#monstersfear

[stolensiren]

famous last words // teddy, emilio, teagan, patricia, macleod, metzli, & cass

TIMING: just before midnight PARTIES: @deathisanartmetzli @eldritchaccident @yourlocalbrawler @teaganmyrick @monstersfear @braindeacl @stolensiren SUMMARY: metzli, macleod, cass, patricia, teagan, teddy, and emilio all prepare to leave town together, but are stalled by the realization that something isn't right. metzli finds a solution, and everyone wishes there were a different one. CONTENT: sibling death, parental death

“It–it didn’t work.” The earth continued to rumble and crack, the lightning of concrete and dirt growing with each thundering pulse of energy from White Crest. Metzli stood there, watching helplessly, unable to coordinate another plan as everyone stood behind them. Cass, Teddy, Emilio, Teagan, Patricia, and Eilidh agreed to ensure the plan worked, to stay just outside the town’s boundaries in case they needed to step in or keep running. 

And it was so funny, wasn’t it? Decades of being a strategist, with backup plan after backup plan, and now, when the world was ending—arguably the most important moment in Metzli’s life—they were coming up with nothing. “It was supposed to work! I don’t understand! Twelve sacrifices for each hour. All the books—Leah said—fuck! Fuck!” Abigail and Lil, and all those people had given their lives, believing they were doing the right thing. The very thought made Metzli sink to their knees, their heart aching and wishing for some other way. “All those volunteers…it was supposed to—”

Then, it hit them.

“The thirteenth hour.” Metzli practically whispered to themself, rising to their feet and stumbling as dry earth burst open. The sinkhole was going to reach the city limit if they didn’t act fast. If Metzli didn’t do something. “We forgot about the thirteenth hour. Teagan–you were in it.” She nodded with her brows furrowing together, as if she knew where they were going with their thought. She did. She looked down at Eilidh with a somber expression, not saying a word as Metzli continued. “You and that Sol guy, right? If it exists, it has to be the missing part. We need…” Their eyes fell at the realization they knew no one would want to say aloud. Avoiding everyone’s faces, Metzli continued, preparing for the inevitable rebuttals. Especially on Eilidh’s part. Maybe even more especially on Cass’s. “There has to be one more…sacrifice.” The final word hung heavy in the air, and Metzli didn’t lift their head. Doing so would make them think twice, and there just wasn’t enough time for that.

Eilidh was the first to surge forward, putting together what her partner was really saying. Her nails dug impossibly deep into their skin, drawing blood, and Metzli could’ve sworn they felt them in their heart. The two of them were supposed to have a new start, and they were effectively telling her they never would. Her screams filled their ears, her pleas making it nearly impossible to submit themself to what they needed to do. Whispering sweet nothings in her ears, she clung to them, and they finally rose their head to acknowledge everyone they loved, tears streaming down their fearful expression.

Rhett was dead. The ground was shaking, the world was ending, Rhett was dead, and it felt so much like Etla that Emilio could see Jaime’s body in the street just a few feet away staring at him with unseeing eyes. Nausea tugged at his gut, and it took everything he had just to keep his goddamn lunch down, just to keep himself standing on his own two feet. 

And the worst part, he thought, was that it was all for nothing. Rhett stayed behind to play the fucking hero, did the exact goddamn thing he’d forbidden Emilio from doing, and it was all for nothing. Emilio lost the only brother he had left for nothing. The world was still ending. They were still going to die. It might have felt like a relief if he weren’t so goddamn angry about it.

Metzli was speaking then, and it took a moment for Emilio to tune back in to the conversation, took a moment for him to pull himself back into the present and away from the bodies in the street that had rotted away to dust in another country years ago, but when his mind caught up, he understood what they were saying. 

Twelve people stayed behind. And there should have been one more.

Immediately, Emilio stepped forward. He locked eyes with Metzli, tilting his head in a silent question. He’d do it, if he had to. He’d be breaking a million promises — to Rhett, to Teddy, to people no longer around to care, but fuck, it’d be worth it. He chose to live. He chose that. Maybe it didn’t matter if he didn’t stick to it. Maybe choosing it once was enough.

The ground trembled beneath her feet, and Cass stumbled in a wild attempt to stay upright. It should have stopped by now, shouldn’t it? All those people who’d stayed behind, all those people who’d given everything to stop it… It should be over by now. The fact that it wasn’t was bound to be a bad sign, and maybe — maybe they all should have known better. Maybe they should have realized that things couldn’t be this simple. 

Maybe some things weren’t meant to work out.

Cass’s heart was in her throat, because she didn’t want to die. She didn’t want to fall into a hole in the world where no one would ever find her, didn’t want her life to end when it felt like it had really only just begun. Superheroes died for their causes, sometimes, but in the comics, they always came back after. Death wasn’t so temporary in reality. 

But then, Metzli came to a realization that was almost worse, somehow. They spoke, and Cass felt her stomach clench because she knew exactly what they were saying. She stepped towards them a moment after the hunter holding Teddy’s hand did, eyes sliding nervously to the man as she shuffled a little farther away from him and locked her gaze onto Metzli’s. 

“No,” she said firmly, shaking her head. “Metzli, no. You — You said we were going to leave together. You promised that. Let someone else do it.” She didn’t mean to glance back to the hunter as she said it, but maybe she did anyway. “You get to live now. You get that. Please, Metzli.”

The crumbling canyon before them was a ripping, yawning, hollow thing. Bleakly mirroring the expressions on those who stood around the edge. Teddy heard, yes. Teddy processed the meaning moments after the words came from Metzli’s mouth. His grip on Emilio’s hand and stubborn feet maybe the only thing keeping the hunter from rushing in without even knowing what he was going to even do about it. Teddy was doing it again. Flushed cheeks on a paling face. Slowly becoming about as ghost white as the crackles of energy that seeped up and out of the ground before them. Stuck in his spot. Unable to move. But if it wasn’t fear that was keeping him rooted, what was it? Despair? Rage? 

The florist (Well, was it even fair to call him a florist anymore? Twice now his shops had been swallowed completely by something all consuming and unstoppable. At least this time they weren’t alone. Though that thought was far more bitter than it should have been.) echoed the younger girl’s words. “No.” Firm, hurt, but lined with a breathy desperation that threatened to tumble outward should he say anything else. He finally forced himself to look over. Too much distance and too many people he loved stood between him and his appa. Fuck. Teddy was just getting used to that. To family. Each face painted a different portrait of grief. Emilio’s loss of another brother, Cass and the home she’d finally built for herself, Eilidh and the life they were about to create. And Metzli. Something determined and sad behind those eyes. A hungry thing Teddy recognized immediately as resolution. 

“There’s gotta– anyone else. Please. There’s so many people out there who could– anyone else.” It was pretty clear. The people there were among the few Teddy Jones would do literally anything for. Except allow them to die. Except allow them to be the final sacrifice in a pyrrhic victory against the town that raised Ted. The town that was set to raze the rest of the planet if someone didn’t intervene. There had to be another way. Anything. Anything would be better than losing a single one of them. 

— 

Despite the ravenous trembling of the ground beneath her, Patricia’s feet remained planted, looking on at the city that had attempted to make a massacre of its own population. It took her a bit longer than it should’ve to realize what Metzli was implying, what grim resolution to the problem they’d come up with, but it still hurt all the same. They were a close friend, one of the closest besides Teagan, and somebody she thought would become a parent-in-law someday in the future, but like all things, that innocent thought was cut short. Life was unfair, and cruel, but those words were understatements for the irony of Metzli sacrificing themself after already having given so much to the town and its people. 

A stunned silence washed over Patricia, the torrent of thoughts in her mind serving to silence the group’s pleading and denial. When she thought of putting herself in their shoes, she knew she couldn’t do it. There was no way she would leave Teagan and Daisy to give her life for the rest of the world. She knew just how selfish that was, but she didn’t allow self-pity to derail her thoughts. If anyone could do this, it was Metzli, that’s just the kind of person they were. They’d give their all until the last drop of blood was spilled.

Rather than a sob or a cry escaping Patricia’s lips as a tear streamed down her cheek, a grim chuckle instead left in its place. The feeling of disbelief fused with the sudden realization that it had to be Metzli, into a feeling of amusement at the irony of the situation. What else was there to do when all others wept for their closest friend? “Always gotta be the damn hero, don’t you Metz? If you’re going to go out, might as well go out swinging.” The world in front of them was emptying out, crumbling into nothing before their very eyes, but with a single realization Metzli proved that they were willing to charge forth into the void with a final defiant gesture. “Make it count, because there won’t be a single person who survives this that won’t miss you every damn day.”

There wasn’t much else to say. The group of people surrounding Teagan had every reason to refute what Metzli was saying, but even with how horrible the answer was, it was the answer. However, she did find herself wanting to fight back with the rest. If not to preserve a kind heart’s beat, then for her mother figure, Macleod. The love of her life was giving everything away, tossing out any possibility of the happy ever after she felt her mother deserved. But then, the love of her life spoke up, speaking in a way that would most certainly get her chastised. 

“C-cariad.” Teagan pulled Patricia closer to retreat to the back of the group, her voice still cracking from her time in The Ring’s basement. Her neck still bore the evidence of the horrible conditions she was under, and she was still weak from her time away from Dark Score, but there was an undeniable strength in the way she managed to get Patricia where she wanted. “They might h-hit you. Wanted to protect you.” She whispered hoarsely, confident that Patricia would still hear. “May be best to k-keep quiet for now. People in mourning. Denial.” Teagan looked at Cass then, the biggest and most frequent offender of denial. She did it best, and Teagan has experienced first-hand more than once. 

Everyone spoke together, refusing to accept the solution in front of them, just as expected. Metzli’s face contorted into a mixture of grief, frustration, and fear, the knowledge that they were wasting time heavy on their entire body. “Guys—please, can we just—” Then, Patricia, of all people, was tearfully chuckling, and they couldn’t help but scoff in kind. She not only understood what they were saying, but accepted it. There was no way they’d let Emilio give his life, and there was no changing Metzli’s mind, and she knew it. 

“No, guys. No.” Metzli propped Eilidh an arm-length away by her shoulder, hoping to help her see that their solution was the correct one. She continued to argue, to kiss them and beg them to let someone else do it, but Metzli simply shook their head. It wasn’t easy on their part, by any means, though it may have looked like it was. They had coordinated so many plans, were looking forward to a life full of love and adventure, and now…there was no chance. All of that was being given up so that everyone they loved could have that instead. It would hurt, it would ache indefinitely. But to Metzli, that fate was far better than having nothing at all.

