@magmahearts replied to your post “[pm] Hi Wynne. I'm sorry I left you on read. I...”:
[pm] It's okay. You don't have to apologize either. I'm okay. You don't have to bring anything. Alex and her cousin are making sure I have everything I need, I just [...] want to see you. And Aria, and everyone. [del: I thought I was going to die. I thought I was going to die, and I wouldn't have gotten to see any of you again and] I'm sorry I worried you guys.
[pm] I'm glad they're taking care of you. I'll come over very soon, okay? I will still bring you something nice to eat. I want to see you as well. Don't apologize. I'm just glad to be talking to you now. I love you okay?
[pm] Oh, are you talking to me agai Is this because Alex lef Do you even
Hey. I've been [...] kind of shitty, honestly. How about you?
[pm] I can imagine, with Alex being gone right now. Uh, I'm...I'm okay. Look, despite all that went down, I thought we had a good thing going, and whether you believe me or not, I wanted still want to be your friend. And me coming to you, after Alex left, is coincidental. I've been trying to reach out, but if you don't think I'm being honest with you, then I don't know what else to do.
PARTIES: @magmahearts, @uncannysam
TIMING: Early December
SUMMARY: What's supposed to be a fun hangout sesh turns serious when Sam shocks Cass with a secret she's been harboring.
WARNINGS: grief tw
If it was one thing that had become valuable since Zach’s death, it was spending time with the other friends that Sam had made over the years, and even more recent friends, like Cass. And the planned get together had given her something to look forward to all week. Of course, anything that was related to comics and cosplay had been right up Sam’s alley as well, even though she had promised she wouldn’t take part in the sewing of her friend’s new Marvels costume she was working on, but Sam would put her hot glue gun skills to use.
With her apartment looking cleaner than it had in weeks, and Scout laying curled up on the couch, Sam was ready for her company. The only thing that might have been a bit of an issue was her lack of sleep and the rambling that had seemed to come from her brain going a hundred miles per hour, but that was okay right? As long as her foot didn’t live in her mouth like it normally did, Sam would be okay. But that was also banking on the fact that the weird shit that had been happening to the twenty-eight year old lately wouldn’t bleed over into their hanging out time tonight.
—
Getting to talk comics with people was always exciting. With most of her friends, Cass was very much in the process of converting them to her various fandoms. Some, like Milo, were already as deep in the world of superheroes as Cass herself, but others were just getting into it. She’d given Alex and Aria recommendation lists about as long as her arm, and waited with excitement for them to finish each issue. Even then, she wanted more. Sam was someone who could provide her with that. The two had a lot of shared interests. It meant that, when they were together, there was scarcely a moment of silence between them, each breath filled with rambling discussions on the latest issues or casting news.
So she was excited as she made her way to the door of Sam’s apartment, practically skipping over. She rapped her knuckles against the wood rhythmically, settling back on her heels as she waited for the door to swing open. When it did, she wasted no time, preferring to launch into discussion immediately. “So, I’m thinking bright colors. The movie was great, but I’m not big on how muted everything is in those movies, you know? Like, comic books are so colorful, and the movies are like ‘oh, no, it would be silly if our people who fly around and shoot lasers out of their hands are wearing bright red! It would —” She cut herself off, noting the odd look on Sam’s face. “Hey, are you good?”
—
When Sam heard the knock on the door, she knew it was go time. Her hot glue gun was going to get some use, but even better, having someone to hang out with again wouldn’t make things seem so quiet and lonely in her apartment. Sure, Scout was a great companion, but he couldn’t talk – at least she didn’t think he could. She wasn’t really quite sure anymore, but that's besides the point. Though she couldn’t help but glance down at him as the thought briefly crossed her mind, No. Don’t even go there, Sam.
As she shook the thought from her mind, she moved to the door and pulled it open with a smile, but the smile quickly faltered when she saw what looked to be a talking pile of rock standing in front of her. Which must have been pretty damn obvious, because when Cass – if this was even Cass – had commented, she blinked a few times and forced an uneasy smile on her face, “Uh, I…I thought we were doing The Marvels cosplay…not The Thing from Fantastic Four. But hey! If that’s what you’re currently vibing with…” Sam had completely ignored all the stuff Cass had been saying as she opened the door. I’m losing my mind. I’m losing my fucking mind. That’s what this has to be…
—
Sam was still looking at her strangely, and Cass took a moment to glance down at her outfit. Maybe she’d done a poor job washing her clothes. She’d been using the washer and dryer at Alex’s cabin instead of the stream lately, but the last time she’d cleaned this particular outfit, she was pretty sure she’d done it in the cave. Had she missed something? Maybe it was ripped? But, no — it looked fine. Clean, normal. So why was Sam staring at her?
The question, too, was perplexing. “Uh… I don’t even know how you’d cosplay the Thing? I mean, styrofoam, I guess? But I’d need to be a lot taller to really sell it, and I don’t really want to commit to all that right now. I’d rather just do the Marvels?” Why was Sam bringing up the Thing? In a moment of panic, Cass wondered if her glamour was unstable, but… She’d feel that, wouldn’t she? It took concentration to hold it up, sure, but it wasn’t as if her concentration could fall enough to be noticeable without her being somewhat aware of it. “Sam, are you okay? You’re not making a ton of sense.”
—
The look on Cass’s face had left Sam even more confused. Is this some kind of joke? Cass didn’t seem the type, but Sam had only known her a couple of months. Still she couldn’t help, but cock her head to the side and raise an eyebrow. Moving forward she even reached out to touch Cass on the cheek. It was legit rock. Firm and not giving when the twenty-eight year old pressed in on it, “If that’s styrofoam…How did you make it so hard?” This didn’t make sense. And as rude as Sam was being right now, she couldn’t get past Cass’s firm rocky exterior.
Hearing a couple of barks from Scout is what had seemed to snap her out of the trance she was in and also made her realize how close she had become to her friend, “Okay, I’m, wow, I’m really sorry. I just, uh…I wasn’t sure if this was a joke or…I mean, it looks great. The rocks look super realistic. You must have worked months on this.” Sam had completely ignored what Cass had said about making a Marvels costume, “I’m being rude though. Come in.” Her mind didn’t want to believe what she was seeing. She wanted it to be a costume, and that’s what she had defaulted too until Cass said otherwise.
—
Sam touched her, and Cass pulled back uncertainly. The glamour was only a visual thing, she knew; beneath it, she was always what she was. She’d come up with a few lies here and there over the years — a skin condition, a need for more lotion, all kinds of things — but with Sam already asking questions she didn’t particularly want to answer… She swallowed nervously, eyes darting down to her body again. The glamour was there, so why wasn’t it working? Nora saw through it, but Nora had always seen through it. Sam, as far as she knew, hadn’t. If she had, she would have said something before now, right?
“I — I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Was that sick feeling in her stomach because of the lie or the nerves? Maybe it was both; a tag-team of nausea delivering a brutal punch. Cass took a step back. “Sam, seriously, you’re freaking me out.” Not a lie. “I didn’t — I’m not wearing any costume.” Not a lie. “What are you talking about? Please tell me. Please. I don’t — I don’t understand.” Definitely not a lie.
—
Sam had felt horrible for touching Cass, and when her friend further explained about being freaked out, the twenty-eight year old stammered, “I - Uh…I’m…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have touched you. I just…Why do you keep saying you don’t understand?” Now, she was starting to panic. Was this real? Did Cass really have rocks all over her body? She had to by the way she was denying everything Sam had said. Unless, Sam really was losing her mind. The only thing she could do would be to actually straighten this out and have a discussion. That or slam the door in the girl’s face and never come out ever again. And as much as she wanted to go with the second option, she knew she couldn’t.
“Cass, please come in…We need to talk. I need to figure this out…I…” Sam was trying not to let tears come to her eyes, but the realization of the whole thing was freaking her out and now, with Scout barking, it seemed as if he was confirming what Sam knew was true in the back of her mind, despite how much she wanted to deny it and hope it wasn’t. But she wasn’t about to have a discussion about being made of rock, in the hallway, even if nobody was around at the moment.
—
“Because I don’t understand,” Cass repeated, a little bit of frustration bubbling up. Her glamour was there. It was in effect, it was hiding her from view. So why was Sam giving her the same look Kuma had when she’d stumbled upon the oread without it? The confusion, the fear… Cass felt a panic gripping her chest, constricting her lungs. If her glamour was messed up somehow and she didn’t know it, no one would want to be around her anymore. No one would want to be her friend, no one would like her.
She took another step back, still uncertain. “Figure what out, Sam? I — I have no idea what you’re talking about!” Nausea rose up, her stomach churning. Was it because she was lying? She didn’t know. She didn’t know if she was lying or not. “I’m not coming in until you tell me what’s going on. I don’t understand what’s happening.”
—
It was like they were talking in circles. Sam didn’t understand what was going on with Cass and Cass didn’t understand what was going on with Sam. It was frustrating to say the least, and she was starting to hear it in Cass’ voice. If Cass said she wasn’t wearing a costume, then this meant that she was like the other things Sam had seen around town. The unexplained that always seemed to occur after little sleep. How did she explain that to someone who swore up and down that they weren’t in a costume and believed they were normal? She had always seen Cass as just a human. Nothing strange, except for maybe her taste in comics sometimes. But then, would Cass think Sam was losing her mind if she told her what she had been experiencing lately? And did Cass know she was covered in rocks? Someone was going to have to give in, and by the looks of things, it was going to have to be Sam.
“Fine. But as soon as I tell you, you have to come in. I haven’t told anyone this…ever, and I’m not about to start with any of my nosey ass neighbors.” Sam took a deep breath trying to find the words that sounded the least…ridiculous. Looking at the ground, she took in a deep breath and let out a long slow sigh, before looking back up at Cass, “So a few months ago I saw something really bad happen to my best friend, and I started going to see somebody about what I saw, and I thought that everything was good, right? But I started having nightmares again and started, pretty much, not sleeping. Well since then if I don’t get enough sleep, I start seeing weird shit. Like people with horns and wings, and now, you…with the rocks. It’s like my comic book obsession has come to life, and I don’t know what to do about it…” She knew Cass was probably going to turn around and run, but there it was. The truth. “Please, don’t say anything to anyone…” Sam stammered before looking down and kicking at the floor embarrassed.
—
“Deal.” It was an easy enough bind to agree to; after all, Cass wanted to know what Sam was talking just as badly as Sam wanted her to come inside. The best deals, Cass knew, were the ones where everyone involved got something out of the agreement. But even knowing that, there was some part of her that would always prefer the deals where she was the one getting more. It was selfish and meanspirited, but that was her, sometimes, no matter how well she hid it. She was getting the better deal here, too. Stepping inside an apartment was easy. Telling someone something you’d never told anyone else? That was a lot more complicated.
As Sam spoke, Cass listened. She felt a mixture of different things: sympathy for what Sam must have seen happen to her friend, understanding for the nightmares that had followed, curiosity for what the lack of sleep had done to her, relief that her glamour wasn’t failing. She ducked into the apartment, taking a deep breath and motioning for Sam to shut the door. “I’m sorry,” she said in a small voice, shifting her weight. “I wasn’t — Um, I wasn’t totally honest with you. About the rocks. I can — I can tell you, but… I mean, I’m gonna sound crazy, so…”
—
A wave of relief seemed to wash over Sam when Cass agreed to step inside, but she still didn’t feel any better about the revelation of her big secret coming out. However, she shut the door and made her way over to the couch to sit down. If Cass wanted to follow, she could, but so many questions were popping up in her mind. Would Cass break the couch? Was it comfortable being rocks all the time? Was any of this actually real or was she just stuck in some nightmare of a former life she once knew? All questions she wanted to ask, but felt ashamed to, “You’re more than welcome to sit wherever. Do you…want anything to drink or?” Do human rocks need water?
Sam didn’t want to outright admit that she was a bit nervous. Never had she invited anyone that wasn’t strictly human. At least to her current knowledge. That could have all been a lie. At this point she was starting to wonder if Zach had been lying to her… “So…you’re telling me, you…are covered in rocks right now? I’m not just seeing things because I’m tired?” Sam let a yawn escape her lips at the word tired. A bad habit that had started to pop up in her life, since all of this started, “Sorry.” She yawned again, covering her mouth and blinking a few times, before setting her eyes on Cass again.
—
Already, Sam was looking at her differently. Cass could feel it. She thought of Kuma, of the way her attitude towards Cass had changed so quickly the moment she saw her without the glamour. Sam wasn’t screaming, wasn’t demanding that Cass leave, but she was looking at her differently and it hurt just a little, so she shrugged. “I’m okay.” She didn’t want to be a burden, didn’t want to give Sam any more excuses to hate her. It was funny — she’d met so many people in this town that thought nothing of her glamour that it felt strange to meet someone who considered it strange at all. She longed for the underreactions of her friends now, or for Alex, who thought it was a thing of beauty.
