#and *obviously* thinks bad ghosts fucking around are an utter disrespect????

[honibumii]

Am I the only one who kinda is w Skully on the whole "banishing bad ghosts stuff" or

[hankwritten]

The Weight of Other People’s Thoughts

Demoman/Soldier, 2k

Request for @lilythedragon05, Scotland

It was a bad idea to follow that tugging cord at the center of his being, the one that called him to Ullapool, and he never would have dared to entertain it if he knew it would have brought him here.

Jane sat by the ocean, stone’s throw from the town, but his distasteful frown kept his eyes locked firmly ahead instead of gazing dubiously at it. What had he been thinking? Coming to Ullapool had only make him feel worse, not better, a smirch against Tavish’s memory if there ever was one. Rubbing in Tavish’s face that he’d never go home again—and here Jane was, free to frolic across the whole damn planet, even if it took him to stupid countries ending in ‘land’.

He leaned further over his knees, barely feeling the sea breeze as he thought about his dead friend.

His murdered friend, he reminded himself. Murdered by someone who he thought he could trust, who now had to carry that guilt with him for the rest of his life.

Everywhere Jane looked it reminded him of Tavish. Maybe that’s why he’d come: self-flagellation. Appropriate punishment. Or maybe he was so desperate not to forget, he’d take the pain that came with remembering. Torturing himself truly, since he could look on the hills and surrounding coast that he had once only known through enthusiastic descriptions, see for himself the places where a young Tavish had played with dummy-grenades. He could imagine him talking to the local shopkeeps. He could practically see him walking up this very path, groceries in one hand, a newspaper filled with fried fish in the other as he took a large bite out of it-

Wait.

Tavish stopped dead, his face enveloped in utter shock. Still mid-chew, he said, “Jdra-ne?”

Jane leapt to his feet. “Apparition!” He pointed an accusing finger at the offending spirit. “Do not think for a second I will be cowed into repentance by the spectral manifestation of my guilt!”

Tavish nearly choked as he tried to swallow his bite of fish. “I…what?”

“Ghosts serve no purpose on my journey to recovery,” Jane continued. “Not even ones that look like my dead friend! Be gone creature of the other world!”

“What I- I’m not bloody dead.”

Jane squinted at him. He definitely didn’t look dead, totally opaque, no fettered chains representing his sins in life and his guilt over failing to help his fellow Man.

“…Are you sure?” Jane pressed.

“You’d think someone would know if they were dead,” Tavish grumbled poignantly, now glaring at Jane for some reason.

“I killed you though. It was-” -pickaxe right through the sternum, crushing, all the red bits coming out when they should have been in- “That was definitely fatal.”

“Aye, was, but I managed to limp my was back into Respawn range. Took a better part of an hour, but I made it.”

There was something odd to Tavish’s voice, something he wasn’t saying, but the realization that he might actually-seriously-really be alive was starting to set in and Jane was too afraid to believe it.

He took a step closer, past the bench he’d been enjoying his solitude at and completing a full circle around the Demoman. Tavish’s head followed him all the while, up until Jane came to a stop in front of him. “…Promise you are not a ghost?”

“I’m not a ghost,” Tavish said, as convincingly honest as he’d always been. Not that his acting skills hadn’t covered for his mendacity before-

-no, no that was a trick, it all turned out to be a lie a damn lie-

“Fine then. You’re not.” Though Jane would keep his eyes peeled for phantasmal anyway. “What the hell are you doing here then?”

“I live here,” Tavish huffed. “Gravel Wars are over, wasn’t going to spend the rest of my years in some blighted desert. Better question is what are you doing here, yank?”

Crap. Well, maybe a half-truth would suffice. “You always talked so much about Scotland I thought…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I wanted to see what all the fuss was about.”

Tavish stood there, one hand still clasped around his groceries. The moment dragged on, vast seas of unsaid things between them, of regrets still festering, to which he ended with, “would you like me to show you around?”

Jane looked down, trying not to stare at his shoes but instead at the foreign soil around them. “…Sure. Why not.”

“Everything is incredibly vertical,” Jane complained as they climbed up yet another hill Tavish insisted was part of the journey.

“Aye, that’s why they call it the Highlands, BLU.”

Jane hated how fucking smug he sounded. Hated, and missed it all the same, missed how this bastard could set a fire in his gut just with one of his damn smiles.

