Technically speaking, Adiel shouldn’t have been out of school. But seeing how she wasn’t even in school, Zebediah didn’t see the harm in going out of state for a bit of sightseeing. That, and Allen had a convention for cardiologists that was taking place in NYC, and he thought it would be nice if the whole ‘family’ could go along.
(They had to leave behind Dinah, sadly, putting her in the capable hands of the caretakers at her kennel. Ellie had promised the growing German shepherd that she would bring her back a special bone from NYC, because everyone appreciated a souvenir. Even dogs.)
They had gone by plane, much to Zebediah’s chagrin, early in the morning where only the business orientated and the determined-to-get-there-as-fast-as-possible flyers could be seen. They flew coach, Ellie had a book bag filled with books and comic books and more books from both Allen’s private library and Gerry-the-librarian’s library, and Zebediah took to muttering prayers of ACDC and Led Zeppelin when they took off and landed.
(Allen was still much too amused by his beau’s fear of flying.)
They made it in relatively good time, with only a half hour delay because another plane at the airport in New York City had yet to take off. Hailing a cab (which was practically an Olympic sport, it was that difficult), Zebediah and Ellie piled into the backseat while Allen took the front. Only because he knew where the hotel they were staying at was, and he had to give the address.
Out of the party of three, only Zebediah had never been to New York City. Allen had spent some of his youth in the sprawling metropolis, and Ellie was born and raised in the stickier neighbourhoods where the homeless were her friends and Broadway’s backstage her entertainment system.
We note this because we can.
“Well that’s fancy lookin’,” Zebediah muttered, looking out the cab window to the rather large-and-extraordinary hotel they were pulling up to. “This where your convention thing at?”
“Mm,” Allen nodded, pulling out a few bills and paying the cabbie for his efforts. The three clambered out of the yellow vehicle, Ellie waving as it zipped off into traffic – slow moving as it was, a cab was always able to move quickly. “O-on the bottom level; there are o-offices and a r-rather large meeting area for u-us to use.”
“Hey, I think I know this street!” Ellie piped up appearing at Allen’s elbow and pointing down said street. “Isn’t a really good Chinese restaurant down that-a-way?”
“Oh, I c-can’t remember, h-honestly. It’s b-been so long since I’ve been in the c-city…”
“Hmm…” Ellie put on what she called her ‘thinking face’, scrunching up her nose and pressing her forefingers against her lips, fingertips poking at the end of her nose, “well! Looks like I’ll be our tour guide, huh?”
“L-looks like,” Allen agreed with a smile, ruffling her hair gently before smoothing it back in place. Adiel preened, leaning into his hand like a pup getting an ear scratching. Zebediah chose that moment to adjust the two big suitcases he was holding (his and Allen’s and Ellie’s respectively), clearing his throat and looking at them expectantly. “A-ah, yes, we should head i-inside…”
Leading the way into the hotel, Allen went up to the front desk to check in while Ellie explored the front lobby and Zebediah propped himself against a conveniently-placed fancy-as-heck pillar. Why hotels felt the need to have decorative pillars in their front lobby, the gunman couldn’t figure out. Maybe so people could prop up on them.
“F-fourth floor,” Allen said, walking over to Zeb and looking up at him. He noted Adiel not standing glued to Zebediah’s side, taking a moment to spot her peeking into the restaurant section of the hotel. “E-Ellie, we’ll have s-something to eat l-later! Let’s get s-settled in, hmm?”
“Kay! Do I get a room of my own? I’ve never had a room of my own in a hotel before. Momma was always afraid that if I wasn’t in the room with her, I would get kidnapped or killed or something else equally horrible and scary while in a hotel. Of course, whenever we stayed in hotels, they were kind of ratty. And nasty. And not as nice as this, not at all. This really is a nice hotel, does it cost a lot? I bet it does. The restaurant looks fancy and that usually means that the hotel costs a lot ‘cause they’re expecting fancy people to come eat in their fancy restaurant. Will I have to get dressed for dinner? I don’t think I have any nice dresses. ‘Cept that one from the shelter but I think I left that at home. I should get a nice dress, you never know when you’ll need it…”
Ellie filled the silence as they made their way to the elevator, squeezing in past a rather large woman with a bouffant that probably should have been out of style and a skinny guy delivering pizzas. She only quieted down long enough for her to leave Zeb and Allen’s side to explore her hotel room, leaving the doctor and the gunman by themselves.