Looking to the rest of the group, Metzli could see a tsunami of emotions crashing together, further increasing the difficulty of their decision. Eventually though, they found their resolve. “Emilio, you’re not giving your life. You haven’t lived long enough to make that decision so easily. Teddy and Cass, I know this is hard. I know. But who else will it be? Who else has had their chance at life? I’ve lived over a hundred and fifty years. I promised, I know. And you know what?” They chuckled in disbelief, shaking their head. “I did. I worked so hard to get out of here with you all. I kept my promise, and now I’ve gotta make good on my promise to love and protect you.”

“Metzli…” Emilio’s voice was low, quiet. He wanted to argue that they had more to live for than he did, but Teddy’s grip on his hand reminded him that that wasn’t quite true. And there was something unspeakably cruel about that, wasn’t there? The last time Emilio had run from a town as it came to an end, he’d had nothing left to live for and nothing to chase him down and put him out of his misery. This time, he had so much left to do and the world demanding someone stay to pay the toll anyway. Two years ago, this decision would have been a simple one. But now? Now, it was harder than it should have been. Now, it wasn’t him who was making it. 

He glanced over at Teddy, the stricken look on his face. He was going to lose something here today, no matter who made this sacrifice. And Emilio hated that. He hated that these were the kinds of choices they were given, hated that this was their lot in life, hated that Metzli was volunteering for this now, just when they were starting to make peace with each other, hated that he knew he was going to let them. 

“It doesn’t have to be you,” he said, still low. It was a pointless gesture, both the quiet tones when just about everyone in their group had some kind of enhanced hearing and the offer that Metzli had already turned down once. “Already made it longer than anybody thought I would, you know. Wouldn’t hate it if it ended like this.” They were going to say no — he knew they were going to say no — but Emilio still felt the need to offer. They deserved that much. He got that now.

Frustration built up in Cass throughout it all, through Teddy’s voice echoing her pleas and Patricia’s teary chuckle and Teagan’s sidelong glance in her direction. They were supposed to all get out. They were supposed to all be safe. She was supposed to meet up with Sloane after, they were supposed to all get away together, and it wasn’t —

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It wasn’t supposed to end like this. They weren’t supposed to be faced with more impossible choices when the decisions had all already been made. Cass had already lost friends to this crumbling mess of a town, had already lost people before the chaos started thanks in part to the strange ‘warning signs’ the town threw out as it started the too-slow, too-fast process of dying. She wasn’t supposed to lose anyone else. She wasn’t supposed to have to leave her family behind. 

Teddy’s boyfriend made an offer, and it took everything Cass had not to beg Metzli to take it, not to say outright that it would be better if they left someone she didn’t care about behind than it would be to leave someone she loved. It was a selfish thing to feel, but she felt it so entirely that it threatened to swallow her whole before the crumbling town could. Growing up the way she had, first in the system and then on the streets, made it so easy to accept that terrible things were bound to happen and to prefer it when they were happening to people you didn’t know. It also made it harder, somehow, when they were happening to the people you loved. There were so few of them. Cass couldn’t afford to lose any more.

“I don’t want that,” she insisted, her voice breaking. “We don’t want that.” She gestured between herself and Teddy, speaking for him without permission because she knew she was right. For all that she’d resented him, she knew that Teddy grew up much in the same way she had. She knew that, like her, he would prefer it if strangers took the fall in place of friends. Teddy didn’t want anyone to die for him any more than Cass did. She was confident in that, at least. “Let it be someone else, Metzli, please. I — I don’t want to lose you. I can’t. You’re my family, the first family I ever had. Please don’t leave me here alone.” 

— 

There wasn't anything Teddy could say that Cass hadn't already. Though her glances towards Emilio hadn't gone completely unnoticed. It wasn't her fault she never had a chance to really meet him and get to know the side Ted had come to love. But that didn't really stop the sting and feeling of betrayal at the silent suggestion. His heart was pounding. If he had not spent the majority of the last few months learning how to control his shifting, he might have sported a much more toothsome look by now. Instead he looked much like a dog someone left out in the rain. Tearing his eyes between the one who had volunteered themselves, and the man who tried to take their place. Neither would be acceptable. How could they be? Teddy's life had been empty, so fucking empty until these beautiful lights filled it with meaning and worth. He gripped even tighter on Emilio's hand. Maybe even painfully, but not on an intentional scale. He'd probably have done the same to Metzli if he already had a hold on them. 

"You– you can't leave us." He repeated numbly, barely audible. "I said I'd go wherever you go, appa. You promised we'd be together." In lieu of a well thought out argument, Teddy began to mumble like a lost toddler. Felt the burn in his legs as he willed them to move but they stayed firmly in place. His stomach churned, and his chest rose and shuddered with his ragged breath. "Why-why-why would it even have to be you? Huh?" He stammered, a rising defensive rage bubbling up out of the demon. "Haven't you given enough? You deserve to make it out with all of us just as much as anyone else, more even. You fought for this appa, you have to come with us s-someone else out there has to-" The tears his wide stare had been holding back finally burst through the dam. Catching his voice behind a curtain of hyperventilation and choked sobs as the realization that there was no way that he was leaving here with his heart intact. 

—

Patricia couldn’t think of anything witty or insightful to add to this devastating moment of collective revelation. All she could do was wrap an arm around Teagan, and watch as each member of this group reacted in their own ways. Even if all of them were normal people, intertwined only by common interests and memories, this would still hurt like shit, but they weren’t just that. Everybody here had been affected by Metzli for the better, time and time again. How could anybody ever accept that a world of people they’d never met, of people that would mostly never know them or care about them, should be more important than the one person who was good without expectation? It was a herculean task, and it couldn’t be resolved in the mere minutes that remained before the world ended.

Only an immensely small percentage of the world would know just what had been sacrificed for them, and even less would get to know who was lost for them. It was a devastatingly lonely fate that Patricia wouldn’t wish on nobody, not even those that had taken Teagan from her. There was no point consoling others right now, because not even Patricia could keep it together to do so. There was no staying strong, not anymore. Thoughts were quickly becoming harder to grasp as the knot in her throat felt larger and larger. Patricia leaned over and buried her face in Teagan’s shoulder, quickly dampening the fabric of her shirt with a stream of the tears just as inevitable as the shudder of the earth beneath them.

Teagan’s whole demeanor softened at the emotional outpour around her. She found herself wanting to fight back too, but there was a look in the vampire’s eye that told her everything she needed to know. They were a parent, a lover, a friend, a sibling, and everything in between. Soon, they would be none of those things except in the fleeting memories of everyone surrounding them. Macleod would mourn for the rest of her days, and as Teagan looked back over to her whilst she held Patricia, she held back a sob. The people she loved were always so strong and never let their tears see the light of day. Each a cache of emotions they held tightly shut. Holding tempers that could be akin to a blazing fire. But there they were, extinguishing the flames themselves so as to not leave anything unsaid.

“Shh…” She cooed, bringing Patricia closer. What else could she say? Teagan led the pair to the ground to get a better hold, a better look at the damage Metzli’s decision was making. It was then that she realized just how good of a friend they were to Patricia. She should’ve known. They had played a willing part in her rescue mission, after all. Teagan then cried, too. She held them at arm’s length so she didn’t have to feel the love they so obviously wanted to give, and did anyway, even without her permission. “I’m sorry,” Teagan whispered, looking at Metzli. “I should’ve gotten to know you better.” They shook their head at her, proclaiming her words nonsense and that they wouldn’t change a thing. Sometimes a quiet love is the one that echoes the farthest. Nodding in understanding, Teagan placed a kiss on Patricia’s head and intertwined her fingers with Macleod’s, extending her strength and love to her.

“Come on man,” Metzli shook their head and faced the wreckage that White Crest was becoming. “You’re not getting out of living that easy. You’ve got shit to do. Besides…” Shrugging, they turned to Cass and Teddy for a moment, going back to Emilio to finish their thought. “You need to make sure everyone stays together and gets out. No one else knows how important that is more than you.” 

Metzli again turned around, this time facing Eilidh. If it wasn’t ghosts or ghouls, it was the intimate celebrations that brought back the dead, or better yet, kept them alive. Metzli had done just that only weeks ago when they put together a Día de Muertos party. Eilidh did that daily when she saw a butterfly and said hello to her first love. They wondered, for a moment, if she’d do the same when she found a blooming datura. At the thought, Metzli stared into her eyes with a softness that could compete with silk. Their hand grazed the necklace they’d given her and they swallowed a sob so they could replace it with a longing kiss. “I’m so glad you’re the first and only woman I’ve ever loved.” They muttered against her lips, stepping away slowly while holding her hand with a pressure she could feel. Raising it just as slow and biting hard enough to draw her black, clotted blood. She scoffed out a teary chuckle and roughly pulled them to her for another firm kiss. A proper one that ended with their blood in her mouth. “I love you,” They said in unison, in each other’s languages they learned for one another.

Finally, they faced Teddy and Cass, only cupping her cheek. They would’ve cupped Teddy’s too, but sadly, one needs two hands for that, and he was on their left. “Listen guys, I’m not leaving you because I want to. I made a promise to protect you. To love you so unconditionally that I would quite literally put my life on the line for you. Of course you don’t want this, hell, I don’t want this, but it’s the solution we’ve got.” Metzli tightened their eyes shut in a vain attempt to halt the tears that fell anyway, and slowly, they brought Cass and Teddy into the tightest hug. Tight enough to imprint their bodies onto their skin so they’d stay there forever and they never had to forget how beautiful it felt to have love wrap around them. “It’s not about deserve. That went out the window a long time ago. It’s just about love. That’s all this is, and if you remember that, I’ll never leave you. You’ll never be alone. Look around you.” They parted from the hug and gestured to the people that had banded together to leave. “We made a family, Cass. We started it. And then it got bigger.” Teary eyes met with Teddy’s. “So no, you two will never be alone, and you know, you know, I will find a way back. This isn’t the end. It never is in our world. I chose you from the get-go. I chose you when I said we should leave. I’m choosing you now.” With a pause, they let go and stood tall, looking at their car. “We don’t have a lot of time and I need to get something done. Can I do that?”

Teddy’s grip on his hand was almost painful, tight and certain in a way that told the slayer just what the florist thought of his offer. It wouldn’t have mattered, anyway. Metzli had that bound and determined look in their eye, the one that told Emilio that their mind was made up. For all the ups and downs that their strange almost-friendship had been through throughout his year in White Crest, he could certainly recognize that that look meant there was no arguing with the vampire. 

Glancing to the rest of the group — to Teddy’s stricken expression, to the heartbroken kid, to Teagan and Patricia on the ground and Macleod murmuring in the language she and Metzli shared — Emilio nodded. “I’ll make sure they get out,” he promised. Metzli was right; out of all of them, Emilio knew best just how important that was. He could save people, this time. It didn’t make up for the ones he couldn’t save before, didn’t undo the shit he’d done, but it was something. It had to be something.