“And there she is,” the Demoman said proudly as the crested the final ridge.

“Damn. Really went to crap in the last couple centuries.”

“Oi, don’t point fingers at me! I’ve only been around for forty of those.”

DeGroot Keep was shriveled and hunchbacked since Jane had last seen it, folding under its own legacy as ages had eaten the tallest spires first and chewed its way down to the cob. Still, he could just make out the choke points, the parapets, the places he used to go charging into with his mêlée weapon held high—all sanded down by the years, the vaguest memories of control points where a portal in time had briefly allowed Jane to witness their existence.

“So what,” he asked, following Tavish into the slight dip in the Highlands where the Keep nestled, “you live in here like some sort of anti-Italian?”

“An anti- what now?”

“Anti-Italians! Despises sun, allergic to garlic, doesn’t show up in mirrors, no sex life. Basic literary reference, RED.”

Tavish rolled his eye. “No, I’m not squatting in the dilapidated castle. Got a perfectly nice home down in the village, I just happen to have inherited this along with…all the other crap.” He waved his hand. “I’ve considered shelling out to having it restored but…dunno. Seeing it go from its heyday to this makes me think that in another couple hundred years it’ll just fall apart again.”

He sat on a piece of tumbled rock, one that used to hang over the Keep’s gate, a bright and shining keystone now used as a stool. Jane joined him.

“Don’t get much of this at home, do you? Old crap. Yer country’s still a wee babe you know, nothing’s even falling apart yet.”

“Incorrect!” Jane amended. “There are plenty of old things in America!”

“For last time lad, Thomas Edison wasn’t immortal, and he didn’t be build a second Shangri-La under Pennsylvania Avenue.”

“Your statements reveal both your ignorance and your compunction, but I was actually talking about mounds.”

“Mounds,” Tavish repeated dubiously.

“Yes! Mounds! Fourteen hundred years ago Americans were building ceremonial mounds in order to track celestial events! They look like animals from the top, lynx, bears, fish, all that crap. I used to walk next to this bird one every day on the way to school.”

Tavish blinked at him, tilting his head. “No offense Jane, but including Native people usually isn’t in your worldview. Where’d you even learn all ‘o that?”

“My mother taught me, so think insinuating more cyclops—lest you show disrespect against her memory and I am forced to take out your other socket!”

Tavish raised his hands defensively, but there was a smile creeping at the corner. “Alright, alright, I get ye. A Mum’s honor is a serious thing.”

“Hm. Good.” Jane glanced ahead, suddenly afraid of lapsing back into silence, as though Tavish would start to slip away from him if they did. “How is your mother?”

“Ah…she passed some years back.”

“…I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s alright.” Tavish paused. “I still see her sometimes.”

“Metaphorically or…?”

Tavish glanced at him, but then away just a quickly, as though frightened of what he might see. “I’d rather not talk about it, if that’s alright with you.” Instead, he stared ahead, the sun setting between its cradle within the mountains. “Heh. At least there’s something that’s the same no matter where you go. Always a sunset.”

“Guess so.”

Still, Jane found he liked this one better than the ones back home. At least, better than all the ones he’d seen before he’d met Tavish.

The next day was spent in the village, and Jane couldn’t help but yearn for more of Tavish’s time, more of his attention. His friend. His friend who was still alive. Tavish had a kind word for every person they passed, all of whom didn’t seem to notice Jane at all, simply starting up a conversation with their fellow local and submitting to the rhythm of the morning. Breakfast was some sort of potato scone, but Jane wasn’t hungry, so he just walked beside Tavish as the other man ate. They found themselves at the same bench where they’d first run into each other.

“So,” Tavish asked. “Ullapool everything you thought it would be?”

“Hm. It’s…nice. It is obviously not perfect for geographical reasons entirely outside of its control, but. I understand how it made you the man you are.”

“Me? Nah.” Tavish wiped off his mouth with his sleeve. “I made myself like this.”

Again, he wouldn’t look at Jane, wouldn’t say what they were both thinking. That things had gone wrong, that they had both fucked up. One of them more than the other, but Jane had found him again, and maybe they could still figure something out, still have time to unearth all that they had deemed too dangerous and buried in the sand.

Jane reached forward, and put his hand over where Tavish’s was resting on the bench.

And watched it pass straight through.

Jane sprang away. “I knew it! I knew you were a ghost!”