She shifted her weight a bit, shaking her head. “Well, it isn’t… I’m not covered in rocks. It’s more like… I am the rocks. And it’s not just right now. It’s all the time. I don’t know why you can see it right now. You shouldn’t be able to. I have a — it’s called a glamour. It makes me look more… um… human. Because I’m not. Human.” She glanced up just in time to see Sam yawn. “Are you okay? You seem… really tired.”
—
Not human? Cass is actually made of rocks? Sam was so confused. Comic books had been one thing, but all she had experienced within the past few months had been more than nerve-wracking. She couldn’t quite put her finger on any of this. Why was this happening to her of all people, but regardless, at least it hadn’t been Deer Lady sitting in front of her asking her to pay her debts for being bad, “Does…Does it hurt? I mean being rocks?” She didn’t know what she was saying. “Look, I’m sorry. I’ve just...There are stories that my family has passed down, but none of rock people or half of the other types of people I’ve seen walking around Wicked’s Rest since this…thing happened. I don’t know whether to call it a gift or a curse.”
Sam squeezed her tired eyes shut for a moment, before looking back over at Cass. “I’m sorry if I seem judgemental. I don’t mean to be, but I’ve just never experienced this before, and all of this happened so fast…And what do you mean you’re not human?” She paused for a moment, “If I don’t sleep, I can see through, what did you call them? Glamours?” She sighed, “Aka…I’m afraid to go to sleep…Afraid that what got my friend, might come for me too or worse…Deer Lady…”
—
Did it hurt? No one had ever asked her that before. The question confused her a little, and that confusion was written clearly on the oread’s face. “Not any more than it hurts you to not be rocks, I guess?” There were probably ways of being that did ache a little, but Cass didn’t think hers did. The things that hurt her were outside forces. Not what she was, but other people’s reactions to it. “What… kind of stories do you have?” Maybe she could find some explanation that fit in with what Sam already knew, some way of explaining things that would slot nicely into her existing worldview. If nothing else, at least it would help her to know that Cass wasn’t nuts or anything like that.
“I’m fae,” she replied. “A nymph. An oread, to be, like, super specific. A rock nymph. Or, um, technically a volcano nymph, in my case.” How many times had she explained this now? She was starting to lose track. It never got any easier, especially if the person she was explaining it to wasn’t someone who already knew what a fae was. “What do you mean by that? What… got your friend? And who’s Deer Lady?”
—
Cass’s answer made sense. Sam didn’t physically hurt as a human unless she was injured or sick, which almost led her to her next question, but she refrained. She could see the hurt on the girl’s face. This had definitely not gone like it should have. They were supposed to just be working on a cosplay together. Not discussing what Cass actually was or that Sam could see the truth of what people really were, “That makes sense.” She nodded, before stopping for a moment. There had been many legends from her people, and sharing them could take a while, so instead, she tried to aim for something that might have sounded familiar or really just aimed for the first one that came to mind, “As for your question, my stories are legends passed down from my Mohawk ancestors that my grandparents, aunties, uncles, and parents have shared with me growing up. You may or may not have heard some of them, but one popular one, Sky-Woman, is about Atsi'tsiaka:ion, a celestial being who fell from the sky after being cast out the heavens for doing something wrong. Some versions of the legend even tell of her bringing strawberries and tobacco to the Earth.” Sam had loved hearing legends and tales from her family. Even to this day, when she would occasionally return home to visit her family in Canada, she would get her aunties to tell her the same tales she had heard many times before. But now that some of these things were coming true in their own ways, Sam was struggling to adjust.
“Fae…” Sam repeated the word over and over in her head, and the more Cass described, the more familiar it all started to sound as she began to recall more of her people's lore. She had heard of something similar, but Cass looked nothing like what she imagined in her head, “You’re Gahongas!” She figured Cass probably didn’t know what the word meant, “It means Stone Thrower. But you’re taller than what I was taught, and I don’t believe there was ever any mention of Gahongas having rocks for skin. I’m sorry for prying, but do you happen to live in a cave?” The legend had spoken of such, and if Cass had said yes, her family’s legends were starting to become reality. Her realization soon faded into something else though with the question of what happened to Zach and the mention of Deer Lady.
Sam stood up from where she had been sitting and walked over to the window to look outside. Did she really want to rehash this? Cass had been kind enough to explain herself when she could have easily told Sam to fuck off, “You’re probably going to think I’m lying, but…I’m pretty sure it was vampires…There were puncture marks all over his body, and he was as pale as the snow outside when they were finished with him…I ran though. I did nothing to help him…” She trailed off, tears coming to her eyes as she continued to stare outside, “It’s why I fear Deer Lady is after me. She comes for people who have been bad. And if you’re living proof of the Gahongas, then that means that Deer Lady is real too, and I’m never going to be able to sleep again…”
—
The story wasn’t one Cass was familiar with, though she wasn’t familiar with most human stories aside from the ones she’d immersed herself in on television or in comic books. She liked this one, though; liked the idea of something bigger than herself, just as she always had. For Cass, and the oreads she’d grown up around, that bigger thing was the Earth. The stones, the volcanoes, the mountains. “What did she do wrong?” It was hard not to wonder. What could be so bad to see someone cast out from their community? If Cass understood, maybe she’d be able to work out why she’d been turned away from hers.
Her brow furrowed a little at the unfamiliar word. “Some fae are shorter. Some are taller. Like everyone else, I guess.” She thought of the nymph she’d met in her cave, the one who towered over everything, or of the one at the BMV who was shorter. “I, um…” She hesitated. Would Sam judge her if she admitted to living in a cave? Shifting her weight, she nodded sheepishly. “I do, yeah. I lived in a volcano in Hawai’i, but…” There were no volcanoes in Maine. She used to think about leaving to find one somewhere else, but that was long before she’d made connections and carved out a place of belonging for herself here. Now, she couldn’t imagine leaving. Not unless someone forced her to.
She watched Sam walk towards the window, wondering if she’d said or done something wrong somewhere along the line. “I wouldn’t think you were lying,” she replied quietly, trailing behind her friend at a safe distance. “I… Vampires are real. I know a few. So… You could be right.” Was it okay, telling Sam all this? Would she feel better knowing it, or was ignorance bliss? Cass didn’t know. She didn’t know what she’d want if she were in Sam’s shoes. “I don’t think you were bad, Sam. It sounds like you were afraid. Anyone would have been. Being afraid isn’t the same as being bad.”
—
Sam hadn’t expected the question of what Skywoman had done wrong, “Different versions claim different things. But it’s a story that represents creation and sometimes the contrast of good vs evil, because some legends claim that Skywoman had twins.” She took a moment. Was there still a lesson that Skywoman could teach Sam at this moment? Good vs evil? It was something she could ponder on another time. She had other things to discuss with Cass.
“That…makes sense about the height differences.” Sam listened as Cass continued to explain Jogah as well as admitting to living in a cave and once a volcano. There was no judgment from Sam at all. Instead, the more she knew about legends and the reality of some of the creatures in them, the better prepared she would be if she were going to keep seeing the world for what it really was. Turning around to face her friend, she let her eyes stay focused on Cass’s. She had seen what the woman was made of and there wasn’t any need to study her rocky exterior, “That’s actually really cool, Cass. Thank you for being honest with me.”
A small smile had slipped over her lips, eyes still holding lingering tears, but soon dropped again with the confirmation that vampires were real. Knowing that Cass actually knew vampires was something that scared her, “How…aren’t you afraid of them?” Had that been a dumb question considering her friend was made of rocks? Vampires couldn’t bite rocks. But they could easily bite human skin, “But I could have done something. I could have fought. Tried to get them off of him. Anything! But I hid like a coward, Cass. And then ran! I left him there to die!” By now the tears were streaming down Sam’s cheeks as she found herself collapsing to the floor defeated.
—
Good and evil were difficult concepts to understand. Cass knew that. Even in the comics and stories she adored so much, there were gray areas. No villain was completely wrong, no hero completely righteous. The truth always fell somewhere between two extremes. She could only assume that the stories Sam’s family had shared with her were similar. Skywoman may have done something wrong, but it was wrong to cast her out, too. It had been wrong for Cass’s aos si to cast her out, to leave her to fend for herself as a child. There were no right answers; that was the hard part.
Sam didn’t seem to be judging her for what she was, and there was some relief in there. Cass almost took the thanks reflexively, almost tightened a bind around her friend’s throat before remembering herself. She didn’t want to do that to friends, except… except she did. There was something she could never quite shake, some inclination towards chaos that was hard to rid herself of. She forced it down now, forced herself to swallow it like a dry loaf of bread that she needed to save herself from starving. “You shouldn’t thank me,” she said, the words hard to force out because she didn’t quite want to say them. “Or people like me. We can use your words against you.”
She hummed at the question. “I know some who are kind,” she replied. “Vampires, werewolves, fae… they’re like humans. There are bad ones out there, ones who are cruel and violent and evil. But there are good ones, too. A vampire I know has been more of a parent to me than my actual parents ever even tried to be.” She ached a little as Sam continued. Her pain was so obvious, so tangible. Cass was gentle when she spoke again. “What could you have done, Sam? Honestly? If you hadn’t run, they would have turned on you next. I didn’t know your friend, but… I don’t think he would have wanted you to die with him.”
—
Sam looked at Cass through tears. What had she meant? Shouldn’t thank her or people like her? This hadn’t been in the lore she had heard, at least, if it had, she couldn’t remember. She would have to go back. Call her elders for clarification. If there were more Jogah living in Wicked’s Rest, her sight would give her the answer. But she knew not all people were Jogah. Not all who walked around with wings and hooves and horns, “Right…” She nodded softly, forcing down the words of thanks out of respect for the warning she had just been given.
Sam wiped her eyes and forced back the knot in her throat. The confirmation of more than just what Cass referred to as fae, included a creature Sam was already fearful of and another she had grown up hearing many legends about. But Cass’s words, and the way she explained how a vampire had taken her under their wing was slowly opening the young woman’s eyes to an idea she let slip her mind the night Zach was killed – that not everything in this world is made of evil intentions. Though it’d have to be something she reluctantly experienced for herself, and with the way things were coming to light in this town, she knew it probably wouldn’t be far off. Until then, she opted to remain quiet on the subject.
“I…I don’t know. And I know you’re right. But I was a coward in the face of fear, and I’ll never be able to get the sound of him screaming out of my head.” Sam released a quivering breath. Cass was right. She knew Zach wouldn’t have wanted her to end up in the same position, neither would her parents. Wiping her eyes one final time, she slowly got back to her feet. “I’m sorry again, about earlier. This…new ability, it’s taking a lot to get used to, and it’s a lot to take in. Can you forgive me for earlier?”
—
“I can tell you all the rules.” Because wasn’t that what she’d want someone to do for her, roles reversed? Whether she wanted to be or not, Sam lived in this world now. And living in any world without knowing the rules of it was a very dangerous thing, a very risky ordeal. Binds could kill people; Cass had seen it. And the idea of something like that happening to Sam, who talked about comics and made cosplay with her, was absolutely nauseating. She couldn’t even begin to accept it.
Sam had been through enough already. That much was clear. It seemed unfair, seemed unjust. Cass had been born into this world and, as a result, the things she suffered made sense. They were expected, they were normal. Not deserved, she didn’t think — imagining that she’d somehow earned her experience with Rhett made her angry just to think about — but not unfair, either. For Sam, things were different. She shouldn’t have been attacked and victimized by a world she hadn’t even known existed. It wasn’t right.
“You weren’t a coward,” Cass insisted. “You saved yourself. That was the only thing you could have done. What happened isn’t your fault. The only people who are to blame are the vampires who did it, okay?” There were bad people out there. Cass knew that better than most. But she also knew that Sam wasn’t one of them. So it was easy to offer her a small smile, to nod her head. “Of course I can forgive you,” she said quietly. “You didn’t mean anything by it. I know that. It’s… a lot to take in. I get it.”
—
“You’re not gonna get in trouble or anything right? I-I don’t want to get you in trouble.” Sam had cared deeply about Cass. She was starting to see her as her kid sister, and now, an even cooler kid sister, because she was practically a volcano. It didn’t get any more badass than that the more it started to sink in. And as much as she wanted to tell her parents that the Little People were real, she didn’t want to break Cass’s trust nor put her family in any kind of danger. This town was full of scary things, and Sam was only seeing the tip of the iceberg.
Sam further listened to Cass knowing the younger woman had a point. As hard as it was to accept, it was fight or flight in that moment, and as much as she had hated herself for it, she had chosen flight, which had given her a second chance at life. Now, the best thing she could do was educate herself. Learn more about the creatures and people of Wicked’s Rest, so she hopefully wouldn’t be caught off guard and would be able to do something about it.