Cass, of course, was far less understanding. She wanted an easier answer, wanted a better ending to this story. She wanted the kind of thing that only ever existed in fairytales, where the people she loved were fine and everyone lived happily ever after. Never mind that that was already out the window now, never mind that people had already died for this town, never mind that it would all be for nothing if one more didn’t join them. All Cass wanted was to get out of here with what was left of her family intact. That was all. 

And this world couldn’t even give her that. 

Her tears soaked Metzli’s hand as it rested against her face, and she shook her head adamantly. “It isn’t fair.” After everything they’d been through, after all the work they’d put into regaining their soul, how was this how it ended? How was it okay that they were going to die when they’d only just started to live? The two of them had just celebrated Metzli’s birthday, the first time they’d been allowed to do so. It was supposed to be the first of many, was supposed to be the beginning of a new tradition. They were supposed to have decades of movie nights and stupid dinner parties, were supposed to be there for each other until Cass was old and gray. Cass was supposed to have her sibling with her until the day she died. 

They should have had sixty more years of laughter and joy and peace. It wasn’t supposed to end in a crumbling town, with tears and dust. It wasn’t supposed to end abruptly and without warning, the way every other attempt at a family Cass had ever made had. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

But there was no other way it could be, either. 

Metzli wouldn’t let anyone else make this decision in their place, not even if they were volunteering for it. No matter what they thought of themself, they were good. Too good to let anyone else do this in their stead, no matter how much Cass might long for it. Maybe it was always going to end like this after all. Maybe, since the beginning, Metzli doing something this selfless and this wonderful and this heartbreaking was inevitable. Maybe good people didn’t get happy endings. 

She whimpered as Metzli spoke, a thousand arguments building up in the back of her mind. But you won’t, she wanted to scream. You won’t be here. You won’t be here, and the town is gone and Levi is going to go back into the sea and Teddy probably doesn’t like me much, anyway, and I can’t go back to being alone when I’ve only just started to be with other people. This can’t be all the time we get. This can’t be all the family I get to have. It was stupid and selfish and childish, but she wanted to stomp her feet and throw her hands up and scream at the sky, wanted to yell at a god she wasn’t even sure she’d ever believed in for making this the hand they were dealt. It isn’t fair. I need you here. I still need you here. 

But what good would it do? What good would throwing a fit at the end of the world do for any of them? It would only make Metzli feel worse than they already did and, god, Cass didn’t want their last impression of her to be that. She didn’t want Metzli to feel anything negative towards her at the end, didn’t want to be the inconvenience every one of her short-lived foster families had accused her of being. There was so much here that she didn’t want, and so little time to correct any of it. 

There was still too much to say, still too much to do. And the world was still ending. And not one bit of it was fair.

She reached out, clutching Metzli’s hand desperately. “I’m not — I’m not ready,” she said, voice caught somewhere between a whisper and a sob. “I’m not ready to be without you. We just started. This is supposed to be the beginning.” 

The messy mix of memories that had firmly rooted Teddy in place began to settle into the corners of his mind, letting him slip into an unkind and uncomfortable sense of morbid pain. He had stopped flicking his gaze between Metzli and Emilio at some point, maybe when the older of the two guided the younger to keep everyone else safe. A firm decision that didn't seem up for debate. No, instead his eyes fell on Cass. Watched every bit of the churning ocean of emotions washed over her features in a way his inability to process the very same ones wouldn't allow. He watched until they were both pulled into a hug so tight his view was obscured, and he could only feel the flushed heat radiating off her skin. Hear her heartbeat banging against its cage in rhythm with his own. 

Her words compelled him to do something he never really would have thought of, if not for how Metzli brought them closer together. Funnily enough, their connection to Levi and Marina made them something of siblings, but it might just have been the old vampire who made them family. Teddy gently, far more gently than he had been (and still was) gripping tight to his boyfriend, slipped his hand into Cass's. A wordless promise that if she wanted it, if she allowed it…he would be there for her. They both knew so intimately what it was like to be alone. Maybe it was time they tried to get rid of that feeling together. 

Teddy wasn't ready to lose Metzli either. The annoying gnawing voice that always grated at the back of his head reminded him that they hadn't even really known each other that long. That the strange sensation of knowing the vampire all his life had come from a stint of magic that temporarily altered his memories and gave him and Metzli a few days where he got to be a real kid. Their kid. And now… now he was going to be an orphan again. It didn't really matter how old you were, losing that part of yourself… especially after having fought so long to feel it. To really belong to something or someone who chose you because of who you are, not something you did or something you could give. He wasn't ready to lose it all again. It didn't matter what he had with Levi. A thousand years and that would never be this. 

A loving embrace, before a calculated release. 

A selfless sacrifice that would leave a living scar on everyone here. Teddy wept. Silent and steady. Hot blistery tears streaking down his cheeks with no sign of stopping. His breath stifled any words, as if he could think of any. What the hell was he supposed to say? How do you tell someone that they've become such an ingrained part of you that to pull them away means the very fabric of you begins to unravel? How do you keep standing when the ground below gets ripped away? The closest he could think of was a sobbed, repeated phrase. Over and over. 

"Apa, please. I love you."

—

All Teagan could do was watch with eyes so full of mist that everyone was a blur. Looking down at Patricia, it was all she could do to keep herself from falling apart when there were parties clearly more affected than she was. For the time being, she kept quiet, wiping her eyes to see Metzli hurry around the vehicles as the world crumbled around them. Time was ticking, and Teagan could’ve sworn she could hear the clock bell roar, confirming Metzli’s suspicions. 

Why did it have to end this way? Life always had a cost, and it looked like there was nothing left to do but pay, and Metzli was holding the lump sum. One so large that it was lodged in their throat while they said their goodbyes, even taking the time to speak to those they barely knew. Teagan appreciated that, looking at Macleod with eyes so full of sorrow, they were dripping down her cheeks. Everything was breaking, and the nix didn’t wield the power to make everything come to a full stop when the collection of all their fears was titanic. But that strange, one-armed vampire did. And they knew it. 

“I’m not ready either,” Metzli whispered with a tired smile, pulling Cass into one more tight hug after spending a few minutes rushing to transfer items to the other vehicles and writing letters as fast as they could. They figured their belongings would be better off kept by those they loved than lost beneath the rubble of a lost town, and their family would pass on their goodbyes to everyone they knew. Of that they were sure of. 

“And Teddy,” Metzli locked eyes with the one and only son they ever had, wrapping their arms around him and giving into their heart that they opened up so anxiously to the world. “ I love you. I love all of you.” That time, they looked around them, taking the time to share a glance at everyone, disregarding the way their backwards world could they offer their dying breaths and it be called beautiful. 

Emilio, the man that hated them without a second thought became one of their greatest allies, and even better friend. 

Patricia, a woman who so lost in her failure that she nearly lost sight of what she could have. Now she had everything, and the best was yet to come. 

Teagan, a girl who kept everyone at arm’s length, was now using those very limbs to encase people with love. 

Cass, once a stranger that prevented them from being their own worst enemy. She shared Metzli’s  fear of loneliness and abandonment so intimately that she became tightly entangled in their heart and made a family. Their first. 

Teddy, a boy who was never chosen despite holding the biggest heart made of gold that persevered through loneliness, and now, finally, he knew what unconditional love from a parent was. 

Eilidh, the first and only woman Metzli ever loved. With her heart as full and lively as every garden she tended, she gave the vampire everything, even if it was to her detriment. She found their heart, but she’d always be their soul. Their death so early on in their relationship was not the ending they wanted, but they handed her the seeds for the future and were giving her a watering can to nurture something into bloom. Each petal would be marked with their love and she would be reminded every day that they would never leave her. With their sacrifice, with their love, they were painting the future in the background with only 30 minutes left. 

And yes, they would all grieve. But Metzli found comfort that their deep grief meant that they loved fully. They all opened their hearts despite the inevitable. Metzli had many regrets, but never would they regret the love they gave, or anything they did in the name of it. 

With one final round of hugs and a lingering kiss for Eilidh, the ending was cemented. Each rumble and shake grew in strength, leading a flurry of tremors to course through Metzli as their legs settled in the driver side. “Please, take care of each other. Please.” They faced everyone, rolling the window down and shutting the door with their face tear-stained and red. “And Cass?” They chuckled dryly, a glimmer of humor pushing through with a twitchy, quick nod. “Tell amá I love her, okay? And check Macleod’s glove compartment in her trailer. There’s a little present there for you.”

It wouldn’t have mattered if the quakes hadn’t been trembling through the ground, wouldn’t have mattered if the sun was high in the sky or the clouds were all far away. In that moment, no matter what the world actually looked like, all Cass would have seen was darkness. The scene blurred around her as her eyes filled up with tears, and she shook her head again, adamant. It couldn’t end like this. After everything, it couldn’t end like this. They’d made it out. They’d gotten all the way to the edge of town, had plans to go farther, had a future all mapped out and ready to go. They were all supposed to survive this. They were all supposed to be okay.

But the world, Cass had learned long ago, never gave much of a shit about the way things were supposed to be. It didn’t matter that Metzli was going off to stop the apocalypse, didn’t matter that a dozen other people were giving their lives for the same reason. The world was ending anyway. It already had.

Cass clung to Metzli stubbornly as they hugged her, and she wanted to drag the vampire with them, wanted to say fuck the world, let it end, I don’t care even if it wasn’t true. She was too kindhearted to doom the world, even if hers would be so much emptier without Metzli in it. Even if it felt like the apocalypse might as well have been successful in this moment.

She sniffled as Metzli spoke again, nodding her head even as her throat burned, even as her chest ached. Whatever present Metzli had left for her would be far too small to fill the void carved out in her life, but at least she’d have something to hold onto. At least she’d have something tangible to remind her that once, for a moment, someone had loved her like this. 

Too soon, the goodbyes were over. There wasn’t enough time in the world to say everything they wanted to say, and there certainly wasn’t enough time now. Metzli had to go, and so did the rest of them. Someone tugged her back towards the cars, Teddy’s boyfriend practically dragging him along, and everything hurt long after Cass was settled into the seat with a seatbelt holding her in place, long after Metzli disappeared in the rear view mirror. 

There was a future ahead of them, still. There was a windshield with a whole world contained behind it, a world that would continue to exist because of an infuriatingly selfless vampire who left to save the planet because it needed them to. And Cass had needed them, too. She understood it — of course she did — but she didn’t think the ache would ever really go away. Maybe, if she could ever look to the future in the windshield instead of the crumbling past in the mirror, it would hurt less. Or maybe it never would. Either way, she figured, they had to keep driving. For Metzli. For all of them.