Likewise, Tavish stood up sharply. “I am not. I bloody told you I was’t.”

“Liar! I will not be swayed by any more perjury from your ethereal mouth!”

“I’m not lying!” Tavish snarled at him, his eye dark and narrowed, burning hotter than the words would imply. “I never lied. I never wanted any of-”

“Blasphemy!”

“Would you just listen for-!”

“You cannot guilt me apparition! For I know that-”

“Shut up! Just fucking shut up!” Tavish’s fist closed around the neck of his scrumpy bottle, half drained before noon, and threw it full force at Jane’s head.

Jane raised an arm to block the incoming blow, but the impact never arrived. A second ticked by, then two, then three, and slowly he lowered his forearm to reveal the panting Demoman behind it, shoulders heaving and an inscrutable expression tearing across his features.

“How’s that for the truth you bleeding idiot,” he said.

Jane looked to Tavish, then rotated his neck slowly, staring at the bottle that had landed in the grass behind him. He blinked, willing what he was looking at to make sense, to suddenly disappear and go back to where things were a second ago. To believe he hadn’t seen that bottle connected with his own nose.

There was something he didn’t want to do, but he did it anyway, turning his gaze forward inch by agonizing inch, staring down at his own hands. Fully taking how translucent they were.

The moment shattered, Tavish tore his eye away. “Fuck. Fuck I’m sorry. I shouldn’t’ve…”

Jane was still looking at his hands. There was panic, deep and overwhelming rising within him, but there was no raised pulse to accompany it, no sweat on the back of his neck.

He lifted his chin to Tavish. “What? I don’t…”

“I didn’t die,” Tavish said thickly. “You did. I killed you and I walked off and you just bled out for who knows how long and-”

-the pickaxe but also a sword, just as deadly buried two feet into his chest and the man above him trying to shove it in a few extra inches, strangled screaming as it pushed deeper-

Jane hadn’t been paying attention to the last half of Tavish’s muttered confession. The Demoman was crying now, pawing furiously at his one lone eye as stared out valley below them, looking anywhere but at Jane as his sclera turned red.

“I’m sorry,” he sputtered. “Christ Jane I’m so fucking sorry. If you came to haunt me or whatever I just- I just want you to know that you can’t hate me more than I hate myself. That it’s been killing me every day since.”

He collapsed on the bench, curling away from Jane as he buried his face in his hands.

It could have been some sort of trick. A ghost bottle or…no Jane wouldn’t even try. He attempted to remember what flight he had come in on but couldn’t. He grasped for how many years since the Gravel Wars had ended, and couldn’t find the answer.

Jane was a ghost, yet everything still hurt as much as it had when he had lived. Immaterial, and he still so badly wanted to touch Tavish’s hand.

He sat on the bench next to him. “I didn’t come to make you feel bad, Tavish.”

“Then why did you come?” It sounded like it was meant to be venomous, but instead it only sounded empty—empty and wet with tears, like a plastic bag trampled into a puddle.

Jane looked down at his hands. His useless, ghost hands that he could still knit together. “I…I wanted to see you,” he said truthfully. “I missed you.”

Tavish looked at him, bleary-eyed. He whispered, “I missed you too. So damn much.”

“Whatever I was doing before, I missed you enough to come here. To someplace I thought you would be.”

A panicked jolt crossed Tavish’s face. “You’re not leaving, are you?” The same man who a moment ago thought Jane had come to smother him with guilt was despondent at the idea that Jane might go after all, that he wouldn’t get a chance to hurt himself with his own regret anymore.

“No, no not yet,” Jane said. He tried his best to wrap and arm around Tavish’s shoulder. The mortal shivered where their skin met.

“Okay,” Tavish said quietly. “Okay. Good. Thank you. I don’t think I can…When I saw you sitting up here I couldn’t believe it could be fore something good. That the only reason you’d want to haunt me would be because you hated me.”

“I don’t hate you.”

It was true. Even though he remembered now, remember lying there, thinking how they’d killed each other, Jane had only ever hated the man who’d believed the TV’s lies.

“I really did come because I was thinking of you. Missing you.” Jane paused. “Today was fun. I’m sure you have a lot of other places to show me, right private?”

“…Sure. Sure whatever you want.” Tavish wiped at his nose. “I’m sorry Jane.”

