TIMING: About a week and a couple days before the town implodes
PARTIES: @ironcladrhett @lostlovings
SUMMARY: Vida goes to Rhett about her visions and he gives her some last words and they unknowingly spend their final moments together in the same room.
WARNINGS: Alcohol to cope with grief, distressing hallucinations
Vida stared at her feet, her eyes half open and her shoulders slouched forward. She couldn’t bring herself to straighten up, whether it be her or her apartment. Things were a mess. Her entire life was unequivocally a complete mess.
She hadn’t been to the restaurant in a week and half. The end of the month was coming up. Luz had been late to school every other day. Vida hadn’t tidied up in god knew how long. Her contact with anyone had been limited and all that was left was her thoughts and the odd takeovers she’s been going through which left her a shell of a person both emotionally and physically.
Oftentimes she woke up on the floor or half on a surface, without memory of the last five minutes. She spent most of the time in her room now, not wanting to spread panic to those who loved her. She only left the house for Luz and the occasional trip to the library to read more about what had happened to her town. She figured that if she found out what happened, maybe it was all connected?
Still, that didn’t matter. Not now. Rhett was before her. He was the first person she’d allowed herself to interact with in a week. “Hey…” she sighed, weakly forcing a smile. “Thanks for coming. I wouldn’t ask if I weren’t…” dying? That’s what it sure felt like. Vida waved her worry off. “It’s important. Thank you for coming.”
—
She looked like hell. And that was saying something, coming from a guy that took personal grooming as more of a suggestion than a requirement. The wild outdoorsman, though rough on the outside, still managed to retain a soft center. He knew something was going on with Vida, but the details were lacking. He wasn’t the kind of person to pry into other people’s business (unless it was something to do with fae), so he’d let it lie, just trying to help her out with Luz wherever he could—wherever she’d let him. But finally she called, the tremble in her voice telling Rhett everything he needed to know to get his ass over to her apartment as soon as possible.
The warden frowned, seeing far too much of himself in the way she shouldered her stress and let it eat away at her foundation, like a stiff breeze might blow her over, or the wrong thing being said might send her into a spiral. He’d grown past it for the most part, but there was certainly a time in his life when he’d felt as bad as she looked.
“Don’t thank me,” he reminded her gently, but his voice lacked the typical bite it had when he chastised Emilio. He was never that way with her, not for as long as they’d known each other, and he certainly wouldn’t start now. “‘Course it’s important. Glad you know I’m here for you, kiddo.” His concern deepened, furrowing his brows. “Gonna tell me what’s goin’ on?”
—
“Fuck.” Vida hissed, letting out a sigh and shaking her head. Her knee began bouncing as she leaned back into her chair. It didn’t matter how long she’d been in White Crest, the thank yous still got her. Her daughter even reminded her against it. However, Luz wasn’t there to remind her. Luz was at Rosa’s a couple doors over. She avoided seeing her when she could. The young girl didn’t need to watch her mother deteriorate.
Vida just nodded this time, brushing her hair out of her face with her hands. “You’ve always been here.” She nodded. She loved the man. He was like family to her. Always a breath of fresh air but grounded when he needed to be. She knew he’d been through his own fair share of shit.
“Okay.” She sat up again, fidgeting with her hands. “I…somethings going on. I don’t know what it is Rhett,” her voice was quivering now. She was angry with herself for not being able to hold it together. She was angry that she was in this mess in the first place.
“I think I did something. Something stupid. It must’ve been something I said or something someone did to me and god I really hope you believe me because I’m losing my mind and I’m not all the way here…” Vida said, tapping her temple and letting out a shaky sigh.
“I shut down. It comes randomly. I have these weird…visions. Moments. I don’t know. It’s like I’m someone else for five minutes and I always end up dying. I’m always in Etla, always in a different body. I’m always passing out, I’m scared to sleep. I’m scared to really be around anyone.” She chewed on her lip and looked at him, vulnerable as ever. “I’m terrified, Rhett.”
—
All he could really do was listen quietly, taking in what she was saying and trying to make sense of it. Sure, he was the last person who’d deny that weird shit was happening—hell, the whole world seemed to be crumbling to pieces around them. So whatever she was going through, of course he believed her, even if neither of them could explain it.
“Talkin’ to the king ah’ not bein’ all the way here,” Rhett offered with a near-humorless chuckle, his concern overriding the typical sass that would’ve otherwise rolled off his tongue. Her experience sounded… familiar, somewhat. Perhaps in a less visceral sense, but he’d certainly experienced the slaughter of his own family from all sorts of perspectives in his dreams. Even if that was just nightmares, and if whatever Vida was dealing with was more malignant than that, he could still empathize.
“Sounds like y’got plenty reason to be scared, bird, that ain’t a bad thing.” He cocked his head to the side, lips pursed in thought for a moment. “... did anything weird happen right before this started? Can you remember?”
—
Vida gave him a pained smile at his attempt to lighten the mood, tears streaming down her cheeks. “How could it not be a bad thing?” She asked, not meaning to sound rude but she really could not see the positive in it. She’d been to hell and back in a week and a half and every day got darker and more agonizing.
“I…” Vida racked her brain for memories. She wanted to say she could pinpoint exactly what had gotten her that far, yet she waved things off. “That night was a bit of a blur.” She admitted, her hands intertwining as she squeezed them together to try and ground herself. “It was my wedding anniversary and I went out. There were so many people out there. I either talked to everyone or no one. I don’t know,” Vida admitted. She still underestimated the power of words. Even with what she’d witnessed.
“I don’t know,” she said quietly, hanging her head slightly in defeat. “I’m just. I’ll be fine. I can handle it. I just don’t know what I did to deserve this.”
—
“Too many people in this world’re afraid of the wrong things,” Rhett explained, resting a hand on her shoulder. “M’sayin’ it’s good ‘cause you got your priorities in order, is all.” Falling silent and allowing her to struggle through her piece, Rhett felt his concern grow stronger.
“Ah now, don’t be actin’ like it’s nothin’. Don’t be pickin’ up that habit from our dear Emilio. You can handle it, but you needn’t do it alone, Vida.” This could have been any number of things. The concern over having said something to someone to cause it immediately made him worry that it was some sort of fae bond gone awry, but he simply didn’t have enough information to go on. “N’ ya likely didn’t deserve it. This sorta thing doesn’t really happen to those that deserve it. Where did you go? Was there anyone there that night that you knew?”
—
Vida nodded slightly, and looked up at him with a half smile on her lips. As the tears slipped down her cheeks, it was nice to know that he was still looking out for her. There was still hope, even with the world ending and the madness infecting her thoughts. “I guess you’re right.” She murmured. “Than—“ she cut herself off and nodded again. “Appreciate you.”
“You’re right. You’re right. Tienes razón. I don’t have to. I just feel like…” she’d been on her own for years. After the massacre, it was just her and her daughter. Luz had become the reason for living. She’d become all of it. Getting to White Crest, settling her down, it all hadn’t or couldn’t have been for nothing. “I just still feel like it’s me against the world sometimes.” Vida shook her head and let out a slight sigh, chewing on the inside of her cheek. “I have you, Emilio, Teo. So many people. But at the end of the day, I’m mom. Nobody else.”
“…” Vida thought long and hard about what came next. However, her memory was still fuzzy. “There was something about a wish. I don’t know if I’m making it up or if I was just drunk and it was the truth? I don’t know. It’s all fuzzy. But I remember the face…vaguely. Very vague. The name is hard. Very hard.”