But first she wanted to make it up to Cass, “I can’t say what I want to say, but you’ve really opened my eyes today and given me a chance to see a different side of this new world. It means a lot. And I would love to hear about more of Wicked’s Rest’s residents, if you have time. I’ll spring for pizza, and we can work on that Ms. Marvel costume?” She knew it was a lot and wouldn’t be just a one evening thing, but Sam had seen the true identity of her friend, and there was no doubt in her mind that Cass wasn’t anything other than her friend.
LOCATION: The Sugar Pot
TIMING: Current
PARTIES: Alistair (@deathsplaything) & Cass (@magmahearts)
SUMMARY: Alistair is confronted by an angry customer, Cass steps in to help.
The Sugar Pot at nine in the morning was always busy. This meant constant conversations with customers about tea and the different medicinal properties some of the herbs he carried had. Melody was behind the counter preparing teas. Because of the crowd, Brutus was at Alistair’s side, eyes scanning the customers, almost as if he were more aware than a dog should. Still, it was curious how the dog knew exactly where to guide Alistair with no more than a simple command of “Neach-ceannach.” As soon as Alistair spoke the Gaelic phrase, Brutus walked over to Cass and sat directly in front of her, gaze focused directly on her face with his tongue hanging out the side of his muzzle. “Welcome to the Sugar Pot. Is there anything I can help you find, or are you simply waiting to order?” He asked with a smile, looking more over her shoulder than directly at her.
The bell attached to the shop's front door chimed as the door was flung open, and Alistair heard the heavy footsteps coming directly toward him. Oh, this couldn’t be good. “Give it back!” A loud voice demanded from his right, and Alistair awkwardly turned his body to face the sound. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean.” He spoke in a calm tone, a polite smile crossing his face. “My wife’s wedding ring, you jackass!” The man shouted back, grabbing Alistair by the collar of his shirt and shoving him backward, causing Brutus to skitter out of the way before the older man tripped over him.
Stumbling into place, Alistair’s face went from a polite smile to downright pissed. At that moment, the spellcaster wished there was a way to cast a dome of silence over the two of them. This was going to raise suspicion, and he didn’t need that. “Follow me,” Alistair said smoothly, then spoke the command “doras cùil” to Brutus, who guided the man to the back of the store, angry man in toe. With his back turned toward the angry man, Alistair rolled his eyes and made a face before letting his features drop to an even expression. As soon as they were in the back of the shop, Alistair turned around and began to whisper in a voice so no one else could hear them, suddenly thankful that it was loud enough in the shop for others to drown out their voices.
“She knew the price of my services.” He hissed toward the angry man. “I require a sacrifice to be made in order to be healed, and that was the item she chose. She could have chosen to do anything she pleased, but that’s what had the most value to her.” Alistair raised a brow, arms crossed over his chest. “Now you can accept that she treasures your bond, or you can continue to piss someone off that you really don’t want to piss off.”
As if on cue, Alistair heard the footsteps of two people walking toward them. One had the familiar footfalls of his business partner, Melody, and the other were the steps of someone he didn’t quite recognize. “Now you can either leave or make this difficult,” Alistair said, tilting his head to one side with an icy smile.
Tea was one of those funny human things that Cass had become obsessed with not long after learning of its existence. The earthy scents and tastes that came along with it always enthralled her, and the warmth had a way of being comforting even when everything else seemed uncertain. She liked letting it warm her hands, liked sipping on it slowly and letting it warm her chest, too. Lately, with the shiver of aftermath from Rhett’s cold iron knife and bruising hands never far from the forefront of her mind, she’d been clinging to it a little more tightly.
The Sugar Pot was a good place to go for it. They had a nice variety of flavors, and an atmosphere that Cass enjoyed. The staff was kind, and the prices weren’t bad. All in all, it made for a good morning stop. She stood towards the back of the crowd now, the excitement of being surrounded by people thrumming through her. Someone approached; she thought she remembered this man being the owner of the shop or something. She offered his guide dog a grin, though she made no move to touch it. She’d learned early in her adventures in humanity to leave animals alone when they were working, and this one clearly was.
“Just waiting to order,” she confirmed. “But if you have any recommendations, I’m always down to try new —” She didn’t get to finish the thought. Someone was storming in, marching up to the shop owner and grabbing him. Cass wanted to leap into action right then and there, but the shop owner seemed to want a more private resolution. The two moved to the back of the shop, and Cass watched. She waited what felt like an appropriate amount of time before moving towards the pair.
She was careful not to eavesdrop, even if curiosity was burning in her chest. Had the shop owner taken the man’s wife’s wedding ring? If so, why? Were wedding rings expensive? Cass had never stolen one, mostly because it was difficult to slip a ring off someone’s finger without them noticing. Should she steal one in the future? It may not be worth it if this was how people reacted. Coming to a stop in front of the pair, she glared at the man who’d stormed in. “I think you should go with the ‘leave’ option,” she said, trying to sound intimidating. Given her small stature and soft features, it was a hard sell.
The man glared at Alistair, who stood his ground despite feeling vulnerable in that moment. Brutus was at his side but he was working. This dog was as defensive as a wet rag. “Give it back. It’s important.” He snarled under his breath. “She made a deal. I don’t go back on them.” Alistair’s focus was on the sound of the steps and the unfamiliar voice. He was grateful for the help, even if Melody would probably have it handled. Still, if she didn’t need to use her magic, then that would be preferable. Melody took a step towards the man and glared. “You put your hands on him. You need to leave,” she insisted.
Alistair stood there as the man finally grit his teeth and walked away, giving up. “He’s left,” Melody told Alistair, pressing a hand to his arm before stepping back to the register. Thinking he was alone, his body deflated, and a loud exhale escaped him, shaky. “Bha sin uamhasach.” He muttered to himself with a shake of his head. He tugged on Brutus’ harness but didn’t have the heart to give the command. Brutus nosed at his owner’s hand, sensing his distress. He heard the movement of fabric, someone shifting their weight. He wasn’t alone. “Oh! Sorry, I didn’t realize you were still there.” He spoke, not turning to face her, instead still facing the direction that the man had been. “Thanks for the assistance there. I think the fact that more than one person was there made him leave.” He spoke, giving a soft smile. “Whatever you want, it’s on the house.”
She was more tense than she normally was. Before her experience with Rhett, Cass was pretty good at confrontation. She was confident, she was sure of herself, she was certain. But it was like all of that had melted away the moment that knife was pressed against her temple. She was afraid now, and she didn’t want to be. She hated herself for it, hated the way it felt. Her hands trembled as she held them at her side, and the angry man didn’t see them and no one else was looking but she still despised the way they shook.
She wasn’t sure how much of a difference she made. One person in the room would have probably been enough; most people wouldn’t attack a blind man with any witnesses at all to speak of. Still, there was a flood of relief as he left, a rush that left her cemented to where she stood as he passed her and still standing stock still even after he’d gone. For a moment, she forgot there was anyone else in the room at all. Then, the shop owner spoke and broke the spell. Cass turned to look at him, shifting her weight uncertainly.
“You’re welcome,” she replied. It was a security blanket, the way she took the bind and folded it away for later. She might never use it at all, might never let it come to fruition, but it made her feel a little better in the moment to have it, to have something. Pretending she was stronger than she was, pretending this small amount of power over a stranger made up for the power that had been taken from her by someone she thought was a friend… it helped. Not much, but a little. “That’s nice of you. Um… Are you okay?”
Alistair rubbed at his temples momentarily, beginning to process what had just happened to him. It had happened to him before, nothing he wasn’t already used to. Still, sometimes it shook him up a bit. When he couldn’t see the person coming, it changed things. One second he was being yelled at, and the next, hands were on him, and he didn’t have any way to defend himself. He’d largely adapted to being blind, but moments like that still got to him.
If he were allowed to do it over and not attempt to save Mikael’s life, knowing the situation's outcome, he still would have done it—anything to save the person he loved. It didn’t mean he had to wear it like a badge of pride, though. “Yeah,” Alistair spoke, his voice far away. “Yeah, I’ll… be fine. Just gimme a minute.” He finally forced out, nodding his head slowly. “Sorry you had to see that.” His voice had gone from sure and confident to weak and timid after he had allowed him the time he needed to process the altercation with the man. “Just hard to, uh.” He waved a hand in front of his face. “Hard to see it comin’ when y’can’t see anything at all, you know?”
He was so caught up in everything that he didn’t realize he had even said thank you. In a normal situation, he was careful of his words. He’d lived in the town long enough to know better, but it had slipped out, and he hadn’t even noticed. He tapped his foot a few times, the nerves still there. He hated being weak in front of a stranger. He reserved having a weakness for those who knew him best—people like Melody. “So uh.” He tugged at Brutus’s lead, instructing him to lead him to the counter. “Menu’s below the counter. Get whatever you want.”
“Yeah,” Cass replied, though she didn’t know. How could you even begin to relate to something like blindness if you’d never experienced it before? You could try to understand it, could try to comprehend, but you couldn’t know. Not entirely, not in any kind of a way that mattered. But that wasn’t really a discussion for now; the complexities of it were too much to unpack when the adrenaline of the previous altercation was still dying down. Cass waited for the man to walk before she moved, too, trailing along behind him to the front of the shop.
She tucked the thank you away, a quiet thing she could use as she saw fit, whenever it became necessary to do so. It might never see the light of day, or it might be utilized immediately. Even Cass herself wasn’t sure. She didn’t plan ahead for these things, didn’t scheme for a future that always seemed to be in flux, anyway.
Making her way to the counter, she pulled out the menu and studied it with a thoughtful hum. “What’s your favorite?” She asked, raising her eyes up to meet his instinctively, regardless of the fact that he wouldn’t be able to see the gesture.
Thinking for a long moment, Alistair nodded his head slowly and got to work. It wasn’t graceful, working on a tea while blind. But he’d gotten it down to a science. His hands were his eyes, and everything was meticulously labeled so he’d be able to serve tea if Melody wasn’t available. He grabbed a cup, then placed a sensor inside the cup so he’d know how much liquid he was pouring in. When it emitted a sound, he stopped pouring and removed the object. He then added the tea bag and added scoops of his chosen blend. Melody stood beside him, frothing up some milk, which she then put into Alistair’s hands for him to pour into the cup and complete it.
Once Alistair put the lid on, he set it on the counter with a smile. “Mocha chai.” He announced. “A chocolate-forward taste with spicy chai notes.” He folded his hands in front of him, waiting for either a noise of approval or a worried ‘I want something else’ noise. “It was between that and the Candy Cane dream. Didn’t know if you like the taste of peppermint, so I played it safe.”
Cass watched him work, curiously eyeing the tools he was using to assist himself. Fae often thought of humans as primitive things, but Cass had never agreed. They were resourceful; smart. It was part of why she was so fascinated by them, part of why she used to spend so much time watching them as a kid. Her aos si had hated it, had never been secretive about their distaste, but Cass couldn’t help it. She wanted to know more, wanted to know everything. She still did, even now.
She took the cup eagerly as it was placed in front of her, already bringing it to her lips for a sip before he’d even announced what it was. The taste hit her tongue, warm and sweet and pleasant, and she grinned as she swallowed it. “That’s amazing,” she sighed contentedly. “I love chocolate. I like peppermint, too, but I kind of think this would be hard to beat.”
A smile flitted across Alistair’s lips at Cass’s exclamation. Good, he had guessed right. “I’m glad that you enjoy it so much.” Melody took the used materials away from Alistair’s station and began to clean them for him, staying silent. “We’ve got a menu for hot tea, and we also create custom tea blends to take home with you.” He explained, gesturing to the walls around them that were filled with different things like spices, flower petals, and so on.
His mind fell back to the man who had tried to get his wife’s ring back, and his face fell. He was worried. What if the man tried something else? What if he came back with backup? Alistair wrang his hands together nervously as he thought about it. It wouldn’t be the first time something like this had happened, and it wouldn’t be the last, either. It was in moments like these that he wanted to fix his vision. But he knew he never would. His lack of sight was a reminder for him. A reminder that he’d failed.
He blinked and returned to the present, dropping his hands back onto the counter. “Is there anything else I can help you with?” He asked the girl, his voice still a little distant as he attempted to gather himself back.
The man seemed to disappear for a moment. Not physically, of course — people did do that sometimes, but Cass was learning that it was more an ‘mare on the astral plane’ thing than anything else — but emotionally. Like his mind went somewhere else. She’d seen it before. With Alex, with Ariadne, with Wynne and Metzli and most of her friends, really. Everyone in this town was haunted by something. Cass knew that. The shopkeeper wasn’t any different.
He asked if there was anything else; there wasn’t. But Cass hesitated, anyway, looked at him for a moment. Her voice was soft as she spoke. “Are you okay?”
At the sudden question, Alistair’s head snapped up. “Peachy.” He responded automatically without thinking of his real answer. “Sorry, just a little…” he trailed off, waving a hand in the air. “...shaken up by the whole being grabbed by a stranger thing.” He finally admitted, rubbing his arm. “Melody, I need a few minutes. Would you mind?” He asked over his shoulder, which earned him a hand on his shoulder. “Go ahead, I’ve got the counter.” She spoke in reply with a worried gaze locked on her friend.
