@danielabrams replied to your post “[pm] I wish you weren’t at work. I miss you and...”:
[pm] Aw, ain’t no reason to get all jealous. Sometimes she needs me to reach for the stuff way up high. And who’s to say she’ll even be there today? […] Yeah, I’ll swing by for lunch. Maybe I’ll bring you something sweet. […] Mmm, yum, yeah I’ll fix us that and I’ll make enough for you to have leftovers for a couple days. Ain’t gonna do it every night though. [user is smiling widely while texting her because he feels all warm and happy.] I love you more.
[PM] I'm not jealous. Obviously. I'm [...] possessive. She doesn't need your help, honey. She asks because she likes the way your arms look when you stretch and that sometimes your shirt rides up. [...] Yay! Thank you <3
Leftovers will work. We should do steaks Friday night - I can handle those. I'll make 'em how you like, with potatoes and vegetables and a healthy pour of whiskey. And then you can take me to bed for the whole weekend [...] You couldn't possibly, you loser.
@danielabrams replied to your post “[pm] Hey. Sorry to bother you. I think I left one...”:
[pm] Yeah, it happens. Just [...] need my stuff back, I guess. No, no reason to go to the park office. I'm not there that much these days anyway. [user is there almost daily.] I can easily just come pick it up sometime. [...] Do you happen to know if I left anything else?
[pm] Of course. We shouldn't [...] Oh, is everything okay? Did you get Okay, yeah then I can leave it by my apartment door. [user really hopes he doesn't run into Metzli while retrieving the items] [user then realizes she hopes he doesn't run into her while doing so either] There's a shirt, too. It ended up in my laundry basket by mistake. [user knows that detail doesn't matter, but she doesn't delete it before sending] I'll leave it with the pan.
TIMING: a couple of days after safe haven.
LOCATION: talia’s house.
PARTIES: @danielabrams & @incatsclothing.
SUMMARY: when daniel comes home to find an (expected) houseguest waiting for him, he and rory chat.
CONTENT WARNINGS: gun violence (aftermath).
It was hard to leave Talia’s couch. Not just physically, though that was a difficulty Rory had to account for, too — getting shot really fucking hurt, as it turned out, and getting shot with a silver bullet probably hurt worse than normal for… someone like her — but emotionally, too. All Rory really wanted was to curl up with one of the cushions on the couch and hide from the world indefinitely, until things made sense again. Except… things were never going to make sense again. Everything she knew about herself — everything she knew about her life, her family — was wrong. How did you come to terms with that? How did you learn to accept it? It ached. It wouldn’t stop aching.
She sniffed, hugging the pillow she was holding a little closer to her chest. Sharp ears picked up the sound of a key turning in the lock; her nose picked up a scent that was vaguely familiar, but not Talia. Immediately, Rory tensed. She reared back with the pillow and, as the door opened, let it fly. Sure, someone having a key to the house probably meant they weren’t a threat; if Talia trusted them, Rory ought to, too. But she’d just found out she’d spent her entire life being lied to by people she’d trusted, and she’d just been shot in the gut with a silver bullet. It was kind of hard to trust anything right now. The pillow — which wasn’t a great weapon — sailed through the air as the door opened, and Rory scrambled behind the couch despite the pain the action caused her. She ducked down to the side of it, clutching her stomach uncertainly. Hopefully whoever it was didn’t have, like, a gun or something. She was kind of over guns.
—
At least Talia had warned Daniel before he came home that there would be a young, wounded werewolf in the house. When he pulled into the empty driveway, he cursed under his breath that he’d gotten back to Talia’s cabin while she was gone. Tree perked up in the passenger seat and if it wasn’t for the lack of dog food for her, he would have headed straight to his camper so as not to disturb Rory. But his dog needed her dinner and he needed to clean off after spending multiple days out in the woods with a group who wanted to backpack and explore. The group was nice and easygoing, and for the most part, they knew what they were doing which made Daniel’s life easier; they just wanted a professional to ensure they didn’t get lost in the wilderness.
As much as he wanted to take one of his weapons with him, Daniel decided to leave everything in his truck. He hoped this was going to be the same Rory that he’d met twice. Maybe he wouldn’t need a weapon—though if he did, he knew where he kept a few hidden around Talia’s cabin.
He noisily walked up the porch step and jangled his keys at the door. He wanted Rory to hear him so it would be less of a surprise as he came inside. Once he opened the door though, a pillow whacked him against the chest, and he watched as Rory—definitely the same Rory—hid behind the couch. At least she didn’t throw an actual weapon at him. He picked up the pillow as Tree scrambled into the tiny cabin and ran right to her empty food bowl. “Uh, hey, Rory. Talia mentioned you’d be here,” Daniel said as he closed the door behind him and kicked off his boots. “It’s me, Daniel.”
—
The voice that greeted her was a familiar one, though not Talia’s. Rory had only met Daniel twice, but both had been memorable enough situations. The first time, Rory had been injured and spiraling after her encounter with the vampire and Brigit’s death; the second, it was Daniel who had been in rough physical shape and emotionally… weird, to say the least, even if she still didn’t really know why. Now here they were again, with Rory in tremendous pain both physically and emotionally. What, were they taking turns? Would the next time she saw Daniel find him in dire straits again?
Poking her head up from behind the couch, Rory grunted. Even the limited movement was enough to exhaust her, making her feel as though she was going to collapse. She ached all over, the pain not just localized to the injuries she’d sustained in her encounter with Daiyu. And, maybe worst of all, she still wanted to cry. She hated the feeling of it, hated the tightness in her throat and the ache in her chest. She hated that Daniel was here to witness it, too.
“Why are you here?” She asked, rather than offering him any kind of greeting. There was a bite to her tone; like a frightened animal snapping at the first person to come near it, Rory couldn’t help but anticipate something cruel despite the fact that Daniel had never once shown himself to be someone who might represent a threat. “Do you know Talia or something?” She didn’t move to sit back on the couch, though not because she didn’t want to. The idea of moving again at all felt too taxing, too hard. Easier to pretend she preferred the floor.
—
Daniel cautiously took off his jacket as he glanced over towards Rory peeking up at him. He wasn’t sure what exactly to say to her. It was awkward enough that time he helped her out in Nightfall Grove, and he wasn’t a comforting type of person—at least, he didn’t consider himself as such. He thought he sort of tried his best when they first met, but he was still uncertain about all of his weird feelings about shifters. Now it felt exacerbated as he looked at her and knew she was a werewolf—knew that she had just been hunted by a ranger like him, possibly a ranger he chatted with at The 3 Daggers.
He couldn’t blame her for acting so fearful towards him coming inside, and maybe he should have waited until Talia got home. Though, would that have been weirder for her Rory? Would she have heard his truck pull into the driveway and then just sat there with him inside? Was that more threatening? He wasn’t sure what the right answer was to his questions, so instead he placed his keys down on the side table. “I’m dating Talia,” Daniel answered. “I live here. With her.” He hoped that was enough of an answer, until he remembered that the last time they saw each other, he was living with Eve in Deersprings. He cleared his throat. “I just moved in like … a little over a month ago.” It all felt so natural living with Talia again that sometimes he almost forgot about their time apart—he didn’t like thinking about those months and everything that happened during them. Easier to ignore and forget.
“Just gonna feed Tree,” he said as he walked over to where he kept the dog food and filled the bowl for the dog that acted like she hadn’t eaten in weeks. Before he could even place the bowl back on the floor for her, she was already shoving her head into the bowl to get at the food.
Based on how skittish Rory seemed, Daniel thought maybe it’d be best to announce what he was doing as he moved about the cabin. Though they’d met twice, he was still a strange man. And a ranger, at that. A ranger that knew she was a werewolf who had been shot and had a silver bullet lodged in her. He racked his brain through ideas of what might be comforting or nice for the frightened and traumatized werewolf. “Gonna fix me some tea before I head out to my camper,” he said. “Do you … Do you want any?” That seemed better than awkwardly trying to talk to her.
—
He was dating Talia? The news was more surprising than it should have been, if only because it highlighted how little Rory really knew about Talia’s personal life. She trusted the werewolf completely, had come here with her guts full of silver and her whole world shifting on its axis, but what did she know about Talia as a person, really? She knew she’d killed people, but didn’t anymore. She knew Talia knew more about hunters than Rory did, knew she liked karaoke and hung out at the Chimera. But beyond that? Rory looked at Daniel and wondered how it was she could trust someone with her life even without knowing the first thing about theirs. She wondered if it was strange that the trust wasn’t shaken by this realization in the slightest. Someone pulling a bullet out of you made the resulting bond a hard one to break, apparently.
“Okay,” she said slowly, as if she was testing the word on her tongue. Daniel lived here, though he hadn’t the last time she’d run into him. Had they been dating then, when he was all sad and beaten up walking his dog through Deersprings? Or was this one of those whirlwind things where he and Talia started dating and moved in together in the same breath? That had always seemed wild to Rory, who liked her space more than she liked just about anything else, but it probably worked for some people, didn’t it? “Have you guys been together a long time, then?”
The mention of Tree saw Rory relaxing a little more, though there was a certain tightness in her chest. The last time she’d met Daniel — and the dog — she’d mentioned preferring cats as an inside joke to herself, a quiet reminder that she was still the same person she’d always been. But that wasn’t the case now, was it? She’d never been that person at all. Was that why Tree liked her, then? Could the dog sense some kind of kinship between the two of them? She didn’t like the thought of it, but mostly because she didn’t like any of this.
She shifted so she could lean her back against the couch, figuring she’d get back up onto it as soon as she’d gathered a little more strength. For a moment, the world felt like static. Even the small shift in position hurt, nausea tugging insistently at her gut. But things righted themselves, and Daniel was talking. It took her mind a moment to catch up to what he’d said; for a moment, when he asked if she wanted any, her mind — stuck on his earlier statement that he was going to feed Tree — thought he might mean dog food. The thought curled in her gut until she realized he actually meant tea, and she sighed. “Uh… sure,” she nodded. “That sounds good, I guess. Are you a tea guy? I would have thought coffee.”
—
Daniel wasn’t sure of how to answer how long he and Talia had been dating. He didn’t want to make it sound like they were some sort of on-again-off-again relationship, when that’s not how he viewed them. They may have broken up that one time, but it was for a valid reason. He had been lying to Talia about his identity and what he knew about her. He was built and sharpened to hunt and kill her—to hunt and kill Rory. During his time apart from Talia, he never once thought it was a mistake for her to end things with him. Sometimes he wondered if it was a mistake for her to let him back into her life, that maybe their relationship was a landmine waiting for one wrong step before exploding and destroying everything around them.
“Um, guess we became friends last summer. Sort of started seeing each other last winter,” he replied, thinking through how he phrased things. “Had a … fight, I guess, and didn’t talk for a few months. Decided to give it another try.” Out loud the entire relationship sounded ridiculous to an outsider. Just two people who hadn’t even known each other for a year. Two people who sort of got together, broke up, and immediately lived together. Yet it felt right to him. No matter how stupid and fast paced it was.
Daniel wouldn’t dare get into any of the feelings he had towards Talia. How she felt like a stable home to him and all he wanted was to return to each day and night. That second time he met Rory, he felt empty and devoid of everything, even as he was overwhelmed with thoughts of missing his family, friends, and Talia. He wasn’t sure how to explain how he experienced nothing and everything at the same time. But sometimes, when Talia wrapped her arms around him and nuzzled her face into the nape of his neck, he thought he could almost handle everything from his past. As if having her with him gave him the space to feel safe to think about his past. To think about seeing his sister’s killer at a bloody scene with dead humans surrounding them.
Not that he wanted to talk with anyone about that. He barely could share it with Talia, sometimes. It was only a week or so ago that he mumbled something to her about how he thought there might be something wrong with his head, but he wasn’t sure what it was or how to describe it.
He grabbed a mason jar with some of the loose leaf tea that he put together. Talia and Tabitha’s chamomile blend was right next to his tea, and his hand hovered over the jar as he considered steeping that tea for the two of them. But Daniel grabbed the black tea blend, with blueberries and blackberry leaves. “Yeah, more into tea,” he answered, glancing over his shoulder towards Rory. The water boiled behind him, and he leaned back against the kitchen counter to look towards her. “I go for coffee sometimes when I need that caffeine, but ain’t really in need of that right now. Too late in the evening. You?” He shrugged his shoulders.
He scraped his teeth against his tongue as he tried to think about what to say about Rory’s situation. He didn’t want to betray Talia’s trust with him or Rory’s with Talia, yet Rory was clearly injured and frightened. If he had to make a guess, she might be trying to hide it from him—not that he could blame her; he would do the exact same thing—had done the exact same thing. “Talia mentioned you might be staying here for a while,” he said, as he grabbed onto the counter top behind him. “I’ll … um, I mean, I’ll still … I’ll be around. Since I live here and all. Just out in my camper though. Don’t wanna bother you while you’re …,” Daniel trailed off as he bit back the word recovering—recovering from a silver bullet fired at her by a ranger like him. “While you’re here.”
—
Romance wasn’t something Rory had a lot of experience with. She’d dated people throughout her life, sure. Most people had. She’d had boyfriends in middle school, boyfriends and girlfriends in high school and the years after. Sometimes, she thought she probably loved them; other times, she thought there was no way. She didn’t think she’d ever experienced anything quite as intense as what songs and movies made love out to be — that thing that made people chase someone through airports or stand screaming in the rain, that thing that made you feel like you’d die without the other person in your life. Rory had never wanted to feel that way. The idea of needing someone else so intensely that you felt like you were nothing without them wasn’t one she found appealing, and it was strange to her that other people did.
She wondered if that was how it was for Daniel, for Talia. Maybe if she knew Daniel a little better, if she’d ever met him when neither of them was having some sort of existential crisis, she’d be able to tell based on the look on his face when he spoke about Talia and their relationship. It didn’t sound like that kind of thing; they’d gone a few months without talking, and Rory had seen both of them in that time. They’d both seemed a little down in the dumps, but they’d also been a lot more functional than the way the songs made it seem like a person might be if the one they loved was out of their life. Rory thought that was a good thing, for both of them. There was some quiet relief to it, too. Maybe it meant she wasn’t some freak who’d never known what love felt like. Maybe the media had just exaggerated.
“That’s cool,” she offered. “Uh, I hope you guys are, like… happy together, or whatever.” Talia certainly deserved happiness. It was something Rory was sure of, after how much the werewolf had helped her. Digging around in someone’s gut for a silver bullet that would hurt you just as badly as it hurt them wasn’t the sort of thing a person undeserving of joy would do. Daniel, too, had helped Rory when she’d needed it, even if his offering hadn’t been quite as intense. In the state she’d been in when he’d found her, a ride home and a conversation had felt almost as intense as Talia saving her life on the sofa, offering to do it again and again. Maybe that made the two of them a good match. Or maybe Rory was just tired and in a lot of pain and more emotional than she ever remembered being in her entire fucking life, and that made her think of the people around her as better than she normally might have. Either way, she thought she was happy for the pair of them, happy that they’d found one another.
Even so, she couldn’t quite bring herself to take her eyes off him as he moved around the kitchen. Her mind was still a little stuck in the fight or flight mode she’d been forced into in the woods; she thought it probably would be for a while. Getting shot probably did that to a person, right? Made it hard to relax, hard to focus. Having everything you knew about yourself ripped out from under you and being left floundering and thrashing in the open air, just waiting for gravity to catch you and yank you down did the same. Going through both at once probably wasn’t, like, great for her mental health or whatever, but what was she supposed to do? It wasn’t like she could call up a therapist and talk about how her mom told her she was a balam instead of a werewolf, and that misunderstanding meant she’d eaten at least a handful of people. She also couldn’t tell a therapist she’d been shot without them having to call the cops or something; she was pretty sure she remembered that from some medical drama or another. Rory was stuck dealing with all of this on her own, and that meant watching Daniel like a fucking hawk with her heart pounding uncertainly in her chest.
“I’m more into coffee, usually,” she admitted. “I like the buzz of it. Feeling more like tea right now, though.” She didn’t need any more buzzing in her gut, not with the constant thrum of anxiety trembling through her. Drinking coffee right now would only make that worse, and she knew it. Tea was relaxing; relaxing was what she needed. Absently, she ran her fingers over the fabric of the couch behind her. “Yeah,” she acknowledged. “For a bit.” Probably at least until the next full moon, she figured, if only to make it easier for Talia to help her figure out what to do when she shifted. “I’m not going to, like, kick you out of your house or anything, though. You can be around. It’s fine.” She hesitated. “How much did Talia tell you?” She wasn’t even sure how much Daniel knew about the supernatural. Did he even know Talia was a werewolf?
—
Daniel gave her a slow nod of his head. “Thanks. I think we are.” He left it at that, not wanting to go any deeper into his and Talia’s relationship. The whole relationship was difficult enough to navigate with so many people knowing about him being a ranger and her being a werewolf. Almost like he was stuck even more in between two different worlds. Not that that was a new feeling for him, as he grew up in some strange middle zone between hunters and non-hunting humans. Never truly feeling like he belonged in either. He got along well-enough with other hunters, but he sometimes felt like he was missing something in those relationships, something that had nothing to do with hunting. With other humans, he knew more than them—more about the supernatural, more about death, more about killing—that he found it hard to have normal, casual conversations with them. Though Talia was a werewolf—someone he should hunt—it almost seemed easy with her, easy to find a middle point between those two worlds.
“Well, there’s always plenty of tea here, between me and Talia,” he replied. “If you’re ever in another tea mood, feel free to help yourself.” He wasn’t sure how much Rory could be doing that right now though, with her injuries, and he guessed that he and Talia would do most of the work until she recovered enough. Not that Daniel minded taking care of someone else, even if he knew it was for another werewolf. He couldn’t not see the weird predicament he was in in that very moment—dating and living with a werewolf and now taking care of a different werewolf living with them. His hunter instincts screamed at him that this was all a horrible idea. He didn’t know anything about Rory as a werewolf beyond her shifting outside of the full moon and being attacked by a fellow ranger.
Part of him was curious though with how much she knew about being a werewolf. If she came running to Talia for help, then that meant she probably didn’t have any werewolf kinfolk in the area. No one to turn to for support, besides Talia. Was she bitten and transformed into this? Was she born into this? Did she not have anyone else to help with this? He wasn’t annoyed by her presence, but more … curious and wondering. He couldn’t help it. Nothing he did could turn off certain parts of his brain that had been molded into an investigative hunter mindset in his youth.
“Still wanna give you some space though,” Daniel answered. “Ain’t gonna have me kicked out. I’ll be around.” Like when he needed to come inside for his clothes or to get ready for work. He also wasn’t going to explain that part of him preferred to stay in his camper right then. He didn’t know how much control Rory had as a shifter, and the last thing he wanted was to get stuck and find that out. Even his camper didn’t actually provide protection from a werewolf—she could easily claw her way through the thin roof or tear open the door that barely shut. He glanced over at Tree, who had now finished up her food and ran over to Talia’s bed, leaping up onto it and circling around until she found the perfect spot to lay down and rest her head on her paws. How concerned should he be about his dog around Rory? Maybe he’d need to ask Talia a few more questions, see what she knew about Rory.
But he wasn’t going to hunt Rory. That much he knew. He only wanted to know a few more things before living with her.
(Maybe, he realized then, he should have thought about those same things last year when he and Talia would go off into the woods together or when he practically moved into her cabin. Mistake after mistake. He really moved in with a werewolf even though he knew nothing about her shifting.)
Which all now sent him into a weird spiral as he tried to think about how to answer Rory’s question. Daniel couldn’t—wouldn’t tell her that he was a ranger. He wasn’t sure how much he should divulge to her either. Should he admit that he knew Talia was a werewolf and that she mentioned Rory was one too? Should he play dumb and act like he knew nothing about the supernatural? Even that one seemed a little ridiculous at this point. He thought back to their first meeting in Nightfall Grove, and now he thought maybe he was a little too obvious about knowing about the existence of vampires. Maybe it was already clear that he knew about the supernatural.
“She … she told me enough.” He sighed and glanced over towards the tea. “She wanted to make sure that I was aware of … aware of things.” He cleared his throat and turned his gaze towards Tree, fast asleep on Talia’s bed. “Hard to live in this town and not know a thing or two about what happens around here.”
—
It was good, the fact that Daniel and Talia were happy together. Though Rory didn’t know either of them particularly well — despite apparently living with them, albeit temporarily — she thought she knew enough to know they both deserved that. Both had helped her when she’d needed help, after all. Talia was helping her still, offering to help her figure out how to shift safely so she wouldn’t hurt anyone else. She wondered if she ought to tell Daniel about all of that, wondered if it was unfair to stay here without making him more aware of the danger she presented.
She could still see it, those hazy, wolfish memories. Every time she closed her eyes for longer than a blink, some horrid event flashed in her mind. Chasing people through the woods, tearing through flesh and bone. She even remembered some of the wolf’s thoughts throughout — some of her thoughts, really, because a werewolf was not a balam. There was no separate spirit living within her, no secondary consciousness on which she could shove her crimes. The wolf was Rory; Rory was the wolf. Those things the beast had thought — the joy it had found in ripping people apart, the need for a hunt, the curiosity in how long it kept its prey alive before killing them — weren’t they Rory’s thoughts, too? Didn’t that mean that there was some part of her, however deeply buried, that wanted to do those things? The thought made her sick, but so did all of it.
She wished she could stop thinking about it, wished the memories would go back to whatever lockbox they’d been stuffed away in when she’d still been denying her nature, but it seemed like she couldn’t make that happen. The only memory still missing was the one surrounding the day she’d left her family behind. She used to long for it, used to need it to tell her what had happened, where they’d gone, but… she wasn’t so sure anymore. Maybe it would be better not to know. Maybe she should be happy that something was still locked away. After all, she’d learned that not every answer was an answer she wanted to have.
“Yeah, you guys have… a lot of tea,” she said absently, letting her eyes slide back over to Daniel. “Um, lots of different kinds, and stuff.” It felt awkward, stifled. She wasn’t sure how to talk to Daniel, but only because she wasn’t sure how to talk to anyone right now. Rory didn’t know who she was anymore. That made idle conversation a difficult thing to hold on to, and small talk hard to maintain. How could you talk to someone about tea when your world was crumbling around the edges? How could you offer a polite smile when everything you knew about yourself was a lie?
Daniel assured her that he’d still be around, that she wasn’t kicking him out, and Rory only nodded. She was too tired to argue with him, which was certainly saying something for Rory, who argued as easily as she breathed. She probably should have argued, should have insisted that this was his house and not hers and that he shouldn’t have to feel like he could only be around sometimes for her benefit. But part of Rory was afraid that if she pushed, she’d be asked to leave. And she wasn’t quite ready to go back to her own apartment, wasn’t quite ready to face the pieces of herself scattered around that made such little sense. She’d rather be here, rather hide here.
There was some relief, at least, in knowing that Daniel wasn’t entirely clueless. She’d figured he knew at least a little something about the supernatural based on his reaction to finding her in Nightfall Grove, but she hadn’t been certain until his response here. And she was glad for that. Rory wasn’t sure she was capable of juggling her own feelings and aches with the idea of having to keep the wool of the world at large pulled over someone else’s eyes. It was an exhausting thing, hiding an entire society from someone who lived within it. She certainly didn’t think she could manage it while she was already spiraling.
“You don’t have to be vague,” she pointed out with a tired sigh. “‘Aware of things.’ You can just, like… say it. We both know, anyway.” Rory was a werewolf. There was no more secret, there was no more denying. Rory was a werewolf, no matter how badly she wished she weren’t. She knew it. Talia knew it. And now, Daniel knew it, too. She wished she could think that that was the end of it, that those three people were the only ones aware, but she knew it wasn’t the case. Clem knew, despite how hard Rory had fought her on it. Owen, too. Mateo. Probably others. In some ways, Rory had been among the last to know what she was. The thought ached worse than the bullet hole. “Some people aren’t as quick at picking shit up as others,” she said, some quiet defensiveness rising in her chest. Was she so different from the people who lived in this town and had no idea that there was a supernatural world lurking beneath the surface? Probably not, in the grand scheme of things.
—
She didn’t want him to be vague about what she was, but Daniel struggled to not be vague about supernatural things around a shifter. (Sometimes he struggled not to be vague in general.) Even when he revealed himself to Talia, it was a stumbling chaotic mess that still made him cringe whenever he thought back to it. He still saw how Talia wrapped her arms around herself in heartbreak and betrayal, and sure, they found themselves together again with plans to make their relationship work. But he still tasted that betrayal and that need to keep things shoved out of sight between them. It was hard to be a weapon designed to kill her but choose to love her instead, especially as it meant opening himself up to situations with other shifters like this one with Rory.
“Okay,” he said with a slow nod of his head, “so you’re a werewolf.” He could say that out loud and not have to mention what he was. “And you were hurt by someone. That’s what she told me.” He turned his back to Rory and grabbed two mugs from the cabinet, pouring the tea for both of them. His gaze followed after the tea cascading into the mug, and he held his breath for a brief moment as he avoided the whole predicament of his identity as a ranger. With a quick blink of his eyes, his thoughts traveled again to wondering what all Rory had done in her life as a werewolf. He didn’t think she’d shift right then, but who could be certain?
Daniel placed her mug on the coffee table and wrapped his hands around his own as he returned to standing in the kitchen, giving her plenty of space. He questioned again exactly what he was doing—not just in that moment, but in how he conducted himself as a ranger. Nothing about him was the typical ranger experience, not with him dating a werewolf, befriending a lamia, and now sort of taking care of another werewolf. When he and Talia were first getting to know each other, he often questioned his sanity for disregarding the potential of her losing control and killing humans. Once he figured out she was a werewolf, he spent far too many of his nights wondering if she tore apart humans during her shifts. If she created the bloody, gory scenes that he sometimes found in the woods. Like when Maya—
He took a sip from his mug. No, no, he didn’t want to think about that again. He knew now that Talia had killed plenty of humans in her life—hunters, certainly—and he had to … live with that. Just as she had to live with him having killed shifters in his life. If Rory was running around killing innocent people then … well, everything his mother taught him told him that he needed to take care of the problem and kill her. That he needed to protect innocent humans. But it wasn’t like Daniel knew anything about her, though he could certainly speculate and wonder about it to himself. With his promise to Talia, he had to ignore everything he knew throughout his life and just let shifters live, despite what he might learn about them. (And it only became more complex and confusing when he thought too much about Talia’s past as a hunter of hunters, how she would be a target of his.)
Daniel hadn’t responded to that quick defensive comment from her, but he also wasn’t entirely sure what to say to it anyway. He didn’t want to pretend too much that Wicked’s Rest was the first place he ever learned about the supernatural, especially if Rory was someone important to Talia and might be someone he saw more often. He didn’t want to fall into some big lie where in a few months she found out that he was a ranger, and that he and Talia hid that from her—fuck, he realized similarities between his hiding his identity from Rory and his hiding his identity from Talia, except this time Talia was part of that secret. He hoped it wouldn’t turn into some mess if Rory ever found out.