—
“Mom’s a hard badge to wear,” Rhett agreed, dropping to one knee in front of her and taking one of her hands in his own. “Takes a village though, to raise a young’n. Let that village help you. Get out of this fuckin’ place and bring that village with ya, got it?” Reaching out to brush her hair from her face, the old warden looked deadly serious—a far cry from his typical jovial (if not a little unpredictable) nature.
“A wish?” Didn’t sound like something that was his purview, if that was the case. And who even knew if there was time to fix something like that? “Hm. I’ll look into it. You just… swear you’re gonna put this place in the rearview, aye?” He had a date, a location, and an inkling. He’d gone on less before.
—
Vida nodded. The warden was right. Mom was a hard badge to wear. But he was right. It took a village. And Vida was fortunate that he was a grand part of that village. He had always been a part of Liz’s village. Ever since Etla when she was first born and he had been around when she’d been raising her in the roots of her hometown.
He’d always be a part of Liz’s village. He’d always be there for Vida and Luz. She knew that. He’d get on it and he’d get through it. He’d protect them. She was confident they’d be okay.
“Okay, okay yes. Yes,” his look was enough to get her to get going. He’d never gone back on his word. Never had he lied, never had he let her down.
She nodded. “Yes. Yeah. Yes. I will. I’ll see you Rhett. I’ll see you so soon.”
She gave his hand a small squeeze, and for the first time in weeks she gave the tiniest hopeful smile. It would be okay.
TIMING: The hours leading up to midnight, December 3rd.
SUMMARY: Rhett makes his final stand.
—
Like the first cracks in a dam as it began to break beneath the pressure, townsfolk were standing on their porches and staring up at the sky as it seemed to rip in half. It started with just a few families who decided they didn’t want to wait this thing out and began to load up their vehicles. Once their neighbors took notice, the panic started to spread like wildfire. It was quiet in the beginning. A few leaks turned into a small trickle. That trickle turned into a stream.
Rhett walked down the street, rifle propped on his shoulder. Everyone was too scared to notice him, too busy to care. The few that did pay him any mind only spared a few seconds before deciding that he was yet another reason to get the fuck out of the town.
The stream began to babble as it picked up speed, the voices of people yelling inside their homes as they tried to gather all their important belongings and pets, the sense of dread and impending doom hanging heavy over the streets like the clouds that were fit to burst that rolled in on the wind.
The earth rumbled and the voices grew louder. It was a river, now. Rapids formed at the edges the more people filled the streets in their cars, taillights creating a sea of red against Rhett’s back as he walked farther into town. His spot in the circle that needed to be made. Their final stand against whatever this place had in store for them.
He thought of his brother, Emilio. Of the family he’d left behind not that long ago, with tears in their eyes and desperation in their hearts. He thought of the family he’d lost a few years ago in Etla, and the one decades before that. He thought of the lutin that had driven him mad, the ghost he’d been chasing for the better part of twenty years… to what end? Not this one. Not the one he’d chosen today.
A vicious snarl met his ears and he snapped his head to the side just in time to see something large and slimy slip from a tear in reality, plopping down onto the concrete. Screams met the warden’s ears, both in response to the abhorrent creature and the lightning that ripped through the sky with a thunderous crack of energy. Lowering his rifle from his shoulder, the hunter grinned. Emilio and Teddy must’ve prayed for him.
The rain came suddenly, the clouds releasing their torrential downpour all at once. It nearly fell sideways with the hurricane-caliber winds that ripped through the area. Strange lights surrounded him, but his focus was on the creature at hand. He took aim and fired. Another wave of screaming started as people frantically tried to get away from them both.
What time is it? He checked his pocket watch as the creature thrashed in pain. Plenty of time. The warden took aim again, walking closer as he fired. The monster lunged for him, but Rhett was ready, dropping to one knee and whipping the knife from the holster on his leg, slicing the beast down its underside as it sailed over the top of him. The world around him trembled, a deep and terrible rumbling that made him feel like the ground beneath his feet could give at any moment. A death rattle slipped past bestial jaws, innards painting the pavement.
—
The blood of monsters he’d never seen nor heard tales of stained his blade and his jacket, but the hunter was happy for it. Happy for the distraction as he carved his path into town, past all the broken and fractured parts of their reality as it started to fold in on itself. The rain had given way to snow, but through the falling flakes, Rhett could see a waterspout on the ocean’’s horizon. More than one, actually. This sure was cracking up to be one hell of an apocalypse.
Marching on through the ever-heightening drifts, Rhett finally reached his destination. He could barely see the clocktower from here, and could only pray that the others had made it to their positions as well, but he was here. This was it. Another glance at his pocket watch told him there was less than an hour to go. The man stood alone in the blizzard, grateful to see the streets were empty. Light still illuminated some windows here and there in the neighborhood, and he hoped that those people had simply forgotten to turn them off in their hurry to leave… god forbid they’d decided to ride it out. He could go check, but he dared not move now that he was here. That was just asking for something stupid to happen that would hold him up and ruin this whole thing.
If it even worked… they had no guarantee that it would. This could all be for naught, but they had to try.
Now began the waiting.
The earth shuddered, and with a creak and a groan, Rhett watched it begin to collapse. “Fuck.” The buildings just a couple streets away began to topple over and sink out of view, and the dark sky was filled with a cacophony of brick, steel, wood, and cement splitting and crashing down. Great cracks appeared, ripping along the middle of the street where Rhett stood, spider-webbing out from the clock tower in the center of town and racing for its edges. They were massive enough to swallow cars whole, and Rhett hoped that everyone who was going to get out of here was already well beyond the town limits, or they’d be eaten alive by the earth.
In fact, it seemed like he might be, too.
Monsters still spilled from the kaleidoscope sky, heaving their large, misshapen bodies toward the warden, their roaring and hissing almost drowning out the sound of the whole neighborhood crumbling around him. Rifle poised and eyes wide, he tried to keep them at bay for as long as he could, watching with genuine fear as some of them were sucked into the widening sinkhole by the desperate, clawing grip of gravity.
BONG!
His attention turned to the clock tower, noticing that it was leaning slightly to one side. He shot another beast that got too close, reloading his rifle and resisting the urge to move. Feet planted firmly, he could feel each vibration as another piece of the town fell into the sinkhole.
BONG!
A four-legged thing that seemed to have hundreds of mouths ate the ammunition fired its way, and Rhett took a single step back. “Shit.”
BONG!
More shots didn’t do the trick, the abomination’s anatomy absorbing them with almost no ill-effects. Huffing out a breath, Rhett tossed the rifle aside and drew his knife, readying for the strike.
BONG!
The thing leaped at him, pinning him to the ground where he stood. All the mouths that faced him directly broke into toothy grins, black ooze leaking from their gums.
BONG!
At least it wouldn’t last long. Seven more seconds? Rhett could handle seven more seconds.
BONG!
The many maws bit at him in unison, some grappling an arm, the others a thigh—the beast pressed itself down onto him and used the mouths on its underside to rip and chew through his clothing to get at the flesh beneath.
BONG!
Rhett closed his eyes, mouth agape as a cry was ripped from him. Five.
BONG!
Four. The snow around him was stained red and black as the dimension-straddler feasted upon his body.
BONG!
Three. Fuck’s sake, three more seconds, just hold on— His vision blurred and the pain became too great to even vocalize. He fell silent, gasping for breath as jagged teeth tore into his chest and filled his lungs with blood.
BONG!
Two.
BONG!
One…
BONG!
The ground began to sag. He was going to fall into the pit with this thing still chewing on his bones. Good riddance.
BONG!
Wait, what— The thirteenth toll came as a surprise, but he didn’t have the capacity to ponder it. Dark brown eyes glazed over as his heart refused to beat a moment more, and the earth opened up to devour them both.