He nodded toward Cass before stepping away from behind the counter and making for the back room. “Appreciate the help,” Alistair repeated with a nod over his shoulder in the general direction of Cass’s location. “If you ever need more tea, you know where to find me.”
He didn’t seem peachy, but Cass knew better than to push too hard. If she knew him better, she might have, but… Pestering a stranger to tell you what was bothering them was a sure-fire way to ensure that they wouldn’t like you anymore, and Cass needed so badly to be liked. So she offered a small hum of acknowledgement and a smile he wouldn’t see and hoped that this was the right thing to do.
“Right,” she agreed, knowing she probably would be back. For the tea, for the company, for anything that would give her the smallest bit of warmth at the end of the day. “I’ll see you around.”
Alistair smiled, nodding at the girl as she said goodbye. “Don’t be a stranger. You’re always welcome at the Sugar Pot.” He spoke with a nod of his head. “Thanks for your help again.” And that was that. Alistair decided to return to keeping himself occupied by walking back over to his laptop in the corner of the shop, eager to shake off the earlier moments of the day.
He hoped that would be the last of that man, having learned that there was no way to get what he wanted while acting the way he did. It wasn’t the first time someone had barged into the shop in a huff about wanting something back, and it wouldn’t be the last. Still, it didn’t stop Alistair from getting shaken up over the whole experience.
With a soft nod, he returned to work, occasionally using Brutus’s eyes to get a glimpse through the dog’s eyes to make sure he wouldn’t be caught unaware again.
Timing: Some time before [The Demon and I] and also a few years ago
Location: Folklore Tourism giftshop
Feat: @magmahearts & @eldritchaccident
Warnings: none!
Summary: Cass meets Teddy for the first time, but Teddy meets Cass again!
There were things that stuck with you, no matter how much time had passed. It had been years since her first ill-fated attempt into heroism went terribly wrong, years since she was tossed off a boat and into the ocean by some heartless, idiot criminals who did their dirty work on uncharted waters, and years since she was rescued by something she still didn’t quite understand. Cass had never forgotten her experience with the large, aquatic creature that saved her from the water, but she’d always assumed she was the only one who’d ever had such an experience.
Moving to Wicked’s Rest proved her wrong.
She recognized the figure the very first time she saw it on a poster. Big Fin, they’d named it; she wondered who’d picked the name. It seemed fitting enough, given the fact that the creature did have big fins. A little on the nose, maybe, but so was a volcanic oread calling herself Magma, so who was Cass to judge?
She’d found a shop that seemed to specialize in Big Fin merchandise, among other things. Cass quickly found a plushie, bringing it to the counter and bouncing on her heels. “Hi,” she greeted the clerk behind the counter, putting the plushie down. It was rare for her to actually pay for something, but she wanted to come back here and she didn’t want to risk being banned for shoplifting. “These are great. Like, the best. Have you ever seen Big Fin, like, in person?”
—
Few things in the verse got the demon to preen quite how talking up the monstrous form they often assumed did. Teddy’s mouth slid from that classic cheesy customer service brightness, to one of genuine interest, bristling with pride. “Oh yeah?I love those lil guys. Believe it or not I helped design them.” Between being the model for the toy, and a lover of plushies, you could say that pretty easily.
The other question brought a little chuckle though. One that followed the lilt often left by the Leviathan itself. “Ahh no, not quite. Seen its hands and tailfin once, but somehow I always manage to miss the big picture.” After all, it was pretty hard to see yourself, let alone when you were a thirty to fifty foot tall sea monster.
“How about you?” So many people claimed so many things. What kind would this one be? Did the creature attack someone and they saw it? Had they been the best of friends before? One man even tried to go around claiming he had killed Big Finn, which did not go over super well with the owner of the establishment who happened to be on site that day. A little oopsie and that man just happened to fall overboard with a small magical tag that signaled Teddy it was time for a little munch.
This tasty little nugget didn’t quite strike them as the type to aggrandize the death of a beloved cryptid who made for even more beloved stuffed toys. “Ever met the big fish? What's your take?”
—
“Really?” Cass looked at the stranger behind the counter with a new level of admiration in her eyes. Anyone who was responsible for a plushie design like this had absolutely earned her respect, she figured, especially if it meant they were also a fan of Big Fin. The sea monster got a bad rap sometimes for being… Well. A sea monster. But that wasn’t fair. Big Fin did good things, and people ignored that in favor of screaming just because the creature was large or imposing, as if that could be helped. No one got to choose what they looked like.
And maybe there was a little bit of kinship there. Maybe it was hard for Cass to think of all the people who hated Big Fin based on looks alone without remembering the way Kuma had screamed and told her to leave the moment she’d dropped her glamour. No one deserved to feel the way Cass had felt in that moment, not even a thirty foot sea monster.
“You’re missing out,” she sighed, fiddling with the tag on the plushie. “Between you and me? It saved my life one time. I was younger, and I ended up on a ship with some bad guys. They tossed me overboard, and Big Fin got me back to shore. I probably would have drowned if it hadn’t saved me. I still don’t really know why it did.” What did a sea monster get out of saving a stupid kid who’d made her own bed?
If the creature would have stayed around long enough, Cass would have thanked it. She didn’t know if sea monsters could hold you to a bind, but she knew Big Fin would have earned the gratitude anyway.
—
The more praise that extolled from the customer’s mouth, the more Teddy shone. She was well on her way to earning a discount. Or more. They hadn’t decided yet. The demon’s smile warmed as she continued, she couldn’t have known that it was actually them underneath those scales and teeth. Somehow that made it better. Sheltered beneath a carapace of rough hide and glowing spikes, there was a bit more animalistic instinct, it was a bit more emotionally driven than their ‘human’ form, but it was still Teddy.
And Teddy was struck with the memory. The moment she mentioned it. Like fitting in the final piece that completes the puzzle. Her face wasn’t just familiar from around town, or maybe a few of the tours. No, it went back much further than that.
~~ Some Time Ago ~~
The demon felt the waves lapping up above as they watched the wake of a ship suddenly stop as a commotion on board took everyone’s attention. This far out to sea it was dangerous for a ship that big to stall. Even in calm waters you never knew what lurked below. Teddy had been content to test their might against many ships in their past, doubly so if they carried some unsavory cargo.
Teal eyes poked just above the waves, watching and calculating the best time to strike when– A fierce little fireball went overboard. No, not a thing, a person. Doused immediately by the hungry ocean, Ted’s gaze flicked back to the damage it had already done. The ship was in chaos. Well on its way to sinking without the sea monster’s help. Unfortunately so was the little flame.
—
She didn’t know why she got on the boat to begin with. All she knew was that the men were bad and she wanted to stop them. Even as a young teen, Cass had carried with her a fierce desire to protect the world around her, to keep people safe where they might be harmed. The ship was bad, and so she climbed aboard. The people needed to be stopped, and so she poured magma into the engines, broke the items stored below deck, wreaked havoc on the ship as a whole.
But she didn’t really plan for what would happen when she was caught.
It was an inevitable thing; she wasn’t subtle, and she’d made sure the ship wasn’t going anywhere. Still, she’d felt a shock of surprise when a meaty hand had grabbed her by the hair and yanked her from her hiding spot, when that same hand had dragged her to the edge of the boat. They couldn’t undo the damage she’d caused, they told her, but they could avenge it. They could make sure no rescue came for her, could ensure that if the ship was found and pulled back to shore, she wouldn’t be saved along with it.
She fought them all the way, though she was too afraid to fight as herself. If they saw she was fae, what would they do? The older nymphs in her aos si had warned that humans hurt fae so much worse than they hurt other humans, but what could be worse than this? Before she had the chance to drop her glamour and fight like an oread instead of a terrified teenager, the ground disappeared beneath her feet and she was falling. Down, down, down.
The water wasn’t soft when she hit it. The world went black around her as consciousness fled quickly and, by the time it returned a few brief seconds later, she was already sinking. Swimming was harder when you were made of stone; you sank so much faster. She kicked desperately, but she couldn’t go up faster than she was going down.
—
The small frame sank so fast. But Teddy was faster. They were built for the water. For moments like this. The ship above groaned out a death rattle as it began to take on water faster than its crew could bail. Something that drove the demon to grin as it sped after the girl. Until they cradled her limp body and frantically began to think of what the next step was. She had been using fire, lava. But right then she looked human. It was hard to say if decompression sickness would be a worry or not. Better safe than sorry. More than that, the girl needed air.
There was one source. Not the prettiest. But something the monster could make renewable if they shifted to the right body. Thinking fast, the creature nosed the girl’s body upward. Keeping it steady and in place as the changes began. Teddy didn’t need to make themselves bigger per say, just more adapted. That did make the shedding of this skin a bit more gruesome.
Teal lights sallowed away to dull gray as the frame became a husk. Inside it something bellowed, claws and tentacles pushed outward until the flesh burst. Cast aside like dirty clothes. The new form wasn’t too different. Still recognizable. One of their favorites. The best part of it though was a clever redirection of gills and lungs. Pushing pressure this way and that until a little kangaroo pouch of clean breathable oxygen sat upon its tummy. Teddy pushed the girl inside, let the water flush away. And breathed until she had enough room to do the same.
Time went on, and Teddy surfaced slowly. It didn’t feel like she was moving more than one might when they slept. (Though it was a very strange sensation to have such a warm stone sitting inside one’s skin.) Ted carefully removed the little figure and rested on their back, the same way Leviathan had done for it when it was just a babe. Before they could breathe underwater at all. She was alive. Good. They’d wait as long as she needed to wake. Then take her wherever she needed to be.
—
Consciousness was fleeting as she sank, rushing out as the water rushed in. Cass fought the loss of it desperately, even though on a logical level she knew that there was no hope. She was out in the middle of the ocean, the only source of reprieve a quickly sinking ship where everyone on board wanted to kill her. No one knew she was out here; why would they? Her latest crew had abandoned her a week or so back, citing her clinginess as an excuse and leaving her alone in the warehouse they’d been holed up in. Maybe that was why she’d boarded the ship to begin with; she wanted, so badly, to prove that she was still worth being around. People loved heroes. If she could be one, maybe they’d love her, too.
Except it didn’t work out that way, did it? Cass had tried heroism on for size, and all she’d gotten was a lungful of saltwater and a corpse no one would ever find. No one would even think to look for her. There was no one to miss her, no one to take note of her absence at all. She was going to die here, just as alone as she’d lived. Unwanted, uncared for. Embraced only by the sea that drowned her.
The water grew hot around her, her body’s defenses jumping in to try to save her, but it was useless. She couldn’t boil an ocean into steam quickly enough to keep herself from drowning, couldn’t save herself with even the most impressive of eruptions. This was how it ended, she guessed — in water instead of in lava. It seemed so wrong.
Strangely, there was a shape in the water moving towards her. Large and shifting, glowing one moment and then fading the next. Cass wondered if she was imagining it. Maybe this was something a mind did when it was dying: created fantastical sea creatures that swam and moved and cared one way or another whether you lived or died. She’d never heard of such a thing before but, then again, she’d never died before, either. Maybe this was a common experience.
Consciousness finally left her just as the creature scooped her up, and she thought it was probably better this way. She didn’t want her corpse to sink to the bottom of the ocean and decompose there alone. If she was swallowed up by a whale, at least she could go out convincing herself that her death had meant something to someone, even if all it had meant was an easy meal.
Except… consciousness didn’t usually return to you when you’d been swallowed up, did it?
She opened her eyes under a starry sky, resting against something solid. She thought it was an island at first, but islands didn’t tend to move. Shifting, Cass sat up enough to look down at what she was laying on. Scales and skin? She remembered the sea creature, eyes wide as they traveled up until she was looking at the unmistakable shape of a head. “Whoa,” she breathed, shifting into an unbalanced sort of standing position. “Are you… Can you understand me?”
~~ Back in 2023 ~~
Well, damn. Something about the way she spoke jogged the demon’s memory, which most days was about as reliable as a wet paper towel trying to hold up a bridge. Cass was just that memorable, they guessed. “You know Big Finn actually kinda… saved me too. Indirectly, and probably not as cool as your story, but. Yeah. Saved me too.” It wasn’t a lie. If Teddy hadn’t been turned into a demon, they would’ve been fed to one. The very one that saved them. Funny how those things work. Not to mention the countless times that being a demon had saved Teds from their reckless behavior, most of which would have for sure resulted in an untimely demise. Big Finn had saved them. And now they shared that in common with the little customer.
Teddy’s smile brightened. “You know, I think that makes us buddies. And I think that means you need something better than that plushie.” The grin took on a slightly mischievous tone as the demon scuttled away from the counter. Not really explaining what they were doing, as if that would ruin the surprise.
