been…
Though that doesn’t really make all that much sense, you think you understand. “You’re the God I’m the vessel or whatever for, right?”
correct… but…never take, never, hate to take…no freedom no movement…hate to take.
“Wait.” You think about that.“…You don’t want to be here anymore then me, do you?”
no child.
The voice sounds so sure, so horribly sorrowful, that you believe it.
“Can I help?” You ask desperately. “There must be something I can do.”
no child…there…nothing.
“Oh.” You slump a little. “Oh.”
There’s nothing you can do. Typical.
Typical for the helpless human. So fucking typical. You can never save yourself. You always need to relay on someone else, and you hate it. You hate never being any real help to Jade and Dave and Rose. You hate always being kidnapped and tied up. You hate being bait. You hate…
“I hate being useless!” You say, and to you humiliation your voice cracks, because if there’s one thing you hate more then that it’s crying.
The warmth of the goddess pushes closer.
no tears, my child, no…such a strong spirit…such a strong…no need to cry…
“Please.” You beg. “Please, there must be something. Those are my friends, my best friends, and we’ve all kind of been through a lot of shit, and I really can’t lose them, so…Please, can’t we fight this somehow?”
...perhaps…there might…together, child, together?
“W-What do you mean?”
we join…as one, we join, not as a master and servant, not as power and vessel, as one we join…
“Would that work?”
a chance, my child…we have a chance.
“Better then nothing, I guess!” You steel yourself. “I’m for it. Let’s do this.”
You can almost hear it laughing as it comes closer still, over your arms and throat and eyes. You feel the rightness you had glimpsed before but more so, as if the puzzle piece you lost has finally been snapped into its final place. You feel a rush of bravery.
“Hey!” You scream into the void, and you feel the Breath scream with you and it is marvelous. “Hey! That’s my body you’re using! How about you GET OUT OF IT!”
And then.
You.
Are.
Free.
*
He had you pinned against the wall by your neck. Rose is unconscious feet away, and the big white dog that is Jade is struggling to get to her feet. None of you could fight him. None of you wanted to hurt him.
Your name is Dave Strider and you think this might be it.
The thing in John’s body looks at you with unnatural eyes and a gives a grin that’s so cruel it sickens you to see on his face.
“Go on.” The man calls from near the chair. “Finish him.”
You shut your eyes and brace for death.
It doesn’t come.
You are dropped to the floor. After gasping to get air back in your lungs, you look up. The binding runes are glowing again. The creature’s eyes are closed.
You look quickly to the man by the chair. He has a look of faint puzzlement on his face. Okay, yeah, he doesn’t have any idea what the fuck is going on either. At the moment, you’re not being killed, so you count it as a good thing. In the corner of your eye, Rose stirs a little. Also a good thing. Your sword is very out of reach and you still can’t connect with Aradia. Bad thing. You stare at the creature and wait.
Then suddenly the runes lose their light and it let’s out a long, drawn out scream that makes your hair stand on end. Its eyes open.
John- real, actual John, the John you’ve known since childhood- looks at you for a split second. Then the pupils glaze over again, but not in the weird electric light blue. Darker. John’s blue. Then it grins at you, not quite John but close.
You feel a sudden raise of hope in your chest.
John(?) turns away from you, face stony and unreadable. He slowly raises both hands to the sides and, just as slowly, squeezes them into fists.
The men along the wall, the ones who had restrained you, fall to the ground choking.
The leader, the man near the chair, lets out a roar of outrage. “What?!”
Not-Quite-John begins to walk towards him. “Tell me.” He speaks, and it is in a startling double voice- John’s layered with an unknown women’s. “What made you think that this would be a good idea?”
The man spluttered. “I don’t-“
“You took the being that controls one of the most untamed forces on earth and trapped it with a kindred spirit. You tried to control that which should never be controlled by a mortal. You tried to enslave a force of nature.” He takes a step closer, the wind starting to wrap around him once more. “I will ask again: What made you think that was a good idea?”
“M-My goddess…” he stutters. “I thought I was doing your will-“
The echoing voice laughs coldly. “Why would you think that I, one of the three powers that grant life, would ever enjoy seeing it taken away?”
“But…” The man takes a step back in fear. “You shouldn’t even be in control…The…The vessel…The binding runes!”
“A vessel is never as effective if they are not willing. Your binding ruins are meant to contain unworldly powers.” The smile on John’s face was almost affectionate. “Not a human soul.”
“The human soul doesn’t need binding, it’s human, it’s weak against-“
A low laugh. “Foolish, to underestimate a child of the air, the winds most favored son. A fool committing a foolish act.” He raises an outstretched fist. The look of terror on the man’s face is sort of satisfying. John’s dual voices ring throughout the mostly-empty warehouse.
“Goodbye.”
Then he twists the fist sharply, and you can almost see the breath torn from the man’s lungs.
There is a long moment of silence, save for the storm outside. The wind around John dies out.
He slumps to the ground.
From across the room there is a sharp yip. The white dog starts toward him, shifts to Jade halfway there, then falls on her knees by his side.
“John?” She says quietly, then louder. “John!”
You take a detour to check on Rose- I’m fine, for goodness sakes…Well, perhaps a slight concussion, but I’ll live. Help me up- then you both join Jade.
For a heat-stopping moment, John is still as stone.
A second.
Two.
Three.
His eyes flutter open. The tension slides off of Rose, Jade half-sobs in relief and you breathe out a ‘Thank fuck.’
“…Wow.” He says blearily. “That kind of hurt. A lot. Add that to my 'never do again' list, jeez.”
“You idiot!” Jade howls. “If you ever do that to us again, I’ll…I’ll…”
John laughs breathily. “…Sure thing.” His eyes close again.
Jade looks close to a panic, and honestly you’re not too far behind, but Rose just shakes her head. “He’s exhausted himself. He needs rest.”
You’re honestly exhausted too,so getting John outside is sort of a big production, but once out in the night air you can finally connect to Araida and Rose’s powers are back, and with a little magic you get the sleeping John into the back seat of the car.
You will figure out this mess tomorrow, right now you want to go home.
*
You are back in the warm, safe place, and it really is safe this time. You feel the joy of your goddess as she rushes to greet you, wrapping around in what you can only assume is an embrace.
we succeeded, my child!...so well, we did…you did…
“Ha, thanks.” You pull her close to you, imagining that you’re giving her a hug. She squirms happily. “I couldn’t have done it without you.” You pause. “But…Why are you still here? Don’t you want to go back to, uh, where ever gods and stuff live?”
we are bound, child…bound as one until the day you die…
“…Oh no!” You realize what this means. “Oh no, I’m so sorry! That means you’re trapped here now? Oh jeez, I’m-“
no, child…my child, my son…i do not mind…i will stay…with you, i will stay…perhaps some adventure, a change is what i need…
“I.” Your mind latches on to something. “…Son?”
my kindred spirit, my kind, my child, my son…is that…alright, is that…?
“Uh. I’ve never really had a mom before.” She had died when you were a tiny baby, you think. “But, uh.” You smile. “I think I’d really like to be your son!”
You can feel her joyful laugh.
i will teach you the ways of the wind…
The warmth around you tightens and you feel lulled.
Sleep, child….sleep, rest…tomorrow is new…
And cradled in the arms of the Wind Mother, you do.