You did it. It worked. I’m okay. Been okay for a little while now. Wasn’t sure it would stick but…I’m with my family. Been in contact with Milio. He’s safe.
I’m with Luz. She wants to hug you and thank you for helping us out. Teo is back too. Everything is good. On our way out.
Where will you be when you leave? I want to see you. Thank you Appreciate you in person. Por favor.
[ pm ] Glad to hear it. Give 'er a hug for me. Afraid I can't see you, ah... I'm stayin' behind. Helpin' out. Heading deeper into town, now.
Take care of yourself, Vida. Tell Luz I love 'er. Love you too. Be good.
TIMING: sometime before midnight.
PARTIES: @eldritchaccident @ironcladrhett & @monstersfear
SUMMARY: teddy and emilio prepare to leave town, and rhett informs them that he won't be joining them.
CONTENT: sibling death, mentions of past suicide ideation
“Metzli’s going to meet us at the edge of town,” Emilio announced, slipping his phone into his pocket with a grimace. “They’ve got some kind of a caravan set up. Figure it’s safer to travel in groups.” Not to mention he knew Teddy would want reassurance that Metzli made it out. The hunter might not admit it, but he wouldn’t mind that reassurance himself. He’d made a list in the back of his mind, had people he was keeping track of throughout this whole evacuation process. Ari, Kaden, Metzli, Nicole, Vida.
Next to him now were two people near the top of said list. There was some relief in having both Teddy and Rhett where he could see them, some quiet factor that made it a little easier to breathe. Emilio might not be as self aware as some people might want him to be, but he knew he had… issues here. A town falling apart, everyone he loved inside of it… It was a painfully familiar scenario. Last time this happened, he’d walked away with nothing. He’d saved no one. He wasn’t going to let that happen again.
“We should move fast. This shit’s going under quick, and we can’t be here when it does.” He motioned for the other two men to follow him quickly, eyes darting around to take in the darkened sky and crumbling town.
—
Packing had been finished for a good few weeks at this point. Teddy didn't know the day or the hour of the fucking apocalypse so they had to be prepared. Besides, it wasn't like either himself or Emilio were terribly unfamiliar with living out of boxes or bags. Most of the bigger shit was in a storage container a few towns away, they had a carry on sized bag each to hold them over in the interim.
The biggest trouble the florist had been dealing with was keeping track of Zazzy. The normally quite lazy couch potato of a raiju runt had gotten more and more agitated and energetic as the end approached. In a way it was nice. Gave them about as much of a heads-up as they were going to get. But now that it was time Teddy was struggling to keep the wormy zoomie little fuzzball in his arms. Suddenly wishing he had got the little guy a carrier crate but he kinda figured that the raiju wouldn't like that very much. Oops.
Maybe it was nice though. To have something to focus on that took quite a bit of strain to do so. Had his mind had moments to wander, surely Teddy would've gotten stuck in a loop of worry and stomach churning anxiety. As it was. He could hardly take his eyes off the cat/dog/weasel thing. Any chances he had were all spent on Emilio. Convinced that his man was going to go off and do some last minute heroics that was going to get him killed one way or another. One arm to hold Zazz, one hand to continuously anchor himself to the hunter.
Rhett had just pulled in and popped up to the apartment too, he probably had the easiest job of packing between all of them. Perks of living mobily, Teddy supposed. He was about to make a comment to that end when Emilio spoke up, and confirmed what he'd been thinking. They were together now. Time to get out. And make sure everyone they cared about followed suit.
—
As they exited the building, Rhett’s gaze followed a similar path to Emilio’s, scanning over the fucked up sky while his resolve hardened. This couldn’t be allowed to spread. The boys, Ari, Vida… all of them had to get out and be safe. Wasn’t any point in claiming to be a protector if you weren’t ready to lay down your life. That said, there had to be some left. Younger blood, the kind that warmed a heart enough to let it be given to another. That wasn’t on the table for Rhett anymore, but Emilio still had time. Still had hope. Teddy gave him that—Teddy and all the other people his little brother had met in this town.
Had to protect that.
Bringing up the rear, Rhett placed a hand on Emilio’s shoulder as they all reached the Fungi Wagon, urging him to turn around. “Here,” he muttered, digging the keys from his pocket with one hand and taking Emilio’s in the other, forcing them into his palm.
When Teddy got the passenger side door open, he’d notice that all the personal junk that used to take up the space in the back had been fully cleared out. In fact, other than the painted mural that still clung to its metal sides, every trace of Rhett had been scrubbed from the vehicle. The man himself looked up to meet Emilio’s gaze, the wilted smile on his lips conveying his hope that he wouldn’t have to say what came next. As practiced as he was with goodbyes, this wasn’t one he’d expected to have to make a second time.
—
Teddy’s hand gripped his tightly, and Emilio understood why. It wasn’t just a passive thing here, wasn’t just a show of affection. Emilio had a bad habit of going to dark places, and no one knew that better than Teddy. It was only a few months ago that the florist had been desperately trying to convince Emilio to keep living, only a few months ago that Rhett had dragged him away from his desire to stop and done everything he could to keep him separate from it. And Emilio would be lying if he said those feelings were entirely gone. He’d be lying if he said he thought they ever could be, after everything. But right now, he was choosing something else. With Teddy’s hand in his, it felt just a little easier to do.
Rhett’s hand on his shoulder pulled him from his thoughts, and Emilio glanced to his brother with a quizzical expression on his face. He took the keys robotically, brows furrowing together. “Really must be the end of the world if you’re letting me drive,” he joked, huffing a laugh as he slipped the keychain around his finger and flipped the key absently.
But then Rhett met his eye. Then he got that goddamn look on his face, and there was a pit in Emilio’s stomach that was bottomless and gaping, a feeling that hollowed him out so quickly it should have been impossible. The smile slipped off his face, the keys going still in his hand as he stopped swinging them so abruptly that they hit against his knuckles with a quiet clatter.
“No,” he said, the word little more than a breath of air. “No. Absolutely fucking not, Rhett, I’m not kidding. No.”
—
With the raiju placed in a ball of blankets in the front seat, content with the warmth from the car to keep it still, Teddy had a moment to breathe. To think. And a moment is all it was, cause from the other side of the van something of a commotion stirred. Somehow between that and all that was missing from the vehicle, the meaning was partially lost on the demon. The florist hurried to the other side though, taking up his spot right next to Emilio once again. There was a heat beginning to radiate from the hunter as he got more and more amped up.
“Wait–wait– what’s happening?” Social cues weren’t Teddy’s forte, but it was obvious something was wrong. That achey thrum began to worm its way up in his chest. Instinctively he put an arm around the slayer, but his eyes stayed firmly on Rhett. There was a play going on around him and he hadn’t been given the script. It really shouldn’t have been that hard to figure out. But it was the end of the fucking world and the man had more than a few things on his mind that were perhaps taking up a bit of his cognitive processing. “Rhett– why…what are you planning?”
—
Of course he argued. Rhett had expected as much, steeling himself against the fear that started creeping into Emilio’s expression. Teddy came ‘round the other side of the van, joining them with a bemused look on his face before asking what was going on. The warden let his gaze flick over to Teddy, needing a moment to be free of the pain he was causing Emilio.
“Can’t come with,” he answered softly. “Some people here need my help.” With a thick swallow, he glanced back to Emilio. “This is it, kiddo. The big one. Need to make myself useful.”