One thing Teds was really good at was making sure there was always a source of comfort nearby. Too much shit in their life left them feeling tired, broken, and beaten down. To anyone else, it might have seemed like an extreme desire for laziness. Keeping a whole spare room of the shop for a bed. It was a hidden room, and only a few of the employee’s really knew about it, but hey. It was there if they needed it. And Teddy was the one who needed it the most often. Sure, they’d chalk it up to the big shift taking all their energy. Or being tired after a big old meal. Anything to keep the truth of the matter from being known.
A few moments later the bouncy head of wavy curls bounded back in, smile brighter than ever, and a big shape in their arms. The plush was larger than any of the ones they sold in the store, and it looked old. “This is one of the prototypes. I’ve been looking for someone to take care of it. They're gonna be doing some spring cleaning around here and I don’t want that one going to some garbage dump.” Teddy lied. If anyone tried to remove one of their plushies except them, there would be a fit. But that didn’t mean the demon wasn’t free to give ‘em away if they felt inclined. “Whadaya think, up to the challenge?”
—
“I’d love to hear your story, too, someday. If you ever wanted to tell it.” Wasn’t it a lovely thing to have in common? Being saved by the same creature, being protected by something most people assumed was either a myth or a monster? If Big Finn had saved this shopkeeper the same way it had saved Cass, she figured that gave the two of them some kind of… quiet alliance. Some kind of unspoken connection. Maybe they could kickstart a club, the two of them — a group of people rescued by Big Finn who could hang out in folding chairs and share their stories. It was a fun idea.
It seemed the shopkeeper agreed that their shared experiences made them, at the very least, buddies. Cass grinned, nodding her head adamantly. “Definitely buddies,” she confirmed. And then, they were saying that she deserved more than the little plushie she was buying, and her face lit up a little. This person, she thought, probably had access to the good stuff.
She bounced as they disappeared behind a corner, a bundle of excited energy as she waited for them to return. It was certainly worth the wait. The plush they returned with was far better than the small one she’d grabbed off the shelf. It was large, and it looked soft. More than that, it looked cared for, like it had belonged to someone else for a long time. People complained about hand me downs, sometimes. They talked like things passed down to you from someone else were worth less than things you bought new in the store. To Cass, it seemed like the opposite ought to be true. A hand me down meant that someone cared about you enough to give you something they used to love. Was there anything more wonderful than that?
“Definitely up for the challenge,” she breathed, taking the plush as it was offered to her. It was just as soft as it looked. She couldn’t wait to set it up in her cave, right next to the thin sleeping pad she slept on. “This is the coolest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. You’re the best. Honestly.”
—
"We'll make an official club meeting, and we can swap stories!" Teddy knew the instant they remembered their side of things, they wanted to hear hers. As for the demon's own, maybe they'd come up with some fanciful tale, or maybe even tell her the truth. Who knew? So much of Teddy's personality seemed to shift with the weather. Maybe that's why some saw them as fickle, but hey, when you constantly changed little bits of yourself to better fit the needs of those around you, shit tended to get a bit muddled from time to time.
Her delight was more than enough to fuel Teddy on, to make the demon want to do this kind of thing over and over and over again. Made them want to get to know this girl and see what made her shine so brightly. Enthusiasm was infectious, and Teddy loved nothing more than to watch someone talk up something they were excited about. Their pride and the way it swelled only made this encounter that much better. She couldn't have known. And maybe it was better that way. Teddy hadn't really met too many people in the reverse order. Monster first, fun sized friend shape second. They had to wonder if it'd be a disappointment. Finding out that old magnificent beast was actually just some guy.
"Oh well I try to be." The best. Hah. Good. Teddy's smile hadn't faltered as their mind raced, but it did grow at that. "Before you go, here's my number and my social media stuff. That way we can make Big Plans to talk about Big Finn." A soft hum escaped the demon's lips, until a realization hit like a baseball to the gut. "Oh! I'm so rude! I didn't even introduce myself. I'm Teddy! It's lovely to meet you, miss…?" They gestured outward, tilting their head as they waited for her response.
—
For someone so desperate for any kind of connection, meeting another person who shared a story about a giant sea monster saving their life felt like a jackpot for Cass. She was practically bouncing with excitement, the idea of a ‘club’ only intensifying the feeling. After all, she’d never belonged to a club before. A group of people bound together by a similar interest… The closest thing she really had was the Allgoods, which… didn’t entirely qualify. Not wanting to go to jail for murdering a girl probably didn’t count as a common interest.
Still grinning, she took down the stranger’s social media and number, eager to continue the friendship. When they introduced themself, she let out an amused chuckle. “Oh, right! I guess I didn’t say, either. I’m Cass. It’s really nice to meet you, Teddy. I’ll definitely keep in touch.”
SUMMARY: After bickering online, Cass decides to get a little payback on Conor. she immediately regrets it.
CONTENT WARNINGS: none
continue reading...
The florist sucked. Maybe not as much as the guy with the insurance and the stupid jokes, but still. He’d called Cass stinky, and she wasn’t. She washed off in the lake every day! Just because the stupid florist couldn’t smell the stuff coming from the mines didn’t mean it was Cass’s fault.
Most of the time, she tried to resist the more… chaotic impulses that came with being fae. But in this particular case? The stupid sucky florist had it coming. She could let loose, just this once. She wouldn’t actually hurt him or anything! Just his dumb flower shop. That was all.
It was easy enough to find. She still couldn’t figure out why he’d given her the name, but she was glad he had. Cass wasn’t a detective or anything, and she probably would have lost interest in the whole ordeal long before she was able to find the flower shop on her own. But the guy told her where it was, and that was good. For her. Bad for him.
Breaking in was easy. Most locks didn’t stand much of a chance against lava, and this one was no different. But once inside, she hesitated. The flowers were kind of pretty. It felt mean to burn their home just because the guy who owned it sucked.
A noise from behind her spooked Cass, and she jumped as she turned around. The magma that dripped from her hand and into the vase she stood next to wasn’t intentional… but that didn’t stop it.
-
The light sound of the front door bell could have woken Conor up on its own, but it was the red cat jumping off his bed to rush downstairs that completely got him out of bed. “God fucking damn it,” he mumbled, running his fingers against tired eyes. Reaching for his woolen cardigan, the faun took a look through the window. The street looked quiet. The street lights were out, there was nothing in sight.
He never was quiet himself, his hooves always a bit too noisy for his taste. And so, he always looked as if he was wearing 1 inch block wooden heels on his shoes. He was rather short, people never questioned it which he was grateful for.
He heard his cat’s mrrrrp of joy, and his eyebrows furrowed. That usually meant hello, from what he had observed so far. And then, there came the sound of something sizzling. What the hell was going on ? Heading down the stairs, the florist clicked his tongue quietly, hoping that would summon the cat back to his side, and turning the light on in the backroom, picked up a pair of sheers before he dared confront his company. “You need to leave, now,” was his voice always so high pitched?
—
It was a cat! Cass took a moment to stare at the creature in wonder as it approached her, making a tiny little noise that drew a gasp from her lips. She’d only ever spent time around feral cats in the past, and while some of them could be friendly if you were around them long enough, none had ever made this noise. Not upon first meeting, and certainly not to her. She shook what remained of the magma off her hands so she could lean down to touch the cats fur, cooing softly. “Hi there,” she said, rubbing its ears. They were soft. Most of the feral street cats she’d met had been matted, with patched of fur missing. This one wasn’t.
So distracted by the cat, she didn’t register the heavy footsteps until they were accompanied by a voice. Letting out a quiet squeak of surprise, she fell forward towards the voice. Just close enough to feel a fluttering in her stomach, the kind that meant — oh, no. The guy who owned the flower shop was fae?
The feeling of meeting another fae was one that was supposed to come with euphoria, but for Cass, it always came with a sharp sense of fear. Fae always figured her out right away. They looked at her and they knew, and even if she told herself she didn’t care if Flower Shop Guy liked her, she was terrified of the idea that he might tell other people, too. The cat darted away as Cass’s glamour dropped without her meaning for it to, her heart pounding in her chest. No, no, no.
—
He held one arm to his chest, his other hand holding onto sheers. There was a certain discomfort underneath his skin, in his chest, whenever fae were around. What kind of fucking fairy infested town was that? Conor came here for answers, not for the local goddamn fairy congress. Answers, he had found none so far. Fae? Quite the handful. What the actual fuck kind of dried shit ass luck was that? “You’re fucking kidding me?”
Conor wanted her out of his damn shop, whoever she was. Stepping out of the backroom, the faun looked at the flaming figure of the other fae, with, he hated to admit it, fascination. She looked like a will-o'-the-wisp had met a volcano. By her side, on the floor, one of his vases seemed to be filled with molten lava. She really meant every word of her threats, didn’t she? Sure, she must have been unaware that he lived upstairs, but who the fuck just commit arson out of sheer spite ? “What the fuck? What the…” He saw the cat climbing up on the counter and jump onto his shoulders to seek shelter. His heart was racing now in panic, in anger, his face distorted with disgust and disappointment : “You come into my house, terrorize my cat,” who still didn’t have a name, “all because we had a disagreement ? Are you fucking kidding me? You called me stinky because I tell you not to poison yourself with candles. You called me stupid, small brained. And now you wanna burn my fucking livelihood?” The faun didn’t step forward. She seemed to be made of fire, and he wasn’t a fighter. He was loud, he spoke a lot of shit, but at the end of the day, he made bouquets for a fucking living. “Just fuck off,” he shook his head.
—
The florist didn’t seem particularly excited to see her, which was a sentiment Cass guessed she could understand. She had broken into his shop, after all, had come here with the intention of causing some damage after their less than friendly online encounter. Still, the fact that he was fae and was so unhappy to come across her stung a little. It reminded her too much of her aos si back in Hawaii, of the buzz that came with being around another fae and the way it always went hand in hand with rejection.
He was looking at her and at the vase she’d filled with magma, and her heart was pounding in her chest. She wanted to lie, to say it hadn’t been her who’d done the damage even if it was obvious that that wasn’t true, but she’d never been good at lying or the less than pleasant side effects it carried along with it. “I wasn’t terrorizing your cat,” she said instead, offense clear in her tone. “And I didn’t know this was your house! Who lives where they work? That’s stupid.” Big words coming from a girl who lived in a cave. “You were being mean! And — And you said I was a liar, and I’m not. And I didn’t even mean to get lava in your stupid vases, but now I’m glad I did because you are stinky and your brain is small!”
—
“My apartment is upstairs,” Conor didn't share her outrage. This was just a fact. The shop came with an apartment above and a garden in the back. The only thing he worried about was that someone else would snatch it before he did. Eyes set on the deformed vase, he watched the lava turn black, with a near bored expression on his face. He'd never been too expressive, he knew that. He could get angry, he could raise his voice, but most of the time, things didn't feel enough to gain a reaction.
“I said that if you need to light more than one candle because your place smells, then you should consider opening a window,” these were all facts to him. He wasn’t sure why she took it as an insult, but he supposed she did, because the next thing you know, they were calling one another stinky, criticizing noses and aprons and what not. All because she asked about how many candles one should lit up. One was still the correct answer. “I was not mean, I was factual, and I don’t appreciate you saying that I have a smelly house when I absolutely do not. It’s not my fault your house smells and I was just trying to be helpful, but now you’re pouring lava in my vases and scaring my cat, and honestly scaring me too. You’re in my fucking house in the middle of the night and you’re calling me stinky and small brained and I want you to leave.” He stopped, finally, to take a breath, his eyes wide and fixated on her.
—
“Well that’s your fault, not mine.” Did the comeback make sense? No. Neither did her outrage, for that matter. He hadn’t even really done anything to her, and certainly nothing worthy of this ire. But he was rude to her, and he was fae, and maybe some small part of her ached when those two things were put together. Maybe some small part of her couldn’t help but be reminded of a childhood full of people who were supposed to love and protect her doing the opposite instead. None of that was this florist’s fault, but he was here and they weren’t so he could hold it for her, anyway.
It felt okay, anyway. The anger that burned in her chest with the same intensity as the magma that had dripped into the vase, the way it warmed her when nothing else ever seemed to. No one ever liked it when Cass got angry back in Hawaii. They always got wide eyed, like they were afraid of something. Like she was wrong for being upset that they all treated her poorly. She’d learned to swallow that anger as a result, to make herself small and easily digestible. And maybe it felt kind of good to let it out instead, even about something stupid. “You said I stink,” she replied, still furious. “And I don’t. I don’t stink! Neither does my house! I don’t even have a house, so how could it stink?”
It took her a moment, with her own anger, to register that it wasn’t really rage that was driving him. It was almost like he was afraid. And that was the realization that made Cass stop, finally. She took a step back, folded into herself like a house of cards. She’d scared his cat. She’d scared him. That wasn’t something she liked to do, wasn’t what she wanted. An apology stuck to her tongue, unable to escape from behind her teeth. Behind her, the vase cracked, leaving only the lava that had hardened inside it to take its shape instead. Cass felt similar, somehow.