He wondered if he could pry more information out of Rory to better answer his questions and figure out just how much of a danger she was.
Instead, he just leaned back against the counter and thought about what all he’d need to take out to his camper. Clothes, snacks, a couple books, some of his CDs, dog treats and toys for Tree. She’d probably be disappointed to not get to sleep in Talia’s bed.
He realized he was probably being weird, not saying anything to Rory, instead stuck in his head and thinking about staying in his camper for a while. “Do you … want to talk about what happened?” he asked, thinking that probably wasn’t the best question. “If it helps, I’ll tell you that I didn’t break my arm in a skiing accident by running into a tree. Fucking awful lie. But I was attacked by some cat-like creature, and I … escaped. Got away from it.”
—
She flinched at the simplicity of his statement. You’re a werewolf. Even now, an argument rose up in her throat, an urge to tell him he was wrong despite the fact that she knew for certain he wasn’t. Would she ever be able to shake that? Or was it a part of her now, something permanently lodged in her throat? She was a werewolf. She was not a balam, though she still felt like one. She still felt the urge to murmur reassurances to an ocelot spirit that had never existed, still wanted to try a partial shift despite knowing it wasn’t possible. She felt so unsteady, like she had no idea who she was supposed to be. Talia could help her with parts of it, but not all of it. Rory didn’t know if there was anyone who could help her with all of it.
Daniel, it seemed, didn’t have all the facts. Rory was grateful for that, even if she already knew she’d been right to trust Talia with all of it. It made sense to share pieces with Daniel, especially if Daniel already knew what Talia was. But Rory was glad it seemed that Talia hadn’t given him the full story, was glad he didn’t know that she was a werewolf who was supposed to be something else.
She knew it was silly, but the thought of it burned with a level of humiliation she couldn’t quite wrap her mind around. Talia, she knew, would tell her she had nothing to be embarrassed about, but she was, anyway. She’d argued with so many people, so adamantly. She’d torched her friendship with Clem, had missed out on Oliver’s life the last few months he was alive, had driven Guillermo away. She’d refused to let Owen show her the truth, had told Mateo he was stupid. And for what? To have to crawl back to those who were still around and tell them she’d been wrong after all? For someone as proud as Rory, that was almost worse than the realization she’d been lied to.
So it was nice that Daniel got a simpler version of the story. To Daniel, Rory was just a werewolf who’d fallen on hard times. He didn’t need to know the details of it, didn’t need to know that there was more to the story than that, didn’t need to know how much of it was her own stupid fault. It wasn’t quite a lie, even if it wasn’t quite the truth, either. Rory could accept that, could roll with it.
She took the mug when he offered it to her, letting it warm her hands. “That about covers it,” she said, the words sticking in her throat. She was a werewolf who’d been hurt by someone. It was funny to see it boiled down into something so simple. Things always felt so much bigger when you were the one living them. Daniel could condense it into just a few words; for Rory, it was the biggest thing on Earth.
For a moment, the pair of them sat in silence. It certainly wasn’t the comfortable kind of silences she’d experienced with Talia since arriving, but it wasn’t the most stifling thing in the world, either. Rory stared down at the mug of tea in her hand, trying to make out her reflection in the murky surface. It was more of a distorted silhouette than anything else.
When Daniel spoke again, it caught her off guard. She jumped a little, heart leaping into her throat for no reason as she glanced back up at him. She tried for a smile, but it was a weak attempt that didn’t quite meet her eyes. “I mean, I figured you didn’t run into a tree,” she admitted. “I didn’t know it was something like… that, though. Something supernatural. I just… I don’t know. I don’t know what I thought.” It probably didn’t matter. She’d learned that her assumptions weren’t particularly good ones when it came to things like this, hadn’t she? Rory could no longer trust her own judgment; she never should have in the first place.
Absently, she tightened her grip on her mug. Did she want to talk about it? At first, she wasn’t sure. But when she opened her mouth, words spilled out, anyway. “I was in the woods,” she said quietly. “I don’t usually… I mean, I’ve never been able to remember it before. What I do when I’m shifted. It’s like… there was this wall up, between me when I’m me and me when I’m that. But this time, when I shifted back on Talia’s porch with a — with a silver bullet in me… I don’t know. It’s like it broke the wall down. I remember being in the woods. I remember smelling her, I remember going after her. And I remember her taking the shot. I remember it hurt.” She swallowed, feeling sick. “I just wanted to get away after that, to run. I remember…” She trailed off, squeezing her eyes shut. “I remember I didn’t want to die, mostly. I remember that.”
—
Daniel expected her to know that he had been lying—all the joking about Tree’s name being traumatic made it clear at the time that she wasn’t falling for his bullshit. Even he didn’t believe his lie at the time. “That’s okay,” he replied with a shrug of his shoulders. It didn’t matter to him what he thought he was lying about at the time. “A skiing incident sounded more realistic than some supernatural creature attacking me.”
He wasn’t the best with identifying or understanding his own feelings, let alone the feelings of someone else, but everything about Rory’s demeanor told him that she was struggling—which, of course she was; she had just been shot at by another ranger. She was yet another victim of this endless killing cycle that he was growing tired of. Even when he first met Wyatt, he threw out a comment against the neverending back and forth where hunters killed supernatural beings, who then killed hunters, who then killed supernatural beings, and back and forth for time eternal. He wanted out of it years ago, long before Maya’s murder, right around the time he had seen too many of his friends killed. (Sometimes he still saw their deaths when he slept—how he recalled one friend’s piercing screams right before she drew her last breath, or how another gurgled and gagged on his blood as Daniel held him in those final moments. He’d gotten a little better since moving in with Talia, but sometimes he still sat up panting for air or jumping out of the bed ready to fight, especially as he sensed a shifter nearby. He never knew how to explain it to Talia, that sensing her after a nightmare memory sent his body into fight mode as he reached for where he hid weapons around her cabin.)
Rory seemed smaller as she spoke, and he held back any grimace or disgust as she explained that she usually didn’t recall what she did as a werewolf—and he kept his face especially neutral as she described stalking and hunting a ranger in the woods. He had told Talia that it was probably a random by chance hunt, not a ranger specifically going after Rory. Her memory of it confirmed that for him. Maybe she was up on the bounty board, maybe she wasn’t. Though Daniel wasn’t certain when he would go back to The 3 Daggers anyway, not when he felt more out of place there than usual.
(And he guessed that she would be the exact type of shifter that he would have hunted in the past. He would have caught wind of her, tracked and stalked her, and deemed her a danger to humans. If she went after a human that she smelled in the woods, well, he could only imagine what she did other times when shifted …)
“I’m sorry,” he said softly. If he wanted to push further, he probably could. Find out what else she recalled. But he didn’t want to do that to her and learn that information. He didn’t want to view her as his prey right then, not when she’d be living with him and Talia for a while. Not when he knew he would need to comfort Talia. “Ain’t the same situation but … I get the … the not wanting to die.” Daniel sighed. “I remember that. Practically begging the universe to keep me alive as I got away.” He paused and took a sip of his tea as he tried to remember everything that went through his head that night. It was all still bits and pieces of memories that he wanted to block from his memory, but he recalled thinking about Talia, Robbie, and his parents while Eve bandaged him. He glanced down into his tea as he thought once again about reaching out to his parents before it was too late and he never had an opportunity to see them again. “Maybe it’s fucked up, but I guess it made me realize how much I wanted to live.”
—
“Not to somebody who knows about supernatural creatures,” she replied with a snort, though she understood what he was saying. When you didn’t know how much knowledge the person you were speaking to had about the supernatural, you figured anything sounded more realistic than the truth. Madison found it easier to accept that a wolf had chased her through the streets of town and attacked her than she had to jump to the possibility of werewolves being responsible, and how many other people did the same? How many impossible things had Rory seen explained away with ludicrous handwaves that made no sense whatsoever? A skiing accident wasn’t the weirdest thing Daniel could have come up with, all things considered. Rory knew that.
Maybe Rory herself had fallen into something similar. She’d spent years now explaining away details that should have acted as dead giveaways that something wasn’t right with her, had found excuses for every difference, big and small, that existed between her and her siblings. She’d invented a world in which every hint to her nature was just a quirk that had to do with something else entirely, told herself a bedtime story where she fit in to a family she was no longer sure how she belonged to. She couldn’t laugh too much about the ridiculous things humans believed when she’d spent her entire life clinging to a lie that was just as silly, could she? Madison let herself believe that a giant wolf materialized in a populated area and chased her through town; Rory let herself believe that she was a balam who only shifted successfully when the moon was full because the spirit that lived in her chest liked the way the light of it felt on its fur. Both were silly, childish things. Both ached more with retrospect, with all the things she knew now. The wolf that had chased Madison was not a wolf, but a monster. And the monster had done far worse than chase her friend. The monster had torn people to shreds; the monster had ruined Clem’s life; the monster had killed without hesitation. The monster was Rory.
What a horrible thing to accept. What a horrible thing to deny.
She didn’t look at Daniel as she spoke, didn’t want to map out the lines on his face and try to determine what they meant. He’d be disgusted with her, surely, because how could he not be? How could anyone hear her story and not think less of her? She could hardly claim to be a silly little girl who’d acted without purpose when people were dead because of her. She thought the right to claim ignorance had to end somewhere. The line had to exist before the pile of corpses left in a person’s wake, didn’t it? Regardless of what Talia said, regardless of what Rory wanted to cling to. People were dead, and she had killed them. Didn’t that kind of mean she deserved exactly what she got? Didn’t that mean she probably deserved worse?
Daniel spoke, recounting his own experience. Not the same thing, exactly, Rory knew. Daniel had been attacked by a creature, and Rory was a creature who attacked people. Wasn’t there a world out there, somewhere, where it was her who tore into him in those woods? Wasn’t there a universe where it was her he was trying to get away from, all the while thinking that he didn’t want to die? She was sure the people she remembered killing now had felt the same, was sure most of them felt the same thing she’d felt with that bullet in her gut, the same thing Daniel felt when he was trying to get away from whatever attacked him. Rory tried to push the thought from her mind, because she didn’t want it. She didn’t want to think about those people, even if she couldn’t think about anything else. “I’m glad you didn’t die,” she offered, still staring into her mug. “And I guess… It’s good that you realized that, right? Good that you know it now. Even if learning it sucked.” Was the same true for her? Was it good that she knew what she was now, even if learning it sucked? She didn’t know. Maybe she’d have a better idea sometime in the near future.
—
Daniel grinned as he heard her snort and retort that she wouldn’t have been surprised by his story. Of course he knew that—even when he lied about skiing, he knew that it wouldn’t be too surprising for her to learn about a supernatural creature attacking him. Her retort reminded him more of that second time they met, when she was probably more like herself than when they first met. He thought she still had some of that flame and fight in her—good, if she expected to make it out of another situation with a ranger, which he guessed was only bound to happen, if she was shifting outside of the full moon and going on bloodthirsty hunts.
Though even with that, he thought that maybe it’d be good for another ranger to take her out if she was possibly going on killing sprees. He wasn’t entirely sure what Talia’s plan was for Rory, other than taking care of her for the time being. He knew very little about their relationship, and he didn’t know if it was his place to ask too many questions. Maybe Talia had some sort of plan to help Rory with being a werewolf—he knew a little bit about Talia teaching younger werewolves in her former pack, but he also knew that those teachings went back to hunting hunters.
All Daniel could do was trust that Talia knew what she was doing. That’s what he reminded himself. He needed to turn off that instinct—and god, it would be so easy to–
“Yeah, guess so,” he said with a sigh. He worried for a moment that maybe he had said a little too much, hinted too closely that he wasn’t exactly human. Rory now knew that he was aware of the supernatural world, and he would need to be careful about what he talked about in the cabin—what he said to Talia when they sat out on the front porch or when she came to chat with him in the camper. He didn’t want Rory to accidentally hear something that she shouldn’t. He didn’t want her connecting too many threads just yet. And though he guessed that Rory’s hands were covered in blood from indiscriminate killings as her werewolf raged through the nights, he knew that his own hands dripped blood from all the lives he took—lives taken as he planned and calculated exactly when and how to kill a shifter, as he justified the reasoning for their death. He wondered which was worse, sometimes.
“Anyway, I’m glad you were able to get here—to a safe place,” Daniel said, and he tried to force himself to fully believe that. He took another drink from his tea before placing it down on the counter. He glanced out the window towards the woods behind Talia’s cabin, as if he expected to see a familiar ranger creeping through the trees. He told Talia that he would inspect the area to make sure he didn’t spot any familiar signs of a ranger stalking their prey. He should probably do that before he lost daylight.
“I’m gonna grab some of my stuff and take Tree for a walk.” As if she hadn’t already walked and hiked plenty, but it seemed like an easy way to get out of this conversation before he revealed too much about himself and learned more about Rory. Tree could tag along to sniff out anything—or to chase and catch chickcharnies. “I’ll be back in about an hour or so. If you need anything …” He trailed off as he turned towards the notepad on the refrigerator. He jotted down his cell phone number, tore off the sheet of paper, and placed it on the coffee table. “Just call or text me. Ain’t gonna be far.” Close enough to get back in case a ranger came knocking. “Think of what you want for dinner the next few nights. I’ll be making a grocery run tomorrow.”
—
Being here felt a little like lying about something, though Rory knew it wasn’t the case. She was more honest now than she’d been her entire life, even if she’d never known she was lying before. She had accepted the part of herself she’d long been denying, had opened up to Talia about most of what she’d done. (There were still some things she didn’t know how to compartmentalize, of course. She hadn’t told Talia about Clem. She wasn’t sure what to do with that information herself yet.) She was having a conversation with Daniel that was far more open than the ones they’d had in the past, even if at least some of the truth had come to him in way of Talia letting him know. And still, she felt as though she was lying.
Maybe it was the guilt. In fact, it was probably the guilt. She was sitting here on the floor of someone else’s living room, and she probably shouldn’t have been. Her gut ached where Talia had dug the bullet out of her, her head hurt with all the things she was coming to terms with, her chest felt tight with the knowledge that she’d been lied to, and it still wasn’t punishment enough. How many people had she killed? She’d need to start up a count, mark down the ones she remembered. She knew it was enough that she didn’t deserve this softness, knew it was enough that Daniel ought to be looking at her differently than it was. But she did not correct him, did not try to convince him he was wrong to treat her with kindness. And wasn’t that a lie of sorts? She was letting someone believe something she knew wasn’t the truth. Wasn’t that presumably the same thing her parents had done to her?
She made no move to correct it, though. She didn’t open her mouth to tell Daniel the truth, to warn him away from the monster. Maybe that made her a coward; maybe it just made her selfish. Either way, she didn’t think it was a good thing, even if she had no intention of changing it.
“Thanks,” she said quietly. “I’m glad I got here, too.” She didn’t want to think about what might have happened if she hadn’t. If not Talia’s, where else could she have gone? Guillermo was… gone. (She wouldn’t let herself think the other word.) So was Oliver. She couldn’t show up on Harvey or Cleo’s doorstep like this, or Madison’s. She didn’t even know where Owen lived. And even if she had, would he have known what to do? He knew about the supernatural, sure, but did he know how to dig a bullet out of someone? Talia had been the only safe place she’d had available to her. It was lucky that she’d been nearby enough to make it here. Her sitting here — her breathing, still… It was all just luck.
Daniel’s voice pulled her from her thoughts. She thought it was odd, walking the dog when he’d only just come home, but she didn’t say that. She was tired and, shitty as it was, kind of wanted him to go so that she could relax a little easier. She nodded, still looking down at her mug of tea. “All right,” she said, looking up when he placed the paper on the table. “Yeah. I’ll do that.” After a moment’s hesitation, she added in a quiet voice, “Thanks, Daniel.”
She knew it wasn’t quite enough. But, god, what would have been?
TIMING: current.
LOCATION: the mines.
PARTIES: @danielabrams & @vengeancedemon.
SUMMARY: daniel and emilio both respond to messages they've gotten about free knives, but find something else waiting for them instead.
CONTENT WARNINGS: none!
Daniel glanced both ways as he darted out across the road to get back to where he parked his truck. He stopped at a few spots to buy a few needed things—dog toys, dog food, and groceries—but now he was ready to get back on home. He opened his truck door and tossed the bags into the seat. A shape of white caught his eye, and he turned his attention to his truck’s windshield where he spotted a piece of paper tucked beneath the windshield wiper. He frowned, guessing that maybe someone hit his truck and left behind their contact information. He yanked the paper out and noticed instantly how someone used magazine clippings to write a message to him. He turned his head around to look around the area, an attempt to spot whoever left something ominous like this on his truck. No one stuck out as specifically suspicious for this message, although any of these people could be a suspect for something else. No one could be trusted in this town.
He looked back down at the note in hand. It read: Free Knives Free Worms Free Free Free Knives Come Get Knifed. The note included an address, and though he knew he had never been to the address, he recognized it as on the outskirts of Gatlin Fields. Daniel was not interested in any free knives or free worms (well, he was sort of interested), but he guessed that this was a threat. Someone wanted to draw him out to a remote location in Gatlin Fields. Someone knew something about him, and he needed to get to the bottom of this. To threaten that person’s life to leave him alone.
He crumpled the paper in his hand and threw it into the floor of his truck. The truck door slammed shut behind him as he got inside and started the engine. He knew how to get close to the address, and if not, he could figure it out once he got into the neighborhood. He sped off down the street, weaving through the various side roads until he found himself near the address that the note gave him. He refused to park his truck too close—it was too noticeable and red—so he found a spot to park off the side of the road in a wooded area. He kept his truck out of sight and crept through the woods to the address, where he found an abandoned building. It looked like it was a store back in the day, and the glass windows were shattered. He peered inside, noting the glass across the scratched and dirtied wooden floorboards.
The sound of movement grabbed his attention, and he turned his attention towards the wooded area where he heard the sound. Daniel took out one of his knives and headed towards the direction of the movement. A low whistle rang through the woods, and he guessed that something was drawing him in for something. Murder, probably. Something wanted to murder him—he was certain about that.
Further in the woods, he located an old mining adit, which gave him a brief moment of pause as he considered if he should go into the mine. He grew up enough in coal country to recognize the dangers of abandoned adits and shafts, but he was also a ranger who hunted supernatural beasts in mines. Daniel may have almost died recently, but that was not going to stop him risking it all again. He patted where he kept his handgun hidden, in case he needed something other than a knife for a quick slit throat. With knife in hand, he crept through the adit, taking his time with each step to not alert anyone—or anything—to his presence in the tunnel.
Something banged against the metal tracks on the ground, and Daniel turned towards the sound as it echoed through the mine. He wanted the element of surprise, so he moved slowly and quietly, barely making a sound, until he recognized a familiar human shape in the mine. The person who wanted him dead. He was about to jump at them, hold his knife to their throat, and demand to know what they wanted from him. But as the figure turned around, Daniel groaned and rolled his eyes. “What the fuck, Milio?! Did you fucking bring me down here?”
—-
Someone knocked on his door. It was something that always set Emilio on edge, something that made him uneasy every goddamn time it happened. People who knew him knew that the lock was broken and that he rarely answered knocks, anyway, so they were happy enough to let themselves in. People who wanted to hire him tended to stroll in under the assumption that you didn’t need to knock when entering a business. This meant that people who knocked belonged in a third, unknowable category, and that made him uneasy.
He approached the door with caution. It could have been Diana again, he figured, come for another quick case like the one they’d worked before. Maybe one of his neighbors, come to tell him about something happening in the building. He held a knife in his hand, anyway, ready to use it if need be. He opened the door a crack, suspicious eyes ready to meet whoever was on the other side…
…only to find no one waiting instead. His brow furrowed as he took in the empty space in front of the door. Opening it fully, Emilio stuck his head out into the hallway to look around, but there was no sign of anyone. Not impossible for someone to have made it from the door to the stairwell in the time it had taken Emilio to get up to answer it, but suspicion curled in his gut all the same. Knocking on the door and then not waiting for anyone to respond before running back to the stairwell was a strange behavior. Emilio stepped out into the hall, though he knew whoever it was could be out of the building and down the street long before he made it to the ground floor of his building. Then, a flash of something white caught his attention.
There was a note taped to his door. He tilted his head, reaching out to yank it down and unfold it. The letters were… odd. Not typed or handwritten, but cut from magazines and newspapers. It only served to further set Emilio on edge. His eyes darted over the letters carefully. FREE KNIFE, the note read. FREE KNIFE FOR FREE. FREE GOOD KNIFE. COME GET FREE KNIFE. GOOD. Emilio’s eyes narrowed, and he crumpled the note in his hand.
This was a trap. He knew this was a trap. The scar on his chest — the one from the knife wound that lurked beneath the ones Ishan had carved into him in his quest to remove his dead heart — itched with the memory of the last trap he’d fallen for. He didn’t think this was the same people — the stylistic differences in the laying of the trap were too stark to ignore — but it could have been. And if it wasn’t, it meant there was someone else out there trying to lay traps for Emilio to fall into. He needed to investigate. He needed to find out who wanted him at the address on the note and why.
He grabbed some supplies from the living room. Knives, stakes, holy water, iron, silver. He grabbed the flamethrower, too, strapped it carefully onto his back. Whatever was waiting for him in Gatlin Fields, he’d be ready for it. He got onto his bike, drove out to the location indicated. As the buildings grew sparser, his paranoia grew. Someone was drawing him to an isolated location under false pretenses. It could only be with the intent to harm.
It didn’t take him long to find the mine entrance, didn’t take him long to venture inside. He no longer had a slayer’s night vision to make the journey easier, so he flipped on the flashlight on his phone and stuck it in his pocket with the light shining out. It was dim, but it allowed him to see and keep his hands free. He gripped a knife so tightly his knuckles were white, moving quietly through the empty mine shaft. He didn’t know how long he’d been searching when he heard a sound that spun him around, knife at the ready. But instead of one of the vampires who’d killed him or the angry husband of some client he’d helped get evidence of an affair, the face that greeted him was Daniel. This did not entirely set Emilio at ease. He narrowed his eyes at the ranger, trying to determine if Daniel might want to kill him. He didn’t think so. But how could he know for certain?
“Did you leave a note on my door?” He demanded, though he wasn’t even sure Daniel knew where he lived. But then, Daniel asked a question of his own, and Emilio’s confusion only grew. “Why would I bring you down here? You’re the one who brought me.”
—
“No, I ain’t left a note on your door,” Daniel replied. “Don’t even know where you live.” Maybe he should change that sometime, figure out where the slayer lived in case he ever needed him for some sort of hunting situation. But Emilio’s confusion at Daniel’s question only made Daniel confused too. Emilio did not exactly seem like the type to lure him into a mine to kill him, but anything was possible in this weird town. Maybe the slayer wanted him dead for some weird reason.
“I ain’t got a clue why you’d bring me down here. And I did not bring you here. Why the fuck would I do that, man?” He wished he still had the note to prove that he received the weird message about getting knifed, but the crumpled piece of paper was on the floorboard of his truck. (Also, what did the note mean by “get knifed?” Someone wanted him dead. That’s for certain.) If he hadn’t parked so far away, maybe he would have suggested going back to his truck just to prove how correct he was.
A bang of metal just slightly off in the distance caught his attention. Daniel glanced over towards Emilio, not wanting to fully remove his attention from the slayer just in case he tried to attack him. He wanted to believe that Emilio would not jump him, but he could not be certain. Some hunters were very paranoid individuals—Daniel included—and the dark mine tunnel and strange notes only increased that feeling of paranoia. But another bang and shuffling of feet made Daniel turn his gaze away from Emilio and towards the other sounds in the tunnel.
Another quick glance over towards Emilio. Daniel put a finger over his lips to indicate they should be quiet, and then he motioned towards the direction of the sound further into the tunnel. If they both received weird notes, maybe whoever wanted to kill them was further down the tunnel. He stepped forward, his back now facing Emilio. He kept his focus on where the sounds came from as he prepared for a fight.
In a flash, the tunnels lit up with sparse light from old lanterns hanging along the sides of the tunnel and up on the ceiling. He blinked a few times as his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting. Though he could somewhat see in the dark, the wooden beams supporting the tunnel walls were clearer in his vision, with shadows from the dim lanterns dancing along the beams. Not too far ahead of the two men, the metal railway tracks split off into two tunnels. Daniel was not certain which of the two had the noise from earlier. He opened his mouth to whisper to Emilio, not wanting either of them to echo through the tunnels and further let their potential murderer (or murderers) know their exact location. But the shadow of a figure moved just slightly at the entry to the tunnel on the left. He turned towards Emilio and motioned towards it, though the shadow was now gone.
—
A compelling argument, but also exactly what Daniel would say if he’d somehow figured out where Emilio lived and left a note on his door to lure him into the mines. There were plenty of ways he could have figured it out, of course; he could have asked one of their mutual friends, especially one of the other hunters in town. (Did Daniel know Eve? Jade? Henri? Probably all three. Hunters tended to run in the same circles, after all.) He could have also seen the entry for Axis on the internet. It didn’t have Emilio’s name on it, but Daniel knew he was a P.I., and there weren’t that many of those in town. (Less whose reviews spelled out a ‘personality’ that matched Emilio’s.) Emilio narrowed his eyes at Daniel, letting the expression show how little he believed him.
“I don’t know. Maybe you want to stab me. Maybe you’re jealous and angry because I keep winning bets and you keep losing them. Maybe you don’t like that my hair is very good and yours is not. There is a list with many reasons.” Most of them made up on the spot, but Emilio wasn’t sure what else to think. Either Daniel had lured him down here for something or another — offering an opponent who was familiar enough to be of some comfort — or someone else had lured both of them here for reasons unclear. The first option was certainly preferable.
Unfortunately, the second option was beginning to look more and more likely. The sound of something banging off in the distance — muffled, thanks to Emilio’s shitty hearing, but unmistakable all the same — was a sure sign that the pair of them weren’t alone in this mine tunnel. Either a third person had been lured here alongside them or the person responsible for bringing them here was making their presence known. Emilio was inclined to believe the latter, if only because he didn’t want to imagine who else might have gotten a note on their door.
In any case, the confirmation of another presence evaporated the petty argument he’d been prepared to launch into with Daniel… at least for the time being. He still rolled his eyes as Daniel put a finger to his lips, raising his brows and tilting his head in a way he hoped communicate a response of no shit. He followed behind the ranger, anyway, knife still gripped in his hand. He kept half an eye ahead of them and half an eye on their backs, making sure no one could sneak up from behind. It was almost funny, how easily he and Daniel fell into teamwork despite the argument that had not yet dried up entirely.