[monstersfear]

the end of something // rhett, teddy, & emilio

TIMING: sometime before midnight. PARTIES: @eldritchaccident @ironcladrhett & @monstersfear SUMMARY: teddy and emilio prepare to leave town, and rhett informs them that he won't be joining them. CONTENT: sibling death, mentions of past suicide ideation

“Metzli’s going to meet us at the edge of town,” Emilio announced, slipping his phone into his pocket with a grimace. “They’ve got some kind of a caravan set up. Figure it’s safer to travel in groups.” Not to mention he knew Teddy would want reassurance that Metzli made it out. The hunter might not admit it, but he wouldn’t mind that reassurance himself. He’d made a list in the back of his mind, had people he was keeping track of throughout this whole evacuation process. Ari, Kaden, Metzli, Nicole, Vida. 

Next to him now were two people near the top of said list. There was some relief in having both Teddy and Rhett where he could see them, some quiet factor that made it a little easier to breathe. Emilio might not be as self aware as some people might want him to be, but he knew he had… issues here. A town falling apart, everyone he loved inside of it… It was a painfully familiar scenario. Last time this happened, he’d walked away with nothing. He’d saved no one. He wasn’t going to let that happen again.

“We should move fast. This shit’s going under quick, and we can’t be here when it does.” He motioned for the other two men to follow him quickly, eyes darting around to take in the darkened sky and crumbling town.

—

Packing had been finished for a good few weeks at this point. Teddy didn't know the day or the hour of the fucking apocalypse so they had to be prepared. Besides, it wasn't like either himself or Emilio were terribly unfamiliar with living out of boxes or bags. Most of the bigger shit was in a storage container a few towns away, they had a carry on sized bag each to hold them over in the interim. 

The biggest trouble the florist had been dealing with was keeping track of Zazzy. The normally quite lazy couch potato of a raiju runt had gotten more and more agitated and energetic as the end approached. In a way it was nice. Gave them about as much of a heads-up as they were going to get. But now that it was time Teddy was struggling to keep the wormy zoomie little fuzzball in his arms. Suddenly wishing he had got the little guy a carrier crate but he kinda figured that the raiju wouldn't like that very much. Oops. 

Maybe it was nice though. To have something to focus on that took quite a bit of strain to do so. Had his mind had moments to wander, surely Teddy would've gotten stuck in a loop of worry and stomach churning anxiety. As it was. He could hardly take his eyes off the cat/dog/weasel thing. Any chances he had were all spent on Emilio. Convinced that his man was going to go off and do some last minute heroics that was going to get him killed one way or another. One arm to hold Zazz, one hand to continuously anchor himself to the hunter. 

Rhett had just pulled in and popped up to the apartment too, he probably had the easiest job of packing between all of them. Perks of living mobily, Teddy supposed. He was about to make a comment to that end when Emilio spoke up, and confirmed what he'd been thinking. They were together now. Time to get out. And make sure everyone they cared about followed suit. 

—

As they exited the building, Rhett’s gaze followed a similar path to Emilio’s, scanning over the fucked up sky while his resolve hardened. This couldn’t be allowed to spread. The boys, Ari, Vida… all of them had to get out and be safe. Wasn’t any point in claiming to be a protector if you weren’t ready to lay down your life. That said, there had to be some left. Younger blood, the kind that warmed a heart enough to let it be given to another. That wasn’t on the table for Rhett anymore, but Emilio still had time. Still had hope. Teddy gave him that—Teddy and all the other people his little brother had met in this town. 

Had to protect that.

Bringing up the rear, Rhett placed a hand on Emilio’s shoulder as they all reached the Fungi Wagon, urging him to turn around. “Here,” he muttered, digging the keys from his pocket with one hand and taking Emilio’s in the other, forcing them into his palm. 

When Teddy got the passenger side door open, he’d notice that all the personal junk that used to take up the space in the back had been fully cleared out. In fact, other than the painted mural that still clung to its metal sides, every trace of Rhett had been scrubbed from the vehicle. The man himself looked up to meet Emilio’s gaze, the wilted smile on his lips conveying his hope that he wouldn’t have to say what came next. As practiced as he was with goodbyes, this wasn’t one he’d expected to have to make a second time.

—

Teddy’s hand gripped his tightly, and Emilio understood why. It wasn’t just a passive thing here, wasn’t just a show of affection. Emilio had a bad habit of going to dark places, and no one knew that better than Teddy. It was only a few months ago that the florist had been desperately trying to convince Emilio to keep living, only a few months ago that Rhett had dragged him away from his desire to stop and done everything he could to keep him separate from it. And Emilio would be lying if he said those feelings were entirely gone. He’d be lying if he said he thought they ever could be, after everything. But right now, he was choosing something else. With Teddy’s hand in his, it felt just a little easier to do.

Rhett’s hand on his shoulder pulled him from his thoughts, and Emilio glanced to his brother with a quizzical expression on his face. He took the keys robotically, brows furrowing together. “Really must be the end of the world if you’re letting me drive,” he joked, huffing a laugh as he slipped the keychain around his finger and flipped the key absently.

But then Rhett met his eye. Then he got that goddamn look on his face, and there was a pit in Emilio’s stomach that was bottomless and gaping, a feeling that hollowed him out so quickly it should have been impossible. The smile slipped off his face, the keys going still in his hand as he stopped swinging them so abruptly that they hit against his knuckles with a quiet clatter. 

“No,” he said, the word little more than a breath of air. “No. Absolutely fucking not, Rhett, I’m not kidding. No.” 

—

With the raiju placed in a ball of blankets in the front seat, content with the warmth from the car to keep it still, Teddy had a moment to breathe. To think. And a moment is all it was, cause from the other side of the van something of a commotion stirred. Somehow between that and all that was missing from the vehicle, the meaning was partially lost on the demon. The florist hurried to the other side though, taking up his spot right next to Emilio once again. There was a heat beginning to radiate from the hunter as he got more and more amped up. 

“Wait–wait– what’s happening?” Social cues weren’t Teddy’s forte, but it was obvious something was wrong. That achey thrum began to worm its way up in his chest. Instinctively he put an arm around the slayer, but his eyes stayed firmly on Rhett. There was a play going on around him and he hadn’t been given the script. It really shouldn’t have been that hard to figure out.  But it was the end of the fucking world and the man had more than a few things on his mind that were perhaps taking up a bit of his cognitive processing. “Rhett– why…what are you planning?” 

—

Of course he argued. Rhett had expected as much, steeling himself against the fear that started creeping into Emilio’s expression. Teddy came ‘round the other side of the van, joining them with a bemused look on his face before asking what was going on. The warden let his gaze flick over to Teddy, needing a moment to be free of the pain he was causing Emilio. 

“Can’t come with,” he answered softly. “Some people here need my help.” With a thick swallow, he glanced back to Emilio. “This is it, kiddo. The big one. Need to make myself useful.”

—

“He’s planning on staying behind,” Emilio spat, because for him, grief always came with anger. Anger towards the situation that left them with an unwinnable battle. Angry at the world for taking and taking and taking until he had nothing left to give. Angry at Rhett for making this choice, for doing a stupid, heroic thing when Emilio desperately needed him to be a coward. Angry at himself for not seeing any of it coming. 

And the anger wasn’t real. He knew that, too. He knew that the anger was a defense mechanism, a fire built in a wasteland to keep him warm. He wasn’t angry at Rhett or at himself or even at the world at large. But admitting that meant admitting to what was lurking underneath. Admitting that meant recognizing how small he felt, how scared. And Emilio couldn’t do that.

So he glared in Rhett’s direction, fire burning behind his eyes to distract from the aching in his chest, and he told himself that that was better. He told himself it was easier this way. “You’re a fucking asshole,” he said, taking a step towards his brother and grabbing him by the front of his shirt, knuckles white with his grip. “You think, what, you make the sacrifice play after months of telling me I’m not allowed to? Some people need your help? I need you, you prick. What about that?” His throat burned, and his vision blurred in a way he pretended was rage instead of tears threatening to spill over. 

“Fuck this. Fuck you. Get in the fucking van, Everett.” Please, he added silently, the word unspoken but present in his expression all the same.

—

"Wh–" Fuck. Now that it'd been said aloud it was so obvious what it all had been pointing to. Teddy shifted uncomfortably, at a total loss of how to respond. "Y-your–?" Leaving. Or staying rather. Staying there in the middle of assured destruction to save the rest of the world. Hunters died to protect others. That's something Emilio had said over and over and over. You don't get old in that line of work. You don't get happily ever afters or even the joy of retiring.  Rhett was the closest thing Teddy had ever seen that seemed to contradict that statement. But now he was– 

He was shaking. Teddy knew that much, but everything seemed so numb outside of his hands it was hard to feel anything else. He gripped tighter and tighter onto Emilio, knowing that this had to have been a thousand times worse for him. Teddy only just got to know the old warden. But that was Emilio's brother. He was supposed to be a fixture in their life. Together. More weird breakfasts and old stories and time. But Rhett had other plans it seemed. 

—

“You’ve got people,” Rhett said sadly. “Y’haven’t needed me for a long time, now. So here’s what’s gonna happen.” Still very much trapped in Emilio’s grip, the warden brought a hand to the side of his neck and braced it there. “You two are gonna get as far away from here as you can, hear me? Real far. Don’t take any fuckin’ chances.” He glanced to Teddy, perhaps as a silent plea to help talk some sense into Emilio, because he knew this would be an uphill battle. “Me? Can’t back out. If I bail, they don’t have enough people.” He paused. “If they don’t have enough people, we all die.” His other hand gave Teddy’s shoulder a squeeze before moving it to now frame Emilio’s pained face between them both.

“Listen t’me, little brother. I’m old. I ain’t got much time left in this world, anyway. We both know that. Let me… let me go out doin’ somethin’ that’ll help everyone, not just… whatever makes me feel better in the moment. Whatever dampens the rage and the hurt… just lemme do this, kid. For you. For Ted. For all the people in this damn town who’d cry at your funeral. Please.”

—

“You’re my people.” His voice broke on the last word, just a little. Emilio hadn’t felt like a child in decades now, hadn’t even really felt like a child when he was a child, but in this moment, he was eight years old again. He was staring in wonder as his mother and uncle dragged their brother into the house and laid him on the kitchen table, flinching as too-loud voices ordered him to sit with the bleeding man while they went to get help, struck with the realization of what help meant when they returned with the priest instead of the doctor. 

Hunters were supposed to have their lives cut off at the knees, were built to die long before their hair went gray and their skin began to wrinkle and Emilio knew that. Emilio had known that all his life, had watched it happen. He’d seen his mother and siblings dead in the street, had watched his nephew die before the kid was old enough to know what dying meant. And somehow, he’d thought Rhett was different. Somehow, he’d convinced himself that the warden was above all that, that Rhett would outlive him and that there’d be relief in, for once, being the one to leave instead of the one to get left. But Rhett’s hand was gripping the side of his neck in a way that meant goodbye now, and it didn’t make sense even though it did. It was impossible even though it wasn’t. Every inch of it ached.