—
His eyebrows furrowed. Conor knew that he didn't always make a lot of sense but she couldn't blame him for having the audacity to live where he did. She was the one trespassing with the intent to burn it all to the ground.
Sure, he shouldn’t have criticized so vehemently her candle habits but he was the sort of person that couldn’t deal with half truths. Candles were dangerous or not dangerous, but there couldn’t be an inbetween. There were a couple subjects he was willing not to be so definitive about, in terms of opinions, but that could be narrowed down to subjects he knew a lot about.
Whatever it was she was upset about, Conor didn’t feel responsible for it, but that didn’t mean he felt nothing at all, or didn’t notice the shift in her behavior. That’s when he set the cat down on the counter and approached her as quietly as his feet allowed him to. Even with the glamour, hooves would always sound like hooves. What was the point of hiding now anyway? He dropped his own disguise as well, lowering down to his knees to look at her more closely. Her appearance was the strangest thing. They looked nothing alike, but they shared this much: they looked absolutely nothing normal. “I’m a fucking goat, if anyone has to worry about smells…” He sighed, and his gaze was drawn to the vase to her side. He didn’t dare touch it yet, but even then he could see that it was quite the sight. The lava had taken a much darker color now, near obsidian. He didn’t care much for rocks, but he had to admit that it was pretty. “What do you mean you don’t have a house?” That he could relate to. He had run off when he was 14. If he had eventually found work and a roof in a farm, the months he had spent in makeshift shelters… Those clung to him like scale insects did orchids.
—-
He was walking towards her with heavy steps, the sound echoing through the flower shop. Cass barely noticed his approach, having worked herself into a tizzy with her frustration and her anger. It was only when his glamour dropped that she stopped, blinking as she looked at him. She’d never met a faun before, but she’d heard of them. Back in the aos si, she’d been taught about most types of fae despite the fact that few of the adults there wanted anything to do with her at all. She might have been a problem, but she was still fae. That meant she had to know their history, their culture, even if she didn’t particularly want to know any of it.
He looked different than she’d always imagined fauns might; it was a hard thing to conceptualize in your head without a visual reference, after all. “You don’t really smell much like a goat,” she offered him, voice quieter now. He really didn’t stink. She’d just been upset when she’d claimed he had. Of course, it was hard to tell if anyone stunk with the current state of the town. Maybe he smelled more like a goat when the rest of the town didn’t smell so strongly.
She flushed a little at his question, averting her eyes with the realization that she’d said a little too much. She had a bad habit of that, of letting her anger get the best of her and exploding in a way that she didn’t always mean. Part of the volcanic modifier of her volcanic oread status, she supposed; things built up until they erupted, and the resulting lava flow was pretty indiscriminate with what it destroyed. “I mean I don’t have a house. There’s not a lot of ways to mean that.” Dancing around the question. Very fae, very wrong. She felt a little guilty for it.
—-
Sitting down on the floor, he didn’t attempt to cross his legs, instead tucking his hands beneath his thighs. Her quiet plea brought a slight grin to his face and he nodded along. He supposed he didn’t smell so bad. She didn’t either, though the town was a different story. His shop was still mostly spared, being filled with all sorts of essences and flowers. “I suppose you don’t need to light up too many candles either,” he countered.
—
He regretted making comments about that, especially now that she was admitting to not having a place to call home. “So you’re homeless.” It was a statement, not a question. He recognized that sort of shame, even though she tried to dance her way around the facts. “I’m sorry. I know what it’s like,” he moved his hands from underneath his legs, crossing them over his chest like a blanket. It wasn’t in his habit to share details about his life, with anyone, but especially with strangers. If he probably could have reached out, given her a pat on the shoulder, Conor was never good at those things, and he just tried to look at her instead.
Part of him wondered, if just like him, she had been forced to leave her home because she looked so different from her parents. “Shit, well now I really feel bad about everything I said,” he admitted with a bitter tone.
Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all. She’d met worse people, anyway. Maybe she’d even met worse goats, though she didn’t think she’d met many goats at all. But he was certainly a lot better than many of the fae she’d spoken to throughout her lifetime. None of the nymphs who’d cast her out would ever go back on something they’d said that hurt her feelings; most of them were far more prone to doubling down on it.
Sniffling a little, she lowered herself down to sit across from him, the warmth of the hardened magma from the broken vase making her feel a little more at home. “I have a cave,” she protested softly, though she knew it wasn’t the same thing. No matter how much she might insist otherwise, a cave wasn’t a home. All her life, she thought the closest she’d ever come to a home was sleeping on the floor of Kuma’s living room, and she’d ruined that. She ruined a lot of things. The broken vase beside her seemed like proof of it.
She let out a watery laugh as he said he felt bad, shrugging a shoulder. “Me, too,” she admitted. “I’m sorry I scared your cat and broke your vase. And burned the lock on your door. And told a bunch of people you stink.”
—
“A cave?” He took a moment to register what he was hearing. He’d slept under bridges, in haylofts, broken into basements to find some warmth. The Boston Area didn’t have many caves though, lest he wanted to break into Boston Common to find an eventual one. He’d never lived in a cave. That seemed a lot more hostile than the environments he’d found, though Con supposed bridges had to be the worst he’d done. It was a different time though, and people took pity or were more than happy for the cheap working hands. It wasn’t too long before he had a job on a farm, and a room in the attic.
His eyes turned toward the door. She had carved a perfect curve into the glass, where the handle and the lock used to be. “How many people did you tell that to?” Conor could change a vase, or a lock, and the cat seemed to be fine now, but convincing people that his hygiene was as good as theirs ? “We really have a fucking shitty temper, ey?” It was his turn to laugh. Yep. They certainly did. He wasn’t sure they’d properly get along just yet, but maybe they didn’t have to hate one another.
—
“In the woods,” Cass confirmed. He might not be a nymph, but maybe he’d met enough to understand what it meant. Humans found it strange that she lived where she did, like there was something wrong with it. But fae, for all their faults, should at least get it. Shouldn’t they? It was the only part of being a nymph that Cass felt she was really good at, the only part of being fae that she didn’t feel guilty for.
Following his gaze to the door, she shifted a little. She felt bad about the lock now; her method of breaking and entering was a little heavier on the breaking than most. There was no way he’d be able to get away without having the door repaired, and Cass certainly couldn’t offer to help him pay for it. “Uh…” She trailed off sheepishly. “I don’t remember. A few.” Pretty much everyone she’d had the chance to. But in her defense, she’d been pretty sure he was stinky. And he didn’t seem particularly angry about it now. Cass was good at telling when people were angry; it was a defense mechanism you picked up quickly when you were a kid living on the streets. “I guess we do,” she sighed. “But at least it’s not just me.” It was kind of comforting, the fact that his temper seemed to be a little worse than hers.
—
“The woods.” Conor didn’t understand why that was supposed to be better. He felt like she was trying to convey that. The cave wasn’t just some cave, it was in the woods. He supposed it was better than the cave being lost in the mountains, or near the sea, in a bog or a hundred feet underground… Perhaps this was all she meant. “Wouldn’t you prefer being in a house? It mustn’t be comfortable, or terribly clean,” not to bring back to the table the matter of people’s smell, but surely living in a cave didn’t offer many opportunities to take a daily shower. He’d never liked showers much. Baths were nicer, but they took too much water and he forced himself to take showers instead.
“A few? C’mon,” the faun rubbed at his forehead, grimacing as he imagined what a few people could represent. “Heh, no point telling them it’s not true,” Conor didn’t particularly care for what others’ thought of him, though he cared enough not to show anyone what he looked like, usually. “I don’t suppose you can fix my door,” he didn’t even ask. It seemed unlikely that she’d be able to do anything about the mess she had made. Conor wasn’t sure what he was gonna do about that. His insurance company was never going to believe him, and he figured it’d cost less to just replace it.
—
Her face fell as it became clear that, despite being a goat, Conor didn’t understand the inclination of living in the woods. She tried to hide her disappointment as she looked back to the hardened magma and the broken vase, rolling her eyes a little sullenly. “Oh, yeah. Let me just go to the house store and use my free house coupon.” Even if she wanted a house, she’d never be able to afford one. It was so much easier to just… not want one. It hurt less. “I like the cave. It’s not uncomfortable, and it’s cleaner than some people’s houses. There’s a stream that goes through it, and it has lots of rooms. It’s nice.” And she was able to draw power from it, but she decided to leave that part out. He’d get the wrong idea, somehow.
“You were being mean!” Cass said defensively. “What was I supposed to do?” She’d probably still tell people it wasn’t true, even though he said she didn’t have to. She felt bad about it. She didn’t know any other way to make it up to him. Looking back to the door, she shrugged sheepishly. “I can’t really unburn something, can I?” Fae magic was cool, but not that cool. You couldn’t undo something once it had been done. That was just life.
—
“There is no such thing as a house store. I mean, there is, but it’s not called a house store, and they probably would go bankrupt if there was such a thing as free house coupons,” he pressed his lips together, his eyebrows curling in worry. She knew that, right? No one could be so clueless. He followed her gaze, approaching his hand to the block of lava, carefully. It was still a bit warm. He wondered how long it would be before it was completely cold. “It looks nice, you know,” it had destroyed his door, and his vase, but he couldn’t deny this much. It looked nice.
“I was not being…” He held his hand against his stomach. Right. Lies. “I’m sorry.” He was. He should not have gotten so intense over her use of candles, but he felt as though the blame was shared here. They both had a pretty damn shitty temper, didn’t they? She had burned through his door to get into his house, and he didn’t think it too awful to call her stinky online. Still, one felt worse than the other to him. “You were not supposed to come here to try and commit arson, that’s for certain,” he pointed out. Getting back up on his feet, the faun returned to his concealed appearance as he pushed the door open, taking a look at it from the pavement. It was a goddamn mess, and now he’d have to sleep in his shop to keep people from entering. Tomorrow, he’d put a wooden plank over it and try to find someone who could replace the door for him. “I really could have done without replacing the damn door. You do know that’ll cost me a lot of money, right?” Probably not. Someone who had nothing clearly couldn’t care less about other people’s property. “That was not okay,” even if she was upset, even if he was mean to her. With a sigh, he stepped back inside. “Don’t you do that ever again,” it was in those moments you could tell he was a lot older than he appeared, and the scolding in his eyes certainly highlighted that.
—-
“That was a joke,” Cass replied, deflating a little. Jokes weren’t nearly as funny when you had to say that they were jokes to make the target audience understand them, and she was a little disappointed that hers hadn’t landed. It was a classic joke! She’d seen a variation of it in a TV show! He should be laughing right now. Glancing back to the block of hardened magma, she hummed. “It always does. People are so scared of it. They miss how pretty it is.” That was the thing about volcanoes; people got so caught up in the destruction of them that they turned them into horror stories. There were disaster movies with volcanic eruptions at the center, tragedies marked by flowing lava. People liked to turn things they didn’t understand into something sinister, but that was rarely ever the case. The volcanoes were there first. It was humans who’d built cities and civilizations around them and then screamed when they did what they were always going to do.
She was a little surprised when he apologized, though maybe she shouldn’t have been. Now that she was here, she could recognize that he was pretty reasonable. He wasn’t yelling, wasn’t calling the police, wasn’t doing a thousand different things that he probably would have been well within his rights to do. Cass shrank into herself just a little, shrugging a shoulder. “I shouldn’t have done that,” she agreed, because it was true. She’d overreacted just a little, so afraid of rejection that she’d gone to an unnecessary extreme. She shifted, following him sheepishly over to the destroyed door. It was definitely not something that could be repaired. “I’m sorry.” How much did a door cost? She couldn’t exactly offer to pay for it, and he probably knew as much; she had just admitted to living in a cave, after all. Shifting her weight between her feet, she fixed her gaze on the ground. “I promise I won’t burn your door again,” she said dutifully. It was the kind of promise that was harmless because she meant it. She had no intention of repeating what she’d done here tonight; Conor was nice. She shouldn’t have done it to begin with.
___
“Ah.” It must have been the late hour of the night.
Conor looked away from the younger fae to stare at the block of volcanic stone. “You can’t blame people for that,” he knew people would be scared of him if he showed them what he really looked like. Anything that struck them as abnormal, anything that struck him as abnormal. Conor knew he wasn’t the bravest guy around here but he wasn’t one to let people get hurt either, and Cass looked like his first words to her had wounded her. He didn’t like that. “They don’t know that we exist, and they don’t like novelty,” they sought the comfort of the roads well traveled, and he couldn’t blame them. Conor, just like them, wasn’t brave, and he too preferred to stick to the things he knew : flowers, plants, his violin, his mom, his shop, his cat that he only named 2 months after it showed up on his doorstep, out of fear that it would disappear.
“Yeah, you really shouldn’t have fucking done that,” he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to keep the door closed now, but he would have to figure something out until the next morning. It was nothing he could solve now.