“It’s alright Tavish.” He held his head in the crook of Tavish’s neck. “I’m sorry too.”

[corpse--diem]

Exit Interview | Rio & Erin

TIMING: A few days after the fire  PARTIES: @3starsquinn & @corpse–diem SUMMARY: In front of what’s left of the funeral home, Erin struggles to clear up Rio’s questions in an impromptu employee meeting.

Orion still felt shaky on his feet. He hadn’t meant to leave the hospital in such a hurry. If his stupid dad hadn’t shown up, he could have gotten a full nights rest. Instead, as the sun slowly started to peak over the horizon and Rio still hadn’t gone home after blowing off his father and any nurses from trying to stop him. He had slowly brushed past them as if they hadn’t been standing there in the first place, out into the night air. He had been wandering ever since, a numbness lingering with him that kept him from paying attention to where he had been going. But eventually it had been obvious. He had taken the same path a hundred times on his way to work. The remains of the funeral home finally came into view, and Rio paused his steps for a moment to get a look at the place. It hadn’t burned down completely. The structure itself still stood despite bad damage to it. But more shocking than the funeral home was the person standing outside of it. “Erin?” Rio questioned, quiet enough that only he could hear until he had been sure that it was her on the yard outside of it. “Erin,” Rio repeated. He picked up into a jog at first, but immediately stopped when his legs groaned in protest. Clearly he hadn’t been completely healed. He attempted to stuff the hospital gown away that he had walked out of the hospital with. He had tried hiding it with the pants and hoodie he had hastily put on, but the edges of the gown still poked out. “You’re not in the hospital anymore? Are you okay?” Rio finally asked when he got close enough to her.

The funeral home wasn’t the first place Erin had gone after she’d gone to the hospital. Every time she thought about unfurling from the safe space Nic’s bed had become, she slouched harder into the sheets. But she’d made it here, eventually. Insisted on going alone to process this on her own. It was surreal standing here, charred wood and yellow caution tape filling her every sense. Even now, too, the smoke was enough to water her eyes. “Fuck me,” she grumbled, a growing dread of the work that would need to be done hanging over her like a rain cloud, heavy and dark. They could rebuild. If she made it out of this, they would rebuild. It could be… worse? A voice pulled her from her thoughts, a familiar one she hadn’t expected to hear so soon. “Rio?” She turned quickly, concern lighting up her eyes. “Yeah. Fine. I’m fi--” she started, shook her head. Her arm wasn’t fine and it felt like she’d smoked twenty cartons of cigarettes though that hardly seemed to matter right now. She took a step towards him, the unmistakable blue “Are you? Did you--did you just get out?”

She didn’t look happy to be there, but obviously Orion had a pretty good guess why. The funeral home had been important to Erin, that hadn’t been hard to see. Not only had she lost her business, but her home. And then on top of that, knowing that Roland had died here. Was he still here? Rio knew that the body would have been recovered, but he couldn’t stop thinking about how Blanche had seen his ghost. The thought made Rio pale even further than he already was. But still, despite all the pain and loss, Rio was still concerned about how Erin was processing everything. “I guess that was a dumb question. Of course you’re not fine.” Rio sighed, cursing himself for not being better with words. He barely knew how to console himself, how could he possibly begin to try to make others feel better? “I uh- yeah. Let me out early.” Or something. There was enough going on right now. If Rio told Erin about how he had left because his dad made Rio terrified for his life, that’d only add to the stress that Erin was going through. “I was going to head home to sleep but I… I don’t know I guess I just wanted to stop by here. Try to make sense of it all.” Rio squated, ignoring the way that his leg muscles protested the action. He stared at the rubble. Just days before, the place had been whole. And now it seemed almost desolate. He hadn’t expected to run into Erin here, but now that he had all he could think about was the door. The way that it had been locked, barricaded even. The events were still fuzzy in Rio’s mind, but not enough to completely forget them. “It wasn’t an accident, was it?” He knew the answer before asking, but that didn’t mean he didn’t dread it. He hadn’t even wanted to ask it. But with running into Erin now it seemed like the best chance. Maybe the only one.