Dim light flooded the tunnel, and Emilio grimaced. Disorienting, his mind noted. Was this the plan, then? Draw them further into the tunnel, disorient them, then attack? Nothing came towards them right away, though it didn’t comfort Emilio so much as it did the opposite. Was someone waiting to attack, then? Preparing something they could not be ready for? He saw a shadow dance into one of the tunnels just a moment before Daniel motioned towards it and nodded. Guess we’re going left.
Carefully, he nudged Daniel in that direction to indicate the words without saying them. As the two stepped into the tunnel, the lanterns on the wall flickered to life, bathing it in the same dull glow they’d just stepped away from. The shadow moved up ahead, just out of reach of the lanterns’ light. He couldn’t tell what it was, but he could tell it was there. He could tell it was roughly the size of a person, and maybe the shape of one. He didn’t know much more than that. Tapping Daniel, Emilio spoke in a low tone, careful to keep his voice from echoing. “Sense anything?”
—
Daniel huffed and shook his head at Emilio. “No, no, no,” he said as he held up his hand in protest. “I ain’t always losing bets. Don’t even try that shit with me.” He was about to argue that his hair was very good, actually, unlike Emilio’s, but that was a stupid point. Emilio’s hair did look good, and now that Daniel’s was growing out again and the curls reappearing on the top of his head, he knew his hair would look good again. Soon. No reason to argue this at all, actually. Not when they were both in an abandoned mining tunnel due to mysterious notes. Daniel knew that he didn’t give Emilio a note to lure him down here to kill him, because he didn’t really have a good reason to kill Emilio. But maybe Emilio had a good reason to kill him? Maybe this was all some weird confusing ruse to stab him.
As they crept through the tunnel towards the sound, Daniel thought about potential insults to throw at Emilio once they figured this all out. He needed some good ammunition to really sink those insults into Emilio. Really make his blood boil over a petty argument that was only for their own stupid fun (at least, he thought it was fun, even if there was the potential that Emilio wanted to stab him. Maybe he shouldn’t have turned his back towards him because what if … no, he would be fast enough to stop Emilio. Maybe not as fast as he was a few months ago, but still fast enough, he decided).
The further into the tunnel they went, the more he realized that maybe this was a bad idea. But he couldn’t help but want to know who or what else was here? Why did someone possibly leave notes for him and Emilio to come to this place? (There was still a small chance it was Emilio all along.) He continued on their path to the tunnel on the left. Emilio’s nudge at least let him know that the slayer was going to join him—unless he was actually nudging him along to kill him. No, nope, still didn’t make sense. He doubted Emilio would kill him over a stupid mime picture. Probably.
Daniel caught sight of the figure’s shadow again, but also more of their figure as they dodged behind the curve of the tunnel. He caught a glimpse of something striped on their arm as they ducked out of his line of vision. Something humanoid, he guessed, though he was not sure what it could be. His eyes stayed on the tunnel where the figure disappeared. “No,” he whispered back, wishing that he could say it was a shifter or a beast. “You?”
—
“You lose every bet!” Emilio argued, even though it wasn’t true. Daniel had technically won the bet with the avalance, even if Emilio continued to refuse to admit his own defeat. (Daniel would have been impaled without Emilio’s makeshift flamethrowers, which meant the victory was actually Emilio’s and not Daniel’s, which meant Daniel lost. It was simple stuff.) No argument from Daniel on the status of Emilio’s hair, which only served to prove Emilio right, actually. Of course Daniel couldn’t pretend Emilio’s hair wasn’t better than his, because it clearly was.
Of course, none of this was strictly important. Or, at the very least, none of this was as important as the mine tunnel stretching forward ahead of them, dim lights quietly illuminating each uneasy step they took. As much as he’d love to blame Daniel for all of this, Emilio was more and more convinced that neither of them knew what they were walking into here. It only served to make him more nervous. If they’d both been lured into this tunnel, there must have been a reason. The only common ground items Emilio could think of was that they were hunters (or former hunters, though that wasn’t something particularly well known) and that they both had a connection to Talia. The hunter path was the more obvious one — people tried to take out hunters all the time, it wasn’t so far fetched to think someone might invent a more elaborate way to do so — but the Talia connection made him more nervous. If this was connected to her somehow, Emilio needed to warn her.
The thoughts swirled in his mind, a whirlwind of paranoia and unease. He was glad Daniel had so easily descended into silence as they moved forward, half because he, too, wanted to keep up the element of surprise as much as they could and half because he wasn’t sure he could keep up with the petty bickering when his mind was this on edge.
If he had a heart in his chest, it might have been pounding. With every scurry in the shadows, his paranoia grew. He caught a flash of something — stripes? — but it was gone before he could process it. Daniel didn’t sense anything, which meant this wasn’t a shifter. But… the question turned on Emilio, and it felt heavy. It sat on his chest, tightening like a vice as he debated how to answer. If he said no and it ended up being something undead, wouldn’t that out him? If he said yes and it wasn’t, wouldn’t the effect be the same? “Hard to say,” he settled on, straddling the line between the two. “Lots of celestial roes in these mines, so it’s always a little bit of a… constant down here. This that we’re after wouldn’t be that, though. Don’t think the M.O. matches anything undead, either.” It was a cop out, he knew. It was the only thing he could go with. “You know we’re walking into a trap, right?”
—
Daniel glanced at Emilio from the corner of his eye, uncertain about the answer given to him. He was expecting more of a yes or no answer, but maybe they were not close enough to the being for Emilio to sense it. He doubted this was anything like the Diana situation, where she could no longer sense fae from a mistake she made on a hunt. That would be way too much of a weird coincidence. His answer mostly made sense, so Daniel shoved away any questions as to why it wasn’t a simple yes or no. “Right,” he said quietly. “Might be fae then.” He tried to run through his mental list of the few fae things he knew, but he wouldn’t know until they got closer.
He gave a quick nod, and this time fully turned his head to look at Emilio. “Absolutely we are,” he replied as a stupid smirk etched its way onto his face. He knew as soon as he crumpled the note left on his truck that this was only going to lead to some sort of trap. “But we can handle it.” Daniel and Emilio already hunted together multiple times. He knew the other man was covered in weapons and cans of hairspray, just as he already knew how the other handled himself in a fight. He saw how the slayer handled a stake and pushed it through spawns’ hearts that first night they met, winning that first bet of theirs. Emilio may have moved slower than Daniel (though Daniel knew he had slowed down since his own recent injuries), but he moved quick enough to not end up with his own head chopped off when Daniel swung his axe and killed the wight.
If he and someone else had to be lured down into the mines by some unknown being, he was glad that it was with Emilio.
“Come on.” Daniel moved forward through the dimly lit tunnel. The tunnel and wooden beams creaked with age. He carefully stepped under the beams, giving them a quick glance over as he hoped that they wouldn’t collapse. A collapsed mine concerned him more than whatever being lured them down here. Easier to kill whatever wanted to kill them than to escape the earth falling down onto them.
They turned the corner, and Daniel paused as he assessed the tunnel ahead of them. Still nothing. Whatever this was knew how to stay out of their sight, and it moved with an eerie silence through the tunnel. The sounds from earlier were to draw the two men deeper into the trap, yet now it slipped like a ghost through the shadows and crevices of the tunnel. He furrowed his brows together as he stepped forward to move deeper into the tunnel. He knew how incredibly stupid this was and how easy it would be to turn back around, but he was too deep now. He needed to find out what it was.
One step forward. Another step, but something pressed into his ankle and down Daniel fell, his arms held out to catch him as he fell into the dirt of the tunnel. He bit back a curse as he heard his fall echo through the tunnel. He glanced back behind him to spot what he tripped over, but nothing was there except for the dirt and railway. He furrowed his brows as he could have sworn that he felt something against his ankle right before he tripped. He stood back up and dusted his hands off on his jeans as he looked around. He hadn’t really done anything like this since his accident, so maybe he was just rusty. He looked towards Emilio and held up his hand. “Don’t even fucking start with me,” he warned, feeling … well, feeling very embarrassed about tripping over nothing.
—
Daniel didn’t question his response to what should have been a simple yes or no question, and Emilio figured that must have meant it was a convincing enough lie to pass. Really, though, he figured he hadn’t needed anything too intense to fool Daniel. He’d given the ranger no reason to think he was anything but a slayer, after all. Daniel had seen him fight, had seen the way he moved. There was a certain style that was hard for anyone but a hunter to capture, and Emilio boasted it with ease. Why would Daniel think anything beyond the assumption Emilio had not corrected him on? Guilt gnawed at him. He did his best to ignore it. “Or something that doesn’t fit in any of them,” he added. “Shit in this town doesn’t always play by the rules.” Sometimes, things were neatly fae, beast, or undead. Other times, Wicked’s Rest twisted reality into something unlike anything you’d find outside of the town’s limits. Emilio had learned to roll with the town’s punches well enough, but only most of the time. There were days he still came up a little short.
Cases like this gave him more struggle now than they might have a year ago. A year ago, he might have been able to return Daniel’s grin at the thought of knowingly walking into a trap. There was something fun about getting the upper hand on someone who thought they had the upper hand on you, wasn’t there? And yet, all Emilio could think about was the alley outside the Wormhole, and the trap he’d stumbled into there. All he could remember was the knife sinking into his chest and piercing his heart.
Daniel’s confidence eased his mind just a little. In that alley, after all, he’d been alone. There had been no one watching his back, no one making sure he wouldn’t fall to the fate someone else had planned for him. He might have thought, up until a few seconds ago, that Daniel might have been the one to lure him into this mine, but he was still pretty sure he trusted the guy. They’d teamed up before without incident, even hung out after the fact to share a few drinks at the bar. He thought Daniel would have his back; he knew he would have Daniel’s. And so, he nodded in agreement with the assessment that they could take whatever this mine might throw at them. “As long as we both know,” he retorted with a sharp exhale through his nose, trying to ease his addled mind.
He let Daniel take the lead as they made their way down the tunnel, busying himself with keeping his eyes on their backs to make sure nothing was sneaking in behind them to box them in. So far, they seemed all good on that front. Emilio was just about to comment as much when Daniel suddenly tripped in front of him, falling onto the ground. Immediately, Emilio was on edge. His knife raised, his eyes wide, he scanned the tunnel to see what had caused Daniel to fall. Except… there was nothing. No tripwire, no rope, not even a rock in his path. Had he tripped over his own fucking feet? In the middle of a hunt?
“Don’t start with you?” He hissed lowly, voice quiet despite the fact that Daniel’s fall had ruined whatever element of surprise they had going for them. “You have been walking for… what, thirty-something years? And you’re still bad at it?” He threw up his hands, walking around Daniel. “We might as well keep going. They know where we are now, thanks to your —”
The ground beneath his feet felt wrong. There was a decline, an inconsistency, like when you were walking down a set of stairs and missed one. Emilio stumbled, and then fell, somehow falling down despite there being no sort of visible decline present. And yet, when he landed — in a graceless heap, on his back, limbs bruised and aching — the ceiling seemed… farther up than it should have. “What the fuck,” he grumbled, struggling to his feet. He took a step forward, running into… something. Experimentally, he lifted his foot and dropped it. It made contact with some invisible step. He lifted his other foot, set it beside the first. Definitely a step. “What the fuck?” It seemed to bear repeating.
—
Daniel glared at Emilio, even though he knew how fair it was for the slayer to be upset with him. He really just ruined everything they had going for them by walking through the tunnel. Whatever lured them down there knew they were there, but they could have still possibly surprised them. But now his loud stumble onto the ground left an echo through the tunnel that anything down knew they were here.
Emilio walked past him, and Daniel grumbled, “Go fuck yourself.” He looked back at where he tripped over his own two feet as he tried to figure out what he tripped over. He didn’t believe for one second it was his own feet. He could sneak up on shifters and beasts in complete silence without any tripping or stumbling. He didn’t trip! He knew he felt something against his ankle right before he fell forward. He stroked his mustache as he pondered what made him fall, but the sound of Emilio falling grabbed his attention as he whipped his head around thinking that something attacked Emilio. Instead he found the slayer collapsed onto the ground with nothing around him. “You learn how to fucking walk, asshole,” Daniel said, throwing the insult right back at him.
Daniel raised a brow as Emilio stepped into something. “Come on, man. What is your problem?” Was he just acting stupid? Maybe even making fun of Daniel tripping by pretending to trip himself? … That actually did not make any sense because why would Emilio purposefully fall when they both knew there was danger nearby. He watched as Emilio put one foot up in the air, just leaving it there, and Daniel rolled his eyes. “What are you fucking doing?” he grumbled as he walked forward and around Emilio.
Just a few steps past Emilio’s stupid dangling foot, Daniel felt something push against his ankle. He lost his balance, but caught himself, bending his knees and grabbing them before he fell all the way forward. Something hard still pressed against his ankle, but as he looked down, he didn’t see anything. He crouched down low and pressed his hand against the air around his ankle only to feel … rope. It felt like rope, but that didn’t make any sense.
He heard Emilio curse again, so he looked back to see Emilio standing in the air. “Are you fucking floating, Milio?” he asked, as if that made any sense. But how else could he explain how the man was standing on a step in the air. But also, how else could he explain the invisible rope that he held in his hand. He wrapped both hands around the rope and pulled on it. He felt it move a little, but it seemed to be attached to something. “It’s a rope. I tripped over a fucking rope.” Daniel wanted to make it known that he could walk. Keeping his hands on the rope, he walked alongside it and followed it a few steps down the tunnel.
Right as he turned his head towards Emilio, he heard something flying through the air towards him. He ducked his head, feeling the wind of something brush right above his head, but nothing was there. Daniel opened his mouth to warn Emilio, but then shut it right back because how could he explain what he just heard? Then again, the slayer was floating in the air. “I think there’s invisible knives,” he whispered, just loud enough for Emilio to hear him. The note did say come get free knives and come get knifed.
—
There was nothing worse than making fun of someone for falling over nothing only to fall over nothing yourself immediately after. Emilio thought he probably would have preferred being stabbed to the embarrassment of lying on the floor of the mine with Daniel still clambering to his feet smugly nearby. (He couldn’t actually see the ranger’s face at the moment, so the ‘smug’ descriptor was more of an educated guess.) Except… Emilio hadn’t fallen over nothing. There had been something on the ground, was something there now, too. He was so certain of it, even if there was visibly nothing in sight.
“I know how to walk,” he insisted. “It’s fucked up to say I don’t know how to walk, actually. I have a bad leg. So.” Of course, his bad leg was not what had hindered him in this particular walking adventure (though it was none too happy with the fall), but Emilio had learned that pointing to that excuse could sometimes leave people awkwardly stammering in a way that made him feel like he’d won something, even if the prize was just making someone feel a little bad.
He ignored Daniel as he investigated the step he could not see, responding only with a quick middle finger. Was it so dark in here that he’d missed a step? More than one step, even? But… no, that didn’t seem right. Daniel, who appeared to have no problem in the dark, hadn’t said anything to indicate that he thought there was a step here. Moreover, he’d fallen too, so there must have been something. Normally, Emilio might suspect a creature of some sort, but whatever his foot was resting on certainly wasn’t alive.
Daniel stumbled again as Emilio stood on the invisible step, and Emilio turned back to look at him. He was bent over something on the ground, leaning down as if to pick something up. When he straightened, there was nothing in his hands, but they were still closed as if holding something between them. Emilio tilted his head, squinting to see if perhaps he was holding something translucent, but… there didn’t seem to be anything there at all. He was holding air. Was it a trick? Some way of fooling Emilio into thinking he had something when he didn’t? It would be a strange play, even for Daniel. Emilio couldn’t puzzle out a solid explanation for the motivation behind it.
“No, I’m not floating. There’s something here. I’m standing on it. But I don’t…” see anything. Neither did Daniel, for that matter, if he’d thought Emilio was floating. Daniel pulled on whatever he was holding, and Emilio stepped off the step and moved — carefully — towards him. “I don’t see a rope,” he said needlessly, but he reached for it, anyway. He certainly felt something under his hand, just like he’d certainly felt something under his foot when he’d stepped up onto it.
He was still studying the rope when Daniel moved forward, evidently following it a little further into the tunnel. It was luck that had him duck in a way that made him oblivious to something flying just over his head, his shitty hearing not allowing him to hear anything until Daniel called back to him. “Invisible knives?” He repeated with a scoff. “You’re full of shit.” Except… there were invisible staircases. And invisible ropes. So, fuck it. “Okay, there’s invisible knives. Whatever. How the fuck are we supposed to —”
Movement in the corner of his vision saw him turning his head quickly, catching sight of a shape at the opposite end of the tunnel. This time, it didn’t move out of his line of sight. Instead, it… waved at him. With a white-gloved hand to match its white-painted face to match half of the stripes on its black and white shirt. “What the fuck?” Emilio demanded. The mime opened its mouth in an ‘o’ shape, hands on its cheeks as if in silent scream. It pointed animatedly behind him. Emilio glared back, taking a step forward. “Daniel, it’s a fucking mime.”
—
Daniel narrowed his eyes as he watched Emilio seemingly standing in the air. Emilio claimed he was standing on a step. Daniel wanted to call him a liar and an idiot, but he was holding an invisible rope in his hands. He watched as Emilio stepped off the invisible step and walked over to hold the invisible rope, which helped prove to himself that he wasn’t losing his mind.
“Invisible knives,” Daniel hissed. The whole situation with Emilio was driving him fucking nuts. And Emilio had the audacity to question him about invisible knives after just standing on invisible steps and when they both held an invisible rope in their hand? At this point, Daniel would almost believe an invisible man was coming for them next. Not even a ghost, just an actual man who was invisible.
He looked back down at his hands which looked like they held nothing, even as he felt the rope’s strands against his skin. Emilio cursed, and Daniel glanced up to see a man in a striped shirt with white gloves and white face paint. He furrowed his brows as he looked at the strange man—shocked that he was visible to both hunters. Emilio said mime and Daniel whipped his head over towards the slayer. “Of course you’d instantly recognize it as a mime,” he scoffed. “You wanna be one so fucking badly.” He let go of the rope, which landed silently on the ground. “Now’s your opportunity. Go tell him how much you love his face paint.”
From the corner of his eye, Daniel saw the mime wagging his finger. He turned towards it and rolled his eyes. “Go fuck yourself.” The mime placed its hand against its chest and opened its mouth wide in shock. He looked back to Emilio. “Have fun playing with your friend. I’m outta here.” Before he could back out of the mine, the mime held up its arm and looked like it threw something towards Daniel. He heard the whoosh in the air and ducked. The invisible knife cut across the top of his hat and landed without any clattering on the ground behind Daniel. He took off his hat and looked at the cut through it. “Fuck you!” The mime silently laughed, with one hand clutching its belly and the other pointing at Daniel. He narrowed his eyes, not really wanting to kill some random guy, but if this mime was going to keep throwing invisible knives at him in a mine, then he might have to reconsider.
—
Daniel, in Emilio’s utterly unbiased opinion, was a little smug about this whole thing. He didn’t have to sound so certain that there were invisible knives, like Emilio was stupid to question it. He was the one who was still questioning the invisible steps, even though Emilio had been standing on them.
But, of course, they couldn’t really focus on Daniel’s smugness or the way Emilio was definitely right. This situation — though stupid — was dangerous. They were clearly dealing with some kind of targeted attack here. Someone had lured them down into the mines on clumsy false pretenses, and it didn’t matter that the knives being thrown at them were invisible. It only mattered that there were knives being thrown, and that they needed to find out who and why.
The who, at least, came quickly enough. The mime at the other end of the mine tunnel was clearly the culprit, even if Emilio could not puzzle out their motivation. He was ready to try when Daniel, the bastard, interrupted his train of thought with silly accusations. “How the fuck are you going to say it is strange for me to know this is a mime?” He demanded, throwing his hands up in the air. “It is someone in black and white stripes, with a stupid hat and white face makeup. This is a mime. People know what mimes look like. You know what mimes look like. You were a mime.” In a picture photoshopped by a strange kid on the internet, but the point stood all the same. “I think maybe you want to be a mime. You’re the one picking up invisible ropes and wandering around in the mines. Shit, I bet you did leave that note at my door. I bet you brought me here to try to convince me to be a mime with you, because you want to do it so fucking bad.”
As Daniel shouted at the mime, Emilio raised his middle finger in their direction, the motion in unintentional tandem with Daniel’s shouted words. “You’re seriously going to leave me down here with this thing?” He demanded, gesturing towards the mime in the mine. Daniel was saved from answering by another invisible knife flung in their direction, this one evidently slicing through his hat. “Ugly fucking hat,” Emilio commented. “Mime did you a goddamn favor.” He figured it was a good idea to keep the knife-slinging mime in his field of vision, so he kept a wary eye on them. After a moment, the mime began shifting their hands around. They spun one hand in a circle over their head in a motion that had Emilio narrowing his eyes. It looked like… someone slinging a lasso? Two and two added together slowly in his head, four going off like a lightbulb just as the mime slung their hand in his direction. He felt the rope encircle him, then the mime yanked to tighten it. Fumbling for purchase, Emilio grabbed the closest thing to him on instinct. Unfortunately for them both, the closest thing to him happened to be Daniel.
—
“I ain’t a mime! I ain’t never been no mime!” Daniel rolled his eyes. It was not his fault that he didn’t go around thinking about mimes all the time, unlike Emilio. He just thought the person in the mine was some weird clown or freak really into face paint. He scoffed at Emilio. “You’re the one stepping up onto invisible steps. And I seem to recall finding you already wandering around these mines. You was probably wandering with the mime! You left the note on my car to convince me to come over here. I just know it.” He didn’t really believe that Emilio left him the note, but he also couldn’t be completely certain. Maybe the slayer wanted to fight him with a mime in the mine.
But he didn’t have much time to worry about that as he took off his hat and looked at the line from where the knife sliced at his hat. The tattered hat had been in rough shape for years now. The brim was torn open, with the fiber strands curled and dangling. Fibers poked out from other tears in the hat. At least he washed out the sweat and dirt stains. Emilio was right, it was an ugly old baseball cap, but Daniel refused to buy a new one. “It’s just a fucking hat. Functional,” he said as he put it back on.
Daniel was ready to leave this situation when he saw the mime moving its arms around like it was doing something again. Something stupid, he was sure, so he turned his back to begin leaving when he realized what was being thrown towards them. Emilio began falling, and before Daniel could jump out of the way, the slayer grabbed him. “Fuck,” he grunted as he held his ground. He grabbed onto Emilio and felt the lasso wrapped around the slayer’s body. He tried to hold up Emilio, but the mime yanked on the invisible lasso, bringing both men down onto the ground. Daniel grunted as he hit the ground again.
The two landed in an awkward position, with Emilio sort of landing on Daniel. “Get off me,” he mumbled, feeling the metal railway digging into his side. He saw the mime in the corner of his eye. The mime held its hand over its mouth as it laughed silently, and then it yanked on the lasso. The mime had enough strength to drag Emilio towards it, and Daniel, entangled with and smooshed under Emilio, was dragged with him. The metal rail and wooden sleepers scraped against his back as they were pulled closer to the mime. The pulling stopped, and Daniel groaned as he looked up at the face of the mime smiling down at him. The mime waved its, wiggling its fingers in greeting at the two hunters it lassoed.
—
“This is something a mime would say,” Emilio insisted, though he knew it wasn’t true. A mime would not say that, mostly because a mime would say nothing at all. This, Emilio thought, was probably solid proof that neither he nor Daniel was a mime, given the fact that they hadn’t stopped verbally arguing since the moment they’d caught sight of one another in the mine. “I am not with the mime. I’ve never seen that fucking mime before in my life. First time I ever saw him was in this mine, after I saw you. So maybe you’re with the mime. Maybe that fucking mine mime is your best friend.” He stumbled a little over the phrasing, his tongue not a huge fan of the similarities between the word mime and the word mine, but he refused to let the stumble affect him. He had an argument to win.
He eyed Daniel as the ranger took off his hat, trying to make it look critical instead of concerned. He didn’t actually want the guy to catch a knife in the head, invisible or otherwise, so he was glad to see that the hat was the only casualty. “Functional?” He repeated, raising his brows. “What function does this hat serve, other than being very ugly? Blocking the sun from your eyes? In a mine, underground? Holding back your hair, which you have shaved off?”
Of course, he had little time to sling out further insults about Daniel’s hat. He was busy being lassoed by an invisible rope and dragged to the ground, bringing Daniel along with him. He landed on top of the ranger with an oomph, the unnecessary air knocked from his dead lungs. It was jarring, disorienting; it took a moment for Emilio’s head to catch up with the rest of him. When it did, the first thing he heard was Daniel.
“I’m trying,” he grunted, shifting and jerking his body in an attempt to remove himself from the ranger. But the rope had gotten tangled in his limbs, and he couldn’t see it to untangle it. Then, it went taut as the mime yanked it, pulling Emilio — and Daniel with him — backwards. Panic seized the fury’s throat. What would the mime do when it had the two of them close enough to touch? “Knife,” he said, driving his knee into Daniel’s leg unintentionally. “Get a knife, we gotta — We should cut the rope. Come on, man, tell him to stop.”
—
Daniel grunted as Emilio’s knee hit his leg. The last thing he needed was getting stuck underneath the slayer. He moved around as he tried to get one of his arms unstuck. One arm freed, he grabbed one of his knives. “Oh, fuck! Why didn’t I think of that?” he asked sarcastically. He looked back up at the mime as he felt around for the rope wrapped around Emilio. “Oh, hey, mime. Can you fucking stop doing this?” While he spoke, his hand brushed against the invisible rope, and he pulled on it as he sliced through it. The rope loosened in his hand, and the mime tapped its finger against its chin as it considered Daniel’s request. It silent-laughed and shook its head no. “Wow! I’m so shocked that didn’t fucking work.” He shoved Emilio off him.
The mime shifted its stance as it seemingly prepared for a fight. Daniel couldn’t see anything in its hands, but that clearly meant nothing with all the invisible knives and ropes. He tried to jump up to his feet, but stumbled at the soreness in his body (fuck, he hated how he was still sore from his injuries. He needed to hit the gym more). The mime pretended to laugh and mimicked Daniel’s stumbling, with an over exaggerated performance as it nearly toppled over to the ground. “Fuck you.” The mime pretended to gasp and held its hand over its mouth.
Daniel lunged at the mime, but it dodged him before he could knock it onto the ground. It wagged its finger at him and then threw something onto the ground. Daniel’s eyes widened—“Bomb!” And he jumped away from where he thought the bomb may have landed. He landed onto the ground and covered his ears. The earth didn’t shake from an explosion, and he looked back to see a cloud of smoke … a fucking smoke bomb? As he stood up, the mime mimicked him as it covered its ears. “Stop copying me!” Daniel grumbled.