“No,” he said again, because what else was there to say? What else was there to do? “No. I’m not — I’m not going to leave you. I can’t. I can’t do that again.” It was an ugly mirror image of the last moments in Etla; the chaos, the anguish, the grief. People he loved dying while he made it out. Was this how it was always going to be? Was Emilio always the one who survived, no matter how little he wanted to? Maybe this was his punishment, he thought, the retribution for all the sins he’d stacked up under his belt. To lose Rhett in a way that seemed to echo the way he’d lost everyone else was the kind of thing just cruel enough for God to come up with.

Desperately, Emilio looked to Teddy, eyes pleading with his boyfriend to do… something. To drag Rhett into the damn van, kicking and screaming. To make some demon deal that would tie his brother to life instead of allowing him to die. To fix the unfixable, somehow. 

—

Both sets of eyes were on him now and Teddy was just left stammering. Of course he wanted Rhett to stay, of course he wanted to stop whatever the hell was going through the old man's head, let someone else take the torch. But Rhett was looking at him too, pleading him just as much to tell Emilio that this was how it had to be. Teddy didn't know though, how true that was. How could they just agree to let him run into the flames? Even if it meant the rest of the world wouldn't catch fire. 

"Isn't there anything else? There's gotta be uhh–" He swallowed, hard. Feeling the weight of expectations from either side of the growing chasm. "Someone else or…" 

—

Recognizing the spot he’d put Teddy in, Rhett closed his eyes and shook his head. “There’s no talkin’ me out of it, lads. But yes, there is someone else… and they’re waitin’ on me.” He let his hands fall back to his sides, beginning the slow retreat that would eventually end with him turning his back on the pair. “I’m sorry, Emilio. Don’t wanna do this to you, but… couldn’t let someone else go in my stead. Wouldn’t be right. This is my job, and I’ve been doin’ fuck all, lately.” It was because he was suddenly afraid of losing the man again, afraid of abandoning him by dying doing something reckless… which felt silly, now. It went against everything he’d been saying, because more than anything else, he knew he had to throw himself on the knife so that Emilio wouldn’t do it himself. There was something else, too. Something he’d never said aloud, but this seemed like the right moment to give it a shot. 

“I just want you t’be… proud of me.” His voice wavered as he spoke, the instinct to withdraw taking over. “Know I ain’t all here, haven’t been since I was a kid. Know I do a lot of stupid shit. Say stupid things. No kinda role model. Violent, angry, spiteful.” He dragged his gaze up to meet Emilio’s, the tiredness settling over his worn features. “Don’t want you to fall too deep in that hole. Be more like Ted, not like me. Lemme go out doin’ somethin’ a good person would do. Remember me like that, maybe, not… not all the other shit. Maybe.” His voice dropped to a whisper on the final word, head drooping shamefully. 

“... you need to leave.”

—

Teddy was trying, just like Emilio was. But Rhett had always been a stubborn old bastard, for as long as Emilio had known him. Once he’d set his mind to something, it was always damn near impossible to change it. It was one of the many ways the two hunters were alike, one of the many things that had drawn them together since the first day Rhett wandered into Etla. In the past, it had always seemed like a good thing. But in this moment? It was the worst thing in the goddamn world. 

���I am proud of you,” he said, and Christ, Emilio had never been one to beg but this sure as hell sounded like it. He’d faced down torture and unimaginable pain, had gone up against a fucking ancient demon without begging for shit, but he was pleading like a damn kid now. Every inch of his face was pleading desperately for Rhett to change his mind, just this once. He knew a lost cause when he saw one, but he’d never been particularly good at accepting them for what they were. It was almost funny, in a cruel way; he’d lost so much now that, at this point, you’d think he’d be used to it.

He shook his head, breath hitching. “You said I could go first,” he replied stubbornly, and he knew he sounded like a child but he was beyond caring. “You said that. I can’t —” He looked back to Teddy again, shaking his head. “I can’t leave him.”

—

That was just Emilio’s fear talking. Rhett knew it well, and knew that this goodbye wouldn’t end in hugs and tearful smiles. No, this goodbye would be wretched, the most wretched he’d ever created of his own volition, and yet… he had to do it. “I know I did,” the warden muttered, untangling himself from Emilio’s grip and taking a step back. “Turns out I was lyin’. I’m sorry.” It’s all he could do, now. Apologize. He’d said his piece, and Emilio would either accept or reject it, in his own time. He’d hate him for his sacrifice, or he’d go through the stages of grief and see that Rhett was just doing it to protect him. 

“You can leave me, and you will,” the warden argued, his voice low. Another quick glance up at the darkening sky told him that the time was drawing near. Still hours away, but he wanted them to be hours from this place before everything went to shit. “Runnin’ outta time. Not gonna argue ‘bout it anymore. Take the wagon, go join the caravan, n’ get outta here. Go live your lives. And goddamnit, be careful. Don’t make me die for nothin’.”

—

As Rhett pulled away, Emilio’s hands gripped the air in his absence, as if his fingers weren’t quite ready to admit that there was nothing left for them to hold onto. They opened and closed, fist clenching and unclenching absently in the way it always did when he was left with nothing to fight. It was so much harder like this. When the turmoil existed nowhere but inside of him, he didn’t know what to do with it. He didn’t know how to breathe around it. “Don’t,” he said quietly, still pleading. Still angry and still not. “Don’t apologize. Just — Just get in the van. We’ll figure something else out, like Teddy said. Please.” 

But Rhett’s voice was firm, his eyes darting up to the sky and the way it darkened around them. When all this was said and done, would it be a sunny day? Emilio found himself filled with a surge of bitterness at the thought, found himself unreasonably angry towards a sun that would rise tomorrow even if Rhett was no longer around to see it. That was always the hardest part about loss. It wasn’t the moment you lost something — it was the moment after. It was the one after that. 

“Don’t make me do this,” he begged. “Please, Rhett. No me dejen solo.”

—

“You’re not alone,” Rhett answered, nodding at Teddy. “You’ve got a whole caravan waitin’ on you.” And to dispel any remaining hope Emilio or Teddy had of convincing him, he went on to add, “I’m not gettin’ in that van, you know that. We can either say goodbye, or…” His throat felt tight and his breathing was weak, still afraid of that worst-case scenario. “... or I can just walk away. Don’t… really want it to end like that, though.”

—

It was tense, everything ached in a way that felt like they were being sent through a meat grinder but slowly and in reverse. Teddy knew what it was like to not get a goodbye. Knew the empty hollow pain that haunted you forever afterwards. Knew Emilio wouldn't ever come close to forgiving himself if he didn't say something. But he also knew how hard it was for the slayer to express himself. All he could do was hold tight to his hand, but give him a nudge forward. Not quite resigned to the idea of letting this happen, but not wanting to let Emilio give himself another thing to beat himself up about. 

—

There were moments where it felt like the goddamn world was closing in around you. Emilio was no stranger to them, had had more than his fair share. In Etla, in New Orleans, in that cave just outside of town, in his own apartment. There were moments where the world was both too big and too small, where everything was a contradiction that seemed impossible to grapple with. There were moments you could never get out from under, and this was one of them. Emilio would live in this moment for the rest of his life, he knew, would carry it with him in the same overflowing stack where there were bodies rotting on a Mexican street and smoke rising up from a warehouse where no one had died. 

Rhett was right; Emilio knew he wasn’t getting in the van. He’d known it since the beginning, since the moment those keys were pressed into his hands. The ending was already written down. There was no changing it. And he was angry, even if he wasn’t. There was rage burning in his chest, even if it wasn’t rage at all. 

There were so many people he’d never said goodbye to. His mother, his father, his siblings, his nephew. Silas. So many names on a list so full of regret that it was a wonder there was ever any left for anyone else. The idea of adding Rhett’s to it, the idea of losing him without whatever tiny semblance of peace a goodbye might offer…

“Don’t.” He choked on the word like a physical thing, like the lump in his throat was made up of something more tangible than grief. “Don’t just walk away. I don’t — I don’t want that.” He reached up with the hand Teddy wasn’t holding in a death grip, scrubbed it across his face and pretended it didn’t come back wet. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to be mad at you. I don’t know what else to be.”

—

“I know.” The statement was simple, but it said a lot. Anger was easiest, they both knew that. Facing the rest of it was… difficult. Complicated. And always, no matter how hard they tried, they were poisoned with a little bit of anger. “You can be mad. Hell, I’d be mad, too. But it doesn’t change what needs t’happen.” Closing the small distance that had grown between them, Rhett gracelessly pulled Emilio into a hug. “Take some comfort in knowin’ I’m goin’ out how I want, eh? Doin’ a good thing. Bein’ a good person.” He pulled back, framing the slayer’s face in his hands once more, a sad, tearful smile blooming on his lips.

Damn, wouldn’t you know it? He’d been wrong after all.

“I love you, little brother. And I’m gonna do whatever I have to to protect you. Right now, that means makin’ sure this bloody doomsday bullshit stays local.” Rhett looked to Teddy as he released the hunter, the fondness in his expression only growing. “Take care of him for me,” he muttered as he leaned in to give Teddy a hug as well, holding for a few extra beats before moving back again.

“Right. Well then, off you go.” An emotional sniff followed the dismissal as he gave a half-hearted wave of his arm.

—

Ted could hardly come up with something that felt right in that moment. Instead he nodded grimly at Rhett's request. Tried to slip on a smile, and squeezed the old man with all the love and warmth he wished he'd been able to give his brother so many years ago. It hurt to say goodbye, sure. But at least they were able to do so. It wouldn't just be another mystery, or start of a cycle of revenge and grief. After all, what were they going to do about Rhett's killer? The town was already destroying itself. The best they could hope was to be on the outside to watch it burn. 

—

If not for Teddy’s hand gripping his, Emilio would have fought it more. He would have dug his heels into the ground, would have refused to leave his brother to die alone in a crumbling town that neither of them had ever really made a home out of. Emilio was a stubborn man, loyal to a fault more often than not, and the idea of leaving Rhett here was so unfathomable that if not for the tragedy of it all, it might have been a laughable concept. But Teddy was holding onto him in a way that said he wasn’t leaving unless Emilio did, and Teddy was too good a man to be allowed to die for nothing. 

Gripping Rhett tightly in the embrace, Emilio buried his head in the warden’s shoulder for a moment, hating himself for the dampness left there when he pulled away. “You’re one of the best men I’ve ever met,” he said, “you fucking asshole. Doing the goddamn hero shit.” Dying so Emilio wouldn’t have to, despite knowing that there would always be a part of Emilio that wanted it. 