—
“He’s planning on staying behind,” Emilio spat, because for him, grief always came with anger. Anger towards the situation that left them with an unwinnable battle. Angry at the world for taking and taking and taking until he had nothing left to give. Angry at Rhett for making this choice, for doing a stupid, heroic thing when Emilio desperately needed him to be a coward. Angry at himself for not seeing any of it coming.
And the anger wasn’t real. He knew that, too. He knew that the anger was a defense mechanism, a fire built in a wasteland to keep him warm. He wasn’t angry at Rhett or at himself or even at the world at large. But admitting that meant admitting to what was lurking underneath. Admitting that meant recognizing how small he felt, how scared. And Emilio couldn’t do that.
So he glared in Rhett’s direction, fire burning behind his eyes to distract from the aching in his chest, and he told himself that that was better. He told himself it was easier this way. “You’re a fucking asshole,” he said, taking a step towards his brother and grabbing him by the front of his shirt, knuckles white with his grip. “You think, what, you make the sacrifice play after months of telling me I’m not allowed to? Some people need your help? I need you, you prick. What about that?” His throat burned, and his vision blurred in a way he pretended was rage instead of tears threatening to spill over.
“Fuck this. Fuck you. Get in the fucking van, Everett.” Please, he added silently, the word unspoken but present in his expression all the same.
—
"Wh–" Fuck. Now that it'd been said aloud it was so obvious what it all had been pointing to. Teddy shifted uncomfortably, at a total loss of how to respond. "Y-your–?" Leaving. Or staying rather. Staying there in the middle of assured destruction to save the rest of the world. Hunters died to protect others. That's something Emilio had said over and over and over. You don't get old in that line of work. You don't get happily ever afters or even the joy of retiring. Rhett was the closest thing Teddy had ever seen that seemed to contradict that statement. But now he was–
He was shaking. Teddy knew that much, but everything seemed so numb outside of his hands it was hard to feel anything else. He gripped tighter and tighter onto Emilio, knowing that this had to have been a thousand times worse for him. Teddy only just got to know the old warden. But that was Emilio's brother. He was supposed to be a fixture in their life. Together. More weird breakfasts and old stories and time. But Rhett had other plans it seemed.
—
“You’ve got people,” Rhett said sadly. “Y’haven’t needed me for a long time, now. So here’s what’s gonna happen.” Still very much trapped in Emilio’s grip, the warden brought a hand to the side of his neck and braced it there. “You two are gonna get as far away from here as you can, hear me? Real far. Don’t take any fuckin’ chances.” He glanced to Teddy, perhaps as a silent plea to help talk some sense into Emilio, because he knew this would be an uphill battle. “Me? Can’t back out. If I bail, they don’t have enough people.” He paused. “If they don’t have enough people, we all die.” His other hand gave Teddy’s shoulder a squeeze before moving it to now frame Emilio’s pained face between them both.
“Listen t’me, little brother. I’m old. I ain’t got much time left in this world, anyway. We both know that. Let me… let me go out doin’ somethin’ that’ll help everyone, not just… whatever makes me feel better in the moment. Whatever dampens the rage and the hurt… just lemme do this, kid. For you. For Ted. For all the people in this damn town who’d cry at your funeral. Please.”
—
“You’re my people.” His voice broke on the last word, just a little. Emilio hadn’t felt like a child in decades now, hadn’t even really felt like a child when he was a child, but in this moment, he was eight years old again. He was staring in wonder as his mother and uncle dragged their brother into the house and laid him on the kitchen table, flinching as too-loud voices ordered him to sit with the bleeding man while they went to get help, struck with the realization of what help meant when they returned with the priest instead of the doctor.
Hunters were supposed to have their lives cut off at the knees, were built to die long before their hair went gray and their skin began to wrinkle and Emilio knew that. Emilio had known that all his life, had watched it happen. He’d seen his mother and siblings dead in the street, had watched his nephew die before the kid was old enough to know what dying meant. And somehow, he’d thought Rhett was different. Somehow, he’d convinced himself that the warden was above all that, that Rhett would outlive him and that there’d be relief in, for once, being the one to leave instead of the one to get left. But Rhett’s hand was gripping the side of his neck in a way that meant goodbye now, and it didn’t make sense even though it did. It was impossible even though it wasn’t. Every inch of it ached.
“No,” he said again, because what else was there to say? What else was there to do? “No. I’m not — I’m not going to leave you. I can’t. I can’t do that again.” It was an ugly mirror image of the last moments in Etla; the chaos, the anguish, the grief. People he loved dying while he made it out. Was this how it was always going to be? Was Emilio always the one who survived, no matter how little he wanted to? Maybe this was his punishment, he thought, the retribution for all the sins he’d stacked up under his belt. To lose Rhett in a way that seemed to echo the way he’d lost everyone else was the kind of thing just cruel enough for God to come up with.
Desperately, Emilio looked to Teddy, eyes pleading with his boyfriend to do… something. To drag Rhett into the damn van, kicking and screaming. To make some demon deal that would tie his brother to life instead of allowing him to die. To fix the unfixable, somehow.
—
Both sets of eyes were on him now and Teddy was just left stammering. Of course he wanted Rhett to stay, of course he wanted to stop whatever the hell was going through the old man's head, let someone else take the torch. But Rhett was looking at him too, pleading him just as much to tell Emilio that this was how it had to be. Teddy didn't know though, how true that was. How could they just agree to let him run into the flames? Even if it meant the rest of the world wouldn't catch fire.
"Isn't there anything else? There's gotta be uhh–" He swallowed, hard. Feeling the weight of expectations from either side of the growing chasm. "Someone else or…"
—
Recognizing the spot he’d put Teddy in, Rhett closed his eyes and shook his head. “There’s no talkin’ me out of it, lads. But yes, there is someone else… and they’re waitin’ on me.” He let his hands fall back to his sides, beginning the slow retreat that would eventually end with him turning his back on the pair. “I’m sorry, Emilio. Don’t wanna do this to you, but… couldn’t let someone else go in my stead. Wouldn’t be right. This is my job, and I’ve been doin’ fuck all, lately.” It was because he was suddenly afraid of losing the man again, afraid of abandoning him by dying doing something reckless… which felt silly, now. It went against everything he’d been saying, because more than anything else, he knew he had to throw himself on the knife so that Emilio wouldn’t do it himself. There was something else, too. Something he’d never said aloud, but this seemed like the right moment to give it a shot.
“I just want you t’be… proud of me.” His voice wavered as he spoke, the instinct to withdraw taking over. “Know I ain’t all here, haven’t been since I was a kid. Know I do a lot of stupid shit. Say stupid things. No kinda role model. Violent, angry, spiteful.” He dragged his gaze up to meet Emilio’s, the tiredness settling over his worn features. “Don’t want you to fall too deep in that hole. Be more like Ted, not like me. Lemme go out doin’ somethin’ a good person would do. Remember me like that, maybe, not… not all the other shit. Maybe.” His voice dropped to a whisper on the final word, head drooping shamefully.
“... you need to leave.”
—
Teddy was trying, just like Emilio was. But Rhett had always been a stubborn old bastard, for as long as Emilio had known him. Once he’d set his mind to something, it was always damn near impossible to change it. It was one of the many ways the two hunters were alike, one of the many things that had drawn them together since the first day Rhett wandered into Etla. In the past, it had always seemed like a good thing. But in this moment? It was the worst thing in the goddamn world.
“I am proud of you,” he said, and Christ, Emilio had never been one to beg but this sure as hell sounded like it. He’d faced down torture and unimaginable pain, had gone up against a fucking ancient demon without begging for shit, but he was pleading like a damn kid now. Every inch of his face was pleading desperately for Rhett to change his mind, just this once. He knew a lost cause when he saw one, but he’d never been particularly good at accepting them for what they were. It was almost funny, in a cruel way; he’d lost so much now that, at this point, you’d think he’d be used to it.