She promised not to touch his door ever again and he chose to believe that. She sounded like she meant every word of it. She sounded like she meant every word she had spoken ever since she got in here. A whole lot were not pleasant, but Conor knew a lot of his words, which he also meant, had not been pleasant. They were even now, and he was ready to make a friend.
SETTING: outside the hospital
TIMING: last week
PARTIES: @rn-zane + @magmahearts
SUMMARY: zane gets into some trouble with an angry passerby. luckily, it's vigilante night for cass.
Being back at the hospital had felt like finally taking a breath after way too long underwater. The noise and chaos, the conversations and even the bad coffee had been a blessing, leaving Zane with a goofy smile at the end of his shift despite how much his leg currently hurt. It was a strange feeling, being completely wiped out while your body felt like it could go on for ages. As much as it had started to bother him to be at Alma’s house, he was looking forward to a good meal and a completely brainless netflix session.
Walking out the staff entrance, he was greeted with the brisk night air and a jittery stranger desperately sucking on a cigarette. Zane tucked his head down and turned, which did nothing to deter the stranger. “Hey! Yeah, you. Hospital guy.” The vampire only made it a few steps before the back of his bag was pulled on, forcing him to stop and turn. The man’s eyes were uneven, sweat pearling on his skin and blood was drying on his shirt. “I’m sorry, I have to get home. Someone inside can-”
“No one will help me inside,” the man interrupted, taking a step closer and forcing Zane back, hands raised in a display of submission due to the anger in the other’s voice. “They brought my girlfriend in here hours ago and no one will tell me where the fuck she is.” Zane blinked, watching carefully as another drag was taken from the cigarette. The cigarette held in scuffed hands, knuckles red with the clear signs of blood and bruising from a punch. A shiver ran down the vampire’s spine as he remembered the young woman who’d come in earlier tonight, clearly under the influence and badly beaten. It wasn’t fear that was making Zane bristle. It was anger. “You’re not going to see her,” he bit out and turned, moving briskly away before he did something he’d regret.
The man clearly didn’t have the same worries as Zane. Once again, his bag was tugged at, hard enough to make him stumble back a few steps and perhaps not surprisingly, it was followed by a fairly heavy punch to the face. Jaw aching, anger (and instinct) took over and for the first time in his life, the nurse found himself punching someone square in the face. Regret was instantaneous; not because this guy hadn’t deserved it but because his nose started to drip with crimson red. Shit.
—
Cass — or, rather, Magma, since that’s who she was tonight — didn’t usually venture out to this area. There was more than enough crime in Gatlin Fields and Worm Row to keep her busy, but lately there’d been a pit in her stomach every time she patrolled the area. She couldn’t stop thinking about the death pit in the Fields, couldn’t stop remembering the way they’d thrown Debbie’s body down, down, down, couldn’t stop replaying the clumsy eulogies in her head. She didn’t feel much like a superhero anymore. She wanted to fix that. She didn’t think she could do it close to home, close to the pit.
So… she changed things up. Made her way over to Deersprings instead, far away from the stench of the pit that seemed to follow her everywhere she went. She swore she could still smell it, even here, but she knew it was in her head. She just needed a good distraction, a way to shake herself loose from it.
She found it in the form of an altercation outside the hospital. An angry, disheveled man accosted another man in scrubs, yanking him around by his bag and punching him in the face. Definitely, absolutely a good distraction. Selfishly, she was a little excited about it. It was difficult to think of a death pit and the body you’d thrown into it when you were saving some medical professional from being punched a second time.
Even if the medical professional in question wasn’t exactly helpless. Cass blinked as the man reared back and punched the assailant himself, unsure how to proceed. It must have looked at least a little weird; she’d run over to help, but she hadn’t dropped her glamour just yet, which meant she looked like a teenager staring wide-eyed at an altercation between two grown men. After a moment of uncertainty, she grinned. “That was a pretty good hit!” She said, flashing the nurse a thumbs up. “I was going to see if you needed help, but it looks… Whoa, are you okay?” He looked a little… weird, staring at the blood dripping from the other man’s nose with a strange look on his face.
—
Truthfully, Zane had been hoping for someone else to step in and diffuse this situation. It had already been heated enough to start with, just by the presence of someone who was clearly violent and not sober, but now with blood and anger that didn’t even really feel like his own… Someone else hadn’t included a teenaged girl however, no matter whether or not she was wearing a mask. Somewhere buried deep, a sensible thought reared its head that this was dangerous for a normal person to walk into, especially one so young. Finding the right words to get her out of here was extremely hard however, when it felt like there was nothing but a growl lodged in his throat.
“This is none of your business, kid. Fuck off,” the stranger growled, voice pinched due to his broken nose which he was attempting to wipe with the back of his sleeve. Zane felt nailed to the ground, unable to respond even to the worried question coming from the girl. It wasn’t until the man moved, quickly and erratically, that the vampire was lurched into action as well. It was hard to decipher anything from his thoughts at the moment as they were more like whispers and feelings, hissing about food and protect and anger. Whether or not the man had intended to hurt the young girl or just scare her off seemed irrelevant.
It was a flurry of movements, none of them fully registering until Zane blinked and found himself holding the man up against the study building wall, blood now seeping from the back of his head as well. The sound in the fairly quiet alley took a moment to register as coming from him, the low snarl so completely unrecognizable.
It was enough to snap him back for a second, remembering the other person standing just a few feet away, his grip in the man’s jacket loosening. Before he could do more, compose himself, anything, the man had managed to scramble around in the nearby dumpster and grab at a metal pole from some discarded household item. No matter how many times it had happened, the heavy weight against his head didn’t feel any less disorienting than the other times, coming dangerously close to knocking him out if not for the low rumbling of animalistic anger keeping him conscious.
—
The guy — not the nurse, but the man who’d attacked him, the man who smelled like an alleyway she’d slept in for a while in New York and looked like the people who’d stumbled by said alleyway at two in the morning — barely acknowledged Cass for a moment, and it was still enough to make her feel small. And she hated that. She hated that she was supposed to be this proud, strong, mystical thing and could still be made to feel tiny by angry men with loud voices, hated that she’d worked so hard to make herself into something after years of feeling like she was nothing and could feel it all melting away the moment someone snapped at her. It was stupid.
It was worse still that the nurse was here to witness it, because she thought he seemed nice. She thought most people with the patience to work in hospitals, where men like this one must have been very common patients, seemed like they had to be pretty nice to put up with it all. And she liked that he’d punched the guy, too, even if it only seemed to make him angrier. She thought people like this probably deserved to be punched. She thought she probably wasn’t supposed to think that.
The world burst into movement, but not from the man who’d attacked first. It was the nurse who was a flurry of limbs, so fast that Cass could hardly keep up. In a matter of seconds, the nurse had the other man pinned to the wall and was — growling? She thought of Metzli, and a few things began to slowly slide into place.
Cass took a step forward, ready to try to talk the nurse down because no one needed to die in this stupid alley just like no one had needed to die in that dark supermarket, and she was so tired of death where death had no place being. But before she could step in, the vampire seemed to come back to himself and the other man saw his chance and took it. A metal pole, a blow to the head. Why did it always come down to this?
She didn’t even mean to drop her glamour. It was instinctive, at this point; a Pavlovian response to rushing headfirst into danger. When she was Magma, Cass didn’t keep her glamour up. When she was Magma, she was invincible. Cass didn’t know how to handle this, but Magma did. So the glamour dropped, and the oread stepped forward. “Get the fuck away from him!” Her voice was distorted, gravely and crackling. Live lava flowing through a field and into the sea, throwing up sparks as it went. The man with the pole dropped it, shock and terror clear on his face.
—
All this head trauma couldn’t be good for him, vampire healing or not. His ears were ringing where he’d sprawled down onto the ground, everything before his eyes blurry. For a presumed apex predator, Zane really was a shit one. The first attempt to push himself up went horribly and the second one was halted by the sudden glow around them, visible even to his blurry eyes. Blinking rapidly in the hopes of seeing what in the world was going on, he heard the commanding voice, if it could even be called a voice. His eyes adjusted finally but not before his body was instinctually scrambling back, away from the source of searing heat.
What stood between him and the aggressor was no longer a teenager wearing an eye mask. It was… fire and earth in the shape of a human. Zane faintly registered the clang of the metal pipe falling to the ground, too transfixed on the sight in front of him. Protecting him, it seemed. Even after he’d all but chomped on the man. Probably a good thing that he’d snapped back to his senses just in time or he might have been the one staring, terrified, into the face of… whatever she was.
It hadn’t been conscious, the decision to scramble away from heat and possible fire, every nerve in his body screaming that it meant danger, but by the time the other man snapped into action and bolted, Zane had pulled himself as far away as possible with his back now resting against the opposite wall. He could vaguely feel the gash on the side of his face from the pole, a wound that should have been gushing with blood but after this girl’s display, there probably wasn’t any need for pretenses of being normal, right? “Thank… thank you,” he stuttered out, carefully prodding at the wound on his head and wincing. Hoping that his thanks weren’t premature and he was the next to face down this person of boiling heat.
—
She felt the vampire behind her scramble backwards, felt a twinge of hurt at it. Was he afraid of her now? She still remembered Kuma’s face the day she’d accidentally dropped her glamour, the day Kuma had kicked her out with terror etched into her expression. You’re some kind of a monster, and you never said! What is this, Cassidy? Did he think the same now? Would he run before she could turn around and talk to him? People did, sometimes. It was rare that she saved someone and got to have an actual conversation with them after. No one ever wanted to stay and chat.
The man who’d attacked the nurse certainly didn’t, though Cass felt no disappointment when he ran away. She didn’t mind scaring the bad guys. In fact, there was something undeniably exciting about that, some quiet thrill that she pretended not to cling to. She shouldn’t love terrifying them, but she kind of did. Maybe it would make the guy think twice before hitting anyone with a metal pole again in the future.
With the bad guy gone, all that remained was the vampire nurse. Cass was almost afraid to turn around, scared that she’d see the same terror that Kuma had held in her eyes. But instead, she heard the man stutter out a thanks. A thanks she knew she should release him from, but held onto all the same. Maybe she could use it to help him someday. That was what she told herself; it sounded like a lie, but lies only hurt when you said them aloud. “You’re welcome,” she said quietly, putting the glamour back up with a quick squint of concentration before approaching him. “Are you okay? Your — Your head. What do you need? I want to help.”
—
Despite the surreal appearance of the stranger, Zane found his apprehension bleeding away the second she turned. There was nothing threatening in the way she held herself or looked at him, a stark contrast to the demeanor that had easily scared off the other man. And then, almost in the blink of an eye, the young teenager appeared again. He really needed to learn more about the things that lived in this town.
As she approached, he made a feeble attempt to sit up straighter, bringing on another violent dizzy spell. Once everything stopped spinning, he got a good look at the girl. Definitely young, possibly eighteen but it was hard to tell with that mask on. She was worried, speaking in rapid fire that took a few moments for his mind to really register. His mouth felt dry when he finally spoke. “I’ll be fine. Just…” What do you need? Zane trailed off because he knew what he needed right in that moment but he’d given in to that urge with Jonas and the guilt from that still lived heavy in his mind. Not to mention that this was a young stranger. That smelled surprisingly enticing underneath the faint scent of burning coals - stop it. “I just need time, it will heal.”
It took a few tries but he finally managed to whip his backpack off, pushing it over to the stranger. “You can dig up some gauze for me if you don’t mind. Don’t wanna… terrify people on the walk home.” It was still unspoken, the fact that a normal person should have been bleeding profusely and definitely rushed inside the ER just a few feet away. She wasn’t human and something told Zane she was smart enough to have clocked the same fact about him. “I’m Zane, by the way. And I don’t make a habit out of getting into fights, just so you know. Even though it has been happening a weird amount lately…” Was he rambling? He was rambling. Man, his head hurt.
—
He didn’t look afraid of her anymore. Even before her glamour came down completely, the fear seemed to leave him. There was something breathtakingly comforting about it, like the wind had been knocked out of her in the best possible way. She didn’t want the people she was saving to be afraid of her. The people she was saving them from, maybe, but people like this? Nurses who were just trying to get out of work without getting hurt? She didn’t want to scare him.
Even if he was a vampire.
She studied him carefully, thinking of Metzli and the few things she’d learned from them. She knew the basics of vampires even before she’d met them, of course — that was one subject that the media she consumed often got right, and the bits that it got wrong she’d found out for herself through years of living on the streets. Vampires had fast healing, so he probably really would be fine. He might be fine sooner with blood, but… Cass didn’t know if fae blood worked the same as human blood when it came to vampiric meals, and she didn’t want to offer hers if it might only make things worse. Something told her he wouldn’t know the answer, either. He gave her the vibe of someone who was far newer at this than Metzli was. She made a note to ask them this question later, just in case there was ever a next time.