Zebediah dropped their suitcase onto the suitcase rack near the door, slipped out of his boots, and flopped face-first into their king sized bed, sighing in relief to be off his feet. The mattress was rather soft, almost too much so, but the pillows were firm enough to make up for that. Hopefully it wouldn’t kill his back when he went to sleep.
He twitched when he felt a hand on his shoulder, turning his head enough to look at Allen from the corner of his eye. Smiling down at him, his doctor pressed a kiss to his temple and squeezed his arm lightly, pulling away after a moment. “Where’re you goin’?”
“I’m g-going to s-s-see if I can f-find where the convention will b-be,” Allen said, adjusting his shirt and smoothing back unruly curls from his forehead. “You t-take a nap, Zeb, y-you didn’t get enough sleep last n-night. M-meet me in front of the restaurant in an h-hour?”
Allen laughed, a quiet sound that was more breath than noise, before picking up his key card and making his way to the door. “Love you, too, Zeb.”
Zeb lifted his hand in a lazy flap of farewell, knocking out the minute the door was closed.
_____________________________________________________________________
When Ellie had popped over to Allen and Zeb’s room, she saw the doctor closing the door quietly behind him and assumed Zebediah was asleep.
Of course, Allen was always very considerate towards others, especially herself and Zeb. She could wake up at two AM from nightmares, crying and shaking and hugging the ever-loving daylights out of poor Dinah, and suddenly Allen would be beside her, pushing a cup of steaming hot cocoa in her hands and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Shaking fingers running through her hair, a quiet voice filled with British song lulling her back into calmness, and eventually she would feel practically human again.
But she knew Zeb was sleeping because Allen turned towards her after making sure the door was locked, put his finger to his lips, and smiled at her serenely. She took the moment to mean ‘Zebediah’s asleep and you shouldn’t talk just yet’.
So she didn’t talk just yet.
Actually, she didn’t get to talk at all because Allen left her soon as they were on the main floor, saying that he was going to go find where his convention-thing was and that he and Zeb were meeting at the restaurant in an hour – she should meet them, too.
So with that plan made, Allen disappeared somewhere into the bowels of the hotel, leaving little Ellie Walker to her own devices.
It had been much too long since Adiel had last been to her native city – a year, actually! The streets were familiar secrets; the people unknown friends. She passed by Buskers and the saxophonist who played on that one corner near the McDonald’s and the Starbucks every Tuesday who always played Pirates of the Caribbean music because it was his favourite movie. She waved to a woman in the middle of a photo shoot, dressed in silky frocks and twirling in the natural wind of the street.
(She waved back, and gave the photographer a lovely candid shot that would be used in the next fashion magazine.)
She walked and walked and walked, using shortcuts that she would suddenly remember or suddenly make up, diving deeper and deeper into the belly of the city and feeling her blood sing.
Adiel walk finally and truly home.
That wasn’t to say that the Townsend-Walker household wasn’t home. It was cozy and she loved it there, with Dinah and Zeb and Allen surrounding her, making her feel like she was part of a real, honest-to-goodness family like Momma always wanted for her. It was sweet and comfortable and she did love it.
But New York City was in her blood. It rushed through her veins and it settled in her skin like a familiar coat; well worn and worn-out, but still her absolute favourite.
Coming up to a familiar-not-familiar part of town, where the shadows were longer and the edges of buildings a tad sharper than usual, she thought she saw someone she recognized working in a garage. Back towards her, dressed in a grease-stained wife-beater and wearing gloves to make sure he didn’t hurt himself while working on the car he was currently bent over.
Zebediah should probably take pointers from this guy; he was always hurting himself on the Impala. Ellie swore he and the car was basically the same person by now.
But why did she recognize this man?
Walking up to him, the slip of a 16-year-old peeked over at the profile of the man, eyes widened at the familiar shape of his lips; the dip of his nose; the slant and colour of his eyes. He even had the same haircut; the same forehead; the same arms and hands and ears and chin and cheeks. He even had the freckles!