—
His body was used to taking a beating. Bruised ribs were no new feeling to Emilio, and even the still-healing ones Emilio was fairly certain Daiyu had broken when she’d shown up at his apartment just to beat the shit out of him were a familiar enough feeling that the pain associated with them faded into the background like television static. But his body still didn’t work quite right after the many years of abuse he’d put into it, and it was still easier said than done to untangle himself from Daniel’s limbs, especially with the added complication of the rope he couldn’t see. “He’d probably listen to you more than me,” the fury insisted, stilling enough for Daniel to slice through the rope without slicing through him in the process.
The mime was not interested in listening to Daniel, though. Emilio grunted as Daniel shoved him off, working on untangling the invisible rope from around him as the ranger got to his feet. Daniel and the mime seemed to be mirroring one another, though Emilio was paying little attention. He was more interested in detangling himself, picking away the invisible rope and tossing it to the side.
By the time Emilio got his feet underneath him, Daniel was already jumping away from some invisible bomb. Emilio flinched back instinctively, but rather than an explosion, the bomb let loose a cloud of black and white smoke. Emilio’s brow furrowed, eyes darting between the ranger and the mime. The mime seemed distracted in its goal of mocking Daniel; Emilio figured that made this the perfect time to strike.
He rushed forward, ignoring the pain in his bad leg and the twinge in his ribs. Lowering his shoulder, he moved to tackle the mime to the ground… only for it to sidestep at the last minute. Emilio rushed past it, slamming into something a few feet behind where the mime stood. Emilio whirled back around to see the mime standing in the same spot it had been before, giggling silently. It made a motion as if slamming a door shut and twisting a deadbolt, then wriggled its fingers in a wave. Emilio clenched his jaw, lowering his shoulder and running at the mime again in hopes of catching it off guard. But before he could hit the mime, he hit something else instead. A… wall? He rushed forward again, only to meet the same resistance. Lifting up a hand with the palm facing out, he pressed it into the air in front of him to find something tangible and solid beneath his palms. He brought back his hand, clenching it into a fist and driving it forward; it bounced back. “What the fuck?”
—
Daniel was about to go after the mime, but Emilio beat him to it … sort of. Emilio missed attacking the mime—it was way too good at dodging them—and instead looked … trapped. Or something? Daniel wasn’t sure what that was about. It looked like Emilio was running into something, and it didn’t take long for the slayer to curse.
The mime slunk away towards the mine entrance, and Daniel turned to go after the stupid fucking mime. He wanted to shove his knife into that stupid smiling, fake laughing mime and maybe see if it would make any sort of noise when his knife plunged into it.
But he turned his attention towards Emilio who looked stuck inside something invisible. He looked up in exasperation, shook his head, and rolled his eyes. “Fine.” Daniel guessed the mime would return soon enough, and if not, he would track it down. He rushed over to Emilio but slowed down before getting too close just in case he—whack!—ran into an invisible wall. Daniel rubbed his forehead after hitting his head. He placed his hands against what felt like glass. He walked around, keeping his hand against the invisible object until he reached a sharp corner and turned with the box. “Man, are you in a fucking glass box?” he asked as he reached what felt like a door. He moved his hand around until he felt a door knob. His hand wrapped around it and he turned and pulled and pushed on the door, but nothing budged.
Daniel glanced around at the ground, half expecting to find a visible key to get this fucking door unlocked. Nothing stood out to him as a key. But of course he knew the stupid key would be invisible. Why would a mime have a visible key for its invisible glass box? “Is there a key in there?” he asked Emilio. At this point he was about to try breaking the glass with a rock or something, though he figured that might be a terrible idea—just imagine all of the invisible broken glass everywhere.
—
The mime took off towards the entrance of the mine, and Emilio slammed his hand against the wall of a box he couldn’t see. For a moment, it looked as though Daniel was going to chase after the mime and, without really understanding why, Emilio felt a sense of panic creeping up through his chest. It would make sense for Daniel to chase the mime; he could come back after, or Emilio could find his own way out of his predicament. But Emilio was struck with a crushing discomfort at the idea of being left alone in this mine, in this box.
He didn’t let it show on his face; he also didn’t let the relief show when Daniel decided to stay instead. He stood close to where he thought the barrier was, though evidently not close enough to keep Daniel from smacking his head on it. He winced as the sound vibrated through the box, reverberating off walls he couldn’t see. “I don’t fucking know,” he said, smacking a hand against the wall. “Just get me out.” The fact that he couldn’t see the barriers around him kept the walls from closing in on him the way tight spaces sometimes did, but he still didn’t love the feeling of being trapped like this.
Daniel found the door and tugged on it, and Emilio rolled his eyes. “He fucking locked it, man,” he griped, palm flat against a door he couldn’t see. It was strange; not like glass, where it was transparent but something was undeniably there, but like something else entirely. Something unseen, but solid. His forehead dropped against it with a groan. “How would I know if there was a key in here?” He moved around a little, shuffling his feet in hopes of kicking something but finding nothing there. “I’m gonna… I’m gonna try to pick the lock.” He moved back over to the door, feeling around until he found the knob and pulling his lockpick set from his pocket.
—
“Yeah, I can tell he fucking locked it.” Daniel slammed his hand against the invisible door. The situation grated on him, and he rolled his eyes as Emilio confirmed what he already knew—how would he know if there was a key. The fucking key was probably invisible. And the mime probably had it hidden in one of its pockets.
Daniel kicked around on his side of the box as he searched for a key too. He eyed a large rock as a possible way of smashing through the glass but was quick to get rid of that idea—the last thing they needed was a bunch of invisible broken glass everywhere or for Emilio to cut himself on the invisible glass as he climbed out of the box. At least Emilio had the bright idea of picking the lock. Much better idea. “Yeah, if you can find the lock,” he sniped, unable to not be a little moody in the moment. He was fairly certain Emilio was smart enough to find and pick the lock.
He heard movement from behind him, deeper into the mine, and he whirled around only to see the white painted face of that stupid mime smiling and waving at him. “Now how the fuck did you get back there?” (Could the mime turn invisible too?) The mime skipped back down into the mine, luring Daniel to follow it further into the depths of the earth. But he glanced back at Emilio and stayed exactly where he was. Maybe it was too stupid of an idea to go running after the mime, since it seemed adept at tricking the two seasoned hunters. And maybe Daniel didn’t want to get trapped in some other invisible mime trap and die in the stupidest way possible in a mine. Talia would be so pissed off at him for that. “You fucking done yet?” he asked Emilio, as he kept his focus on where the mime disappeared.
—
“Then why are you pulling on the fucking knob?” Emilio challenged, frustration with the situation translating to frustration towards Daniel, since he was the only one here. The mime would probably return sooner instead of later, though Emilio was a little worried about what might happen when he did. You only walked away from a fight you were winning if you had some kind of plan that would fuck the other person involved up a lot more than you were already achieving. And the mime had lured them down into the mines to begin with. There must have been some kind of intention there, some kind of plan; Emilio didn’t particularly want to find out what it might have been.
Daniel was searching for the key on his side of the box, while Emilio felt around the knob for a keyhole on his. “I fucking know I need to find the fucking lock,” he snapped. “Shut up a minute, will you?” Finally, his finger pressed over a break in the knob — a hole. He slipped his lockpicks in, stopping a moment to look at the way they seemed to hang suspended in the air even as he could feel the lock around them. Luckily, he picked locks by feel instead of sight; he began working the pick, concentration written all over his face. The click of it finally giving way was — of course — silent. But the feeling was the same as any other lock. Emilio sighed in quiet relief.
He turned the knob, pushing the door open… and banging it against Daniel, just a little. It wasn’t his fault. The door was invisible. How was he supposed to know it’d smack against the ranger? “Yeah,” he confirmed, utterly unapologetic, “I’m done. What the fuck are you looking at, man?” Emilio had no idea that, in his concentration towards the lock, he’d missed the mime’s reappearance entirely.
—
Daniel grunted as the door hit his shoulder. At least it was his good shoulder, he thought, or else he’d have to consider taking a swing at Emilio. But he was done picking the invisible lock, so now they could once again deal with the stupid mime. “The mime is back,” he answered as he pointed further down the mine where the mime had disappeared. “I didn’t fucking hear or see it, but somehow it got down yonder.”
For a moment, he considered just turning back around and heading out of the mine. They weren’t gaining anything by going after the mime. But something clattered further down the mine, and Daniel decided that the mime deserved whatever it had coming for it. “Come on,” he said to Emilio as he motioned forward with his head. Maybe it was a waste of their time, but whatever, he wanted to solve why the mime was coming after them.
He softly stepped forward down the mine, even as he knew how incredibly stupid it was to go deeper into an abandoned mining tunnel after something that could use invisible tricks on them. He turned the corner and spotted the mime standing just a short distance ahead of him. Daniel narrowed his eyes at the mime, and it responded by mimicking his facial expression. The mime lifted up its hand and flipped off the two men before breaking out into hysterical laughter without sound. “I fucking hate this guy,” Daniel grumbled.
The mime waved its arms as if ushering something towards it. Daniel looked over his shoulder to see if there was something behind him, but it was all the dim lighting from the mine lanterns. He took one step forward but paused as the earth trembled under his boots. He whipped his head around but saw and heard nothing. “Fucking what now!” he said in exasperation. (Maybe he should have turned around and left the mime to play in the mine by itself). The walls around them shook as the lanterns swung back and forth and as dust flew up from the ground. He heard nothing, but something rammed into his side and flung him forward. Daniel landed on his side, his bad side, and he groaned as he rolled over onto his back. He sat up and rubbed his left arm and shoulder. He wasn’t sure what ran into him, but whatever it was felt furry and fast.
Daniel held his breath as the wooden beams, which held up the mining tunnel, shook and creaked as something ran through the tunnel. If there was one thing he knew, it was that he was not going to die in an abandoned collapsed mine. One beam snapped but the earth didn’t cave in on them just yet. “Milio, we gotta get the fuck outta here,” Daniel said as he jumped up to his feet. His gaze stayed on the broken beam, no longer focusing on the mime, as he waited for the mine to collapse onto them. His aching shoulder would be dealt with later (he could easily convince Talia to give him a massage).
—
“Fucking great,” Emilio grumbled, irritation pooling in his chest. Of course the mime was back. In a way, he thought it might have been a good thing; they needed to figure out why this asshole had lured them down into the mines, needed to find a way to make sure it wouldn’t happen again. It was clear that this guy wanted something from them. Instinct — or maybe just paranoia — warned that he probably wanted to kill them, but Emilio wasn’t sure that fit. He could have easily hit them with the invisible knives he’d been throwing before; he could have taken Emilio out when he was locked inside that invisible box, or strangled Daniel with his invisible rope. The fact that he’d done none of that implied that the goal was something else, though Emilio had no idea what it could have been.
In any case, he was glad that Daniel wanted to go after the mime instead of abandoning the mission entirely. Emilio probably would have gone along with the ranger if he’d chosen to leave the mine, if only to ensure he didn’t trip over any more invisible ropes or fall into any invisible pits. Talia would probably kill him if Daniel broke his neck on Emilio’s watch. But if Daniel was going after the mime, Emilio was going with him.
He followed Daniel into the mine tunnel, keeping his eyes peeled. It wasn’t hard to spot the mime, whose stark white stripes stood out in the darkness even as the black ones blended a little easier. “I think we should kill him,” Emilio decided. “He’s not human. He can’t be human. Right? He’s gotta be some kind of… thing. Some kind of dangerous thing. He’s probably killing people down here.” And, more importantly, he was pissing Emilio off. “So I think we should catch him, and I think we should —”
He stopped as the mime moved, body tensing at the way it seemed to be waving something forward. Emilio couldn’t hear anything, couldn’t see anything, but the tunnel began to shake as if something big was headed their way. Daniel went flying as if thrown, and Emilio took a step towards him only to be knocked to the side by some invisible shape running by him quickly. He swore he felt fur brush against his arms as it ran by, coarse and rough. Emilio stumbled back with a curse, though his back slammed against another invisible creature as it ran by. They seemed to be utterly surrounded, though nothing was attacking them directly. Just… running.
And doing a lot of damage in the process.
His eyes shot over to the damaged beam. While the stampede was silent, the creaking wood was not. With no other sounds in the mine, this one seemed to echo dangerously, like a warning Emilio knew they needed to heed. He looked back at Daniel, who had gotten his feet back underneath him. “No shit we need to get out of here!” He moved towards the ranger, dodging invisible animals as they ran by and grabbing his arm, dragging him forward. “Run!”
Emilio wasn’t a very fast runner. He knew he was probably screwed here, worried Daniel would doom himself in some stupidly noble refusal to leave Emilio behind. He pushed himself as hard as he could, even as his bad leg screamed in protest, pushing Daniel ahead of him. And then — and then he slammed into something, the force of it sending him tumbling forward. But rather than land on the cold floor of the mine, he landed in something. Something big, something wooden, something that… shot forward far faster than he was running. Emilio reached out, clumsily grabbing Daniel and dragging him into the cart as it went by.
—
Daniel started running forward and attempted to dodge the stampede of invisible animals, even as they shoved and bumped into him. He went on runs every morning, so he knew he was a strong, quick runner, but it was a little difficult of a task in a shaking mine with a silent stampede running around him. His eyes widened as he looked back over his shoulder to check on Emilio, knowing that the slayer’s bad leg wouldn’t get him out of the mine fast enough. He cursed under his breath as he saw the man had fallen but … but looked like he was floating in something. What the fuck was with this place and all the invisible shit?
He knew that he needed to keep running out of this place, even as his hunting mindset told him to keep pushing ahead, to leave behind Emilio. He had always struggled with that—leaving others to fend for themselves or abandoning them for dead. But before he could turn around to help Emilio out of the mine, the slayer somehow rushed forward as if he was in something fast. Daniel gasped as Emilio grabbed him and yanked him into the invisible cart.
He fell in head first, and his legs dangled outside of the cart as the invisible animals ran by him. He grunted as he pulled himself further into the cart. He mumbled a sorry as he pushed against Emilio so he could get his legs away from the animals. “What the fuck,” he grunted as he finally got himself sitting upright in the tiny invisible cart.
Daniel glanced down at the bottom of the cart, and rather than seeing the wooden cart, he saw only the railway tracks flying by below them. It was almost dizzying knowing that his feet were pressed against something but it wasn’t there. He looked back up as the cart sped through the mine. Wind brushed against his face, and he held his hand down on his hat to keep it from blowing away. The cart bounced along the old tracks. It hit a large bump, and Daniel flew out of his seated position for a moment but gripped the side of the cart. The mine curved up ahead, and as the cart took the turn, he swore for a moment that the cart was going to tip onto its side. He pushed his body weight on the opposite side to keep it balanced as it sped towards the mine entrance.
Light poured into the mine entryway, not too far ahead of them. A loud crash sounded off from behind them, and Daniel glanced over his shoulder to see part of the mine had collapsed. He hoped that the fucking stupid mime was trapped under all the rubble. He didn’t have too long to think about the mime’s possible death before the cart sprung them out into the bright daylight. He shut his eyes for a moment as the light hurt his eyes.
He blinked his eyes open, squinting at the drastic change, when he spotted a large rock at the end of the tracks. “Oh fuck!” Daniel exclaimed as the invisible cart slammed into the rock and sent the two men flying forward. Daniel fell face down into the dirt. Something invisible brushed against his arm, so he moved his aching arms to cover his head from the invisible stampede. He waited a minute or so until he didn’t feel the earth rumbling beneath him. He lifted his head up and looked around for the—god, was he fucking stupid? he thought. Did he seriously expect to see the invisible stampede? He groaned as he pressed his hands into the dirt and pushed himself up. He rolled over to a seated position and rubbed his hand against his forehead.
“Do you think that mime is fucking dead?”
—
There was some relief as Daniel collapsed into the mine cart, even as his body pressed a little too tightly against Emilio’s in the small space. The last thing he wanted was for the two of them to get separated in this mine, especially when they had no idea where the mime was. If one of them got stuck in another box, or stabbed with an invisible knife, or tangled up in invisible rope, especially while the mine was in full collapse, things could get messy.
Of course, Emilio wasn’t sure the mine cart would prevent any messiness. Not when the ride was so… chaotic. This was faster than running — especially Emilio’s running — but there was little control over it. The cart clung to the tracks while Emilio and Daniel clung to the cart, shoving their bodies from side to side to keep it from flipping as it went around sharp curves. Eventually, the literal light at the end of the tunnel beckoned them, and Emilio felt a sharp surge of relief. (Or maybe that was just Daniel’s elbow poking into his ribs.)
The relief couldn’t last long, though. There was a rock at the end of the tracks, and Emilio spotted it just as Daniel yelled out a curse. The fury tried to brace himself, but there was only so much he could do. The cart hit the rock, and Emilio flew out, landing in a tangled heap next to Daniel with a quiet oof of air being forced from his lungs. He rolled over onto his back and, for a moment, just… laid there. He stared up at the sky, refreshingly visible, and watched a few clouds float by absently. Something brushed against his arm, and he pulled it to his chest quickly, though he felt nothing else. If he had to guess, the last of the stampede was exiting the mine now.
He felt Daniel sitting up beside him and, somewhat reluctantly, moved to do the same. He did a quick inventory of his body — no major injuries, but his bad leg was protesting both the running and the cramped position he’d forced it into in order to allow both himself and Daniel to fit into the cart — and rolled his shoulders absently, trying to work out the tension clinging to his muscles. He had a feeling it would take a little more than a stretch to get it to fully vacate, after an experience like that.
Daniel spoke, and Emilio exhaled through his nose and turned to face him. “I’m not sure that mime can die,” he admitted, grimacing at the thought. “He probably built himself an invisible fucking exit and skipped off into mime world, or some shit.” Or ducked into an invisible box to avoid falling debris, or it was some kind of undead thing Emilio could no longer sense, or it was a shared delusion he and Daniel had made up together because every hunter he knew had at least a couple of screws loose. In any case, he doubted the mime was dead. That would have been too fucking easy.
Slowly — painfully — Emilio got to his feet and offered a hand out to Daniel. “You all right? Not bleeding or anything? Going to have to make fun of you if you got hurt from a fucking mine mime, man.”
—
Daniel didn’t want to seem like he was in pain from the whole … well, the whole everything that they just experienced. He rubbed the back of his neck and his bad shoulder, then rolled and stretched his neck to try to get rid of the increased pain. Fuck, he’d need a massage, a hot bath, some tiger balm, and whatever would make him not ache (well, ache more than his average aching pain). God, he just wanted to go home to Talia.
He glanced back at the collapsed mine as Emilio answered him. He wanted that fucking mime dead. And he was almost determined enough to hunt down that fucker and—no, no, he should maybe not do that. For now. Maybe later. Daniel would have to think further about it. He sighed in defeat at the mime still being alive. “I ain’t gonna ask what you mean by mime world. Some of us ain’t knowledgeable about mime shit.”
His gaze followed Emilio as the slayer stood up, clearly in plenty of pain of his own. Daniel nodded and took his hand and stood up. He grimaced in pain before shaking his head to pretend that nothing hurt. He stretched his arms up above his head. “As far as I know, I ain’t bleeding,” he answered. If he was, he’d deal with it later. “Ain’t gonna let a stupid fucking mime get me hurt.” He ignored that he was, in fact, hurt. “How about you? You okay?” He glanced down at Emilio’s legs and then turned his gaze to the rest of the area. He scanned the area, on alert in case the mime appeared around them for some more sick torture. “Glad we got outta there. Though I’m gonna kill that fucking mime if I ever see it again. Or if it leaves me another fucking message.” He paused. “I didn’t get a free knife though, and that pisses me off.”
—
“You don’t have to ask because you already know,” Emilio retorted, rolling his eyes. If anyone was going to know about mime world, it was bound to be Daniel; he’d probably known from the start that he was meeting a mime down in the mines, even if he hadn’t known how things would go. Emilio might have let himself wonder if this was some kind of mime triple cross if he’d had the energy to think about anything further than the collapsed mine, the protests thrumming out of his bad leg, and the quiet rage at the memory of the invisible rope tangling itself around his torso. As it was, he figured he’d give Daniel a pass. If this had been some plan he’d hatched with his mime friend, it clearly hadn’t gone his way. That was punishment enough, really.
He pulled the ranger to his feet, making note of the way he stretched his muscles. There might have been some soreness there, but he didn’t seem to be lying about the ‘not bleeding’ thing, which was good. The less Emilio had to explain about all of this to Talia, the better. She and Daniel had only just worked things out; Emilio didn’t want to be responsible for any more tension between them.
“I’m fine,” he replied, shoving down the ever-present pain in his bad leg. It’d hurt a while longer, but it’d fade back to its usual level of throbbing soon enough. And when that happened, Emilio could forget about this entire ordeal. “Yeah. I’d say it was close, but…” he trailed off with a shrug. “Honestly, no fucking idea. Could have almost been trampled. Could have not. Fuck if I know, with everything being invisible.” He scowled at the idea of seeing the mime again and the possibility of getting another message, as well as the reminder that, despite all that, neither of them had gotten the promised ‘free good knife.’ “Guess we were supposed to pick up the invisible one he tossed at your head,” he replied dryly, rolling his eyes. “Fuck would we do with an invisible knife, anyway?” Lose it, probably. “I’m getting out of here. Bar nearby. Want to come?”
—
Daniel scoffed at the insinuation that he knew anything about mime world. He never thought about mimes before Emilio sent him that wrong message the other day—wait, was that over a month ago? Regardless, the slayer knew much more about mimes than he did. It explained how he knew how to pick the invisible lock. And he may have fallen into the invisible cart, but he knew exactly what he was doing. But Daniel guessed it really didn’t matter that much right then just how much Emilio knew about mime shit. Maybe Emilio and that particular mime weren’t friends, unlike how Emilio was friends with all the other mimes.
As he rolled his neck and shoulder again, he realized he wasn’t exactly sure how he was going to explain all of this to Talia. How would he tell her that he received a stupid note about free knives and ended up in a mine with Emilio while getting their asses kicked by a mime? Maybe she wouldn’t ask too many questions. He didn’t want to ruin something that was going so well. And that would mean Emilio stabbing him if he fucked things up with Talia again, and after the whole ordeal with the mime, he wasn’t in the mood to be stabbed.
“Maybe there were normal knives further down the mine,” he deadpanned, though he knew well enough they weren’t ever going to get free normal knives. He would have loved to have a new addition to his collection, but whatever, he could probably find one somewhere else. Daniel shrugged nonchalantly and answered, “Yeah, I could go for a whiskey. Though you’re buying because I cut you outta that lasso.”
PARTIES: @danielabrams, @dirtypawscleanboots
TIMING: Mid-April
LOCATION: Pit Pockets located somewhere in the woods.
SUMMARY: A random discovery of Pit Pockets unexpectedly brings together a hunter (Daniel) and a werewolf (Jasper).
WARNINGS: Unsanitary tw, Vomiting tw (mention)
A brief time of living in Deersprings led Daniel to explore the neighborhood a little bit, finding a few spots that he enjoyed for solitude, and though he no longer lived with Eve, he still sometimes drove out to the neighborhood to return to a few favorite quiet spots. When he lived in the neighborhood, he required the fresh air, and all the houses everywhere annoyed him. He was never meant to live in a neighborhood like this. Rural communities with houses far apart were far better for him. He preferred his space and privacy.
He walked alongside a stream of water. His boots crunched through patches of snow that remained after snowstorms. The trees blocked the sunlight from reaching this part of the area, so he took his time to not slip and fall on icy patches. The last thing he needed was new injuries. He hummed to himself as he walked until he heard what sounded like voices chatting not too far away from him. He tilted his head as he turned to face the direction of the voices. His hand reached towards his knife, hidden under his clothing, and he stepped silently towards the voices.
Daniel stepped out into a small clearing where he spotted multiple people standing around a food truck. He raised a brow as he tried to figure out why there was a food truck this far out in the woods—how did it even get here, especially with all the old snowfall covering the earth? An older couple took their food from the stand and walked back in the direction of the houses. Was this a typical spot for the food truck? People just come here for whatever they served? He straightened up as he walked towards the food truck to further investigate, though he kept his hand safely resting above his knife. Pit Pockets, read the sign on the side of the truck. After enough weird situations in this town, he couldn’t possibly act surprised by the sight of pita pockets being sold in the middle of the woods.
He glanced over the menu as he debated if he should order something. He was not really hungry, not at all, but he was curious about the entire situation. Daniel shrugged his shoulders after a moment and turned around to head back. But his senses alerted him to a shifter somewhere nearby. He casually glanced around at the couple of people at the food truck. Only one person stuck out to him as the possible culprit, a young woman who just arrived from her own journey through the woods to end up at this food truck.
—
It wasn’t that Jasper intended to be in the woods. She just kind of ended up there while exploring. And from what she was learning about Wicked’s Rest, every day brought on a new adventure. But this adventure had somehow led her to a random food truck in the middle of the woods. In fact, it had led several people to that same random food truck. And as she stood staring at the menu, Jasper could already feel her mouth watering at the savory smells of chicken, beef, and other random offered meats listed on the small sign in front of her. However, what she didn’t expect to get a random sniff of was what smelled like sweat. And while most people probably would’ve been grossed out by that, it had simply reminded her of wrestling.
Stepping forward, but staying back just enough to allow other people a chance to go in front of her, Jasper read through the options. It all sounded good. Petie’s Pit Pocket Special was what had seemed to catch her eye though. An assortment of meats, cheese, fresh veggies covered in our special La Sauce. She didn’t have a damn clue what La Sauce was, but if it was anything like the secret sauce from any chain restaurant she had ever visited, she knew she’d be fine.
“Have you been here before?” Jasper caught a glance of a man standing near her. “Was just curious what you thought was good. I’ve got my eyes on Petie’s Pit Pocket Special, but I think the La Sauce is what’s throwing me off.” Maybe he could help her decide, if he had been here before. He looked like a man who had a taste for adventure.
—
He hadn’t wanted to catch the attention of the other person, but now he was stuck in a conversation with someone he guessed to be a shapeshifter. He shook his head as he answered, “No, ain’t been here. Was just out for a walk.” Daniel held back a groan as she had more to say about the food truck. He could play a little nice for just a short while, and maybe he could go for a quick bite to eat.
“La Sauce probably just like some sort of special sauce any other restaurant has,” he replied with a shrug of his shoulders. He wasn’t exactly concerned about whatever the sauce was here. “I’d probably just go for the beef pita pocket, but …” Daniel shoved his hands in his pockets as he realized that he didn’t have any cash on him right then. He’d just been out for a walk in the woods, not in search of a bite to eat. “Ain’t got no money on me.”