Leaning over, she began digging through his bag. “Do you have… food at home, Zane? I, um, I think that helps. If you didn’t know that already.” He probably did. She’d noticed he walked with the slightest of limps, a sign that this wasn’t his first time being hurt. She doubted it was his first time being hurt as a vampire, either. “I’m Cass. And, uh… I kind of do make it a habit of getting in fights, I guess. But only to help people. People like you. Which I hope I did. Help, I mean. That guy was — he looked really mad, and I don’t think he could have killed you but that doesn’t mean you should be hurt, either, so I’m… Yeah. I hope I helped.” There was no head injury to excuse Cass’s rambling; only anxiety and the overwhelming desire to make Zane like her.
—
In a strange way, it was comforting that Cass seemed to have some idea what he was, judging by her hesitant question. It meant he wouldn’t have to answer any questions at the moment about not bleeding, being stronger than normal and literally growling at another person. Zane nodded at her question, mouth still feeling dry and his tongue heavy, but moving his head wasn’t really a good idea either. Eyes shut for a moment as pain rolled over him, passing quickly but incapacitating him for a moment all the same. He didn’t want to be thinking about food right now, not with Cass so close and smelling much different than anything he’d ever noticed before so the change in discussion was very much appreciated.
Her words registered slowly, the rambling and his foggy mind making everything settle together at a snail’s pace. A habit of getting into fights to help people. She was kind and most likely reckless but maybe not so much considering how her… other shape had looked. Intimidating, hard to hurt. If Zane had the ability to transform into something other than an unhinged, bloodthirsty creature he couldn’t quite control, wouldn’t he have stupidly ended up doing exactly what Cass seemed to be attempting to do? Helping people? “You definitely did,” Zane reassured, mustering a smile and grabbing the bandaging once it had been removed from the bag. Whether she’d inevitably helped him or the stranger more was unsure. Zane was glad either way and mustered a weak smile for her as he started to messily wrap up the wound on his head.
“That’s, uh… that’s really noble of you. Trying to help people. Dangerous though but you’re obviously not just a regular person so maybe not.” The chatting was a good distraction, both from the pain and the smell, and the fact that Zane needed a few more moments on the ground before he would make an attempt to stand up. “Is it okay if I… if I ask what you are? I’ve never seen anything like you before, it’s… you’re really impressive.”
—
He was definitely in pain, and this was the part Cass was bad at. She could fight danger when she could see it, could make people run away or drop what they were doing, but she couldn’t fix them once the damage was done. Not in the way she imagined Zane must be able to. If she were smarter, she thought, she would have wanted to be a nurse, or a doctor, or something like that. Something that could fix people when they were broken. Instead, she did this. She did everything she could do to try to stop them from being broken to begin with. And she wasn’t always successful, but maybe it mattered that she was sometimes. Maybe sometimes was all she could really strive for.
Zane said she helped, anyway, and Cass smiled at the words. He probably wasn’t that much older than her, but his approval felt just as good as those few times she’d been able to ring something similar out of the older fae in her aos si. None of them were ever as open with it as Zane was being now, though. Hesitantly, Cass took a step forward to watch him with the bandage, trying to figure out if there was more she could do. Did he need help wrapping it, or packing it, or any of those other things they talked about on TV? She might not be a medical professional of any kind, but she’d seen Grey’s Anatomy and Scrubs. She knew some things.
“It’s not too dangerous.” Her stomach clenched with the lie, and she tried not to think about Debbie. She hadn’t even been out as Magma that night. Maybe it would have ended differently if she had. Zane made no move to stand, and Cass made no move to leave. She could walk him home after this was done, she thought. Make sure the guy who’d attacked him wouldn’t come back. It would be nice. “I’m a nymph,” she said, more open with it than any of the fae she’d ever known would have preferred her to be. “A kind of fae that’s tied to nature. I’m an oread, which means I go with rocks and mountains. Or, um, volcanoes, specifically, for me. And you’re a vampire, right? How long have you been one?”
—
Zane was thankful for his savior sticking around and not only because he was curious to know more about her. Even though he probably wasn’t going to pass out, the slight chance of it was worrying and he definitely didn’t want any of his coworkers to find him out here. It would lead to questions that he didn’t have normal answers to, not to mention it would inevitably delay him getting home to feed. The thought of that was terrifying - being dragged back into the hospital, getting hungrier by the minute, around all of the wounded people and healthcare workers… Shaking the thought away, he tucked in the end of the bandage. It would do until he got home. At least he wouldn’t be walking the streets with a gaping, open head wound.
Focusing on her explanation, Zane racked his brain for a pop-culture equivalent of what she was describing. The closest he came was remembering Tinker Bell so he gave up. “Wow,” he breathed, genuinely amazed, his expression portraying every bit of it. Maybe that had something to do with why she smelled so different. “That’s… wow.” Questions sluggishly came to mind but Cass seemed to have a few of her own as well. “Yeah, guess you know more about this stuff than me.” He smiled sheepishly, shifting slightly to test the odds of standing up. The ground wasn’t spinning quite as violently as before. “It’s just been a few months. A few very weird months,” he admitted before finally making an actual attempt to stand up.
One hand braced against the wall as his feet pressed into the ground, dizziness making him sway for a moment before it passed. “Uh, what about you?” Talk through the pain, through how much some blood would help right now. “Is the…” His free hand waved as Zane dug back for the word, “whole nymph thing something you’re born into?”
—
A few months. He really was new to this, then. The closest comparison Cass could think of to relate it to was her experience of being removed from her aos si and forced to live in the human world for the first time on her own, and even that didn’t seem like a fair comparison. After all, she’d known a little about humans before she’d been thrust into their world, had a fascination with them that had caused quite a few of her problems to begin with. If Zane had been like most humans before he was turned, there was a pretty good chance he hadn’t even known vampires existed. To go from thinking something was a work of fiction to being that thing yourself… Cass could only imagine how strange it must have been. A few very weird months seemed like an understatement.
Hesitantly, Cass hovered close to him as he swayed, trying to decide what she should do if he fell. She wasn’t sure she could carry him anywhere, and dragging him seemed like it’d be a bad idea. Maybe distracting him from the pain was the best bet. “I bet it was weird,” she said, trying to keep him talking. “Going from being human to being something else. Did you know about any of this before? Did the person who turned you stick around to explain at all? I guess I don’t really know what’s normal for vampires in that, um, situation.” Metzli’s sire, from everything Cass knew, had been awful, but was everyone’s? Surely not, right?
Smiling just a little as he turned the question around on her, Cass nodded. “You’re only a fae if you’re born a fae,” she confirmed. “One or both of your parents needs to be one. Usually they both are because, um… A lot of fae don’t really… like people who aren’t fae. But my mom was human.” Is human? She didn’t know if her mother was alive or not, didn’t know where she might be if she was. But that wasn’t really what Zane was asking about here, was it?
—
If not for the lingering fear of ending up hurting the young girl, fae or not, Zane would have asked her to steady him for a walk towards the street. As it was right now, he didn’t dare have her come much closer than she was at the moment. Cass was kind, sympathetic, and even though the fact that she seemed to run along at night like some vigilante worried him, Zane found that he definitely liked her. “It’s been an… adjustment. Is an adjustment,” he replied honestly, finding it easy to open up when she was being so honest herself. At least she seemed honest but his tendency to see the best in people wasn’t always a hundred percent right. “But yeah, I’m part of a group. Or a clan, it’s sort of like a family but… well, less like a family than I thought it would be. But I’m not completely alone so there’s that.”
Aside from Emilio, Zane hadn’t really divulged his apprehensions about his clan to anyone. Chris had accidentally found out that the vampires he was reluctantly looped in with weren’t exactly the nicest bunch but aside from that, it was a worry he was so far carrying on his own. It felt nice to say it outloud, to just admit that the situation he’d stupidly gotten himself into was far from perfect. Disclosing it to someone who was still by all definitions a stranger and probably wanted nothing to do with this information was maybe not the best call but Zane was really just trying to focus on the positive right now.
As Cass spoke, Zane finally relinquished the safety of the wall and to his surprise, stood pretty balanced. It was shocking that no one had yet joined them here in the dark and he wasn’t really willing to test his luck on that. One hesitant step followed another and he relaxed. His head was still throbbing but at least walking seemed to be on the table for now. “Sorry to hear about your mom,” he said softly, having taken note of the past tense Cass had used. Then again, there was a possibility that her mother was alive but no longer human. “I know what it’s like to be without parents so really, I’m sorry.” Did she have anyone in town? If there were more vigilante fae like her, odds were he would have run into them at some point. Was she hiding this nighttime activity from her family or was she alone?
It was a relief to reach the street, cars passing and people bustling about, Cass’s smell mingling in with everything else the town had to offer. Under normal circumstances, Zane loved the walk home after a shift, giving him time to ruminate over everything that had taken place. Now, with his leg aching and head searing, a taxi seemed like the best idea. Hailing the closest one down, he turned back to Cass. “Thanks again,” he said, smiling softly. “I would love to… I don’t know, buy you a coffee or something? Not really sure what the protocol is for paying someone back after they save you from a man with a steel pipe.”
—
A group? Cass wondered if it was at all like an aos si, full of like people coming together. She’d often longed for what an aos si was supposed to be, often thought of the community she’d missed out on through her wretched inability to belong to the people she was supposed to belong to. Did Zane ever feel like that? Was that what he meant when he said it was less like a family than he thought it’d be?
Oftentimes, she felt as though there was something inherently wrong with her. Otherwise, why had life played out the way it had? Why hadn’t her aos si accepted her, why had she found nowhere to belong in nineteen years of trying? But if Zane was having trouble fitting in with his clan as well, if someone who seemed kind and nice and helpful couldn’t quite find his place in a group of people who’d chosen to bring him into its fold in a pretty permanent kind of way, maybe it meant that she wasn’t entirely at fault for her lack of belonging. It was always easier for her to see the positive in someone else’s situation than her own. Optimism was born when the two situations were similar enough to make a comparison. “Do you like them?” She asked the question carefully, casually. Like nothing at all hinged on the response. It wasn’t a spoken lie, but it burned in her throat all the same.
Zane seemed to be able to stand on his own two feet even without the support of the wall, and Cass found some relief in that. It was a good thing; it meant he was already healing a little. She didn’t know enough about vampires to know quite how fast their healing worked. Metzli seemed to get into enough scrapes to suggest that she’d end up figuring it out quickly if they continued their ‘friendship’ with her, though Cass wasn’t confident that would be the case. Eventually she was going to have to release them from their promise, and despite their claims that she wasn’t as bad as they’d originally assumed, she doubted they’d stick around for long after. No one ever did. Shrugging at the mention of her mother, she looked away. “You don’t have to apologize. I never even met her. I don’t even know if she’s still alive or not. She just… didn’t want me.” She shrugged again like it was nothing, like it didn’t mean anything, like it didn’t still sting. It wasn’t important anymore. Maybe it never had been.
He thanked her again, and she knew she should tell him a little more about fae, knew she should warn him about that kind of thing so it didn’t come back to bite him in the ass later on, but she didn’t. She was so much more selfish than she wanted to be, sometimes. So much more selfish than she ought to be. Heroes weren’t supposed to do things like this, but she tucked the gratitude away anyway. “You’re welcome,” she replied with a small smile. “Coffee would be fun, I think. But after you’ve healed up a little. I don’t know if you’re supposed to drink caffeine when you have a head injury or whatever.” They never talked about that subject on Grey’s Anatomy.
—
It was such a loaded question, despite the ease in which Cass had asked it. Did Zane like the people he currently lived with? Who made sure he was fed and all things considered, were people he would be spending an indeterminate amount of time with considering the whole immortality of his new situation? As if his pause before answering hadn’t been answer enough in itself, Zane found himself blurting out the truth under his breath. “Not really.” His face portrayed just how little interest he had in elaborating, even though he knew he’d be spending the next few hours by himself just going over what this all even meant.
He listened to her answer and despite still feeling woozy, Zane was adept enough at reading body language to see through her casual tone. Of course she was hurt. Not meeting your parent didn’t mean you wouldn’t yearn for them, think about what could have been. It didn’t mean that you wouldn’t feel abandoned which he could painfully relate to. “Hey, well, her loss, right?” he replied softly, going for uplifting even though one sentence would hold little power against a lifetime of feeling left out.
Cass accepting the offered coffee made him feel a little more at ease. Even though Zane had plenty of his own shit to deal with, he wanted to look out for her. Probably saw a little bit of himself in the girl and as much as he hoped she currently had someone looking out for her, he couldn’t count on it. Not yet, at least, so he wanted to make sure. If not, at least she had a vampire with a truckload of baggage on her side now. “Eh, caffeine never hurt anyone,” he joked, hesitating as he wanted to offer a handshake but worried about feeling the warmth of her skin. So he settled for a gentle punch to her shoulder which he immediately regretted, shaking his head awkwardly before getting into the taxi. “Hey, uh… be careful out there.”