The only thing he didn’t have were the scars.
The man jerked, turning towards her and narrowing his eyes on her threateningly. That seemed to be his immediate response, it’s what he did immediately. Straightening out to his full height (good grief, they were the same height!), the man crossed his arms over his chest and downright sneered.
“Uhh…Zeb? Zebediah?” She blinked up at him, watching as his expression turned more and more sour the more and more she spoke. “Okaay…not Zeb. What’s your name?”
“…Well, I’m Ellie,” Ellie pushed forward, holding out her hand and grinning up at him. “Adiel Walker, actually, but Adiel’s a funny name so everyone calls me Ellie. Well. A few people do. Someone calls me Addy. But only one person. Anyhow, not the point. You look a lot like someone I know. My cousin, actually! Zebediah Walker. You got his face and his eyes and you even kinda look like him but he’s not as grumpy as you. What’s your name? What’cha workin’ on? Are you from New York? You don’t sound like you’re from the city. But who knows, there’s all types! What’cha do for a living? Do you fix cars? That’s neat, I like cars. But not as much as Zeb. I bet you and Zeb would get along really well. Well, maybe not. He might get frustrated at you. Or you might kill him. You seem like the type of person to kill people. I’ve met a lot of folks like that in this part of town. My neighbour killed his wife this one time. Got arrested and everything. Was let out ‘cause he said it was self defense, but Momma and I knew better. But Momma always told me that we had to keep our noses out of other people’s business –”
“The name is Vincent, what I do is none of your friggin’ business, you talk too much, and you should listen to your mother.”
Ellie snapped her mouth shut, watching him with wide doe-eyes for a moment before she sighed and nodded, stepping away.
“Sorry to have bothered you!”
“Then stop botherin’ me.”
Ellie squeaked, taking another step back, not quite able to make herself leave this strange man’s side. He didn’t really seem like a Vincent. But then again, he didn’t seem like a Zebediah, either. How odd, that Zeb’s clone didn’t even look like the name ‘Zeb’ would suit him. This man seemed more archaic to her. Older. Wiser. Angrier. Lots of ‘er’ words.
“I’m sorry, but can I take a quick picture ‘cause you really, really look like Zeb and I want to show him when I get back to him –”
“Go the fuck AWAY!” The man threw his hand cloth at her, causing a terrified shriek to emit from Ellie, quickly followed by a pop as the young girl popped away.
Vincent, AKA Vidar, Norse God in Human Clothing, stared at the spot where the annoying brat had been and wondered if he’d just pissed off some other culture’s spirit or something.
Meanwhile, Ellie Walker ended up on the roof of the hotel, which was precisely twelve stories (because no one counted the poor thirteenth story) and practically fell off the edge.
She only saved herself because she freaked out again and teleported mid-fall into someone’s bathtub.
They were very confused.
_____________________________________________________________________
Zebediah was not sure when he had set up his alarm to go off for an hour after he had gone to sleep, but somehow he had managed it.
Rousing himself up from the much-needed rest, slapping the machine off and grumbling about annoying beeping noises, the gunman made his way to the bathroom to splash some water on his face and brush his teeth quickly. When he looked into the mirror he noted that he had pillow creases pressed into his cheek, making his snort.
“Good God I must’ve slept heavily.”
Drying his face off, he grabbed the extra key card and pulled his boots back on, making his way out of the hotel room and down towards the stairs.
(Zebediah preferred the stairs over elevators. The stairs couldn’t get stuck.)
Jogging down the last few steps, he pushed open the stairwell door and stepped into the lobby, right next to where the restaurant was. Well, that was handy.
Leaning against the wall, he looked around to make sure Allen and Ellie weren’t just sitting around waiting for him to get up. He didn’t see either of their dark heads of hair however, meaning Zeb was the first one there. Which was nice, really, because this way he wasn’t late. He’d much rather be early than late.
Making himself comfortable, the gunman took another look around the hotel, peeking into the restaurant to make sure Allen didn’t grab a seat ahead of time.
And that’s when he saw his doctor.
Well…he thought he was his doctor. After first. He was about the same height and the same build, with the same nose and the same high forehead that he often pressed kisses to or pushed his own forehead against. Same sharp cheekbones, same ears, same neck…
It was Allen but it wasn’t.