—
“Funny. Was doing the same thing, and just stumbled upon this place. Kinda odd, but the feeling I get from this town is that weird is a general vibe.” Jasper remained back still trying to make up her mind. It shouldn’t have been that hard, but the scent had been so overpowering to her sensitive nose that the entire menu had sounded good, “Good point. Probably like McDonald’s Big Mac sauce, except hopefully without all the filler.” She hated Big Mac’s. In fact, she had grown tired of fast food for a while now. It was all she and her wrestling friends could find late night after shows would let out, and they were on their way to the next city, so seeing more independently owned places around Wicked’s Rest had made her happy.
“Hold that thought.” With the line cleared out, Jasper moved forward to the small window of the food truck, “Hey, I’ll have one Petie’s Pit Pocket Special, One Beef Pita Pocket, and two bottles of water. Oh and two of the Churro Pockets. Thanks.” Pulling a wallet out of her jeans, Jasper thumbed a card out and paid for the food. Card secured back in her wallet and pocket, she grabbed some plasticware and a couple of napkins along with the two bottles of water that were now sitting in the window, before moving back to the random stranger she had just met, “Food should be up in a minute. Where do you want to sit?”
—
Daniel couldn’t remember the last time he had been to a McDonald’s or had a Big Mac. He wasn’t all that interested in fast food restaurants. Even when he craved fast food, he got over that after actually cooking something for himself. He was ready to turn around and head out of this place, but the shifter ordered … food for the two of them. “No, you don’t have to …,” he trailed off and shrugged as she already swiped her card. He didn’t like the idea of a stranger (human or shifter) paying for his food, and now he thought he would probably wind up owing her something in the end. Great.
It made sense that she would want to eat with him after buying his meal, and he guessed it would be rude to say no. The area didn’t have tables or anywhere to officially sit and eat. One guy stood while eating his pita pocket, and a couple other folks found places to sit. Daniel scanned the area and pointed out a fallen tree that looked decent enough. It didn’t seem rotted from the outside, and it looked like it could handle two people temporarily sitting on it. “There could work,” he suggested.
He walked over and sat down, deciding this spot was okay enough. His plan was to eat and get out of here. “Thanks, by the way,” he said. “Don’t think I caught your name.”
—
Jasper hadn’t really met that many people in town yet. There had been Amos (her boss), Constance (hopefully a friend), and fucking Nova (no comment). Plus all the barflies she came across on a regular basis at the Wormhole. But to have someone to talk to would be nice. At least, someone who seemed normal enough. But in all her travels, she knew that usually was too good to be true. Fuck, she missed her friends. She missed wrestling. She missed her previous life.
Catching sight of the log that he was motioning towards, Jasper smiled, “Think you’re right.” She was just about to head that way to set the bottles of water down, when she heard her name being called, “Jasper. Order’s up!” And without hesitating, she made a smooth turn on her heels going back to get the food, before joining the stranger she had decided to have lunch with.
“Yeah, no problem. Just pay it forward sometime, and ask them to do the same. I know it’s cheesy, but it makes the world feel a little lighter sometimes. Doing something nice for someone else.” She sat down next to him and put everything between them so it was accessible. “I’m Jasper. What about you?” She was looking forward to whatever this La Sauce was. It had smelled even better now that it was sitting in front of her. “So have you lived here long?”
—
Daniel almost rolled his eyes at the idea of paying forward kindness. What a load of bullshit. He spent enough of his life being kind by keeping humans safe from the supernatural world—safe from shifters like whatever sat next to him. “Sure, pay it forward,” he said with a nod of his head and a kind grin on his face. He could at least pretend like any of this meant anything to him. “I’ll keep it in mind whenever I’m out and find an opportunity to help someone out.” Like every fucking day, it felt like sometimes. The town gave him enough ways to get people out of difficult situations.
“Daniel,” he answered, not seeing much of a point in lying about his name. It was common enough anyway. He shrugged his shoulders at her question. “Ain’t been here too long. But it’s a nice place,” he said. “Sometimes you stumble onto silly little things like a food truck out in the woods.” Silly being the key word in that sentence, rather than referring to it as weird or strange. The last thing he wanted was to get into the details of all the oddities about Wicked’s Rest. He glanced down at the pita pocket and took a bite of it. He wasn’t too certain about the taste of it. Something strange was in it. “Are you from here or also a transplant?”
—
Something about the way he had replied had felt off to Jasper. Even the grin felt hollow judging by the look in his eyes. Jasper had met all kinds of people in her life. More than most did being in the spotlight, and she had learned to read people. Especially after the things her father had taught her about hunters and what they had done to her mother. But this man didn’t give her hunter vibes, probably because she had never been around one that she had known of. This guy just seemed strange. And instead of shrugging it off, she’d at least keep her guard up. Did he know who she was? She had been in the company of stalkers before, but this had felt different. “That’s all I ask, man.”
Taking the pita pocket and opening so the paper would catch anything that fell out, Jasper lifted it to her lips and took a huge bite. The flavors hit her all at once, and while the smell had certainly been nice, the taste of it made her want to gag a little, but instead of spitting it out, she choked it down, hoping it would grow on her, “It’s nice to meet you, Daniel.” His description of the food truck as ‘silly’ had been an interesting choice of words, but it’s not like she thought much of it. Instead, she forced down another bite, before taking a drink of water to wash it down, “Transplant. Used to live in another part of the country for my job, but I travelled a lot. I hope the churro pockets are better than whatever this is. How’s yours?” She looked at the pita before looking up at him.
—
“You too,” he replied. Daniel took a bite of the pita pocket but almost gagged at the taste of it. He looked around at the other few people who all seemed to be enjoying the food. What the fuck was their problem? He wrapped it up and placed the pita pocket next to him. “Tastes like fucking shit,” he answered. “Sorry. Thanks for … you know, buying it, but I cain’t eat whatever this is.” He wasn’t even that picky of an eater, but whatever was in this pita pocket was awful to him. He drank some of the water to try to get rid of the taste that lingered in his mouth. “But transplant, huh? What was you doing for work?”
He looked around for a trashcan, but of course the middle of the woods and the random food truck didn’t have a trashcan. He sighed, knowing that he would have to carry the pita pocket with him. Daniel shrugged his shoulders and stood up from where he was seated. “I best be getting on my way though. I gotta get on home.” Home to another shifter, sure, but also home where he could fix himself something good to eat. “Thanks again, for the food, but you can have the second churro pocket.”
—
Jasper snorted at his reply. It was blunt, but she appreciated it, “Yeah…that’s about what mine tastes like. Shit.” She wrapped her own pita pocket up. Maybe she’d find a stray animal to feed it to, on the way home, but even then, she was leery of the idea, not wanting to subject some poor cat or dog to what she had just experienced. Okay, well maybe the cat, but surely not the dog. “Don’t apologize. What could you expect from some random food trailer in the woods?” She glanced back at the person who had served them the food wondering if this had been an American Idol situation, where the person had been convinced by family members and friends that they were the best in the world at what they did, and just so happened to go for it? Who was she to burst their dreams though? She was currently living in that situation, and it wasn’t fun.
“Huh? Work? Oh, uh, a pharmacy rep.” Rep for pain. Heh. Heh. Jasper hoped he would buy it. She’d just have to remember to keep that little lie straight in her mind if they ever crossed paths again, but with the way he was standing up ready to leave, she felt safe in her tiny, but snug excuse. “Thanks for the company. If we meet again, I’ll let you know if the churros were shit or not.” Fuck, she hoped not.
Standing up, she made sure she had everything, “Welp, have a good one. Hope whatever you’ve got for dinner is better than this.” Jasper laughed as she went to cross in front of him, but as she did so, she felt her foot slip from some ooze that had splashed up onto the bank at some point, and before she knew it, the woman felt herself sliding. Desperate not to go in, she reached out for whatever she could grab onto, dropping everything in her hands and latching onto Daniel, hoping he’d be the thing to save her.
—
Really, what did he expect from a random food truck in the woods? Maybe Daniel thought it’d be a bit better, based on everyone else’s responses, but whatever. At least the shifter—Jasper—didn’t seem all that annoyed by his lack of interest in finishing the food. But he raised his brow at her answer as a pharmacy rep, and if it wasn’t for the bad food and his urge to get out of there, he’d maybe ask a few more questions about that. He wasn’t really sure what a pharmacy rep was. But it mattered little to him right then. “Sure, just let me know.” If either of them even remembered. He let out an amused huff as she said bye. “Thanks, you too.” He already knew that whatever he was going to cook for him and Talia would be much better than this shit.
As Jasper stepped out in front of him, he paused for a moment and took a brief step back. She slid on something, and he glanced down at what looked like ooze on the ground. Further down the little hillside was what looked like a pit of ooze. Daniel grimaced at the sight, ready to turn away, but Jasper grabbed onto him as she slipped. He grunted, a little taken aback by the sudden touch from a stranger, but his own boots slipped in ooze as he grabbed onto her waist to keep her from falling.
Daniel slipped down onto the ground with Jasper in tow with him. He landed on his back, with her still holding onto them as they both fell down. The ooze seemed to have its own motive though, as if suddenly more ooze appeared around them. The two of them slid down the little hill, right into the pool of ooze awaiting them. He tried grabbing onto the grass for some kind of hold on their descent, but none of that mattered as his fingers slipped through ooze. He gasped as soon as his legs dipped into the pool of ooze. His feet hit something at the bottom—the ground, he fucking hoped, and he stopped sliding any further. “Fucking shit,” Daniel grumbled, as he, as politely as he could, pushed Jasper off him. “You okay?”
—
It all happened in the blink of an eye. One minute they were both upright, and the next they were laying in a pit of ooze. Or better yet…the la sauce. So this was the secret ingredient to the ptt pockets, and now they were covered in it, “Well, I think I know where Pit Pockets gets their sauce from…” Jasper raised her arm as it dripped from her hand back into the pit they were both residing in, “I wonder if this shit stains clothes…” This was going to be a fun little adventure getting home. “But yeah, I’m good. Sorry, for taking you down with me. I panicked.”
With a sigh, Jasper looked up where a small crowd of people had formed, followed by the owner of Pit Pockets, “HEY! GET OUT OF MY LA SAUCE!”
“Do you think we want to fucking be in your la sauce?!” With a growl, Jasper moved forward and started trying to use her fingers to dig into the mud, but couldn’t grip anything, until she found a random large root sticking out of the muddy, ooze-covered bank, “You think this can hold our weight to get us out?” She looked back at Daniel hoping he had an idea. The smell and taste was already making her want to gag, and she knew this wouldn’t just be a one shower and you’re done sort of thing. It’d be like the equivalent of getting sprayed by a skunk ten times over. “If this asshole doesn’t help us out here, I might fucking puke in his la sauce.”
—
Daniel tried to not gag at the smell of the ooze and did his best to keep his composure. Usually he had to stay calm and normal when injured and ignore any pain, so at least he had practice at pretending that something didn’t bother him. “Probably stains, yeah,” he said as he lifted his leg up and watched the ooze drip down his pants leg. He gave Jasper a quick nod of his head as a you’re welcome as he really didn’t want to talk too much while he tried to get out of this stupid situation.
The Pit Pockets owner yelled down at them, and Daniel sighed and rolled his eyes. But the shifter yelled back and growled, and he eyed her carefully, not wanting a situation where he was stuck in a pit with an angry, uncontrollable shifter. He still always carried his weapons on him—though he had gotten rid of all of his silver at the request of Talia—and he could put up a fight against whatever she was. If any of that happened.
“Should work,” he answered with a quick nod of agreement as she pulled on the root. “Might be the only option.” He grimaced at the thought of her throwing up in the ooze, though he couldn’t blame her as even his own stomach churned as the oozy smell overwhelmed his nose. He spotted another root, and Daniel pulled on it, testing if it would hold or rip out of the earth. The root stayed in place and seemed sturdy enough. “I’ll climb this one.” He wrapped his hands around the root and began climbing up the slippery muddy sides. His boots dug into the earth, sliding down but he maintained his grip on the root as he pulled himself up further. The root barely reached the edge of the edge of the pit, and he reached his hand up to grab hold of the ground. He grunted as he pulled himself up and out of the pit of ooze, and he glanced back to Jasper. “You doing good?” In his mind, the faster the shifter got out of the ooze, the less likely she was to shift and hurt anyone.
—
Jasper watched as Daniel spotted another root and gave it a good firm tug. Perfect. They each had a way out, which would hopefully make things go a lot smoother for both of them. Now, it was time to see if she was still in as good of shape as she had once been. She had continued to work out daily and stick with a balanced diet, but she couldn’t deny the fact that she had had one too many drinks since coming to Wicked’s Rest. So deciding it best for a little extra gripping power, Jasper dipped her hands down into the ooze as if stretching out before making the climb, and let her claws ease out, just enough that she could stick them into the root or ground if need be.
Letting out a soft sigh, she reached out and latched on and began to climb. With her heels dug firmly into the ground, she used all the upper body strength she had gained from many years of wrestling and tugged herself forward. And soon, she was inching her way up; the thousands of squats and leg presses she had done over the years being put to the test. And when she finally reached the top of the slippery, goop-covered hillside, she retracted her claws and managed to climb the rest of the way, before standing up straight as ooze rolled and dripped down her body, “I’m so good. I’ll be even better when I get this la sauce off of my body.” She shot the owner of Pit Pockets a look, before walking over to Daniel.
“Well, it was nice meeting you. Sorry, it had to be in this fashion. Hopefully next time there’s better food and no pits of ooze nearby.” Jasper shot out a muddy, ooze covered hand one last time as a peace offering to their insane situation. Anywhere else, and this would’ve been staged, but only in Wicked’s Rest could a wrestler fall in a pit of ooze. Maybe it was how mud wrestling had become a thing, but ooze wrestling wasn’t anything you could ever pay Jasper to do. The smell alone would haunt her for the rest of her life.
—
As he glanced down at Jasper still climbing her way out of the pit, Daniel couldn’t help but notice the change in her hands as she gripped the root. Claws extended from her fingertips as she climbed. He knew right then what she wasn’t. The length and familiarity of the claws pointed him in only one direction, with his many years of hunting primarily werewolves, and he grew worried about the idea of this shifter partially shifting and losing her control around this small crowd of people. He wondered if she’d felt stressed and upset in the pit, causing her to partially shift at the anxiety. Even as he stood in a casual stance, he waited in preparation in case he needed to stop this shifter—somehow stop her without killing her. But as she made her way out of the pit, her claws were gone and out of sight.
Still, he couldn’t be so certain. He had promised to stop killing shifters, but his entire life was centered around hunting so he couldn’t simply wipe away that mindset with a wave of a hand and a loving promise. And he especially couldn’t shake off that feeling when everything he’d learned about Jasper right then was that she was willing to shift in front of a crowd of strangers. No, Daniel did not like that. He did not like the supernatural world becoming known to nonpowered humans. And Jasper seemed like a risk to exposing shapeshifters to humans.
Daniel barely noticed the smell of the ooze now, as all of his attention was tuned in with his hunter instincts. He knew he’d wash off and clean up as soon as he got home—sorry to Talia and Rory, but he guessed he’d be stuck in the singular bathroom for a while. He planned to change out of his oozy clothes and boots before getting into his truck, but the stench clung to his body. Multiple showers seemed like the only solution.
“Good meeting you too,” Daniel replied with a friendly grin. “Maybe we’ll run into each other again, but with better food.” He hoped to not run into her again. And with that, he turned around on his heel and trekked back to the stream that led him to here, so he could make his way back to his truck parked in Deersprings.
TIMING: recent
LOCATION: wicked’s rest state park.
PARTIES: @danielabrams & @bazzledazzle.
SUMMARY: wanting to hang out with daniel more, baz enlists the other as their guide for a hike. unfortunately, birds.
CONTENT WARNINGS: gun use, animal death.
It would surprise no one who knew Baz to learn that they weren’t much of an outdoorsman. They much preferred to enjoy the comfort of the great indoors, with soft couches and television. But they were also the sort of person who liked trying new things, and there were so many things they’d yet to experience. Maybe they only preferred the indoors to the outdoors because they hadn’t found the outdoors activity that best suited them yet! And maybe that outdoors activity needed to involve handsome men who were nice to them and willingly sacrificed flip phones on their behalf!
Which brought Baz to the State Park, where they had shown up for a guided hike and requested Daniel by name. They were already regretting it a bit — this part of the State Park was a bit swampier than they’d expected it to be — but it was sure to get better, wasn’t it? Daniel was a professional! He must have had ways of making hikes enjoyable, otherwise no one would do them! Baz wasn’t giving up hope just yet, no siree. They were determined to enjoy this.
“What sort of plant is that?” They asked, pointing to a plant at random. “Is it edible? I worry we’ll starve out here.” They’d only been hiking for about fifteen minutes, but it was good to get ahead of things like that!
—
Daniel was a bit surprised when his boss told him that he was requested for a hike by Baz. He never expected them to step foot in the great outdoors again after their last adventure with the treacherous vines. But he liked the idea of seeing them again and hopefully giving them a better time this go around. To prepare for their expedition, he packed his usual items in his hiking pack: first aid kit, snacks, satellite phone, and emergency kit. But today he packed spare knives, his takedown hunting rifle, and whatever else he could fit into his pack. He had too many run-ins with supernatural beasts in Wicked’s Rest, and he needed something better equipped than his handgun.
As they walked along the trail, Daniel pointed out a few plants and birds to Baz. He couldn’t help but wonder why they booked a guided hike, which meant paying money (and they better give him a tip afterwards too), when he would have gladly taken them on a hike for free. Extra cash wouldn’t bother him though. He needed to save up for some new weapons. Yes, weapons were the main thing on his mind nowadays, due to the whole berserker situation. It was hard to think of other things when he needed to focus on equipping himself.
He glanced over at the plant that he assumed Baz pointed at. “Sweetfern. Sort of edible. You can make a tea.” He was pretty certain that was right. “You ain’t gotta worry about starving though. I got us snacks, and there’s plenty of other plants to eat out here. This ain’t a long hike either.” Not that that mattered anyway. Their last walk was supposed to be a shortcut.
—
Daniel was certainly knowledgeable, and Baz liked that. There were few things better, in their opinion, than listening to someone go on about a subject about which they were both knowledgeable and passionate. It was something they’d learned about themself when they’d lived with Sebastian, who was partial to long, excited rants about his art (and occasionally his favorite television programs). Baz often felt that they could have listened to their flatmate for hours on end, and later found that this extended to other people as well. They liked to hear Joel talk about things that made him excited, liked to listen to Jenny and Rosemary and Molly. They’d like listening to Daniel, too; that was part of why they’d booked the hike.
Of course, they could have probably just asked him on a hike. He might have said yes — but it wasn’t a guarantee. To ask was to risk being told no, and Baz didn’t like the way that sort of thing made them feel. They’d never done well with rejection, never liked how it settled into their chest and spread down into their gut. Better to avoid it when possible, even if it meant emptying their pockets a little. They could afford it at the moment, at least — they’d yet to spend all the money they’d made selling a painting to Eden, who’d certainly overpaid even if Baz was in no hurry to let him know as much. It would allow them to pay for this hike, and therefore guarantee Daniel’s company for the duration of it.
And it was good company to have, especially on a hike like this. Daniel seemed to have thought of everything — including snacks, which were sure to stave off starvation. “You really are a mountain man!” Baz exclaimed, clapping their hands together. “Is the tea any good? From the sweetfern. I do love tea, though I know that’s a bit of a cliche.”
—
Daniel grinned at them calling him a mountain man. A blush didn’t come across his face this time, but he still liked the comment. “Not really sure. Ain’t never made it myself,” he answered. He glanced around at a few of the other plants around them. “That tree right there. That’s a pine. I’ve made tea from the pine needles. But you’ve always gotta be careful with the pine trees, because some ain’t safe for consumption. That one is though.” He paused for a moment. “It’s got a nice flavor to it, but sometimes it can be a little bitter.”
Daniel ducked his head as he neared a low hanging tree branch. He grabbed it and lifted it up for Baz to pass underneath it. “Sometimes I make different tea blends. I’ll buy some loose leaf black tea, and then throw in some plants that I’ve foraged. I’m sure we’re not the biggest fans of roses at the moment, but rose petals are a good ingredient. I like experimenting with ingredients and coming up with all sorts of combinations.” The jars in his camper proved that; multiple jars lined his shelves with various tea blends. “It is a bit of a cliche. What’s your go-to tea?”
—
Learning had always been something Baz enjoyed. As a child in their father’s house, they’d been hungry for an education that they were often denied. They were taught things deemed useful, of course — languages they might need to know to properly manipulate the people their father wanted manipulated, things they might be asked about whose answers would help them sell whatever story they were telling — but they had always ached to know more. When they got out of the house they’d been raised in, the first thing they wanted to do was expand upon their education. That was why they’d sought out art school instead of simply setting out as a freelance artist without the formal education that many went without, anyway. Even now, in the woods surrounded by trees, they hung off Daniel’s every word as he spoke about the different types of tea you could make from the trees surrounding them. “How do you know which are fit for consumption?” They questioned eagerly, looking to the tree Daniel had indicated. “Do you drink it often?”
Baz stepped under the branch as Daniel lifted it, grinning at the display of chivalry. They liked this about Daniel, liked the way he seemed to display the infamous ‘southern hospitality’ so well. “Ah, a creative tea consumer!” They grinned, though they made a brief face at the mention of roses. Yes, they were certainly not a fan of thorny flowers following their last in-person interaction with Daniel. Still, they were a fan of rose tea. “Any you’ve come across that are too good not to share?” There was a genuine curiosity to their tone. Discovering new things was always fun. As the question turned on them, they hummed thoughtfully. “I love a good milk tea,” they replied. “Kashmiri chai was always a favorite of mine, though I’ll admit that that’s partially due to the color. Doodh pati chai is nice, too. Earl grey is quite common where I’m from, of course, so I suppose I acquired a taste for it as well. Suppose I have several in rotation, really. Hard to pick a favorite!”
—
“I drink it sometimes, yeah. Usually in colder months. And well, I got a bunch of that information memorized at this point,” Daniel answered. “For pine trees, you can tell the differences based on how the needles look and smell. The tree bark is also an indicator for what type it is. Once you figure it all out, it gets easy to identify what is what.”
Identifying what is what was a requirement in the Walker-Abrams household. Daniel’s parents both grew up learning about plants, foraging, and living off the land (although the two learned this information for different reasons). His parents took him and his sister out into the woods of their mountain holler to learn about everything that surrounded them. Sometimes they took the two children to the Walker extended family property by the river for further education on plant identification. His parents quizzed Daniel and Maya by pointing at random plants and asking about them. Daniel excelled at identifying the plants (which later helped when he learned all about supernatural beasts that he hunted).
Of course, Daniel couldn’t memorize everything. That’s where plant identification books came in handy, and he had a worn-down field notebook that lived in either his back pocket or hiking pack. Right then, it was in his pocket. He pulled it out to show Baz. “Plus, I keep track of what I find to make it easier to identify.” The notebook’s cover was bent in the bottom right corner and part of the top cover was torn off. He flipped to a random page which had a pressed plant taped onto the paper with his handwritten notes around it. “This notebook is all about Wicked’s Rest plants. If I ain’t sure about something, I do something like this. Makes my life easier.”
Daniel pondered on their question as he thought about different tea blends. “So right now, I’ve got a dandelion and mint tea that tastes good. Add some lemon and honey to it. It’s good,” he answered. He listened as they described their own tea interests. “Cain’t say I know much about the difference between them chais,” he said. “Earl grey is very stereotypical though,” Daniel said with a light laugh. “But that’s fair because it tastes good.”
—
“Nothing like a hot cuppa on a cold day,” Baz agreed cheerfully, nodding their head. They studied the tree Daniel had indicated, humming thoughtfully. “So, that’s how the edible ones look. How do the inedible ones look?” Maybe they’d try for some pine needle tea just once, just to see how it was. Baz was a firm believer in giving everything a go at least a time or two, just to see whether or not it was enjoyable. They didn’t know any other way to find out if they liked something or not. How could they confidently claim to hate something they’d never tasted or experienced? More pressing still, how could they cope knowing there were things they’d not yet done?
That was the core of it, with Baz. They’d spent all their life watching other people experience things that they could only ever try secondhand. Until the day they’d left their father’s house for good, they’d never had anything that was theirs alone — not even a name or a face. How could they not want to try everything, after that? How could they not yearn to know what pine needle tea tasted like, or how it felt to make someone laugh in the middle of the forest with no one else around to claim credit?
They were delighted when Daniel pulled out a worn notebook, leaning in to squint at the random page he’d opened it to. They took a mental snapshot of the handwritten notes, looking utterly fascinated at the peek into Daniel’s mind. “You’ve a lot of information in there,” they observed. “You must spend a lot of time looking into the plantlife here. Is it much different than the plantlife elsewhere? Even putting aside vines that pull people beneath the earth, I know this town is infamous for some of its… more unique quirks. Notice a lot of things like that, have you?”
Their expression remained utterly engrossed as Daniel recounted a few of the teas he’d tried recently, and they nodded along and made mental notes of all of it. “I’d imagine they taste rather earthy, yeah?” They hummed, nodding their head. “You might like them. Maybe I’ll make some for you sometime. I’m not much in the kitchen, but I don’t think they’d let me keep the accent if I couldn’t manage a good cup of tea.” They winked, grinning. “My old flatmate turned me on to a few of them. Earl grey was all my mum, though. Always been her favorite.”
As they walked, the ground around them turned a bit mushier, and Baz made a face. “I’m glad I wore my bad shoes for this. Could you imagine if I’d worn the nice ones? That’d be a right —” They were cut off by a loud squawk nearby. “Oh! Rude bird. Recognize the call at all, Mountain Man?”
—
“Uhh… not like that,” Daniel answered. A really solid answer. He didn’t know how to describe what the other pines looked like off the top of his head. It was one of those things where he just knew when looking at it. And if he wasn’t certain, he could look it up. “Sorry. I know what they look like, but I ain’t know how to describe it right now.” Baz was very inquisitive, which he liked, but he was perfectly fine admitting when he wasn’t sure. He hated when people acted like they knew everything and gave out incorrect information.
“Yeah, I spend quite a bit of time out here, familiarizing myself with the plant life.” He liked knowing what he could about the area. It (usually) helped when answering questions for people. It also allowed him to understand what plants were in which areas. He also needed this for understanding what types of supernatural beasts might be attracted to different types of places. After the vines incident, he made note of that plant for sure. He went back to the area to find any traces of it. All that remained were dead vines that had been cut off from their roots.
“I guess there’s a few odd plants out here,” Daniel replied. Even though he and Baz were both attacked by those killer vines, he didn’t want to talk too much about the supernatural strange things in the town. That could possibly just be explained away as a carnivorous plant. Which reminded him: “A friend and I went to the Wormwoods recently. There’s pitcher plants there, which are carnivorous. They can eat frogs and tiny animals. Never seen one before she and I went there.” He shrugged his shoulders. “All sorts of strange plants around town that I wouldn’t expect to find here.”