He shook his head, breath hitching. “You said I could go first,” he replied stubbornly, and he knew he sounded like a child but he was beyond caring. “You said that. I can’t —” He looked back to Teddy again, shaking his head. “I can’t leave him.”
—
That was just Emilio’s fear talking. Rhett knew it well, and knew that this goodbye wouldn’t end in hugs and tearful smiles. No, this goodbye would be wretched, the most wretched he’d ever created of his own volition, and yet… he had to do it. “I know I did,” the warden muttered, untangling himself from Emilio’s grip and taking a step back. “Turns out I was lyin’. I’m sorry.” It’s all he could do, now. Apologize. He’d said his piece, and Emilio would either accept or reject it, in his own time. He’d hate him for his sacrifice, or he’d go through the stages of grief and see that Rhett was just doing it to protect him.
“You can leave me, and you will,” the warden argued, his voice low. Another quick glance up at the darkening sky told him that the time was drawing near. Still hours away, but he wanted them to be hours from this place before everything went to shit. “Runnin’ outta time. Not gonna argue ‘bout it anymore. Take the wagon, go join the caravan, n’ get outta here. Go live your lives. And goddamnit, be careful. Don’t make me die for nothin’.”
—
As Rhett pulled away, Emilio’s hands gripped the air in his absence, as if his fingers weren’t quite ready to admit that there was nothing left for them to hold onto. They opened and closed, fist clenching and unclenching absently in the way it always did when he was left with nothing to fight. It was so much harder like this. When the turmoil existed nowhere but inside of him, he didn’t know what to do with it. He didn’t know how to breathe around it. “Don’t,” he said quietly, still pleading. Still angry and still not. “Don’t apologize. Just — Just get in the van. We’ll figure something else out, like Teddy said. Please.”
But Rhett’s voice was firm, his eyes darting up to the sky and the way it darkened around them. When all this was said and done, would it be a sunny day? Emilio found himself filled with a surge of bitterness at the thought, found himself unreasonably angry towards a sun that would rise tomorrow even if Rhett was no longer around to see it. That was always the hardest part about loss. It wasn’t the moment you lost something — it was the moment after. It was the one after that.
“Don’t make me do this,” he begged. “Please, Rhett. No me dejen solo.”
—
“You’re not alone,” Rhett answered, nodding at Teddy. “You’ve got a whole caravan waitin’ on you.” And to dispel any remaining hope Emilio or Teddy had of convincing him, he went on to add, “I’m not gettin’ in that van, you know that. We can either say goodbye, or…” His throat felt tight and his breathing was weak, still afraid of that worst-case scenario. “... or I can just walk away. Don’t… really want it to end like that, though.”
—
It was tense, everything ached in a way that felt like they were being sent through a meat grinder but slowly and in reverse. Teddy knew what it was like to not get a goodbye. Knew the empty hollow pain that haunted you forever afterwards. Knew Emilio wouldn't ever come close to forgiving himself if he didn't say something. But he also knew how hard it was for the slayer to express himself. All he could do was hold tight to his hand, but give him a nudge forward. Not quite resigned to the idea of letting this happen, but not wanting to let Emilio give himself another thing to beat himself up about.
—
There were moments where it felt like the goddamn world was closing in around you. Emilio was no stranger to them, had had more than his fair share. In Etla, in New Orleans, in that cave just outside of town, in his own apartment. There were moments where the world was both too big and too small, where everything was a contradiction that seemed impossible to grapple with. There were moments you could never get out from under, and this was one of them. Emilio would live in this moment for the rest of his life, he knew, would carry it with him in the same overflowing stack where there were bodies rotting on a Mexican street and smoke rising up from a warehouse where no one had died.
Rhett was right; Emilio knew he wasn’t getting in the van. He’d known it since the beginning, since the moment those keys were pressed into his hands. The ending was already written down. There was no changing it. And he was angry, even if he wasn’t. There was rage burning in his chest, even if it wasn’t rage at all.
There were so many people he’d never said goodbye to. His mother, his father, his siblings, his nephew. Silas. So many names on a list so full of regret that it was a wonder there was ever any left for anyone else. The idea of adding Rhett’s to it, the idea of losing him without whatever tiny semblance of peace a goodbye might offer…
“Don’t.” He choked on the word like a physical thing, like the lump in his throat was made up of something more tangible than grief. “Don’t just walk away. I don’t — I don’t want that.” He reached up with the hand Teddy wasn’t holding in a death grip, scrubbed it across his face and pretended it didn’t come back wet. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to be mad at you. I don’t know what else to be.”
—
“I know.” The statement was simple, but it said a lot. Anger was easiest, they both knew that. Facing the rest of it was… difficult. Complicated. And always, no matter how hard they tried, they were poisoned with a little bit of anger. “You can be mad. Hell, I’d be mad, too. But it doesn’t change what needs t’happen.” Closing the small distance that had grown between them, Rhett gracelessly pulled Emilio into a hug. “Take some comfort in knowin’ I’m goin’ out how I want, eh? Doin’ a good thing. Bein’ a good person.” He pulled back, framing the slayer’s face in his hands once more, a sad, tearful smile blooming on his lips.
Damn, wouldn’t you know it? He’d been wrong after all.
“I love you, little brother. And I’m gonna do whatever I have to to protect you. Right now, that means makin’ sure this bloody doomsday bullshit stays local.” Rhett looked to Teddy as he released the hunter, the fondness in his expression only growing. “Take care of him for me,” he muttered as he leaned in to give Teddy a hug as well, holding for a few extra beats before moving back again.
“Right. Well then, off you go.” An emotional sniff followed the dismissal as he gave a half-hearted wave of his arm.
—
Ted could hardly come up with something that felt right in that moment. Instead he nodded grimly at Rhett's request. Tried to slip on a smile, and squeezed the old man with all the love and warmth he wished he'd been able to give his brother so many years ago. It hurt to say goodbye, sure. But at least they were able to do so. It wouldn't just be another mystery, or start of a cycle of revenge and grief. After all, what were they going to do about Rhett's killer? The town was already destroying itself. The best they could hope was to be on the outside to watch it burn.
—
If not for Teddy’s hand gripping his, Emilio would have fought it more. He would have dug his heels into the ground, would have refused to leave his brother to die alone in a crumbling town that neither of them had ever really made a home out of. Emilio was a stubborn man, loyal to a fault more often than not, and the idea of leaving Rhett here was so unfathomable that if not for the tragedy of it all, it might have been a laughable concept. But Teddy was holding onto him in a way that said he wasn’t leaving unless Emilio did, and Teddy was too good a man to be allowed to die for nothing.
Gripping Rhett tightly in the embrace, Emilio buried his head in the warden’s shoulder for a moment, hating himself for the dampness left there when he pulled away. “You’re one of the best men I’ve ever met,” he said, “you fucking asshole. Doing the goddamn hero shit.” Dying so Emilio wouldn’t have to, despite knowing that there would always be a part of Emilio that wanted it.
“I love you,” he muttered, the words sticking to the back of his throat, coming out garbled and feeling wrong even if they were probably the truest thing he’d ever said. Saying it hurt. Every bit of this hurt, from the tearful smile on Rhett’s face to the way he hugged Teddy just as tightly as he had Emilio. In another world, a kinder one, they could have been a family for a little longer than they had. They could have had something bigger. Something better. Something whole. But this world wasn’t built for things like that.