“I love you,” he muttered, the words sticking to the back of his throat, coming out garbled and feeling wrong even if they were probably the truest thing he’d ever said. Saying it hurt. Every bit of this hurt, from the tearful smile on Rhett’s face to the way he hugged Teddy just as tightly as he had Emilio. In another world, a kinder one, they could have been a family for a little longer than they had. They could have had something bigger. Something better. Something whole. But this world wasn’t built for things like that.

An unexpected panic built up in his chest as Rhett waved with a sense of finality that Emilio wasn’t ready for. Desperation creeped back in, and he shook his head again. “No. No, I’m not — I’m not ready. I can’t go yet. There has to be more time.”

—

It would be cruel to let Emilio know just how much his protesting was breaking Rhett’s heart, so the warden stuffed a cork so deep in that bottle that it wouldn’t be able to to spill a single drop, right up to the end. Turn it off. Turn it off. Just like he always had.

“More time’s only gonna make it harder. ‘Sides… we don’t have much left.” He offered another lopsided smirk, masking how badly this hurt. “Get outta here, ‘fore I gotta stuff you in the van myself. I’ll stand in the middle of the road and wave all dramatic, like a movie, eh?” He listed his arms again, this time giving a larger, more insistent ushering motion with both of them. “See you two in the next life. Make the best outta this one, first.”

—

If they waited until he was ready, they’d never leave. Emilio knew that. He’d stand here until the world fell down around them, would die and be buried and rot in the ground for a hundred years and still not be ready for this. There were some things, he thought, you could never be ready for. There were some things you could never be okay with. This was one of them. 

Bringing a trembling hand to his head, he scrubbed it across his face and nodded, feeling a little more unsteady on his feet than he had in a long, long time. He pulled Rhett in for another hug, fists gripping the back of the warden’s shirt tightly. “You’re an asshole,” he muttered into the man’s neck, the words coming out a little more broken than he’d like to admit. “I love you.”

—

Calling on pride while so much sorrow swam around one’s heart wasn’t fair, or even kind. But Teddy felt a swell of it nonetheless. At Emilio’s ability to speak his mind, at Rhett’s stalwart ability to go through with this despite how much it must hurt. The florist had no idea of what would await the warden at the end of this road. What would await them at their own destination. Too many unknowns. The only thing he knew for sure. The only thing Teddy knew for sure was that they had to keep going. That he was going to do his best to do exactly what Rhett said and take care of Emilio. No matter what. 

As if to seal that promise, Teddy moved in and kissed Em on the cheek. Softly smiling through the heartache. He turned towards the man, the hero, the fucking saint of batshit baddassery. “Thank you for everything… Bringing him to me. Always being there when we needed you. You’re amazing, you know that Rhett?” 

—

A breathy chuckle managed to squeeze itself from his aching lungs as Emilio called him an asshole for the second—third?—time. He returned the hug fiercely, ruffling the slayer’s hair as they reluctantly pulled apart. “Love you more, ya stupid fuckin’ muppet.” Throwing a wink at him, Rhett smiled, a little less sad this time, seeing the way Teddy slipped effortlessly into that supporting role. And then complimented him, which drew forth an exasperated scoff. 

“Nah, nah… m’just an daft idiot who’s good with weapons.” Slipping the rifle from his back, he flicked the safety off. “Do me a favor… pray that some weird beasties come tumblin’ outta all these rips in reality, eh? Could use a little excitement for the last ride.” His grin widened, returning to that familiar, reckless type of insanity that was his whole personality. “And hey! Be good to my wagon! If you total ‘er, I’m gonna haunt both your fuckin’ arses!” Rhett moved with finality now, bracing the rifle in front of him as the storm rolled in overhead and thunder boomed between the clouds. The plea for them to just get out of there was quarantined to his eyes, the rest of him looking terribly ready for a fight. 

—

“Haunt us anyway.” It was only half a joke, and the way his voice wobbled betrayed as much. It was a stupid notion, of course, because exorcising Rhett in order to keep him from becoming a poltergeist would only mean losing him twice instead of once, but God, Emilio would have killed for something to cling to. It wasn’t enough to have a worn old van and a rushed goodbye. Nothing would ever be enough.

His legs remained locked in place, refusing to move for a moment in spite of the way he’d already agreed to go. Walking away from this, leaving while Rhett was alive and animated and knowing this was the last time he’d ever see him in such a way, it felt impossible. It was too much; they were asking too much of him. He glanced back to Teddy, throat burning, trying to communicate that he needed the florist to take that first step towards the van, trying to say without words that Emilio needed an extra push if he was going to be expected to climb this mountain.

—

With a heaved sigh, Teddy nodded and curled his arms around Emilio. Held him tight for just a moment before ushering both of them towards the van. "Want me to drive, love?" It was half a question, half an announcement as he was already going for the keys. The hunter didn't seem in a particularly good headspace to be driving. Teddy walked with him to the passenger side. Scooching aside the slumbering raiju who was content and dreaming, completely unaware of how hurt everyone around it was. As he rounded the front of the old wagon he ran his hand along the hood. A soft sad smile as he gave it a pat, as if thanking the van for its role in giving him the opportunity to meet its…former owner. As if asking for forgiveness from the machine, for accepting it and letting Rhett go. 

They had miles to go before they could rest, but the first turn of the key would always be the hardest. Teddy's hand wavered on the gear shift. As they watched the form of Rhett Tangaroa slip into the mist and shadow. All he could do now was look to Emilio for permission. 

—

He waved, as promised. But something in him knew that the van would sit there for too long if he waited. So, with a sweeping bow, the warden took his exit. Backed away from the scene, bathed in the red of the taillights, that wild grin never leaving his face. 

Not until he turned on his heel and faced the darkness that loomed behind him. The forced exuberance wilted, eyes widening in the face of his own mortality. Wasn’t how he ever saw himself going. He fought for the greater good, sure, but only in the way he understood. Killing fae. This was… well, this was foreign. But, he thought to himself, suppose an old dog can learn new tricks. 

It was time to get to his spot. There were still hours to go, but Rhett wouldn’t be the one showing up unfashionably late and dooming the whole fuckin’ planet, not after all that game he’d been talking moments ago. 

One step forward, into the gathering fog. Do it for them. His heart thumped quickly in his chest. Do it for him.

Another step, and the warden was swallowed whole by the malignant force settling over the town. 

[virgil-achyls]

monstersfear

[pm] and you'll tkae it all? [del: i don;'t want it anymore. any of it.] i don' wnat to tlak aobtu it. i jdust want it gone. [del: i need it goen.] [...] what do i need ot do?

[pm] I’ll take everything you have.

I need your services. The ritual killings must be done. If you help, I will numb your pain again. Does that sound like something you can do?

[clayanddust]

@monstersfear​[pm] I don't like most of the words you used there.

I'm fine now. Nell fixed me up. I should thank- Hey, I appreciate you- I'm grateful that you- Thanks for doing the heavy lifting to get me out of there, I guess.

[pm]

Oh its fine, it was a beautiful moment 

You

Me

Burning chemicals

Collapsing timbers

The oily smell of charring organs

and the distant sound of the Devil shouting BAZINGA!!! to some new arrivals. 

Sweet memories

[chasseurdeloup-retired]

Fury & Flesh || Coyote Exorcism || Emilio, Jude, Metzli, and Kaden

TIMING: Same time as Spirit & Bone LOCATION: The woods near Regan’s death mound PARTIES: @monstersfear, @deathbecomes-jude, @deathisanartmetzli, @chasseurdeloup SUMMARY: Kaden and Jude go to Regan’s death mound while the exorcism is happening in the cabin, hoping to draw the coyotes away. Emilio and Metzli end up in the same place so they all get to meet some angry spectral coyotes.  CONTENT WARNINGS: Animal cruelty (mentioned/implied)

Emilio took a long drag from his cigarette, trudging along through the woods and keeping an ear open for nearby danger. He didn’t expect to find any. The paranoia that lived within the hunter’s chest tended to be reserved for him and him alone, uncaring of Regan’s problems or her claims that the world was out to get her. Of course, every time he’d assumed in the past that no one gave a shit about bones as much as Regan did, someone had come along to prove him wrong. Maybe eventually, Emilio would learn his lesson there.

Maybe it would be today.

He barely heard it. They were moving quietly, but not quietly enough to avoid being heard by the sharp ears of a hunter, especially not one as constantly vigilant and on edge as Emilio was. The snapping of a branch, so quiet it was barely a noise at all. Emilio stiffened, tensing as his eyes quickly swept the surrounding area to see — there. 

“Might as well come out,” he said dryly, voice carrying in the otherwise quiet forest. “You’re not as sneaky as you think you are.”

–

Jude carefully crept closer to the hut Regan was supposedly in. On their back, a large backpack full of bones weighed down on them, on their arms, dozens of runes inscribed in blood, needing just a last line to finish any number of pre-prepared spells. Both of healing and to cause wounds. They just needed to draw the attention of the shadow coyotes and bait them while the exorcist did her work. In and out, kept safe by the others, and if they failed, well… Jude had a backup sacrifice ready to go. 

As they spotted a figure roaming, they looked back to Kaden in surprise. There wasn’t supposed to be anyone else here. It was the hunter that had felt the waves of death coming off Jude, Emilio. Hopefully… it was just a coincidence, and they were just out hunting… well, the kind of beings Jude had brought with them. This could be problematic. 

Emilio turned to look at their direction, and spoke into the woods. It wouldn’t be long before he’d be able to sense an undead presence nearby, so Jude figured they’d give him something to sense, just to drag him away if his presence was a coincidence, and to keep him occupied if it wasn’t. They wordlessly and subtly tugged at the marionette strings of their magic, and held their breath, looking to Kaden for their cue. 

Twenty feet away, a half rotten porcupine ambled through the forest, not being quiet as it snuffled for some food it didn’t need. 

–

Metzli’s hand twitched on the branch of the tree they were in, thinking that Emilio had caught them. They smiled then, seeing the stranger act on such short notice. A distraction, red-herring that they were sure wouldn’t deter the slayer. They quirked a brow in thought. It was very possible he could be swindled into thinking he didn’t survey his area correctly. After all, they’d manage to follow him even with his innate ability to sense them. Taking a deep breath, they could smell the aroma of death surrounding them, both rotten and fresh. More like dirt than putrefied flesh. Smelled like home. But they couldn’t get lost in the musings of their safe dwelling. Danger was near, and they needed to get ahead of it. 

Propelling themselves from the tree, their silhouette broke through the treeline, the moon hitting them with its glow. “You’re really lacking in the surveillance skills lately. Can’t believe you caught a dead porcupine and not me.” They landed in a crouch, with the biggest shit-eating grin they could muster. “Got anything I can break?”