Daniel nodded his head at the offer. “Sure, if you ever want to make me some chai, I ain’t gonna turn down that offer.” He was very agreeable to offers of food and drinks from people. It helped that he liked Baz—made it easier to agree to chai. “Agreed. They’d have to take away your accent. It’s like if I couldn’t make southern sweet tea, which is …,” he trailed off, “something unique, I guess.” He chuckled. “It’s black tea with a fuckin’ insane amount of sugar added to it. A ridiculous amount. And you drink it iced. Grew up drinking that all the time in my family.” Except for his mother, who always refused to drink it. “Anyway, they’d take away my accent if I didn’t drink sweet tea.”
Daniel’s hiking boots were covered in layers of dirt and dust from all his time in the wilderness. They were built for any type of terrain, including the muddier sections. He appreciated how they were water-resistant and dried off quickly. Wet boots would be a nightmare for his line of work. He listened to the bird call, and he thought it sounded familiar. “Ain’t a call I’m too familiar with,” he admitted. It sounded off again, and he tried to listen more closely to it. “Not sure on that.” He racked his brain as he tried to think why it sounded familiar to him. “But it is a rude bird for interrupting you mid-sentence. Oughta be ashamed of itself.”
—
They laughed at Daniel’s description — or, rather, lack thereof — of what the inedible pine trees might look like. They could hardly blame him for his inability to find the words, though they couldn’t quite relate to it, either. As both an artist and a poet, Baz tended to find it easy to describe things they’d seen, even if they’d only seen them once or hadn’t seen them in a while. But they understood, too, that not everyone was like that. Baz was a much more visual thinker than most. Perhaps it was even tied to their nature, to the way their body remembered every detail of a person’s face through touch and touch alone. In any case, Daniel couldn’t be faulted for an inability to describe something he wasn’t looking at, and Baz nodded to let him off the hook. “That’s all right. You can point it out if we come across one. Or I can just make sure I’m only making tea out of pine needles from trees just like that,” they grinned, offering Daniel a wink.
Though they weren’t much of an outdoorsperson themself, Baz could understand the appeal of spending time outside. Nature was certainly beautiful, even if their connection to it would never come close to the depth felt by nymphs or nixies. If they didn’t recognize the distinct lack of fluttering in their stomach to mark Daniel as definitively not fae, they might have wondered if he was a nymph of some kind, though perhaps not for long. He had a certain quality about him that fae rarely possessed, the kind of thing that felt much more human. “I think the outdoors suits you, for what it’s worth,” they offered. “You seem to fit in well among the trees.” A nymph might disagree with them on that, of course, but nymphs were rarely willing to accept anyone as belonging in their domains. It was a bit boring, really. Baz couldn’t imagine willingly allowing oneself to be so lonely.
They wondered, not for the first time, how much Daniel might know about the supernatural world. He’d acted quickly enough with the vines, but that might have just been an instinctual thing. Or… maybe supernatural plants were far easier to explain away than supernatural people were. Baz wasn’t certain. They’d been aware of this world all their life, after all; they couldn’t imagine not knowing about the things they knew. “Suppose we’re lucky they can only stomach the small things,” they joked with a grin. “Wouldn’t want to be eaten by a plant. Bad enough to be pulled underground by one.”
The idea of making tea for Daniel was a nice one. If this was an example of Baz familiarizing themself with Daniel’s environment, maybe that could signify Daniel familiarizing himself with Baz’s. Maybe they’d pitch an arthouse for their next hangout, with tea after. (Maybe they could convince Daniel into their bedroom, too. They’d been trying!) “Can’t have that, can we? I’d be nothing without my accent!” Untrue, of course; they lost their accent any time they borrowed a body that didn’t have one, though their dialect and vocabulary remained that of someone who’d grown up in London. “You drink it iced? Feels a bit sacrilegious to me, I’m afraid. Tea is meant to be hot! That’s the point of it!” But they grinned as they said it. If Daniel wanted to make them sweet tea, they’d be willing to try it, of course. But only because they were charitable.
The same could not be said for the bird, who was not charitable at all. They huffed as Daniel admitted he didn’t recognize its call, half-intrigued by the idea of something unknown but half-annoyed at having been interrupted. “I’ve lost my train of thought now,” they admitted. “It sounds close, though. The bird, not my train of thought. That’s gone off to the next station, I’m afraid.” The bird’s call echoed again, closer now. Baz heard a splash. “Some sort of water bird, I assume?”
—
Daniel grinned at their compliment. He always liked thinking about himself as belonging in the outdoors. It felt nice to have someone else recognize that. Sometimes he felt like he viewed this all a bit different from other rangers he’d met throughout his life. Sure, he understood the dangers lurking everywhere—natural and supernatural, but he enjoyed being surrounded by the woods. It didn’t feel stressful for him. The sounds of tree branches and leaves rustling in the breeze relaxed him. Birds chirping. Squirrels running through the underbrush. Deer hopping through the tall grass. Sometimes even the sound of something supernatural could be oddly soothing, especially if he could already tell it wasn’t a major threat. Daniel would let it slide, pretending that he didn’t sense or hear it moving through the brush. Perhaps that made him a bad hunter, not going after something he sensed. But he didn’t plan to go around telling anyone about this. “Thank you,” he replied. “I enjoy it all, really. Being out here each day.” He wasn’t going to mention how he literally lived in the woods too.
“Oh no, wouldn’t want that at all. Barely even wanna be dragged underground by one.” Daniel shook his head. “That was pretty weird, huh? Can’t say I’ve ever encountered something like that.” While he hadn’t encountered that, he had met his fair share of strange supernatural plants in his life. He wanted to gauge what Baz thought about it all. He wouldn’t jump right into talking about the supernatural of it all, but he could maybe skirt around the edges. Figure out what they may or may not know.
“It being iced ain’t the only sacrilegious thing. Like I said, there’s a ridiculous amount of sugar. Might as well be a glass of sugar with some tea. Ain’t ever gonna make you drink that though, but I’m sure it’d be a strange experience for you.” He grinned though. “But you are gonna owe me chai.” Maybe going to Baz’s place could give him more information on them. He was certainly interested in spending a bit more time with them, maybe seeing where an evening or night went, but he needed to be extra cautious in this town filled with supernatural beings. Daniel couldn’t sleep with them unless he had more figured out about them. Even though he certainly thought about it—and the idea crossed his mind again today as they hiked along the trail together.
“Maybe your thought will stay on the train for the return trip. Or it’ll get off at the next station and wait for us there.” Another call of the bird alerted Daniel, and the call sounded even more familiar to him now. The splashing water sounded off right as his body alerted him to some sort of beast nearby. Just great! He hoped that this time Baz wouldn’t have to deal with something supernatural in the woods, but that might not be the case for them. “Yeah, maybe something like a heron,” Daniel commented. Unlikely. He turned his head towards the direction of the noises.
But then large wings flapped in the air above them. Daniel paused to look up at the bird. His eyes scanned its body and the length of its wingspan. Well, it was certainly a water bird but also a supernatural one. The call sounds clicked in his head as he recognized why they sounded so familiar. It was just a creature that he didn’t encounter too often. But he wasn’t worried about it. It was one of those creatures that he wouldn’t hunt unless he felt threatened by it. He doubted the bird would come after them. It wasn’t mating season after all, and it was maybe hunting for a fae to eat. “That might’ve been the rude bird. Looks a little weird …,” he trailed off and paused to think about it, “but maybe a blue heron.”
—
Daniel was certainly in his element out here among the trees and the bushes. It looked beautiful on him, the comfort of being so at ease. Baz often thought so. Someone who was at their maximum comfort level, no matter who they were, always seemed to glow in a way that was almost ethereal. Seeing Daniel like this reminded them a bit of seeing Sebastian with a paintbrush in his hand, or seeing Joel working on one of his sculptures. That was the thing Baz often thought other people didn’t understand so well — everyone in the world was some sort of artist. They just utilized different canvases. And this — the breeze gently blowing through the trees, the soft marshy ground beneath their feet, the animals in the underbrush — was Daniel’s canvas. “I can tell,” they offered, grinning slightly. “That you enjoy it, I mean. You look the part.” They wondered if this was how they looked in the midst of writing a poem, or when they were sketching strangers in the Common. They found they liked the idea of it just a little.
They certainly liked the idea of that more than they liked the idea of running into any more plants that might drag them beneath the surface of the earth, that was for certain. “Barely? Does that mean you do want to be dragged underground by one a little?” There was a teasing lilt to their voice, and they shrugged at the observation that the plants had been weird. “Not the strangest thing I’ve seen in this town, I’m afraid. Though plenty of stranger things were also a good deal more enjoyable. I can’t say I enjoyed our underground adventure much. Even if I did like the company.” They offered Daniel a wink. In truth, most of what they said was a deflection. It wasn’t even an intentional thing, really; Baz danced around most subjects without even really meaning to. They didn’t care to talk about the supernatural, even to someone who knew little of it. If Daniel asked, they’d tell him just as they had Jenny. But Daniel didn’t strike them as the sort to ask.
“Well, I can’t say I’m not relieved to hear that I won’t be expected to try it. I’m all for trying new things, but a person has to have limits! They’d probably revoke my citizenship if I went round drinking American sweet teas. I’d never be allowed back in England!” Which might not be a bad thing, given the fact that England was where their father was and they had little intention of ever seeing him again. “I’m happy to share my chai with you. Maybe I’ll convert you away from the iced sugar monstrosity, hm? I’ll make an Englishman of you yet.”
Chuckling, the doppelganger shook their head. “No telling,” they admitted. “Tends to do its own thing, I’m afraid.” And right now, it was sufficiently distracted by the bird. It sounded both large and close, and Baz watched Daniel to gauge his reaction. He didn’t seem afraid, which was only mostly comforting. Baz knew Daniel was cool under pressure, after all, had seen it for themself when the plants dragged the pair of them beneath the ground. If Daniel had seemed afraid or anxious, it would have been a sure sign that something very bad was on its way. The fact that he was relaxed didn’t mean much, it just meant that this wasn’t the worst case scenario. Baz clicked their tongue thoughtfully. “A heron?”
The flapping of wings above them drew their attention, and they craned their neck to look up at the sky. It was hard to see much of the bird; mostly, they caught its silhouette. It was certainly large, and it could have been a heron for all Baz knew. They weren’t overtly familiar with birds, after all. “Is it really blue? I love it when birds have bright colors. Always feels a bit like a painting.” The bird circled above them, seemingly more interested in the pair of them than it was in flying away. “Oh, looks like it’s taken a liking to us, hm?”
—-
“Aw, you mean you didn’t enjoy getting swarmed by vines?” Daniel joked. He could understand entirely why Baz probably didn’t enjoy something like that, even though he felt a bit of a thrill once he figured out the situation. Something in him enjoyed situations like that when they worked out in his favor. “See, I had all sorts of fun being heroic for you. Rescuing you from the evil vines and thorns.” He winked back at them. “But I think that’s probably the weirdest thing I’ve ever experienced. Such a weird plant.” He decided to move on from that for now, but he kept note that they had experienced other strange things in the town.
“I highly doubt you’re gonna get turn me into an Englishman,” he laughed. “But convincing me to like chai or any other tea will probably work. I’m very open to that.” Daniel usually stuck to his own ways and what he knew. He didn’t like venturing into town too often because he disliked the overwhelming feeling of people everywhere. He kept to the Pines. The forested area felt comforting to him while the the busy town streets and noises caused him to feel more stressed. Somehow a few people convinced him to visit different spots in town, but he still disliked the feeling. However tea? He was open to new teas.
“Not much of a bright blue. More of a grayish-blue,” Daniel answered. The bird above them didn’t really look like a heron, but it was the closest match that he could think of in the moment. Baz seemed to go along with what he said, which made his life a little easier. It was annoying if someone who knew a lot about birds asked questions about a particular supernatural one.
Although he assumed that it would fly away from them, the creature stayed above them. It circled around them, as if it had spotted something. Daniel glanced around the area from the corners of his eyes, trying to figure out if he could see anything suspicious around them. He listened carefully to the sounds of the forest, but nothing stuck out to him as strange. It wasn’t as if he could sense what this creature hunted. He hoped that it would circle around closer to its prey because he really didn’t want to explain to them what this bird was doing. “Yeah, it seems like it has,” he agreed.
The bird swooped down above their heads, and Daniel ducked his head. “You okay?” It flew a little bit in front of them before standing on the trail a short ways ahead of them. The bird stood taller than a blue heron, as it was but a little shorter than both Daniel and Baz. Its eyes peered right at them. He stopped walking and held his arm out to stop Baz too. “Well, that’s odd,” he commented. He knew that mating season should have already ended for it. Maybe climate change impacted its season, extending it further into the fall months. Anything could be true! “It’ll probably fly away soon.”
—
“I can get behind bondage under the right circumstances,” Baz replied with another wink. “Not a fan of the thorns, though. I’m not the sort to take pain with my pleasure, you know.” They much preferred situations like this one, where things were more laid back but they still had ample opportunity to flirt. Although… “You did play the role of dashing hero rather well, didn’t you? It suits you. Next time I’m trapped by evil plants, I’ll certainly be giving you a ring.” They couldn’t help but wonder how much honesty was behind Daniel’s claim, though. They liked humans — sometimes, they even preferred humans to fae — but they could admit that it was a bit cumbersome that they didn’t have the same rather obvious tells for lying that fae did. If Daniel were a nymph, it would be easy enough for Baz to gauge whether he was in pain due to a dishonest statement. As it was, the doppelganger could only take the man at his word.
Daniel being open to enjoying the various teas Baz intended to introduce him to was a good thing; the doppelganger couldn’t help but wonder what else the man might be open to enjoying. The flirting was good fun, but Baz would like to take things a bit farther. After all, they were only human! Or… human-adjacent, as it was. “You know, American southern accents aren’t so different from English ones. They’re typically cited as being closest to a British accent, actually! That means you’re already partway there. Add a bit of tea and a rugby jersey…” They trailed off with a bright grin.
Baz didn’t know any birds well enough to wonder if Daniel was being honest or not, and this one was too far away for them to properly make out the color, anyway. Of course, they were disappointed to hear that the heron Daniel was describing was less vibrant in color than they’d hoped for. “Shame,” they commented. “I like the brightly colored ones. Suppose those are usually more tropical though, yeah?” They felt like they ought to be, at least.
This bird, though, was right at home in the marshy area they’d hiked to, and seemed to have no intention of leaving. Baz didn’t mind it, really… at least, not until the bird swooped down closer. They ducked their head, glancing up to see feathers flying and fluttering before it landed nearby. For the first time, Baz got a good look at it. And it was… a bit more recognizable than they’d have liked.
All fae were sensitive to iron, of course, but doppelgangers had a more… extreme reaction than most. If they so much as touched iron, they’d lose their form for a time. Naturally, that meant they’d made it a point to learn when and where they might come into contact with anything that posed a threat to them. Like, say, a bird with an iron beak and iron-infused feathers.
Immediately, Baz ducked behind Daniel. Their heart was pounding in their chest, nerves shooting through them. “Maybe you ought to chase it off,” they suggested. “Or shoot it! Yeah! You’ve probably got a gun on you, right?”
—
Daniel raised a brow and smirked at them. “You know, I’m big on customer service,” (he wasn’t; he just liked cash tips), “Gotta keep the customer satisfied. So I’ll keep all that in mind. Bondage but no pain. I’m sure I can handle that.” He chuckled as Baz played along with his hero comment. “Of course, darling. Just call me, and I’ll come to your rescue.” Joking and flirting with them was fun for him. He was getting back into the groove of his flirtatious ways, and he liked how it came easy enough with them. He probably would, at some point, take them up on their previous offer of finding out what they offer for free. “Yeah, I ain’t know about getting me into a jersey.” He made a face of disgust at the idea of that. “Guess I can’t be an Englishman.”
He shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah, I think there’s a lot more colorful birds in the tropics. But there’s other colorful ones around here too.” Daniel preferred to keep pretending that the bird was a blue heron. The lie was easy enough for him to keep up as long as the bird kept away from them. But the stymphalian bird was very much so not a blue heron. Even looking at it, he knew that it didn’t really look like one. Just sort of, vaguely. Like it could be some really weird messed up version of it.
However Baz’s response to the bird took him by surprise. He didn’t expect them to suddenly go from being intrigued by the idea of a heron to hiding behind him. He absolutely did not expect them to request that he shoot the bird. “You good back there? I ain’t gonna shoot it.” They were right though. Daniel had two guns on him. He could just shoot it—it wasn’t as though he hadn’t killed these birds in the past. “Why you want me to shoot it, anyway? It’s just a bird.” The bird moved closer towards them, seemingly interested in something. If it kept coming towards them, he might just shoot it just to be done with this entire situation.
—
Baz brightened as Daniel seemed open to the idea of… servicing their needs. Perhaps they should have brought up the idea of bondage sooner; maybe then they could have skipped the hike and moved right along to more enjoyable activities. But late was always better than never, so they nodded their head. “You seem like the type of man who knows his way around knots,” they grinned. “Part of the Mountain Man energy, yeah? I bet you’ve got all sorts of fun tricks to show me.” This sort of thing was always fun, the flirting. Baz was best at it when it didn’t mean much. That was how it was with most things, really. Low stakes were where Baz shone the brightest. “Don’t you southerners love your jerseys, too? American football, and all that?”
Colorful birds would have been far preferable to the one before them now, and not just because Baz preferred it when things were pretty. Colorful birds could, presumably, still be dangerous — sharp beaks and talons could be utilized to cause pain no matter what was behind them — but they’d be less specifically dangerous to Baz. And the doppelganger preferred that sort of thing. Better for someone else to share the danger, because then they’d have more of a stake in fighting it. It was difficult for Baz to believe that someone would save them if it was just them that needed saving. People needed extra incentive, needed to share in the danger or know someone better would suffer because of it, too.
They told themself that Daniel’s lack of concern regarding the bird was due to ignorance. They didn’t know what the bird was, and they didn’t know what Baz was, either, so they couldn’t know the threat. On some level, though, they remained uncertain that it would matter. Would Daniel care if he knew the bird was a threat to Baz, and not to him? Some treacherous part of them whispered that he’d leave them behind and just go. “No, I — I really think you should shoot it. It could be dangerous! It’s very big, isn’t it? And it looks a bit angry. Please shoot it?” The bird, for its part, seemed rather zeroed in on Baz. It attempted to get around Daniel, squawking dangerously.
—
“Absolutely part of the mountain man thing. Gotta know all sorts of knots to survive in the wilderness. And for other purposes whenever they come up.” Daniel winked at them. “All sorts of tricks.” He knew his way around ropes and knots for many purposes, and sometimes those purposes came in handy for fun activities with others. Not that he was doing as much with those types of activities these days. “Some southerners, sure. But not me. Never cared for that shit.” He shrugged his shoulders. Sports never grabbed his attention, and he spent his time focused on hunting and whatever his non-hunter friends did. His dad liked watching football and baseball, but Daniel took more after his mom with his lack of interest. It all seemed silly to him. “Don’t ask me nothing about American sports. Can’t help you with any of that.”
Baz’s reaction to the bird confused Daniel. The bird’s actions also confused him because he really couldn’t figure out why it was interested in the two of them. The bird moved closer to them, but it barely noticed Daniel. He tried to wrap his head around why it seemed to ignore him but was so focused on them. Although he didn’t exactly plan to shoot it, he kept his body between the bird and Baz, moving around as the bird moved. “It’s just … um … well, I don’t know what it’s doing. Might be hungry or something.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he paused his movements. He still kept his arms out to keep the bird away from Baz as it hopped and jumped towards them. But he tried to piece together why the bird wouldn’t leave them alone. Why it didn’t just fly away to go find some food somewhere else. Something caught its attention, and Daniel could tell that it wasn’t him. The bird could have easily come after him by now. He glanced back towards Baz. “I’ll shoot it if you tell me why it’s so interested in you.”
—
“I’m sure the other purposes are a bit more fun than wilderness survival, aren’t they? I mean, surviving the mountains is all well and good, but I’d much rather put those skills to use in a more controlled environment.” Survival, of course, was something Baz was interested in, if only because they were interested in the ‘not dying’ bit, but given a choice… well, wouldn’t anyone prefer to use knot-tying skills in the bedroom than in a life-or-death situation? “Just as well. I’ve never quite understood American football. I’m barely a fan of real football. Sports aren’t quite my area of interest.” They’d watch it if it was on, sometimes, but not with any real interest.
At least Daniel was keeping between Baz and the dreadful bird, even if he couldn’t possibly understand why the bird was interested in Baz. This would be easier to explain if they had a better idea of Daniel’s understanding of the supernatural… and how he felt about fae… and a lot of other things, actually. There were too many variables Baz couldn’t account for, too many unknowns floating around. It was impossible to keep up. “Well, I haven’t got any breadcrumbs on me, so I don’t know what it’s after!” They replied, anxiety slipping into their voice. If the bird was hungry, Baz was willing to bet that they looked like a tempting snack. And not in the sort of way they liked to be thought of as a snack!
They groaned as Daniel offered them an ultimatum, hating the idea of it. “How am I meant to know why it’s so interested in me? It’s not as if I speak bird, is it?” The bird shot forward again, trying to get around Daniel, and Baz screeched. “Shoot it first! Then I’ll tell you! It takes explaining, Daniel, and I can’t do much explaining if I’m afraid for my life!”
—
“Right… and it for some reason ain’t interested in the snacks I got in my pack.” Daniel thought through everything he knew about the bird. His mother taught him everything he needed to know about all the different beasts he encountered. He memorized everything, and she quizzed him at random moments to tell her about a random creature that she named. He found it easy enough to remember as much as he could. Of course, the significant details were how to kill everything. Although these days, he much preferred using his gun for a quick kill. The other methods remained in his head, but those took so much time when a quick shot or two finished the job. Along with knowing all the ways to kill beasts, he still remembered other types of information about them to assist if he needed to track them down. Such as their eating habits. If the stymphalian wanted to eat fae, why would he bother killing it if it wasn’t a threat to him or other humans.
But the stymphalian seemed very interested in Baz. Daniel was never one to act too rashly—to jump into a situation without thinking through things first. He calculated most everything he did, from his footsteps when he walked to his hand movements as he spoke. Which is why he didn’t want to be impulsive in their present situation. Even though his mind suspected that there had to be a reason that bird wanted to get to Baz. Of course, he wasn’t an expert by any means in the world of the fae. He understood enough to get him by so he could recognize some suspicious behaviors. His hunts with the Farran family helped him learn just enough information. All of his life he memorized information about plants and animals (supernatural and non-supernatural), so he tried to remember some things about creatures that he didn’t hunt.
Daniel knew that this particular bird ate fae, and he tried to recall what he could about fae. And Baz. Attempted to think if there was anything in particular about them that struck him. They did seem full of themself, so there was certainly that. As the bird jumped forward again, he decided that he might as well shoot it. Maybe they would actually tell him what he wanted to know. “Fine.” The bird was close enough that he didn’t worry about putting together his hunting rifle. He removed his handgun from its concealed holster. “I ain’t wanting to hear no whining if I kill it.” He had suspicions about why the bird was so drawn to Baz, but he also knew that it didn’t technically mean anything. He didn’t want to make that assumption, but their answer that they would need to explain things to him still raised his suspicions. But then again, maybe they had something in their pockets that the bird wanted.
Daniel hated the idea of shooting it, so he fired a shot up into the air first. The sound ricocheted through the woods. The bird jumped back at first, flapping its wings as it moved away from them. He narrowed his eyes at it as he wished it would fly away and find something else. But it stayed there, curiously looking at him now. Before it could make another movement, before it could attempt to strike Daniel, he fired his gun once more, aimed right at the bird’s chest. Another shot sounded off as the bullet struck its neck.
—
“Well, maybe it doesn’t like trail snacks!” Baz knew, of course, why the bird had no interest in Daniel. It was the same reason why their stomach didn’t flutter when he was near, the same reason why they let Daniel believe they were human. Daniel wasn’t fae. Baz suspected that he was human, though they didn’t know that for certain. They could say, however, without shadow of a doubt, that he didn’t have the same quirks they did, could say with absolute confidence that he wasn’t one of the fair folk. That could be used to their advantage here, of course, because it meant that Daniel was in less danger than Baz was, meant that the bird would not attack him. The inverse of this was true, too, of course; Daniel could leave Baz behind and suffer nothing for it. The thought made their skin crawl and their throat ache. They tried to ignore the feeling.
Daniel would not leave them. They repeated the assurance to themself silently, in the privacy of their own mind where the lie couldn’t twist their stomach into knots. Daniel would not leave them, even if they told him they weren’t human. Daniel would kill the bird just as he’d destroyed the roots underground. Daniel would protect Baz, because that was the sort of man he was. The thought became a mantra in their mind, a security blanket they could drape over their shoulders and burrow into as the bird made another pass for them. They would be fine, and Daniel would not leave them. They needed, so badly, for it to be true.
They had never been one to find relief in the presence of a weapon, but the feeling was a crushing one as Daniel unholstered his gun at last. Baz had hardly any familiarity with firearms at all, but they found themself yearning for the sound of a shot fired now, found themself aching for it. Daniel firing his gun would mark Baz as safe, and safe was the only thing they ever really wanted to be. “No whining,” they promised. “You kill that thing, Daniel, and I’ll drop to my knees for you right here and now if you like. Middle of the woods, no problem!” Sex for safety was a simple trade, especially when they already wanted to sleep with Daniel, anyway.
At first, Daniel’s gun shot up into the air, and Baz let out a groan. What was he doing? The bird needed to be shot dead, before it tried taking a bite out of Baz! Luckily, Daniel seemed to get the picture. He fired off another shot, and then another. There was a thump as the bird fell to the ground, and Baz’s shoulders slumped. Finally.
“Right, then!” They clapped their hands together. They’d agreed to tell Daniel the truth if he killed the bird, and he’d done that. Baz might not like it, but being fae did mean they were (sometimes forcibly) a person of their word. “Suppose you’ll be wondering why it wanted to eat me. Bit hard to explain, really. A quick shag in the dirt is still on the table as an alternative, if you’d rather avoid the complicated story!” Couldn’t fault someone for trying, could you?
—
Daniel furrowed his brows as they explained that they would drop to their knees for him if he shot the bird. They were just talking about all the uses for ropes and knots, getting flirty with each other, but he didn’t expect them to offer sex for him killing a bird. Not that he’d mind having sex with them in the woods—not a problem at all, actually! He would enjoy that. But he didn’t feel right about how it was offered. Baz’s offer only made him feel a bit more suspicious about them too. They wouldn’t offer up sex unless they really wanted this bird dead. Even though he knew he could remove himself from this situation and let them defend themself, he didn’t really have that in him. He couldn’t make such a drastic choice and have even more blood on his hands. There was plenty of blood as it was.