An unexpected panic built up in his chest as Rhett waved with a sense of finality that Emilio wasn’t ready for. Desperation creeped back in, and he shook his head again. “No. No, I’m not — I’m not ready. I can’t go yet. There has to be more time.”
—
It would be cruel to let Emilio know just how much his protesting was breaking Rhett’s heart, so the warden stuffed a cork so deep in that bottle that it wouldn’t be able to to spill a single drop, right up to the end. Turn it off. Turn it off. Just like he always had.
“More time’s only gonna make it harder. ‘Sides… we don’t have much left.” He offered another lopsided smirk, masking how badly this hurt. “Get outta here, ‘fore I gotta stuff you in the van myself. I’ll stand in the middle of the road and wave all dramatic, like a movie, eh?” He listed his arms again, this time giving a larger, more insistent ushering motion with both of them. “See you two in the next life. Make the best outta this one, first.”
—
If they waited until he was ready, they’d never leave. Emilio knew that. He’d stand here until the world fell down around them, would die and be buried and rot in the ground for a hundred years and still not be ready for this. There were some things, he thought, you could never be ready for. There were some things you could never be okay with. This was one of them.
Bringing a trembling hand to his head, he scrubbed it across his face and nodded, feeling a little more unsteady on his feet than he had in a long, long time. He pulled Rhett in for another hug, fists gripping the back of the warden’s shirt tightly. “You’re an asshole,” he muttered into the man’s neck, the words coming out a little more broken than he’d like to admit. “I love you.”
—
Calling on pride while so much sorrow swam around one’s heart wasn’t fair, or even kind. But Teddy felt a swell of it nonetheless. At Emilio’s ability to speak his mind, at Rhett’s stalwart ability to go through with this despite how much it must hurt. The florist had no idea of what would await the warden at the end of this road. What would await them at their own destination. Too many unknowns. The only thing he knew for sure. The only thing Teddy knew for sure was that they had to keep going. That he was going to do his best to do exactly what Rhett said and take care of Emilio. No matter what.
As if to seal that promise, Teddy moved in and kissed Em on the cheek. Softly smiling through the heartache. He turned towards the man, the hero, the fucking saint of batshit baddassery. “Thank you for everything… Bringing him to me. Always being there when we needed you. You’re amazing, you know that Rhett?”
—
A breathy chuckle managed to squeeze itself from his aching lungs as Emilio called him an asshole for the second—third?—time. He returned the hug fiercely, ruffling the slayer’s hair as they reluctantly pulled apart. “Love you more, ya stupid fuckin’ muppet.” Throwing a wink at him, Rhett smiled, a little less sad this time, seeing the way Teddy slipped effortlessly into that supporting role. And then complimented him, which drew forth an exasperated scoff.
“Nah, nah… m’just an daft idiot who’s good with weapons.” Slipping the rifle from his back, he flicked the safety off. “Do me a favor… pray that some weird beasties come tumblin’ outta all these rips in reality, eh? Could use a little excitement for the last ride.” His grin widened, returning to that familiar, reckless type of insanity that was his whole personality. “And hey! Be good to my wagon! If you total ‘er, I’m gonna haunt both your fuckin’ arses!” Rhett moved with finality now, bracing the rifle in front of him as the storm rolled in overhead and thunder boomed between the clouds. The plea for them to just get out of there was quarantined to his eyes, the rest of him looking terribly ready for a fight.
—
“Haunt us anyway.” It was only half a joke, and the way his voice wobbled betrayed as much. It was a stupid notion, of course, because exorcising Rhett in order to keep him from becoming a poltergeist would only mean losing him twice instead of once, but God, Emilio would have killed for something to cling to. It wasn’t enough to have a worn old van and a rushed goodbye. Nothing would ever be enough.
His legs remained locked in place, refusing to move for a moment in spite of the way he’d already agreed to go. Walking away from this, leaving while Rhett was alive and animated and knowing this was the last time he’d ever see him in such a way, it felt impossible. It was too much; they were asking too much of him. He glanced back to Teddy, throat burning, trying to communicate that he needed the florist to take that first step towards the van, trying to say without words that Emilio needed an extra push if he was going to be expected to climb this mountain.
—
With a heaved sigh, Teddy nodded and curled his arms around Emilio. Held him tight for just a moment before ushering both of them towards the van. "Want me to drive, love?" It was half a question, half an announcement as he was already going for the keys. The hunter didn't seem in a particularly good headspace to be driving. Teddy walked with him to the passenger side. Scooching aside the slumbering raiju who was content and dreaming, completely unaware of how hurt everyone around it was. As he rounded the front of the old wagon he ran his hand along the hood. A soft sad smile as he gave it a pat, as if thanking the van for its role in giving him the opportunity to meet its…former owner. As if asking for forgiveness from the machine, for accepting it and letting Rhett go.
They had miles to go before they could rest, but the first turn of the key would always be the hardest. Teddy's hand wavered on the gear shift. As they watched the form of Rhett Tangaroa slip into the mist and shadow. All he could do now was look to Emilio for permission.
—
He waved, as promised. But something in him knew that the van would sit there for too long if he waited. So, with a sweeping bow, the warden took his exit. Backed away from the scene, bathed in the red of the taillights, that wild grin never leaving his face.
Not until he turned on his heel and faced the darkness that loomed behind him. The forced exuberance wilted, eyes widening in the face of his own mortality. Wasn’t how he ever saw himself going. He fought for the greater good, sure, but only in the way he understood. Killing fae. This was… well, this was foreign. But, he thought to himself, suppose an old dog can learn new tricks.
It was time to get to his spot. There were still hours to go, but Rhett wouldn’t be the one showing up unfashionably late and dooming the whole fuckin’ planet, not after all that game he’d been talking moments ago.
One step forward, into the gathering fog. Do it for them. His heart thumped quickly in his chest. Do it for him.
Another step, and the warden was swallowed whole by the malignant force settling over the town.
different pages, different books, different libraries | rhett & baz
TIMING: Recent-ish
PARTIES: @ironcladrhett & @genienotinabottle
SUMMARY: Impressed with Rhett’s skill with a sword, Baz wants to know what other sorts of skills he’s got. Rhett doesn’t get it.
CONTENT WARNINGS: NSFW language, alcoholism
Following the bearded man to the bar he made a beeline to — which thankfully wasn’t the Silver Bullet, the only bar Baz preferred to avoid — was a simple enough choice. After all, the fury had promised Rhett a few ‘lessons’ after the pirate adventure was over and done with, and they were keen on keeping their promises. Especially ones made to handsome bearded men with big swords and kiwi accents. Those were, in fact, Baz’s favorite kind of promises to keep.
Leaning against the bar as the man in front of them downed yet another drink, Baz smiled faintly. “You’re certainly good at that. I’m not bad at swallowing things myself, you know, though I’d rather not do it in public. Are you ready to get out of here yet?”
—
Such a successful battle, albeit far from a permanent solution, deserved a drink or two in celebration. Or five, depending. Rhett had gone in with no goals other than wanting to sword-fight pirates, and he’d very much achieved that, so he was happy. After the group had dispersed at the docks, Rhett silently made his way back into town, quickly realizing that Baz had invited themself to tag along. He didn’t say anything about it, considering the conversation they’d had prior to the expedition, figuring that was what they had in mind as well. Besides, they were nothing if not entertaining.