–

This would work. Kaden was sure of it. It had to work. Lil would find Regan, do the exorcism, no one would explode from a banshee scream, it’d be fine. 

He had a feelling, though, that the heaping pile of carcasses that he could smell from a good half a mile away wasn’t fine. “This way,” he told Jude as they walked towards the death mound. He wasn’t sure what the deal was with this coyote spirit or what exactly it was trying to get Regan to do, but he was pretty sure if something bad was going to happen outside of the cabin that might mess shit up, it was going to happen there. He still wasn’t entirely comfortable carrying his weapons again, but he didn’t have much of a choice. He was even less comfortable working with the necromancer who caused all this shit in the first place but it didn’t seem like he had much of a choice. “Should be–”

His words caught on his lips as he shut them tight to listen. Footsteps, small crunching leaves. He held his arm out to stop Jude from moving any farther. They stood still, but it was clear whoever or whatever was out there wasn’t walking away, but towards them. When he caught sight of who it was, he rolled his eyes. Should have known he’d be nearby. Kaden really didn’t want to hurt the guy too bad, but he was going to have no qualms kicking his ass a little after the crap he dragged Ari into. He’d buy him a drink later to make up for it, it’d be fine.

Kaden’s focus shot to the clearly once dead porcupine that was resurrected and shuffling not too far away, The ranger shot a glance at Jude and thought about punching them square in the jaw. Not yet. He needed them. That’d also have to be for later. “You. Make sure there are no other cursed bones over there,” he whispered to Jude. 

He took a deep breath and stepped out from their place behind the trees, holding his hands up in surrender. “Wasn’t trying to be sneaky, connard,” he said, casually as he could manage. “What are you doing out here, any–” Just as Kaden was about to take a step forward, a figure fell from the trees above. “What the–” That was the vampire, right? Metzli. And they seemed familiar with the slayer. His brow knit as he cautiously approached, slowly reaching for the knife at his side, completely unsure what he was getting into. 

–

The snapping twigs weren’t the only thing that clued him in to another presence; there was that twitch at the back of his neck, that unmistakable sense that told him something undead was near. The problem, of course, was the giant fucking mound of dead shit Regan had set up nearby. The first time he met her, she’d been pretty fucking set on the idea of nabbing the vampire he was fighting and taking it to her ‘death mound.’ For all Emilio knew, there were undead things buried beneath the bodies she’d collected, throwing his senses all over the place. He might have told her as much if he thought there was any possibility she’d listen.

Another branch snapped and, acting on instinct, the slayer tossed a knife in its direction, turning his head to follow the blade. It landed in front of… a fucking reanimated porcupine. Christ. What the fuck was wrong with people? He pulled another knife, ready to put the thing out of its misery, when a familiar voice sounded off from behind him. Immediately, Emilio tensed. 

The Frenchman showing up was exactly the kind of shit Regan was paranoid about. Emilio hated this town, a little, for continuing to prove her delusions about everyone being after her damn bones correct. He turned to snap something at Kaden, to start in a pointless argument where he’d tell the guy to leave, he’d refuse, and they’d punch each other until something changed, but before he could get a word out, someone else dropped down. 

This, Emilio thought, really wasn’t his night.

With Kaden on one side of him and Metzli on the other, Emilio was beginning to feel boxed in. And, like a wild animal, he didn’t take to the feeling well. He pulled out a knife in one hand, a stake in the other, and glanced wildly between the two. The distraction, though partially unintentional, was a good one; with two people to focus on, Emilio was unaware of the third presence nearby, the necromancer who was playing with his senses in the same way Metzli and that damn porcupine were.

“What, you two teaming up now?” He knew, even as he asked it, that the answer to the question was no. Kaden seemed surprised by Metzli’s presence, and Emilio doubted the ranger was a decent actor. “Leave. Both of you.” His eyes darted to Kaden. “Regan’s not here to keep me from kicking your ass this time, asshole.”

—

Jude met Kaden’s gaze without flinching, just a tiny shrug as if to ask what he expected. 

Unnoticed so far, Jude crept past the encounter, staying low and sticking as close to trees as they could. As far as they’d known, it was just Kaden and them on this, but another figure approached the group, and the tense lines in everyone’s shoulders made it clear this was no happy reunion. Jude reached the edge of the mound of corpses, nose barely wrinkling as they were almost unphased by the stench of death, and slowly slinked behind it until they were entirely hidden from the view of the trio. They smiled as they noticed a moose carcass, recently dragged onto the mound. Regan had found it on her walk after all. No cursed bones to speak of, though. 

The resurrected porcupine could have been a distraction for Emilio, but as it was no longer needed in that regard, Jude let it continue to bumble through the forest near the mound, neither interfering with the scene nor returning to them, as if it was just a visitor that was as drawn to the pile of death as much as the maggots and worms. They could barely hear the three voices as they pulled bundles of spell components out of their bag, but no one was coming closer, at once a blessing and a gift. They hurriedly arranged threads of string into runes and candles into pentacles, rats tails tied like ribbons around bone. glancing to and from their watch as the seconds ticked past. Ten seconds, fifteen. It was only through prior hours of preparation that the spell came together as quickly as it did. 

Technically, they’d agreed that damaging the mound would be enough to draw out the coyotes. If this had gone without a hitch, they might have stuck with that, them and Kaden punching a hole through some skulls. But there were two unknowns involved now, and Kaden was occupied with them. Jude could use another ally on their side, and they were out of time. The exorcism was due to start.

This cheap semblance of animation didn’t require any real sacrifice more than what had already been made in preparing the bundled spell components. All Jude had to do was thrust their hand in the decaying viscera of a nearby fox and drain the life out of a hundred freshly hatched maggots. White light crackled through the mound of decay. 

Bones of the moose began to assemble like grizzle covered parts of a lego toy. 

–

Just as quickly as they showed up, so too did other parties. Metzli didn’t like surprises, the sudden shift prompting them to unlatch their holster and pull their knife out in one swift motion. Kaden was with the stranger they’d already spotted and of course the two hunters knew one another. Murderers always ran in the same circles. Was why Metzli knew both of them in the first place. “Like hell I’d team up with this shitty hunter. He couldn’t kick my ass on a good day and I’d kick his now if I could.” Pulling the knife from Kaden, they steadied it closer to their body. Just in case. “But, I’m playing nice since he’s buddy-buddy with Macleod.” They blew a raspberry, and waved Kaden away in hopes of giving everyone some distance.

“I take it you two have tangoed with each other.” Eyes shifted between the two in amusement, and they bit their lip to stifle a laugh. If there was more time, Metzli would’ve taken the opportunity to pick on both, but they didn’t. They managed to break two bones, and while the vampire didn’t know much about anatomy, they knew there were definitely more than two bones in a skeleton. “Well, that’s the least of my problems. Emilio, whatever you’re protecting, I need it. And I won’t take no for an answer.” Rolling their eyes with a smile, they landed and stopped on Jude. Every note off of them reeked of magic—of a type of necromancy. Something they had just experienced themself. Only, this mocked death, and even the lives of creatures who once held breath in their lungs. It was like they were spitting on them. 

Sucking their teeth, Metzli dropped their knife to their side and backed away from everyone. Whatever was happening, they needed space to ensure they could assess properly. Especially with their impulsive need to annoy. Not even their soul could change that. “Ay! Tú,” Pointing a finger at Jude, they peered around Kaden and narrowed their eyes suspiciously. “Why are you messing with that pobre moose?”

–

“Putain, teaming up?” Kaden didn’t have a chance to be insulted before there was a knife held up towards him. From the vampire. Who was sporting one less arm than the last time he’d seen them. The ranger’s head tilted as he paused instead of slapping the weapon out of his face. They did have both arms the last time he saw them, right? It had been dark and all, but he was pretty damn sure. “Hey!” he shouted back as Metzli insulted him, pulling his own knife out, ready to go. “I could take you in a second, connard. I was just being gracious that time in the alley, got i– Wait?” His hand dropped slightly at the familiar name. “You know Macleod?” Huh. Guess this was a small town. Weirder yet was the thought that Macleod actually referred to him in any manner that was favorable. Kaden liked her well enough but he just assumed she didn’t care that much for him overall. Huh. Guess that was nice. 

The nice feelings didn’t last very long. “Tangoed?” Kaden huffed out a laugh. “If you mean he tried to break into my fucking apartment for a goddamn bone, sure, yeah, we tangoed.” Kaden wasn’t sure who he was looking forward to decking first. Did the plan involve him punching anyone? No, not necessarily. He still planned to all the same. “Wait, you think I need her help? Putain de merde, if anyone needed her help it was you.” Yeah, he was definitely throwing punches before this was over. “I’m not leaving. You lea–”

His focus shifted as his head turned back towards Jude and the very dead moose that was somehow back on all fours. Kaden’s eyes narrowed as he looked at the necromancer. They were on the same side. They were on the same side. If he kept saying that, maybe he’d remember that. He didn’t know what the fuck he was doing with that moose yet, but he knew he didn’t want to be on the other side of those antlers. He had to work with the necromancer who tortured animals. He had to work with them. For now. 

A scream pierced through the clearing, all the way from the cabin. Kaden winced, the sound pounding in his ears. They were a half a mile off from the cabin. The scream had to be loud. Regan was in trouble. A pit sunk in his stomach, instincts telling him to turn and run towards the sound. No, no. Regan wasn’t in trouble. The coyote was. He hoped. He had to help here. He had to make sure Emilio didn’t interrupt. And with the shock of the scream, he figured he had a second. A second that he took to grab Emilio closer and slam his fist into the slayer’s jaw. Now who needed Regan’s help?

–

If the look on Metzli’s face and the knife in their hand were anything to go by, they weren’t working with Kaden. Unfortunately, that didn’t exactly make them an ally, either. Emilio knew the vampire was here with one goal in mind, just as they had been at the cabin when they’d broken those damn bones and left him floundering. There was no version of this story that ended well for him; there never was. Kaden and Metzli might not have come here together, but it was clear they were on the same side nonetheless. And that side was the one that was going to fuck up Emilio’s life over some goddamn bones. Christ. He should’ve left this town when he had the fucking chance. 

“If you weren’t a stubborn fucking ass too obsessed with his ex to let go of a couple of worthless goddamn bones, I wouldn’t have had to break in,” he protested, as if Kaden was somehow wrong to be upset here. Emilio knew he didn’t have much of a leg to stand on in this particular argument, but he was stubborn and angry and stupid enough to argue anyway. He usually was. “I can’t leave, you stupid — “

He broke off as Metzli shouted at something behind them, whirled around to look with the hand holding the knife at the ready. His attention was split three ways now, and in spite of the magic causing its own kind of a distraction, he didn’t have to squint to recognize the third figure in the circle. “Oh, you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” Who else was going to come out of the woodwork here? The guy he’d punched at the bar? The aquarium security guard? Levi? It was like a fucking class reunion of Emilio’s recent physical altercations. 