As the bird collapsed to the ground, he returned his gun to its holster. He stepped forward to drag it off the trail so it wouldn’t be visible to other hikers. He planned to come back later to better dispose of it so it wouldn’t smell and attract curious people. But Daniel paused in his steps as Baz began speaking again. Right. If he shot the bird, Baz would tell him what he wanted to know. They once again offered sex, and he paused as he thought it over. He could simply agree to sex right then in the woods. Instead of figuring out if they were human or something else, he could ignore all that for sex. It wasn’t a bad offer, and Daniel mulled it over for a brief moment. But unfortunately for them, he was an expert at denying himself anything pleasurable that would make his life more enjoyable. He turned his attention away from the dead bird and towards Baz. “I’d rather hear the long complex story right now. Killing doesn’t really get me in the mood, you know?” (Not necessarily true). “I ain’t never seen a bird like this before, so I’d be fascinated to learn more. About you. And it.” He looked down at the dead bird. “And we’re on a hike, so we’ve got plenty of time for talking.”
—
Daniel paused and, for a moment, Baz thought he might take them up on the more enjoyable of the two offers. It would have been preferable, really, even if this wasn’t the ideal setting for that sort of thing. Baz would always prefer something a bit softer, more comfortable — a bed, a couch, even a floor — but sometimes, you made do with what you had. They were already scoping out the best place to hang their shirt when Daniel spoke again, crushing their dreams of a quick romp in the forest floor and replacing it with the far less appealing prospect of telling the truth. They blew a disappointed huff of air through their nose, trying to figure out the best way to approach this. If Daniel didn’t even know what the bird was, and had never seen anything like it before, it made explaining things more complicated. They’d be opening a door that he might prefer stay closed.
“Well… There’ll be a lot of preamble, in that case,” they said carefully. “And you’ll have to agree not to think me mad. Or at least to try to keep an open mind.” They were careful not to ask for a promise, because they didn’t want to bind Daniel into thinking they were sane. That sort of thing could get all kinds of messy, and Baz would just as soon avoid it. They liked Daniel well enough not to want to break his brain with an accidental promise bind that could affect the way he thought, after all. “Suppose we can start with the bird! A stymphalian bird. Iron beak, iron feathers. Likes to… eat a certain type of person. Which is why it was after me! Which I can get into, of course, but like I said, I’ll need you to keep an open mind, because it might sound a bit far-fetched if you’re not… used to this sort of thing.”
—
“Open-minded,” Daniel said with a nod of his head. He tried to remember all the things he should and shouldn’t say. He decided to go back to being quiet, keeping his mouth as shut as possible. He enjoyed long silences and not talking that much. He knew how to stay quiet in a situation like this where he wanted to let Baz speak and explain the situation. He reminded himself that he needed to act surprised by any of the information they told him. Maybe he could convince them that he had a really good poker face, so he knew how to keep calm in strange situations. Perhaps not too difficult of an idea due to how he responded to the thorns situations with them.
“Bird with an iron beak?” he asked with a raised brow in disbelief. As if to prove it to himself, he squatted down next to the corpse and reached out to it. His hand slid across the dull black beak, smoothed from years of use. His fingers brushed a few roughened spots. “Feels like one of my cast irons,” Daniel commented. He still thought about how he wanted to drag the bird off the trail and stash it in the underbrush. He kept his ears out in case he heard people approaching, in case he needed to quickly move it. Daniel brushed some of the feathers. He contemplated plucking a few to keep with him, just in case. Maybe when he pulled the corpse off the trail, he’d snatch some and keep them in his hiking pack. “As far-fetched as a bird with an iron beak and iron feathers?” He stood up, eyes focused on the bird, before he looked towards Baz. “Yeah, get into it. Why would it wanna eat you?”
—
They studied Daniel as he responded, trying to decide how much to believe him. They were sure he’d try to keep an open mind, but wasn’t that sort of thing easier said than done? If he knew nothing at all about the world, if Baz was the first person to open his eyes to it, it’d be hard for him not to think they had a few screws loose. Things like thorny vines dragging you beneath the earth or strange birds trying to come a bit too close to you in the woods were simple enough, but accepting someone you knew wasn’t human if you lived in a world where human was the only option? That was a whole different sort of ball game.
Baz grimaced at the look on Daniel’s face, because if a bird with an iron beak already seemed odd to him then it was probably a bad sign on how well he’d handle everything moving forward. The doppelganger watched him lean down towards the bird, touch it gently as if to test the words. If Daniel believed only what he could see and touch, did it mean Baz would have to show him some sort of a demonstration? They didn’t particularly want to; when they felt uneasy or uncomfortable as they did now, clinging to Sebastian’s face felt like clinging to a security blanket. They didn’t really want to trade it in for another, even for the second or two that it would take to give Daniel a demonstration of what they were.
They’d stick with words for now, they decided. No need to cross that particular bridge until they’d come to it. Their weight shifted uncomfortably between their feet, and they nodded. “Bit more far-fetched, I’d say,” they admitted. “I’m not exactly… human, you see. The people this bird sees as dietary supplements aren’t people like you. I’m, ah…” They trailed off, eyes trailing down to the dead bird. “Have you ever heard of fae?”
—
Daniel maintained a poker face as he observed Baz. He noticed their facial expressions as they looked at him and answered his question. He watched as they looked uncomfortable to answer the question. It made sense as he knew that he would feel the same if they questioned him about anything that he had done during their encounters. Why did he have so many knives when they were attacked by the vines? Or why does he carry a gun with him? Why did he aim and fire so smoothly at this “unknown” bird? For now, he didn’t mind keeping the attention on Baz to answer his questions. He much preferred to keep all the attention on them and let them do the talking. It made his life easier.
He scrunched up his face in confusion at their answer about not being human. After his whole situation with Wyatt a few months ago, Daniel practiced looking confused by information he already knew. He didn’t want to get caught again. “Not … human?” He crossed his arms over his chest as he looked over at them. “I ain’t heard of … what did you say? Fae?” He realized that he should maybe lean more into this whole confusion thing. Maybe a regular human with his type of personality would have a bit of a different response. He shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Come on, be serious, Baz. Don’t fuck around with me. What are you talking about?”
—
They could see it written all over Daniel’s face. He didn’t believe a word of what they were saying, did he? Sentient vines trying to kill you was one thing, as was a species of bird you didn’t quite recognize with iron feathers and a beak to match, but learning that someone you knew (a friend, maybe? Would Daniel call them friends? Baz was afraid to ask) wasn’t human was another matter entirely. There was no way Daniel was equipped for this sort of thing, even if he did spend a good deal of time in the woods of Wicked’s Rest with all sorts of monsters and beasties. He probably knew other people who weren’t human — most people did, even if they weren’t aware of it — but no one went around advertising that sort of thing, did they? People kept it quiet, kept it secure for one reason or another. The fact that most people wouldn’t believe such claims was one such reason.
Baz sighed, the sound turning into a groan towards the end. “I can assure you, Daniel, this is one scenario where I’m being very serious!” Were they going to have to prove it to him? Swap their face out for another in the middle of the woods? That wasn’t the sort of thing that appealed to Baz, but they weren’t sure there was much of an alternative if they wanted to make out of this without Daniel thinking them mad. (And they did want that, very much so in fact. They liked Daniel. They didn’t want him thinking they’d lost it.) “Look, do you remember those vines that grabbed us up the first time we met in person? Those aren’t normal, yeah? And neither is the bird there. So, is it much of a stretch to think that… other things are real, too?”
—
Daniel rolled his eyes and shook his head. Really tried to make it seem like he didn’t believe them. “Okay, okay. I’ll keep listening. Just … this ain’t making no sense.” He kept his arms crossed and attempted to stay surprised, but he remained on high alert. Baz did not seem dangerous to him. Quite the opposite, actually. He thought about their reaction to being attacked by the vines, with how they let him do all the work to get them out of the situation. He didn’t view them as a fae he should be completely worried about, but he recognized that he didn’t really know. Maybe they were much more lethal and dangerous than he could have expected—perhaps they knew how to keep that part of them well-hidden, hidden enough that Daniel never guessed they could hurt a fly after their time in the tunnel.
He thought about what a regular human would think about what they said. He uncrossed his arms and placed his hands on his hips, and he looked down at the ground while shaking his head. “I guess, yeah,” he responded as he looked up at them. “That makes … I guess that makes sense. The vines was weird.” He ran a hand along his chin. Daniel liked Baz. He thought they were neat (and attractive)! But he only knew what he learned about fae from wardens which meant he steered clear of them the best he could. He recognized his hypocrisy—befriending two shapeshifters even though he was a ranger, but he knew shapeshifters. He understood them on a deeper level (hunting and killing them, of course), so he trusted his abilities to know if they turned dangerous. He did not have that level with fae though; he only knew to stay away from them. “Fine, I guess I … maybe believe you. But what does a fae do? Because right now you look like a human to me.”
—
They could count on one hand the number of times they’d had to explain anything remotely supernatural to a human. Jenny was the only case that really stood out, and she hardly counted. She’d known about the supernatural already, had had experiences with vampires and magic even if she hadn’t quite known how to define the latter. All Baz had done for her was explain a few missing links, tell her about the things she hadn’t heard quite yet. Daniel was different. Daniel didn’t seem to know anything, despite his experience with the vines and the birds. And while a blank canvas was usually the sort of thing Baz enjoyed, they were having a hard time figuring out what to do with this one. They liked Daniel, and the supernatural world could be… dangerous. Messy. Knowing just a little was often more dangerous than knowing too much.
“I don’t know what the vine was called,” they admitted, “but I’m certain it was something supernatural. Normal vines aren’t quite so sentient, are they?” They let out a little laugh, half nervous, half relieved. Daniel was catching on, but of course he’d have questions. Baz wasn’t sure how to answer all of them without scaring him off. And they didn’t want Daniel scared off! They liked hanging around him! They’d have loved hanging around him naked, but they thought that might be off the table now. (Could a human know what they were and still want to sleep with them? Anyone who’d ever known what Baz was and still welcomed them into that sort of dynamic was something inhuman themselves. This, they decided, was something to tuck away and never think of again.) “There are a lot of different sorts of fae,” they replied cautiously. “Some who’d be a lot more at home in these woods than I am.” Being a nymph would have been a bit easier right now; they could have shown Daniel something pretty to prove to him that they were being honest, and he might have accepted it. Instead, they were stuck with an uglier reality. “I’m what’s called a doppelganger. It means I can take on the appearance of other people. Not much use, really! More of a party trick than anything else, yeah?” They swallowed. “There’s other bits and bobs, too. Fae can’t lie without consequence. If I tried telling you a lie, it’d twist my stomach up in knots. All sorts of uncomfortable, really. I try to avoid it.” They preferred dancing around the truth. “And promises! If you promised me something, I could hold you to it. I’d offer a demonstration, but that can get messy. Can get people hurt. And I don’t want you hurt.” They paused again, offering him a small smile. “I don’t want you hurt. See how I can say that? No knots in my belly. Means it’s true, Daniel. I’m not human, but I’m no threat to you, okay? You don’t have to be scared of me.”
—
“No, yeah, vines ain’t usually like that,” Daniel agreed. He listened as they explained information that he mostly already knew, but he kept a sort of confused look on his face as he listened. At least Baz wasn’t trying to hide or deny anything. They couldn’t lie to him, which he had forgotten about until they mentioned how lies affect fae. He was grateful that he didn’t have to deal with not being able to lie—his entire life was built on lies! Sometimes he lied for fun, for absolutely no reason at all. But as he listened to Baz explain what they were, he knew that he really didn’t know anything about doppelgangers. The only thing he knew was what they told them. He only had them at their word that they could not lie and were not dangerous.
He stood in silence for a moment as they finished speaking. He looked down at the dead bird, and most of his thoughts were just about dragging the bird off the trail. Daniel knew that he should probably worry more about the fact that they just admitted to being a fae, but he really wanted to move the bird. “Right, okay,” he said, looking back up at Baz. “That all sounds nuts to me. Honestly. I guess I can believe the vines thing and this bird is strange. But … I mean, can you prove it? Like that you’re something else? Not human?” He already believed them, but he guessed that’s probably what a normal human would say. He also liked that it didn’t seem like they lied about not being dangerous. They didn’t have a physical reaction to the statement, so he hoped that was true.
—
They’d been hoping to avoid hard proof. Of course, they’d been hoping to avoid Daniel ever finding out about this sort of thing at all, because it was easier when people assumed you were human. Baz thought of the warden who had chased them when they first arrived in town, or of the Swedish man who had pinned them against a brick wall and bruised his knuckles against their face. Both were such a stark contrast from the way Daniel had protected them in the tunnels, or the way Talia had killed the reanimated parts for them. And the difference, in both cases, was the assumption of humanity. The warden knew Baz was not human; the man in the alley had known the same. Would Daniel or Talia have stepped in to help them if they had known, too, that Baz was not human? Were they still worth protecting if they were something else?
(They thought of their father, years ago, responding with a scoff when they’d begged him for the simple honor of a name they could call their own. Names are for people, he’d said, not bothering to look at them at all, and you are not that. Would Daniel think of them as a person, still? Even knowing that they weren’t human? Baz wasn’t sure they wanted an answer.)
“I can prove it,” they admitted, somewhat reluctantly. They could shed their face for another here in the middle of the woods. They didn’t want to, but they could. “I don’t… I’d rather not, but I can prove it. Here, or… or somewhere else, if you know of someplace where you’re sure we won’t be seen. It’s… It can be dangerous, Daniel. Being something that isn’t human, it can be dangerous. There are a lot of things that might not make sense about it to most people, and people are never kind to things they can’t make sense of. Do you understand?”
—
Baz acted nervous as they spoke about how they could prove it to Daniel. He thought things through in his head as he tried to decide what he should do at this point. He could keep pestering them to prove that they were what they said, but he already understood and believed them. Deciding that they were not a danger, as they said, he nodded his head. “Okay, Baz,” he said. “I believe you. You ain’t gotta prove nothing to me.” If he had to admit what he was to them, he would feel nervous and uncomfortable too. He understood how dangerous it was to admit to what you were. Even he struggled with telling other hunters that he met during a hunt what he was, because what if they weren’t also a hunter. He danced around his own identity all the time. If Baz was indeed not dangerous, then he was comfortable leaving it at that. He would also need to figure out more about doppelgangers, but perhaps not from them. He didn’t want to keep making them uncomfortable.
Wanting to end the conversation about Baz, Daniel nodded towards the carcass at his feet. “I guess I oughta move this off the trail. No one wants to find a giant dead bird on a hike.” He knew Baz wouldn’t touch it because of the iron, but also he assumed they wouldn’t want to move a dead animal in general. They didn’t seem the type. But he knew how to dispose of carcasses. He thought to himself that if either of the two were dangerous, it was him. He existed to kill. Removing his work gloves from his pocket, he slid them onto his hands and grabbed ahold of the bird’s legs. He dragged it through the dirt path and off the side of the trail. Glancing around the wooded area, Daniel dragged it close to a bush and then covered it with some fallen branches.
As he walked back to the trail, he tried to figure out what to think about Baz now. If he knew something about doppelgangers, maybe he would have a better idea of what to think or say. His lack of knowledge helped in this situation of acting like a confused human. He really didn’t know what to think or say. “Are you okay?” Daniel asked them, not sure of what else to say. “I guess if that bird wanted to eat you, I’ve technically saved your life twice now.” Part of him wanted to apologize for possibly stressing out Baz, but he wasn’t sure how to go about talking about that. He didn’t want to seem knowledgeable about the supernatural world. He worried that an apology would make him seem suspicious in some sort of weird roundabout way.
—
Relief swam over them all at once as Daniel spoke, a cool splash of water on a sweltering day. Baz would have given Daniel his proof if he’d insisted upon it, and there was something a little surprising about the realization. This idea that they liked Daniel enough to take even a small risk for him was a new thing, one they weren’t quite used to yet. For most of their life, the fact that no one else looked out for them meant that Baz looked out for themself first and foremost, never quite willing to take a risk for anyone else. It was scary, the way they weren’t sure when that had changed. Was it with Joel, after the first day they’d latched onto him? With Sebastian, sometime between him pulling them from the gutter and dying for them in the rain? Or had it been born within them when they’d arrived here, in Wicked’s Rest? This town, they were learning, was full of selfless people. Maybe it had infected them, to a certain extent.
“Okay,” they breathed, not bothering to hide their relief. Perhaps Daniel’s willingness to let Baz off the hook as far as proof went was a selfless thing, too. Perhaps he had also been infected by this town, by whatever it had in the water that forced you to care about people, even if only a little. It was a small sacrifice, just as the proof Baz was offering to a secret already revealed would have been, but it still felt nice in the moment. They were not human, and Daniel trusted them all the same. They were not human, and they were still worth this small sacrifice. Maybe they’d be worth a larger one someday, too. (And if they weren’t, they hoped they’d never have to find out. They’d rather not know at all where knowing was a thing that hurt.)
Baz nodded as Daniel insisted that they ought to hide the body, though they weren’t really sure why. To Baz, it mattered very little if the dead bird stayed in full sight of the hiking trail, but they wouldn’t argue. Not when they were still riding the small high that came with the relief of knowing they would neither be judged nor forced to shed their face for another in the relative public setting of the trail. They watched Daniel work without offering to help all the same, though; the thought of offering a hand didn’t even cross their mind. When he came back to them, they offered a small smile. Something in them tightened as he asked after them, and they added it to the imagined column of moments that proved they were worth something to someone, even without humanity to use as a shield. “I’m all right,” they assured him. The easy grin found its way back to their features and they nodded again. “You’re a right superhero,” they said. “You certainly have the build for it. Could buy you a cape, if you’d like. I think you’d fill it out wonderfully.” They paused for a moment. “Uh… Are you all right? I know it’s… a bit to take in.” He seemed to be taking it in stride; maybe Baz was better at this sort of thing than they thought.
—
Daniel still wasn’t sure what he was thinking in the moment. Part of him of course felt some weird sort of concern for Baz having to admit everything about themself, especially as he got to keep his own identity a secret. But he also wasn’t entirely sure what to do with this information or how to treat them moving forward. He wasn’t really wanting to befriend a fae, let alone whatever a doppelganger was. Even as he checked in on their wellbeing, part of him didn’t really want to know. Didn’t need any of that information. He wanted to finish up this situation and move on to something else so he could think about that instead.
“Okay, good,” he replied with a quick nod of his head. “I ain’t know about no cape. Think it’d get in my way.” Daniel meant it as a joke, but his words came across as more monotone than deadpan. He looked over Baz and glanced away towards the trees. He let out a deep sigh and shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah, it’s a lot.” It was a lot, so he was relieved that he could at least be honest about that. “I’ll just … I guess I could believe all this for now.” He ran a head along the back of his neck as he looked down at his boots. “Anyway, I don’t know if you’re still in the mood to keep on with this hike or …” He trailed off to let them make the decision. He was perfectly content to get out of here and think about if he ever wanted to interact with Baz again.
—
Was it desperation or denial that allowed Baz to ignore the shift in Daniel’s tone? Normally, they’d have picked up on it in a heartbeat. They were decent at reading people by necessity, both as someone who’d spent years impersonating people as needed and as someone who’d grown up in a volatile environment with a violent patriarch. You needed to be able to pick up on tonal shifts to know when someone was beginning to suspect that the face you were wearing was borrowed; you needed the same ability in order to know when your father might take a swing at you so you could dodge accordingly. There was no reason why Baz shouldn’t have picked up on the fact that Daniel wasn’t quite as invested in their well-being as he had been before, but they clung to whatever wall they’d built between themself and the truth all the same. Daniel was their friend, and it did not matter that their humanity was a ruse. They told themself this earnestly within the privacy of their own mind until it felt believable.
“Suppose it’d get a bit annoying after a while,” they agreed with a quiet hum, still trying to picture Daniel in a full superhero outfit. “You’d certainly look dashing, though.” Maybe they ought to be checking in a bit more thoroughly, though, making sure Daniel’s brain hadn’t been broken by the truth. “I could show you the ropes,” they offered, a little uncertain. “Let you know what all’s out there. Can’t say I know much about all of it, but I know enough to get by. And it can be dangerous, living in a world you don’t know much about, yeah? I’d like to make sure you’re safe, and all that.” They meant that, though they knew they could hardly offer to protect Daniel the same way he’d protected them. Baz wasn’t much of a fighter; they let other people handle that sort of thing. Their eyes darted to the dead bird at Daniel’s last question, and they pressed their tongue against the roof of their mouth and pursed their lips. “Think the mood’s been ruined, don’t you?”
—
“Thanks. I probably would,” Daniel agreed with a nod. He stretched out his neck and rolled his shoulders, trying to bring himself back into the moment before he knew all of this information. He wanted to try to act the same as before. He never really knew what to do around fae and undead, so he attempted to go back to when he thought Baz was just a normal, regular human. He grinned at them and shrugged playfully. “Maybe a superhero outfit without the cape. I think it was The Incredibles that had that whole bit about capes being killer to superheroes? Don’t think I need all that.”
At the suggestion of Baz showing him the ropes of the supernatural, Daniel kept his face as neutral as possible. He wondered how much they knew about all the different types of creatures and beasts that existed, and part of him wanted to know if he knew more than a fae. “Ah, maybe over a chai sometime?” he suggested. “Think you’re supposed to make me that. Get me to … try new things.” He didn’t know if he really wanted to do that with Baz anymore, but maybe it would be a good idea. Perhaps a way to learn more about what they knew and how their abilities worked. Somewhere that wasn’t a public hiking trail. The idea of being alone with a fae though sort of worried him, but he could bring along some iron to keep himself protected just in case something happened. “Is there a whole lot else besides fae that I gotta worry about?” Daniel nodded in agreement at their comment. The mood had been ruined for quite a few reasons, and honestly, it wasn’t the dead bird for him. “Yeah, that it has,” he answered. “Let’s head back to the parking lot, yeah?” He grinned and laughed lightly. “Hate to think all this keeps ruining nature for you. First the vines and now the bird.”
—
“Oh, I do remember that one!” Baz sounded a little delighted at that. “I’ve always had a soft spot for the animated films — neat to see the different sorts of art styles in te medium, innit? Some of them are a bit mundane, but every now and then you’ve one that pops off.” They were so relieved that Daniel didn’t appear to hate them now that it was easy to fall back into who they’d always been: someone who always talked a little too much. “I think you’d look just as fine without the cape, though. So long as it’s tight enough to show off your abs, yeah? Gotta display your best assets.”
The fact that Daniel still wanted that chai — and for Baz to make it for him — was another sweeping relief. Maybe it was possible, then, for even the most uninformed members of humanity to continue liking Baz even after they’d learned that there was something… inhuman about them. They’d assumed Jenny was a rare exception to the rule, but maybe that wasn’t the case at all. (Should they start telling people they weren’t human to test it? No, right? Probably no.) “Oh, there’s all sorts of things out there. Can’t pretend to be an expert at most of them, but I know the basics. Vampires, werewolves. Whole cast of the Vampire Diaries, really.” Explaining their world through human media had helped Jenny wrap her head around things a little easier, and maybe it would help Daniel, too. (Maybe he was secretly a huge True Blood fan. That’d be fun to learn, wouldn’t it?) “Nature was never going to be my favorite thing,” Baz admitted with a shrug. “Guess I’m not nature’s favorite thing, either. This sort of thing doesn’t happen to you when you’re out and about with other people?”
—
“Ah, yeah, it’s fun to see the different styles. Didn’t watch too many animated movies growing up, but I liked that one.” Daniel really didn’t pay much attention to animation styles. He never thought too hard about art or any of those types of things. He sometimes enjoyed photography as an artistic medium, but he was not any sort of person to pick up on key differences of how animators drew. “Oh, of course. Gotta make sure that my abs and biceps are on full display for everyone.” Part of him almost joked about how at least the superhero costume would keep his scars hidden from view while still showing off his muscles. But he kept that one to himself. Plus, he still found it a bit odd that Baz didn’t have any questions about his handgun. He preferred it that way, of course, as he didn’t want to talk about that whole situation. But they seemed rather trusting of him.
He nodded along as they explained some of the things they knew. “See, if it wasn’t for that bird, I’d really think you was pulling my leg,” Daniel commented. “But, okay, vampires, werewolves … Are there witches too? Never really watched that show but—but I heard about it.” He shrugged his shoulders. “All them supernatural type shows never caught my eye. Maybe they should have.” Whenever he watched any type of show or movie with supernatural creatures, Daniel found himself rolling his eyes at how wrong it all was. Sometimes things seemed a little too correct, as if someone in the production knew what they were doing, but usually he found everything obnoxious to watch. “That’s too bad, but I get it. Ain’t for everyone,” he said. “No, no, cain’t say I’ve ever experienced anything like that. It was … odd. I don’t,” he frowned for a moment, “I don’t know.” He wasn’t really lying to Baz right then. As far as he knew, he had never defended a fae from a beast before them, and he really didn’t know what to think about it all.
—
“I always liked to see what different people could do with it. And how the animation serves the story, too, of course. In the perfect animated movie, the style is informed by the narrative.” They could have gone on about for ages, could have talked Daniel’s ear off about how fascinating they found the idea of using the way a story looked to benefit how it was told. Maybe it was no real surprise that Baz was fascinated by that particular aspect of animation; after all, they were someone whose appearance was chosen based on their surroundings and experiences, too. Even more so now that they used Sebastian’s face as ‘theirs.’ “It would be a disservice to hide them,” they agreed, letting their eyes linger on Daniel’s abs and biceps in turn in a way that was very intentionally not subtle.
Seeing really was believing, for most people. Baz didn’t know how someone could even begin to explain the supernatural to someone who’d never seen any of it, and they weren’t the sort who’d ever try to do so if only because they were far too lazy to try. Maybe it was a good thing that Daniel knew now, that he’d seen for himself. Maybe it was a bad one. That probably stood to be seen. “Oh!” Baz nodded. “Yeah, witches. Think they prefer to be called ‘spellcasters,’ though. Don’t know much about their sort of magic, if I’m being honest. But they’re human. Just… human with a bit of a kick to them, I suppose.” They hummed, shrugging a shoulder. “I’ve a friend who’s into a few of the shows. I’ve seen some of them, but they tend to be a bit inaccurate. Not the sort of thing to base your beliefs on. Fun to watch with a bit more knowledge, though!” It was entertaining, sometimes, seeing just how much humans got wrong about the world they were a part of. “You seem to suit it well,” they offered, because Daniel did seem very at home in the woods. Even without knowing what he was fighting, he’d found a way to take down the bird before anyone got hurt. That was an accomplishment. “Well, I suppose I’m happy enough to be your first time, then.” They winked. “And… happy that no one got hurt.”