The dull ache in his side from an injury earned on the ghost ship had finally started to subside when Baz interjected with the extremely thinly veiled innuendo… one that still managed to somehow sail right over the warden’s head. A chuckle chased after his gulp of whiskey, dark eyes squinting in amusement as they lowered to meet Baz’s own. “Oh aye? Knew a fulla who could swallow swords.” He glanced down at the one strapped to his hip—shocking that he’d been let into the establishment at all, really, but the bouncer knew him well enough. “Freaky shit. Can ya compete with that?” Despite missing the double-meaning, Rhett impressively somehow managed to meet it with his own. Lifting the glass one last time to drain it, he retrieved a small wad of cash from his breast pocket, taking a few seconds to count it out before pinning it beneath the empty glass and meeting the bartender’s gaze with a quick nod. “Ready.”
—
Rhett was playing hard to get, just as he had in their earlier conversation online. In a way, it was thrilling. Baz might not have seemed like someone who liked to work for their hookups, but they didn’t mind it from time to time. It always made what followed just a little sweeter, always made going to the bedroom feel like something of an accomplishment. Baz liked feeling accomplished. It did wonders for their hair.
Clicking their tongue at the mention of swords, the fury let their eyes flicker down to the one strapped to Rhett’s side, making a show of letting their gaze travel until their focus lay… distinctly elsewhere. “Oh, I’ve spent a lot of time with… certain kinds of swords in my mouth.” Not their best innuendo, but Rhett was the one who’d changed the subject to swords. There was only so much Baz could do with that. “I think you’ll find I win most competitions in this particular area. I’d love to swallow your sword for you, if you’re interested.” And he did seem interested. Baz didn’t think they were mistaking the eagerness with which the bearded man drained his glass, though it was a bore to see him carefully count out his cash. He probably just didn’t have enough to risk leaving too much. Maybe Baz could offer some financial support if things went well enough. Grinning, Baz got to their feet. “All right, then. Your place or mine?”
—
Weird. Weird all around, but not in a way that was off-putting. It was hard to put Rhett off anyway, all things considered. He looked a little bit bemused, but smiled nonetheless. If Baz wanted to swallow his sword, well by god, who was he to stop them? The wandering gaze didn’t go unnoticed, though Rhett himself had such a habit of not looking at people when he talked that he truly didn’t think much of it. And so, like a bullmoose in a shop full of itty bitty glass figurines, he marched disastrously onward without a single clue as to the situation he was getting himself into.
“Well. Depends on yer sensibilities, which I gather are… sensible,” he chuckled, leading them toward the exit. “My place is largely outdoors. Or in the boot of the van. Or.. dodgy hotel room.” His gaze slid over to them as they stepped out into the cool night air. “Get the feelin’ yours might be a bit more up t’standard.” It wasn’t hard to discern Baz’s appreciation for the finer things in life, if his whole speech about having the right outfit for sword fighting ghosts was any indication. Nothing wrong with that, Rhett supposed. Just wasn’t his concern, wasn’t high on his list of priorities. Not many things were, though, which is probably exactly how he’d ended up in a spot like this in the first place.
—
Rhett was an agreeable guy. Those were always Baz’s favorite sorts. Some people got so bent out of shape about things, were downright offended by comeons and pickup lines. Rhett might be content to play hard to get, but he wasn’t playing it in an angry way. No offended grunts, no disgusted expressions. Baz was more than content to play along.
“I do have very sensible sensibilities, you’re right.” The fury made a face as the bearded man went through a laundry list of ‘places’ he had stashed away. Outdoors was fine enough — Baz had had plenty of trysts in the great outdoors — but a van? A dodgy hotel room? Certainly not their style. Their own apartment wasn’t far, and Rhett had given no indication of being dangerous, so… “My place it is! Come on, I’ll lead the way.” They chattered on as they walked, throwing in a few more innuendos until the pair finally arrived at Baz’s apartment. Grinning, the fury unlocked the door and welcomed the man inside. “Please, make yourself at home. Can I get you anything? A drink? Maybe you’d like to change into something a little more comfortable?”
—
Big talker, this one. Rhett had always appreciated chatty folks. They filled up the empty air that he left with his short, blunt sentences. Not that he minded silence, but sometimes it could be uncomfortable, company depending. Baz was proficient in filling the silence, and so Rhett settled in to listen, smirking at the clever wordplay for all the wrong reasons.
Glancing down at his attire, Rhett frowned. What was uncomfy about his outfit? All the weapons, maybe. Made sitting down hard, sometimes. With a shrug, the warden started doffing his weaponry, settling it in a precarious little pile on a small stool of some kind that sat by the door. “Might wanna consider givin’ that a wipe before ya go stickin’ it in yer mouth,” he commented casually, gesturing at the sheathed sword as he slipped out of his muddy boots. “Anyway. Drink’d be good.” As if he hadn’t had enough at the bar—there was never really enough. If hunting didn’t kill him, his liver surely would some day.
—
Removing weapons was certainly a good place to start when it came to undressing. Baz moved into the kitchen as Rhett began piling a truly impressive number of weapons by the door, anticipating the man’s need for a drink before he made the request. He’d seemed a fan of dark liquor at the bar, but Baz didn’t have much of that on hand, so… Tequila would have to do the trick.
Tilting their head ever so slightly at Rhett’s comment, Baz smirked faintly to themself. “Oh, I’d be happy to rub it down for you. I’m good at that, too.” They finished making the drinks and returned to the sitting area, expecting to find a very naked man on the sofa. Instead, Rhett was… fully dressed. Unexpected. Did he want Baz to take his clothes off for him? Some people certainly preferred as much. The fury shrugged, setting the drinks on the coffee table. “Now, I don’t know about you, but I’ve never been good at patience. I’m fine doing this in the bedroom or in here. Do you have a preference?”
—
Reaching for the glass only moments after it was set down, Rhett lifted an eyebrow. What benefit would doing the lesson in the bedroom provide? In fact, now that Rhett thought about it, he couldn’t even really remember what the lesson was supposed to be about. How to ask for things nicely? Was this a lesson in politeness? Oh. Well. The warden glanced in the direction he could only assume was the bedroom, taking a sip of the tequila. “Either’s good enough for me. Host should probably do the pickin’, eh?” Was that how manners worked? Fuck, he had no idea. Whatever, the tequila was a good enough reason to be here on its own, it tasted very expensive. Also, it was going to be really neat seeing Baz swallow a sword. Rhett had always gotten a kick out of those side-show acts. But that would likely come later, after he’d been educated on… whatever it was he’d agreed upon.
“What’s the first step, then?”
—
Rhett was a polite, open-minded gentleman. Baz liked that about him, really. The fury hummed, glancing down at the bearded man and deciding that, while he was very handsome, he might be a little too filthy to put between their expensive sheets if everything that needed doing could be done on the sofa. “We’ll stay in the living room. Less of a walk, isn’t it?” As if the trek to the bedroom was measured in miles instead of feet. They were half-inclined to suggest doing it in the shower, but they didn’t want to offend.
And offending was a possibility. The more Rhett spoke, the clearer it became that he didn’t do this sort of thing often. Perhaps he wasn’t much of a one night stand sort of fellow. It was almost flattering, the idea that Baz was the exception to some rule. It would have been more flattering if they didn’t hold the firm belief that they ought to be the exception to every rule. “Well, a good first step would be taking off your pants. They’re… lovely, really,” the distaste in their tone showed how untrue they found the statement to be, “but they’re going to get in the way.”
—
Huh. Well. That was… unexpected. Rhett didn’t immediately respond, taking a moment to digest the request. Didn’t add up. Unless— “Oh.” Oh. The bewilderment on his face turned quickly to amusement as the warden broke into a wide grin. “Fuck, mate, y’can’t be usin’ innuendos around me. Sail right over my head.” He couldn’t help but laugh, going over their several conversations since that first interaction online and only just now realizing that Baz had been making very earnest attempts to flirt with him. And that he, somehow, had managed to flirt right back without realizing it.