“It’s not dumb,” Erin shook her head, giving him a half-hearted smile to show she appreciated the concern. She was more worried for Rio at this point. Her time at the hospital had been relatively short and she hadn’t had the time or energy to check in on him as much as she should have, and she knew that. Felt it now too as she watched him, no doubt reliving the horror behind his eyes. She froze at his last question. It was something she should have expected coming, and she knew it was, but when finally faced with it--and the look on his face when he asked it--utter shame warmed her cheeks, reddening her features to the point where she had to look away. “You should probably sit,” she gestured towards the grass, a little ways away from the house. It really wasn’t safe to be as close as they were, for Rio especially. She kept her eyes on the grass as she stuck her hands into her back pockets. Rio had endured enough from all of this to earn some honesty from her. “And uh--no. It wasn’t. Someone did this to me on purpose,” she grimaced, glancing back up at the house, then to the grass again, trying not to picture Roy’s stupid fucking grin flashing behind a cloud of cigar smoke for the millionth time. “It’s a long story, and maybe one day I’ll be able to tell you the whole thing but please know--I never, ever intended for you to get caught up in this.”

Being instructed to sit was never a good sign. It almost certainly meant bad news was coming. He should have expected it obviously, considering this all started with their place of work burning down and all. More than that, this place was more than just a place of work to Erin. It was her home, her career. The thought gave Rio goosebumps, and he tried ignoring them as he found a spot on the ground. Readjusting to fix the hospital gown that bunched up around the waistline of his pants, Rio used it as a distraction to try to hide how uncomfortable he was. He couldn’t seem to pick between glancing over at Erin or staring at the remains of the home. Neither seemed right. Erin confirmed what seemed obvious, that someone had done this on purpose. Rio nodded silently, trying to process how anybody could do something like this to a person. “Yeah, of course. I never would have thought you were trying to.” Rio waved that thought away. Erin had but nothing but generous to Rio. Aside from their initial meeting going less than smoothly, Erin had taken a chance with Rio and had always stayed patient through training and made sure he could handle the job despite Rio having never worked a day in his life before this. “I don’t understand. Why would anyone do something like this to you? To a funeral home.” That in itself seemed pretty disrespectful. “You don’t owe me the story or anything, I'm not trying to pry you for information. I just… We could have died in there. That person tried to kill us. Does that mean they’re going to try to hurt you again?”

The cool grass underneath her felt good when Erin settled down across from him. Truth be told, she was too tired and achy to be doing too much anyway. She’d come to assess some of the damage, maybe try to pick out some of her things that had made it out unscathed, but it all felt daunting and exhausting the longer she looked at the remains. “Probably,” she answered nonchalantly, nodding at his question. Roy wasn’t done with her yet. This little period between was likely just a breather--he probably thought he’d won, or squashed her enough that she wouldn’t fight back, but in no way was this over. She pulled her knees up against her chest, watching him for a moment. “Neither of us should probably even be here right now, if I’m being honest.” Paranoia, for sure, but she had good reason to be. “This wasn’t about the funeral home. I mean, it was, kind of--but my dad got my family involved with some bad people before he died. Then I went and pissed them off. As you can see,” she gestured towards the building with a humorless laugh. It took a moment but she met his gaze again, despite the slight twinge of guilt that came with it.

Orion crossed his arms. He was angry. Angry that this person wanted to hurt Erin and was willing to kill people to do it. Angry that Erin’s entire life had been in that fire. Angry that he hadn’t been able to do anything about it. More than that though, Rio was terrified. Because as much as he wanted to help, he knew he had nothing to offer. Back in that fire he had just barely gotten that door open. If he had been quicker, maybe none of them would have ended up in the hospital. That police officer may still be alive. If Rio had just been smarter with his abilities, he may have heard the door being barricaded and stopped the fire from ever starting. Instead he had been completely useless. “Oh.” Rio stated, unsure what else to say. He had no idea what bad people implied or how that carried over to Erin, but he was pretty sure that she was staying intentionally vague. “That oh sounded bad. Sorry. I’m not like judging or anything.” Rio hardly had any room to judge. His life revolved around being complicit in illegal acts. Whether that was keeping his psycho family life from the authorities or keeping his best and friend the person he was dating’s murder sacrifice to himself, Rio clearly was in no place to question someone else’s decisions. “But this is dangerous stuff. I don’t want you to get hurt. Nic knows about this right?” The one confidence that Rio had was that Nic was there to look after her. Erin didn’t seem like the type that needed much protection, but when she did it was good to know a trained hunter had her back.