—
Listening to Baz talk kept Daniel from thinking too hard about the whole fae thing. It was easier to listen to them go on about animated movies, and he enjoyed the distraction from his mind. “Ain’t thought that much about it myself,” he commented. “You know a lot about animation? Or, uh, do you got a lot to do with animation or art?” He wanted them to keep talking, to keep saying whatever they wanted about whatever topic. He could find a way to ask his stupid questions while they chatted. But then their eyes scanned over his muscular build, and he forced a flirty grin in return. Just earlier they joked about bondage—just earlier he almost chose to just have sex rather than confirm they were a fae. Yet now he wasn’t as certain about all that. Maybe once he figured out more about doppelgangers he’d come back around to the whole knot-tying idea. Maybe some chai could change his mind.
“Spellcasters, okay,” he said with a nod. “At least now I know that I oughtn’t call them a witch, if I run into one of them next.” They continued talking, and he listened to each word they said, focusing his attention on them rather than letting his mind wander elsewhere. He watched the expressions on their face as they spoke, letting himself keep his eyes distracted too. “Good to know though. Probably ain’t gonna do much watching of them though. But if I do, I’ll know it’s all nonsense.” Daniel walked along the familiar trail and grinned at their next comment. “Thanks, yeah.” He almost commented something about how crazy it was that he never encountered anything strange before then, but he guessed that maybe that’s what led Wyatt to figuring him out. He would keep his mouth shut for the most part now. “Thanks, great first time,” he laughed. “Glad we both made it out safe.”
—
They shrugged in response to the question, looking a little thoughtful. “I don’t have much experience actually animating things,” they admitted. “Not really my area, you know? But I know about the styles. I’ve read up on it a bit, I suppose. I like… learning about things like that, even if it’s not the type of knowledge I utilize. I guess I just like knowing things.” They flashed a grin at that. It was only true in regards to art, really; Baz wanted to know everything there was to know about art, about which they were passionate. But other things? Hard truths that would hurt, or things that would prove worldviews they’d adopted as their own to be wrong? Baz didn’t want to know anything at all about that sort of thing. There were some situations where ignorance really was bliss. Having all the information was more of a hindrance than a help, in their experience. For example, they could easily ignore the way Daniel dropped the subject of their flirtation, could easily pretend it was simply because the topic of animation interested him far more than the other. It meant not acknowledging that Daniel had seemed interested when he thought them human, but not as interested now. Baz was a big fan of ignorance, really.
“Some of them might be fine with it,” they replied with a shrug. “I don’t know any, so I’ve no one I can ask. Oh, but you definitely can’t go round calling fae fairies. I know for certain that that one’s a no-go.” Baz themself disliked the term, though not to the same extent many fae did. They’d known a nymph just outside London who’d take it upon herself to kill anyone who referred to her as a fairy. Bit extreme, in Baz’s opinion, but who were they to judge? “Yeah, not what I’d recommend for research. Don’t know what you could use for research, really. I think experience is your best bet. Just… careful experience. Don’t want you running off and getting yourself eaten, yeah?” Or winding up in a hunter’s crosshairs. Or getting stuck in a fae deal. Or… the possibilities were a bit endless. Humans were fragile things. Baz had never worried much about it before, but they were a little worried now. Baz offered Daniel a grin, nodding their head. “Yeah,” they agreed, “me, too. Now, what do you say we get out of here, yeah? Before that bird starts to smell.”
—
“Fae, not fairies. Got it,” Daniel replied. Easy to keep track of when he already knew that. “So you’re fae but also a doppelganger.” He needed to do more research on doppelgangers to fully understand what they were. Baz’s description helped him a little bit, but they approached the conversation as if he was learning about supernatural for the first time ever. He guessed that he could ask Eve or inquire around with some wardens at the 3 Daggers. From there he could figure out what to think about Baz—not fully knowing left a bad taste in his mouth.
Daniel chuckled and nodded his head. “Getting myself eaten? Oy vey. Already gotta beware of hungry bears, so I’ll add ‘weird birds and the like’ to my list.” Baz was also now on his list of creatures to watch out for in Wicked’s Rest. He wasn’t going to hunt them, obviously (he’s not a warden), but maybe he’d keep tabs for any sort of suspicious behavior. See what all he could learn about them. But he still didn’t understand why he protected them from the stymphalian bird, why he didn’t step aside to let the bird have a go at them. For years now, he struggled with the whole killing aspect of his life. Even killing the bird almost felt wrong to him. He didn’t like thinking about those feelings around killing though. They brought up memories of death that he preferred to push aside in his head, to pretend that those memories didn’t exist. With his memories trapped in the corners of his mind, he wouldn’t have to think about why he didn’t let the bird eat Baz or why he fired into the air to scare it off instead of simply shooting it first.
“Yeah, let’s get outta here,” Daniel agreed. He wiped his hands off on his pants, even though he wore his gloves to move the bird, but he still felt like he needed to clean his hands after that whole experience.
PARTIES: @danielabrams; @appalachiannightmare
TIMING: Early September
LOCATION: The Pines & Lupine Holler
SUMMARY: Hazel leads Daniel to her cabin for a homecooked meal.
WARNINGS: Sibling death tw
Daniel glanced at his watch to check the time. He arranged to meet up with Hazel at Wicked’s Rest State Park, but he arrived earlier than planned. He always seemed to get places too early. He sat on a bench outside the visitor’s center, and he crossed his left leg over his right. He placed the two jars of blackberry jam on the bench next to him, hoping that would signal to her that yes, this is the correct stranger to approach. He figured not many other people would be sitting around with jams. He also brought his book with him, just in case he needed to kill some time.
Leaning his head back, he looked up at the sky and watched as the clouds slowly traveled above him. He listened to birds singing in the trees all throughout the area. He closed his eyes for a few moments, just enjoying the sounds around him and the cool breeze brushing against his skin. After a few minutes, he opened his eyes, saw new clouds above him, and leaned his head forward. He stretched out his neck and looked around to see if anyone was heading in his direction. This was one of those moments where he regretted not having a smartphone because he couldn’t exactly go online to tell someone where he was. He already warned Hazel of this though.
Deciding he ought to kill a bit of time, Daniel picked up his book to get maybe a few pages read. He marked his place with the receipt from the library, and he read while he waited. After a few minutes, he heard what sounded like footsteps coming in his general direction. And he sensed something else too. Something that felt familiar. He looked up from his book and saw the woman walking towards him. His heartbeat accelerated and his stomach dropped as he realized why her profile picture looked vaguely familiar to him. She looked different now, of course. Less bloody.
He placed his book down on the bench, uncrossed his legs, and stood up to greet her. “Hey, Hazel?” Daniel greeted, keeping a friendly smile on his face, focusing on keeping his composure. “Sorry if I was maybe difficult to find.” He motioned his hands back towards the jars on the bench. “I, uh, yeah, brought the blackberry jam. Tried some earlier this morning, and I think it’s real good.”
—-
It was strange. A feeling Hazel couldn’t put her finger on, but talking to Daniel online had been instantaneous and natural. It was as if two forces were pulling them together, and he immediately felt like an old friend. It’s why she had no problem inviting him over for a home cooked meal in exchange for some fresh blackberry jam, despite how secretive she usually was with the location of where she lived. But the more time she had spent in Wicked’s Rest, the more she was finding it easier and easier to invite people over – though most visits had been out of need thanks to the unicorn that had attacked her and drove its horn through her devil’s stomach.
As she made her way up a tree lined dirt path that led her directly where she needed to go to meet her new friend, she took in the scents of nature, and for what seemed like one of the first times since losing her devil, had been able to enjoy it without an underlying worry that the creature may come out upon the sound of something in distress or at the smell of blood, “Well devil, I think this might be the first time I’ve truly been able to enjoy myself since you decided to go into hiding. I miss you somethin’ mighty fierce, but if this is how you want to do me, when you got us in that unicorn mess in the first place, then that’s your own fault.” The mixed emotions Hazel had been feeling for her devil had easily felt like the 7 stages of grief, and though acceptance had come in little ways previously to this moment, this had been the first big realization of it.
Coming from out of the treeline, Hazel scanned the area, locking eyes on a man sitting on a bench alone, “That’s gotta be him, devil.” The last time she had done this, she had first set eyes on Cairn and didn’t know what to expect with the visit. It had felt much like this time around, only the last time, she had found her heart pounding out of her chest by the end of their encounter leaving Hazel’s mind to constantly think about the other person, especially after the close moment in the tents.
“Daniel? Hey! You weren’t difficult to find at all. I just hope you’re ready for a bit of a hike. I kinda live off the beaten path.” A warm smile gracing her face, she looked at the blackberry jam, “It looks delicious! I can’t wait to try some on a hot biscuit.” She leaned forward and gave him a soft hug, “Sorry, it just came naturally. It’s like havin’ family here, you know? Us both growin’ up in Appalachia and all.”
—
“I hike all the time, so that ain’t a problem,” Daniel responded. When he watched Hazel lean towards him, his heart sped up again while his mind screamed to stay away from her. He returned the friendly hug, convincing his arms that they should wrap around her. He hated feeling her so close to him, even if it was only for a moment. Get it together!!, his mind screamed. He couldn’t ruin everything in the first few minutes—especially because it was all coming together so perfectly for him.
“No reason to be sorry,” Daniel smiled as he pulled away from the hug. “I’m sure it ain’t often that you meet someone from our neck of the woods this far north.” That sickened him too. He enjoyed chatting with her online. He thought that he would meet someone that could make him feel sort of normal again. He spent so many years disconnected from his home, and he really thought that it would feel so good to meet someone who seemingly understood that.
Instead he somehow managed to hug his sister’s killer. His mind raced through so many thoughts, with the major question: did she recognize him too? He was glad that he always carried his weapons on his person and had some hidden in his truck. Just in case she recognized him from that night or if she turned at any moment.
Every part of Daniel wanted to cut to the chase, let’s go to your home right now so I know where you live and it’ll make my hunting so much easier, but he knew the best way to make this work would be to act as pleasant and normal as possible. Let her offer to leave so he didn’t seem weird about wanting to go back to her place. He wasn’t as chatty as when he was younger, so he needed to tap into his past personality. “Hopefully you’ll enjoy the jam,” he said with a smile. “You know, I was a-thinking about fixing apple butter in a month or two. I heard from someone that the apple butter situation around here ain’t all that great.” He laughed and shook his head. “If the jam is up to your standards, I could set aside a jar or two of apple butter for you. That way you can have some good apple butter. Not whatever is allegedly around here.”
—
The connection was instantaneous. Hazel felt as if they were old friends reconnecting for the first time in years. She had only had that experience with one other person since coming here, and that was Henri, but she couldn’t quite figure out why. That feeling lingered with Daniel too, but instead of putting too much thought into it, she focused on the fact that he was a refreshing bit of home in a strange place she was still learning to live in. She would take that any damn day of the week, over feeling homesick; which had all been more than a regular occurrence for herself, “Honestly, it’s not. There’s a few people around here that remind me of home. But you’re probably the closest one.” Her mind shot back to Cairn, but that felt different. That felt like someone she wanted to snuggle up close to on a cold night while snow gently fell on the roof of the cabin. Cairn felt safe and warm, even though Hazel was still having a hard time admitting that to herself.
Hazel stepped back putting a bit of distance between them both, “I’m sure I’ll love the jam. And if you’re offerin’ up apple butter, I’ll definitely take some of that too.” How had she been so lucky to find someone who offered up delicious sweets from home. Sure, there had been Ms. Betty, but if Hazel was being completely honest, Ms. Betty was easily starting to wear out her welcome. The woman had been a Godsend after the unicorn incident, but it was like she was obsessively checking in on Hazel now. Like a hovering mother that wouldn’t let her daughter live her own life; and the berserker (who currently couldn’t berserk) was the farthest thing from being offspring material.
Seeing the jars sitting on the bench, she reached out and grabbed them, excited to taste the sweet contents after dinner, “I hope you don’t mind if we start back.” Hazel nodded as she held the jam in her hand, “I’ve got some stuff simmerin’ on the stove, and I didn’t want to leave it for too long.” And with a warm smile in Daniel’s direction, she began a slow walk back from where she came from hoping he’d follow.
—
“Of course. I’ll save a jar for you then,” he smiled. Daniel couldn’t deny that his idea to give away free jam benefitted him in an unexpected way. The weird and repetitive conversations about jam drove him a little cuckoo, but they felt worth it now because it led him to Hazel. He finally had a name for her. For years he’d only known her as a berserker and referred to her as her. Her wolf form and her human face plagued his mind, but now if she escaped him again, he had a new lead in his stalking.
“Lead the way.” Daniel followed after her and settled in pace with her. “Don’t want anything getting all burnt. That’d be heartbreaking.” He followed her along the path, making mental notes of every step that they took. He locked away unique landmarks into his memory: trees, rock formations, and whatever else he spotted. The dirt path helped, of course, but he memorized each step. He wanted to know this path as well as he knew the path to his family’s home.
Daniel calculated his every movement to act as human as possible. Fallen leaves crunched under his dusty hiking boots as he let his feet fall heavily on the ground, letting the vibrations and sounds resound along their path. He spent so much of his early life around humans that he knew how they walked without a care about anything hearing them. His old high school hunting buddies (not hunters of the supernatural) thought they walked silently when they were deer or turkey hunting, but Daniel heard their loud footsteps. His mother trained him to move in silence, but he trained himself how to move like his human friends. He mimicked them when he stalked shapeshifters in public, using their human mannerisms to act like any other human.
“This your walk every day?” he inquired. “It’s beautiful.” Daniel wasn’t lying about that. He could spend every moment of his life in the woods, which he practically did anyway. He ventured deeper into wilderness areas to find new places to experience nature. He held a deep love of nature while still recognizing the dangers that lurked in the brush. “I’ve spent so much time exploring the area but don’t think I’ve wandered around this part. Usually further northwest.”
—
“I appreciate your southern hospitality in a place that’s anything but southern.” Hazel looked back at Daniel and smiled as she began her trek back home. She had walked this path many times, but usually stayed away from the more public areas out of fear of someone following her back to her cabin. Her life had become one of privacy for so long, that there had been some days, at least when she still had her devil intact, that she felt more animal than human, despite being raised more human than animal. But it was still something she couldn’t wrap her head around, no matter how many conversations she had with other people since coming here.
Being a wolf made no sense. She was never bitten. And what point had it been established that she had been possessed. Her growing temper and anger had felt like a normal part of her as a teenager, but to know that her family saw it as something more sinister – her as something more sinister, was what broke her the most. Hazel had always been Hazel, at least in her mind, but there were still so many untapped parts of her mind, and maybe that’s why she couldn’t see herself as truly evil. Just going off of hearsay and waking up to the things her devil had done.
“It would be heartbreakin’. I’ve spent all mornin’ on this tryin’ to make it special.” She laughed as fallen leaves crunched under her footsteps, “Well not everyday. I do go to town a lot. Got my bike for that. Thank goodness for saddlebags though cause haulin’ groceries back home on a motorcycle ain’t the easiest task. Been tryin’ to save up for a used truck just to get me from here and there out of the rain, you know? Nothin’ too fancy.” She looked up towards the sky watching as a flock of birds quickly flew past them overhead after being startled by something, “I do like to explore the forest a lot though. You been to Lisey’s Peak before? It’s a bit of a hike, but it’s mighty pretty out that way.”
—
“All morning? Speaking of southern hospitality, you’ve got plenty of your own.” Daniel placed his hand over his heart as he looked over at her. “And I appreciate that. I feel a bit bad that I’m showing up with only jam while you’ve done all the food fixing. Hope I ain’t put you out too much.” He allowed himself to chat with Hazel as if she were an old friend of his. Their conversation flowed smoothly online, and he knew he could keep up his charade with her by letting their chats go as normal.
“Ah, a motorcycle? Yeah, I’d say. I’d hate to bring groceries all the way out here with only a motorcycle.” He ducked his head low to avoid a low hanging tree branch. “If you’re ever looking for a truck, I know a bit about trucks. I ain’t a mechanic by no means. But I’ve got me a real old truck. Had to learn my way around it so I can’t keep it fixed without needing to take it to no shop.” Daniel’s offer acted as a genuine one—he enjoyed helping others to the best of his abilities. His hunter philosophy to always protect people first blended into his non-hunting life with how he couldn’t not offer help or advice. Of course, he hoped his offer could act as another way to make Hazel feel comfortable around him. He also needed more time with her. Even though he instantly recognized her, he needed to confirm her identity. He couldn’t allow himself to make a mistake and go after the wrong shapeshifter.
“I’ve been a bit out that way, but not too often.” He only went out that direction once, but his body felt like it was on fire from the sheer amount of shapeshifters that he sensed. Daniel didn’t want to do too much roaming around the peak by himself. He’d convinced his employer to let him not lead hikes around that specific mountain. When he went on his own solo hikes and adventures through the state park, he did his best to avoid certain areas that he sensed were hotbeds for shifters. “I do love to adventure for myself, but a lot of the time it’s all for work. People love to go to Chattering Peak, so I’ve spent so much time around that mountain.”
—
Hazel blushed at Daniel’s compliment. It meant a lot. As much as she had wanted to flee her home state of Tennessee, she also wanted nothing more than to be back in it. Be at least somewhat closer to her family, even if they did hate her, “You sayin’ that means so much. And it ain’t no bother. Honest. I’m just happy to have someone to cook for. Hadn’t gotten that opportunity much since bein’ here and all.” See devil? This is how you make conversation without tryin’ to rip somebody’s head off. Not all people are a threat.
Moving forward, Hazel noticed a deer up ahead with its head low as it gnawed on grass. She tried to be quiet and respect its space as they walked, but one thing she did notice was that the animal didn’t immediately take off like they had in the past when she came around. Even most dogs she had encountered lately didn’t automatically take to growling at her. It had mostly been a normal occurrence, but again, the taste of true normalcy she was feeling had been like a miracle. And though she knew it would never make up for the lives her devil had taken, it was giving her an opportunity to live in peace again, and she couldn’t ignore that fact.
“Yeah, it’s okay when it’s dry food, but when it’s somethin’ cold like milk or eggs, ain’t no makin’ pitstops on the way home. That’s for darn skippy.” When the deer finally did make its grand escape, the young woman put her focus back on Daniel, “I love it out here. Anyways, if you can help me find a truck for cheap, I’d be ever so grateful. And I’m pretty handy with fixin’ things. Feels like I’m constantly fixin’ somethin’ on my motorbike.” She laughed. “Price you pay livin’ out on your own without your daddy or brothers around I guess.” She had gotten used to it, but having someone that knew their way around things would also be nice to have in her life again.
“Oh, I haven’t been up there before. Might have to check it out sometime. I’d ask if you want to go with me, but if this is your job…bein’ out in the woods all the time, I could see how you’d want to just take some time to relax. Sounds like you get plenty a time spent in nature.” Even Hazel tired of being outside as much as she loved to hear the crickets chirp, listen to the rain fall, or enjoy the sun beaming down on her face, sometimes it was nice just being out of the elements left to her own devices with a good book or her sketch pad and music.
—
He saw how his words caused Hazel to blush. In any other situation, Daniel would’ve taken some joy out of that, but it gave him a sick thrill instead. He wanted her to trust him more and more, allow him to become close enough to her to learn everything he needed. “I get that. It’s been the same for me for a while. I love fixing meals for friends and family, but ain’t done that in …,” he trailed off as he mulled over the years, “a while.” He wouldn’t offer to cook for her just yet—maybe further in the future—as he needed to figure out his plan. He also couldn’t invite her over to his place as he didn’t want her to know where he lived. At least, not yet. He needed to better prepare his camper or find a hunting cabin for the winter, somewhere with actual walls that could keep her out.
Daniel heard the deer eating before he saw it. His eyes focused on the significant landmarks and on Hazel that he didn’t care much about the animals moving through the woods. He could track and watch deer any other day. He watched as it leaped away from them as they walked closer. “I understand why you love it. Can watch wildlife all day and night. I’m out in the Pines myself. Got a small place I’m living.” Small was one way to describe a camper. “Sure, I can keep my eyes out for a cheap truck. I can look it over too, make sure there ain’t much wrong with it. Although,” Daniel chuckled, “I don’t care much about issues with vehicles. My truck ain’t got working AC. I ain’t bothered to fix it for years because I drive with the windows down anyway.”
He wanted to ask more about her family situation but held off for the moment. After the attack, he researched berserkers to learn as much as he could about them. He never encountered one before Hazel. Never knew much about them either. But after spending years obsessively learning everything he could, Daniel couldn’t figure out why she left her family and bounced across the states seemingly on her own. (He also knew from his research that he walked a very dangerous line at the moment—being alone with a berserker. He needed to play nice and friendly to not enrage her. He also needed to formulate a plan).
He decided to keep the question about her family in his backpocket for the future.
Daniel shook his head while grinning. “No, no, I love being outside. I go on hikes by myself all the time. Just assume that if I ain’t working, I’m out hiking on my lonesome.” He hated feeling trapped indoors which is why he knew he could never do certain types of jobs. When he worked on a fishing boat for a couple months, he hated that he couldn’t spend as much time in the forests. Working on the rocking boat and tasting the salty sea air acted as a nice change of work, but he could never do it again. He needed to feel close to the woods. “But if you’re trying to get out more, I ain’t gonna say no to hiking with someone else. It can be nice to have the company of a friend rather than strange tourists.”
—
“Well, if I don’t scare you off with my cookin’, maybe you can cook for me sometime?” Hazel laughed softly. She liked to consider herself a good cook. She had learned from the best after all – her momma and her granny. There was nothing better than sharing a good home cooked meal with those you cared about, and she could see herself starting to care for Daniel, “You know, you kinda remind me of my oldest brother. He loved the outdoors. Campin’, hikin’, huntin’, fishin’. I think you both would get along great.” Maybe I can introduce you two someday…The words hung in her throat. Would she ever see him or any of her siblings again? If the universe had put Daniel in her life as a kind of sibling, she’d gladly take it. She missed having her brothers and sisters around more than anything, and most days, that had been a great source of loneliness for her. “You got any brothers or sisters?”
As Hazel inched closer to her cabin, she kept her eyes out for Siobhan and her tents. The last thing she had wanted was for that old woods hag to come out and ruin the day, and though the thought pulled her from her conversation with Daniel, she just as easily slipped back into it at the mention of a truck, “Oh, it’s alright if it ain’t got AC. If it runs and gets me to where I need to go, that’s all I really care about.” She didn’t need anything fancy. Even back in high school, she was never one to need the latest and greatest phone or clothes. Hazel had always just been Hazel, and that had been further put to the test after she had left home and started navigating the world on her own.
“I’m always tryin’ to get out more. So I can definitely be that friend. I won’t ask you a bunch of questions either. I mean maybe about butterflies cause I do love seein’ butterflies, but other than that, it can be as peaceful a walk or as talkative a walk as you want.” Seeing the cabin just beyond the trees, she had managed to avoid the random tents in the woods. And with a quick glance back to Daniel, she smiled, “Welcome to Lupine Holler.” As she pushed through the brush, her cabin along with a small dock and jon boat was revealed. Moss hung down from the trees and just around the corner was a garden and on the other side of the house sat her motorcycle, a small shed she had been building, and the lawnmower Metzli had given her that she had hoped to get to use more of next summer.
—
“I’ll have to try your food before I make any promises,” he joked. Daniel avoided answering ‘yes’ to her. He would probably say yes in another situation, but he held off for now. He needed to figure out a few things (many things) before agreeing to cooking. He would do it if needed, but cooking felt intimate in a way to him. Sure, he cooked for strangers for work, but in his own freetime, he felt different about it.
Daniel raised an eyebrow at her comparing him to her brother. He kept his face friendly though, but the comment caused his mind to wander. “Thanks,” he nodded. “If he loves all those things, I’m sure we would get along great. Fishing is something I ain’t done as much of here lately, but I’ve always loved it.” She spoke about her older brother as if he were still alive, which in Daniel’s mind, meant that he needed to tread carefully. He knew well how protective older brothers could be about their little sisters, and he didn’t want a berserker coming after him.
At her question, he considered lying and saying that he didn’t have any siblings. But he knew how word spread through small towns, and if she ever saw him mention his sister somewhere publicly or someone mentioned to her that he had a sister, that could come to bite him. “Ah, yeah,” he said, looking away from her, staring up at the sky. His heart beat a little faster. His mouth turned dry. “I had a younger sister.” Daniel refused to look at Hazel as they walked. He kept his eyes up at the sky, watching the clouds. He heard her comment something about how she’d be fine with a truck that had a few minor issues, and he nodded his head. “I’ll keep that in mind.” His eyes refused to look over at her. He couldn’t handle seeing her face and needed to recenter himself before he did something regrettable.
Daniel smiled softly. “Butterflies are lovely,” he commented. He hadn’t thought about butterflies in years. He’d see them but ignore them. Maya always loved butterflies, even had multiple tattoos of them. He kept the gentle smile on his face even as he felt a sickening feeling in his stomach at how human Hazel acted. “You could ask questions. Chat about whatever. I don’t mind.” With her welcome to Lupine Holler, Daniel stopped the laughter that threatened to burst out of him. Of fucking course she named it that. What other confirmation could he need that she was exactly who he thought she was? But he still knew better. He couldn’t disappoint his mother (even more) by killing an innocent shapeshifter, so he needed to continue investigating Hazel. “It’s a gorgeous spot,” Daniel said, noticing how tranquil it felt. “I like the name, especially holler. Unsurprisingly, I grew up in a holler myself.”
—
There had been the slightest bit of worry that Daniel might judge Hazel for the way she had kept off the grid and lived in a cabin deep in the woods, but just like the rest of their conversation, he had been kind. Something she had deeply appreciated.
It had been strange letting someone she had only really just met into her life like this. With other people, it had taken more time. But there was a certain kinship and even familiarity she had felt with his presence. Like they had met before. Hazel couldn’t quite understand it. Why she had felt so close to a stranger. Sort of like how she felt with Henri. But with Henri, she still kept him at a bit of a distance, not yet inviting him completely into her life, “Thank ya. I stumbled upon it when I first got here a year or so ago. It was empty, but it felt right. Felt like home.”
She moved to the porch and slowly started up the steps pulling back the screen door. There had only been a select number of people she had allowed into her home. In fact, she could count the number of people on one hand, and though her heart was pounding pretty fiercely, Hazel ignored the butterflies in her stomach and invited Daniel in, “C’mon. Foods ‘bout done cookin’. You can help me set the table.” And with that, Hazel crossed the threshold allowing someone else into her sanctuary hoping that she could add them to a small growing list of people she was starting to consider family.