Getting to his feet and drinking some more of the tequila, Rhett regarded Baz with new understanding. The smile remained, becoming a little lopsided as he cocked his head at them, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “How old are you, lad?”
—
Alarmingly, there was an expression of confusion on the man’s face as Baz introduced the idea of losing his pants. Had he wanted more foreplay, perhaps? Baz hadn’t taken Rhett for the type to need such things on the boat, when he’d launched himself at ghostly pirates without a hint of hesitation, or in the bar, where he’d thrown back drinks without hardly looking at them first. It wasn’t until Rhett spoke that the fury realized their mistake — apparently, Rhett hadn’t been aware of the plan the way Baz thought he had. “I said I was going to swallow your sword,” the fury said with a blink. “And rub it down for you. I was hardly being subtle.” Had Rhett thought they were talking about an actual sword? Baz glanced to the blade with a dubious expression. No way was that thing going to be allowed near their throat.
At least Rhett didn’t seem terribly offended by the ordeal. Perhaps there remained some chance to salvage this whole ordeal. Baz smiled, batting their eyelashes. “Plenty old enough to know my way around.” They could hardly answer the question truthfully. They’d been young when they achieved immortality, so claiming any age too much older than the age they appeared was tricky. They certainly couldn’t answer with their actual age. That always ended in trouble. “We can still have a good time, if you’re interested. No more innuendos! Just good fun.”
—
Reacting to the vague answer with a sassy sort of eyebrow-raise, Rhett snickered. “Plenty old enough, eh?” Seeming to mull it over in his head, he downed the last of his drink and offered Baz a shrug. “Never said I was smart. Y’work forgin’ blades all day long, n’ y’think when a person starts talkin’ ‘bout a sword, they mean the real deal.” Glancing down at his hands, Rhett unbuttoned one of his leather gloves at the wrist and slipped it off his hand, dropping it onto the coffee table. Tattooed fingers curled into a loose fist, the back of his index finger brushing lightly over the skin of Baz’s neck. “Even the soft ones. Or… especially.” Truth be told, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been propositioned… mostly for lack of trying. It was nowhere to be found on his list of priorities, falling short of all the other things that consumed his every waking hour—hunting, making sure his friends didn’t do anything stupid without him there to help, eating things that weren’t considered food in most parts of the world, dissociating, reliving past trauma, more hunting, and eating things that were not considered food anywhere in the world. It had been about eight or so years since he last slept with someone, now that he thought about it.
He could hear Emilio telling him how sad that was, and sighed inwardly. Well, what was the harm, when Baz was so willing? “Like good fun,” he agreed, pulling his hand back toward himself to unbutton the other glove. “Can’t think of a good reason t’say no.” He smirked down at Baz, dropping it onto the coffee table as well. “So.. guess I won’t.”
—
Baz only wriggled their brows as Rhett questioned the response, making no move to give a clearer answer. It didn’t seem like Rhett really needed one, anyway. He was already moving to discuss the swords instead, and the fury let their eyes dart over to the impressive blade by the door. “I suppose that’s fair enough.” Perhaps the innuendos had been more vague than Baz assumed. They’d have to take this bit of… constructive criticism into consideration for the future, they supposed. But right now? They’d much prefer to focus on the rough, calloused hands brushing their skin. They’d always loved a working person’s hands.
“Well, I certainly can’t think of one, either!” Baz grinned, pleased that things had worked out for the best after all. “Now, how about I swallow that sword for you?”
[pm] […] Yeah I’m pretty sure of that too. Everything’s got a cost and I didn’t want to scare the kids, but rituals like that usually demand sacrifice. I just don’t want to do it wrong and end up causing more harm then good. […] You’re asking a lot out of me. I understand though so I won’t tell him. It’s hard for him to see he’s got a future, but he does. I bet you’re probably not worried he’d stop you, but you’re worried he’s gonna join you. Usually I would say that should be up to him, but I don’t know. I don’t think that would be right.
Damn! I was going to ask. Well I mean it’s usually what happens, so I’m just glad to know. I guess it was connected with the guy?
[ pm ] Hear ya. Gotta know where to start anyway, might as well pick the dusty brains of those long dead. [...] Appreciate it. Won’t be able to keep it secret forever, but figure the less time I give him to react the more likely it is he’ll actually leave.
Would be willin’ to bet, those fuckers live a damn long time... probably with that bloke since birth. Was a little creepy looking, but sweet as.
[pm] Fair enough. I’m not one to pass up help. I’ve got to gather some stuff for it, but to be honest it won’t take me that long. Mostly I’m not sure what will come in the after bit. The town hall got pretty intense, but there’s no use skirting around it either I guess.
[pm] Shut up really! That’s fantastic. I’ll have to inform the Good Father that I won the bet. Maybe I shouldn’t though. I really don’t want Jamie coming back around this way. Fuck. Who’s gonna - I’ll figure that out later.
[ pm ] Don’t think we’ll find an alternative. Maybe, but... not hopeful. Willing to help. To stay. Don’t be breathing a word of it to Emilio, though. Not his concern.
Haha, aye, really! Was a lively one, too. Ironic. Shame I had to behead the bloke it was usin’ as a perch.
Sooner you start recognizing I’m always right, better off you’ll be.
[pm] Don’t have much worth packing up, anyway. Long as I’ve got you, him, and Ari with me, I’m good to go. Pretty sure everyone else is smart enough to find their own way out.
[ pm ] There’s a fuckin’ laugh. Not hallucinatin’ the time you announced spriggans hate inverted socks all fuckin’ proud like you were a warden yourself.
[...] Good. Y’say that, but you know how people are. Dumb as rocks. Stubborn. But not you, aye? We’ll getcha out.
I’m only nice when I’m drunk, so you’d better get to sharing.
[pm] Damn. Good you took them out, though. Might’ve saved some people in that town. I think Teddy wants to leave, too. I’m not against it. This place isn’t really home, you know? Just a hassle to pack everyone up.
Ya got me there.
[ pm ] Might’ve. Aye, well, you two get packin’. Sounds like leavin’ won’t matter much if we don’t find a way to stop it here, gonna dig in to that. Shit’s already packed. Perks of livin’ out the van. Will let you know what I find.
Depends on whether or not you’re planning on sharing that shit.
[pm] How’d the trip go? Yeah. Word on the street is the town’s on borrowed time. Whatever the hell that means. I’m […] not dead or anything, so I guess everything’s good.
With you? Maybe. If you’re nice.
[ pm ] Eh. Killed plenty, not the right one though. Whole god damned nest of ‘em. Nearby town was rippin’ itself apart. Mm. Well, ain’t put down much for roots... could leave.
I’m sure there is a formal way to do it. If I was more important than some random college student in town.
But because I’m not I figure the next best bet is to drum up some talk in town. Try to get others talking about it and see if we can get people to meet there.
Like an online flyer, basically.
Whazzit ‘bout? General fuckery of the town? What, you think it’s about to go critical then, eh?
Need whoever bought out the last of the cheap whiskey at the liquor store to give me a call. I’ll give you a damn coupon. Three hours of free PI services for every bottle.
.
Better or worse if I said it was yours truly?
[ pm ] Just got back from that wee trip I mentioned. Place seems... worse for wear. You alright?
So. Hello everyone. At risk of sounding like a complete psychopath some really weird stuff is going on. And White Crest used to hold these like town halls to discuss important matters.
This feels like one of those important matters. Like town ending important matters. Anybody know how I formally request a town hall???
.
There a formal way to do it? Eh, just post flyers, people’ll show.