One of the major differences was the colour of the man’s hair. Instead of pitch black, he had dark brown. And he had a beard of a lighter shade. He walked around the restaurant dressed as a server, too, and that really was the biggest hint of them all.
The man was seemingly gliding between tables when he looked over at Zebediah, his blue eyes wide and fathomless and Zebediah thought he had just felt his breath stolen from him. Not from some sort of overly-romantic sentiment – more like he was staring into a black hole and he was literally being sucked out of reality.
Holy hell, those were frightening eyes though.
The man blinked at him, cocked his head to the side, and smiled a sleepy little smile before turning away, talking quietly to a woman at a table he was serving.
Zebediah jumped when small hands grabbed onto his forearm.
“Oh my goodness, Zeb, you will not believe what I saw when I went out walking. So I was just walking wherever I wanted because I know the streets really well and even when I don’t I have my pocket knife so I’m all good, and I come across this guy at a garage. And I thought I recognized him so I went up to say hi and he looked exactly like you except he seemed way older and wiser and angrier and meaner and all the ‘er’ words but that’s not important. But he was you he had your nose and your lips and your chin and your face and shoulders and he even sounded like you – granted you get a Southern accent sometimes which is weird you’re not from the South was your momma from the South she must have been ANYWAY – and he was your height and I tried to get a picture but he scared me and I teleported onto the roof and almost fell off and teleported again into someone’s bathtub. Which was really, really hard to explain by the way but I managed it who are you looking at?”
“I thought I was looking at Allen – wait a goddamn minute you almost fell off the roof?”
“W-what’s this about r-roofs and f-falling and s-s-seeing me?”
Zeb and Ellie looked over to see Allen approaching them, a confused little smile on his face. Shrugging, Zebediah watched as Ellie launched herself at Allen and started yapping a mile a minute, telling him the same story she had just told Zebediah. Allen, listening, came up to Zeb and kissed his cheek, hiding his amused smile at Ellie’s exuberance against his stubble-skin, before turning back to the girl and pressing the tips of his fingers to her lips to quiet her.
“W-why don’t you t-t-tell me everything over l-lunch?”
“Okay! Oh, Zeb said he thought he saw someone who looked like you in the restaurant.”
“O-oh?” The doctor peeked into the restaurant, but the strange man with the endless eyes was gone. Allen blinked, head tilting to the side curiously, before he shrugged and hooked his arm with Zebediah’s, hooking the other with Ellie’s. “W-well, he seems to be g-g-gone now. L-Let’s find a table.”
_____________________________________________________________________
While Ellie slept soundly in her bed and Zebediah and Allen spent a few hours to themselves accordingly, the rest of New York City thrived.
Walking home aimlessly, his eyes to the starry sky and his mind to the woman they always reminded him of, Morgan Knight barely caught himself when he bumped into another person. Another god, to be exact – he always knew the feeling.
“Fuck’s sake, Morpheus, watch where the hell you’re goin’.”
“Ah,” Morpheus sighed, straightening his shirt and looking up through his lashes to Vidar, who was busy crossing his arms and scowling at the world. “My apologies, Vidar, my mind is elsewhere.”
“It’s always elsewhere, you’re never on the freakin’ planet.” The Norseman rolled his eyes, wrinkling his nose distastefully, before he moved to pass him. Morpheus reached out, fingertips trailing over his bicep and causing him to pause mid-step. “What?”
“I saw a very curious thing today,” Morpheus murmured, voice soft and lulling and practically singing Vidar to sleep. The god wondered if the dreamer had gotten a sacrifice lately. “A very curious thing indeed.”
“And what’s that, my clone?”
“…As a matter of fact, yes.” Morpheus smiled, not seeming to be affected by the fact Vidar could apparently read his mind. “Yours and mine.”
“They were together,” Morpheus added, a funny little smile on his lips. “Romantically so.”
“…That’s fucking disgusting,” Vidar said with a shudder, shaking his head. “Odin’s sake, today’s been way too weird.”
“Indeed.” Morpheus bobbed his head in a nod, before turning away again. “Have a good night, Vidar. And sweet dreams.”
The two gods separated, leaving the rest of the night to New York City silence.