Rio was quiet for a long time and it unsettled Erin more than she expected it to. Sitting here trying to explain, even vaguely, why he’d endured such a horrific trauma--and that it was in no uncertain terms her fault--burned a righteous new shade of shame right through her. “I mean, I wouldn’t blame you if you did,” she shrugged. “It’s a lot of… well, it’s just a lot.” It was more than she could wrap her head around some days. “He knows, but I can take care of myself. I know it looks pretty bad, and right now it’s the worst it’s been, but I’ve got a good group of people helping me with this. People who want to take him down just as much as I do. He’s hurt a lot of people.” She bit her lip. Roland. Rio. Blanche. Jane. Marley. Nell. Bea. Her own mother. And those were the names she could spout off at the top of her head. Didn’t even include the countless others from Pat’s or the damage he’d accumulated over the years. “We’ll get him. He’s got a lot to pay for,” she promised. Her vision fell to the blackened building next to them again, narrowing slightly when bits and pieces started falling back into place from the other night. “Can I ask you something?” She asked, turning sharply back to Rio, a hint of suspicion already in her voice. “Not so much of an ask, actually, but I couldn’t help notice the way you demolished that hardwood door. With your bare fists.”

Orion was sure that Erin could protect herself. Better than Rio was able to protect himself probably. And he even had super strength backing him up. But despite the fire and the serious threat, Erin seemed surprisingly calm. Rio wondered how she did it. Rio barely knew the situation and he was terrified. Looking at the charred building in front of them scared him. How did she keep her cool as the target in all of this when Rio was just barely holding himself together. “It’s hard to feel better knowing that he’s hurt a lot of people.” Rio admitted. The more people involved in taking him down was good, he supposed. But if he had so many victims, how much power did this man have? “Let me help too. I- I don’t know what I can offer. But I can’t just do nothing. Not knowing what he did.” Rio didn’t even know what he could offer to Erin, but he had to try. He had been guilty of doing nothing for far too long. He needed to start actively trying to make the changes he claimed to believe in so passionately. “Oh. That.” Rio itched at his neck, forgetting about the giant burn on it and wincing at the sudden pain. He had hoped that the chaos of the fire would brush past that moment and Erin would forget about it completely. Did she knew about hunters? Did she know about Nic? “I guess you wouldn’t believe it if I told you it was just adrenaline, huh? You know people that like lift cars to get their babies and stuff?”

“No.” The word jumped from Erin’s lips, stern, sure. Zero hesitation. Even with the inkling that there was something more to Rio’s abilities than he had let on, this wasn’t an environment he needed to be in. The proof was right beside them in all of its smoky glory. “Not all of us made it out of that building, Rio. It was a close call for those who did. Too close,” she reiterated. Obviously he knew. Obviously he was dealing with that on his own, but it bore repeating now. Blanche and Rio’s smoky, terrified faces. The desperation in Rio’s grip as he hugged her, apologizing to her as if he’d lit the flames himself. The crack of the floor as it gave way beneath Roland. None of them would ever forget any of it. “I get why you want to help but I can’t--” she cleared her throat, shaking those horrifying memories burning behind her eyes. “I can’t let you be near that. I never should have risked you being in that house to begin with everything going on. It was stupid and irresponsible and I am so sorry.” An apology didn’t feel like enough, would never be enough. Not to her. Not for this level of trauma--the kind that stuck with you, years after it happened, if it ever left at all. Still, it was all she could do for them outside of making good on her word, making this all right. “I’ll take care of it. You just take care of yourself, okay? You and Blanche both. That’s all I need you to do.” She couldn’t help but wince when he did. Another solid reminder that they were better off away from this and from her. “Probably not,” she said, shaking her head. Watched how uncomfortable he suddenly seemed and she felt guilty for prying. “You don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want to. But you might be surprised at the kind of things I’d believe if you did.”

Unsurprisingly, Erin was quick to shut Orion down. It didn’t come as a shock. He didn’t come across as the most reliable. He was clumsy, easily frightened and didn’t typically handle violence very well, just to name a few. That didn’t stop him from crossing his arms in defiance and chewing on his cheek while pouting. “I’m already near it though, right? I mean this person… whoever it was, tried to kill me.” Yet for some reason, Erin blamed herself for that. “You don’t have to be sorry. They did this. Not you. Whatever your issues are with them- that doesn’t excuse trying to kill someone. That was their choice.” And they sounded like an awful person. “Yeah, didn’t figure you’d believe that.” Rio sighed, knowing that Erin wouldn’t ask anymore if Rio refused to give an answer. But what was the point in that? Rio was tired of all the secrecy. “I have uh- certain attributes. Like special abilities or something. Not to sound too comic book hero. Enhanced strength is one of those.”

“That’s exactly my point, Rio. You haven’t done anything wrong and you almost died just because you were here, in this house, when he decided to show up. Imagine if you were actually on his radar? What if he came after you, or Blanche. For real this time?” Roy didn’t give shits about who or what burned down, that was painfully clear. Age was irrelevant. Rio and Blanche were circumstantial victims. Collateral damage. “The people who get pulled into this get hurt. They die. That’s a fact. I can’t be everywhere at once, I can’t protect--” Erin stopped short. The pouting only emphasized his age right now but if the fire had proven anything, Rio had shown he was capable of more than she ever realized. “I just meant that I can’t have something else happening to you over my head. That’s still a line I won’t cross.” It was a selfish demand, she knew that. One that was wrecking the relationship she’d built with Blanche when she’d told her to stay away. It wasn’t something she’d back down on either way. This wasn’t their battle and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be the one that could take them down. Rio seemed to be taking it better than Blanche, anyway.

The smallest amount of relief came with Rio’s insistence that it wasn’t her fault eased a bit of the ache in her chest. Not by much, and it didn’t change her mind, but it helped to know she hadn’t lost a third person to that fire. Her eyes narrowed suddenly. Enhanced strength? Special abilities? Sounded eerily familiar. Erin still had a ways to go but she did know a few people, once that also had beating hearts, who were strong enough to punch a hole through a solid wooden door. “Like… a hunter?”

How could Orion even dispute what she was saying? Was he supposed to claim that he could protect himself? That if this mystery man came knocking things would be different than they had been in that fire? These powers of his were just as useless as he felt. Super strength meant nothing when he could barely find the resolve to knock down a door. Rio was supposed to be enhanced and wasn’t convinced that he could withstand a strong wind. Mentally or physically. “But if you’re constantly worried about protecting others then who is going to look after you?” Rio wished that he could be that person. Maybe just once, Rio would welcome a fight if it meant keeping Erin and Blanche and others safe. But even if he was willing to, would he even stand a chance against someone who willingly burnt down a funeral home with people trapped inside.

Erin was familiar with hunters, which didn’t surprise Rio. She was dating one after all. “You’re uh… familiar with them I see.” It was safe to assume that Erin knew about Nic then, right? Rio figured he shouldn’t say anything just in case. “But yeah. Sort of.” He didn’t like leaving it at that. Hated agreeing with anyone that associated him with that word. Eventually, it bothered him too much and he had to say something, “Um. I don’t though. Hunt, I mean. Just so you know. I never wanted this. I just wanted to be a normal kid.”

A sort of sad smile crossed Erin’s face at Rio’s question. She didn’t put a lot of weight or faith into what ‘good’ or ‘bad’ meant anymore but if she were to put Rio in either slot, the choice felt obvious. He was a kind, smart kid with a big heart who just wanted to help. Outside of needing immediate help, it was one of the biggest reasons she hired him on with almost zero experience. Working beside him all of these months only proved her hunch right. “I’ve got people,” she assured him. “Very capable people. It’s why I’m so sure we’re going to get him. For you, for Blanche, for Roland. For everyone he’s hurt.” Whatever it took.

Erin understood, could even relate in a way - being thrust into a world you didn’t want to be a part of but didn’t have a choice. It was a relief knowing he didn’t act on those inherent abilities of his thought. The closer she grew to the kind of folks on the hunted end of the spectrum, the more her opinions on hunters soured. And if Nic knew Rio, their association at least made a little more sense now. “Even more of a reason to keep you out of this,” she said. As much as she could from here on out, anyway. “Good for you though. Seriously. You’ve got to do what feels right to you, even if it’s not the popular or obvious option.” It was hard to picture him, knife in hand, even if he wasn’t an active hunter. Just didn’t make sense. Her eyes were drawn to the funeral home again, biting down on her bottom lip as she hesitated for just a moment, turning back to face him once more. “And just so you know--if it wasn’t obvious already,” She started, a slight grimace mixing with the playful smirk on her lips. “You’re fired.”