And then — a scream from the cabin. Emilio whirled around, going against instinct and turning his back on all three of the ‘enemies’ in his vicinity to look back in the direction of the cabin instead. Regan was screaming, which meant Regan was in trouble. Which meant, as per the fucking promise he was tied up in, Emilio needed to go. The crowd here was a distraction; he should have realized it sooner.

He only managed half a step towards the cabin before Kaden yanked him close enough to throw a punch, landing his knuckles against the side of Emilio’s face with enough force to cause the slayer to stumble backwards. That faint but still present self preservation instinct told him to take off towards the cabin, but as usual, the anger that burned in his chest was a little hotter. He took a swing at Kaden, no thought going into the action at all. The knife had been dropped, though it was hard to say if it was an intentional move to keep him from accidentally stabbing a guy he didn’t actually want to stab or a happy accident. He wasn’t really considering it. The only thing on his mind was how much he wanted to hit Kaden in the fucking face. As soon as the ranger had a bruise on his jaw to match the one on Emilio’s, he could take off towards the cabin and figure out how to stop whatever was going on with Regan. His priorities were just fine, as always.

—

Jude swayed from the exertion of the spell, and looked over at the group as one of them addressed Jude in Spanish. They cocked an eyebrow. “Making friends!” They replied, trying to meet Kaden’s eyes. Every second that this spell kept the moose animated, the coyotes were more and more of a risk. And with as many coyotes due as they suspected were coming, they needed Kaden here. Their moose was a glass cannon, and the porcupine wasn’t what anyone would call agile. They met his narrowed eyes, and pursed their lips. He’d have to get over it. Once the medical examiner was free, they’d meet whatever youthful judgement they were owed then. 

Before the coyotes came the scream. Loud and piercing, as if it was someone right beside them. Jude spun on the mound, but there was no one there. Another ghost, maybe? In their pocket was a pouch of salt that they wielded in front of them, swinging it firmly around, but any ghost made no appearance. 

The scream also roused a response from the group, but unlike Jude, they seemed to recognise it immediately, a thought that made their stomach drop. They watched Emilio try to leave, Kaden take a swing at his face, and wondered where the third one stood. Hopefully, with them. 

As the fist fest began, the air temperature around Jude began to drop, and apparitions began to appear around them. One, after another after another. 

A dozen growling spectral coyotes, ears pinned to the back of their head, teeth bared.  A dozen pairs of eyes starving for revenge. 

“I’ve got company over here!”

—

Metzli stood between the men, dumbfounded by the amount of density the two created with what they saw as stupidity. Really they were just impatient, over the situation they had volunteered themself for to save their friend. Having a conscience really put a wrench in their self-preservation, but they didn’t mind too much. Not when their decision brought the opportunity to mess with two hunters. They at least had that going for them. “Of course I know Macleod. She’s my partner. And you,” They shifted their focus toward Emilio, but soon found that the attempt to speak was futile when they both went into attack mode. 

As the two idiots duked out whatever pissing contest they began, Metzli honed in on Jude instead. “Okay, so you’re making friends. I’m guessing if you’re with this idiot, you’re here to—” To fight something. But they didn’t have time to voice that or seek an answer. The piercing scream from the cabin made them nauseous almost instantly. Everything happened at once, coming together in a jarring crescendo. The likes of which matched the all too familiar scream. Regan was either killing someone or in pain. Both scenarios made Metzli’s stomach wrench in a way that made their body twitch. Enough to step forward to get to their friend, but again, there was another interruption. “Puta madre. Que chingados—okay. Okay.” The hairs on their neck bristled and they slipped their knife back into its holster, only to retrieve another. An iron one that Macleod had given them. 

“Don’t worry chiquitín,” Metzli remarked toward Jude, standing in front of them. “I can cover you so long as you cover me a little, chale?” They gritted their teeth and let out a growl, baring their own teeth in return to the coyotes. Each spectral beast’s body language screamed threats, but the vampire’s were just as loud, not caving into fear because there was none to feel. They just hoped Kaden and Emilio would get their shit together long enough to fight with them. 

–

The satisfaction of decking the slayer in the face didn’t last long. It was quickly replaced with the pain of knuckles slamming into his own jaw. Putain de merde. Kaden saw it coming, but he wasn’t pleased with it all the same. He reeled back at the punch and was about to throw himself back into the fight when he felt a wash of cold air rush past just before he heard Jude’s cry. 

Shit. The fucking coyotes were here. He had to help contain them, but he definitely had to make sure Emilio wasn’t going anywhere, either. Kaden stomped his heel down at the slayer’s foot and threw his elbow towards him, hoping to slow the slayer enough to give the ranger time to help his necromantic companion. If nothing else, he hoped it’d piss him off long enough to stick around.

Kaden turned to see Metzli ready to ward off the shadowy coyotes that had set their sights straight on Jude. Putain, that was one pissed off coyote. If it wasn’t possessing Regan, he had a feeling he would be on its side. 

But that wasn’t the present situation, so the ranger charged towards the spectres, reaching for the stupid pack of salt Lil convinced him to carry around after their last encounter. He tossed a few pieces at one or two of them. Pits formed in their wispy shapes as they turned towards Kaden, growling and teeth bared. He readied his knife as they sprinted for him, fangs headed straight for his ankles. 

How the hell ghosts were able to sink in and yank his leg, he didn’t know, but he didn’t have time to question, simply slashed out at the one on his leg, digging his knife into its back and giving it a twist. Kaden twisted to face the second beast, ready to stab the spectral creature before it leapt at him. Only he saw a flash of gold. The eyes. It couldn’t—

He faltered just long enough for the claws to dig into him, sending him backwards as the other tried to drag his leg forwards.

–

The coyotes arrived soon after the scream and with them came the familiar pounding in the slayer’s chest. He’d really only had one experience with the coyotes, the first night he’d met Regan, but he remembered it well. Well enough that she’d found them an effective threat to use against him in the time since, even if she hadn’t followed through on it. Logically, he knew they were playing for the same team here, even if he wasn’t exactly as willing a participant as the ghostly canines seemed to be, but the quiet prickle of fear on the back of his neck remained despite the logic. He didn’t envy Jude, who seemed to be the coyotes’ primary target here… but he was glad to know someone else was in their sightlines. That suited him just fine.

The fact that they provided an adequate distraction for Kaden was a plus, too. 

The ranger turned towards the necromancer, and as much as Emilio wanted to continue their altercation, he knew he needed to take his chance and make a break for it to find out what the hell they were here to keep him from interrupting. There was some guilt with it, of course — he was doing everything in his power to stop a group of people from helping their friend here — but it couldn’t be helped. As per usual, Emilio had to lay in the bed he’d made for himself whether he liked it or not. 

Of course, Kaden couldn’t make it easy on him. A heel slammed down on his foot, an elbow found his ribs with enough accuracy to knock the air from his lungs, and Emilio let out a frustrated grunt as he stumbled backwards. Kaden was gone before he could retaliate, but since the damn coyotes seemed pretty intent on tearing the ranger to shreds, Emilio figured any punches he threw would be overkill, anyway. He paused for a moment, the old instinct to help a fellow hunter who was clearly in need of a hand fighting against the promise bind tugging him back towards the cabin. Kaden was an asshole, but he was only here because he was trying to save someone he loved. So was Metzli. Maybe Jude was, too, though Emilio didn’t know for sure on that one. Either way, leaving the three of them for coyote bait felt wrong. But…

Emilio had people he loved, too. And he couldn’t keep them safe if he was dealing with whatever consequences this promise would make him pay if broken. 

He’d get Regan to call the coyotes off once he got to her. She’d agree, anyway; he’d seen clearly enough at Kaden’s apartment that she didn’t want to hurt her ex, tested the waters a little by asking her about him after. Whatever was possessing her had a strong hold, but she was still capable of containing it long enough to make sure the people she cared about were okay, and Kaden still landed pretty high on that list. He got the sense Metzli did, too. When he explained what was going on, she’d call the coyotes back and everyone would be fine. 

Hoping the coyotes would provide a sufficient distraction to make up for the fact that there was no way he’d be moving quickly after Kaden’s last attack, Emilio turned back towards the cabin and attempted to slip away. 

—

Chiquitin. The word made Jude smile, and they nodded in agreement. Cover for cover. 

Surrounded with a hunter, a one armed individual with blood in their eyes, a skeletal moose and a mummified porcupine, they felt the first vestiges of the possibility of success. Until they didn’t. Kaden dragged down, Emilio turning instead of helping. They yanked on the necrotic threads of life force for the porcupine, sending it barreling towards Kaden. Iron threads had carefully been twisted around many of its keratinous spikes, so while it was slow, when it reached them, the iron spikes dragged holes through the spectral coyotes. If mist could hiss and sputter like a boiling kettle, that was what these coyotes did, starting to melt into nothing. 

Jude snarled, pulling pen from pocket. They looked down at their bared arms, covered in almost-finished spells that just needed an extra pen-stroke to complete. Only as many spells prepared as they had skin bared, and the resurrection had been a big one. They drew a last line on another spell they had prepared, as white light crackled from the veins in their wrist along to their fingertips, and jumped into Kaden, a healing spell to get him back up. It slithered around the bite strangely, as if even the spell was confused by the lack of huge gaping holes in Kaden’s legs.

Unfortunately, the coyotes didn’t wait for Jude to be ready for the next attack. A dozen deaths demanded a dozen revenges, as four pounced right for Jude’s body. Their moose, tasked only with the responsibility of keeping Jude alive, barreled into the party, antlers down as it tried to gore the coyotes with limited success, just knocking Jude off their feet and onto their ass. The coyotes’ lips curled before pouncing at the moose,  scattering bones as it fell apart like a jenga tower. 

“Shit!”  Jude grabbed a giant femur, pushing it into the mouth of one of the coyotes. The moose bones rattled and tried to reassemble themselves without the femur, but the bone in Jude’s hand was already beginning to crack. 

–

It didn’t take a genius to see that the group was fucked based on numbers alone. But Metzli never was that bright, and they always took being backed into a wall as a challenge. A battle to see who had the hardest head. They’d given enough knockout blows with their noggin that it didn’t seem too far out there to turn the odds back in their favor. Despite how Kaden seemed to be down for the count, they were willing to persist. Having weathered so many storms, Metzli had become one themself. With a core like a volcano that filled them with a cache of pain just waiting to be unleashed upon their enemies. Because of this, they had a way with monsters. Such as the coyotes that dared instigate a fight.

Cocking their knife back, Metzli whispered their hope and anger into their attack, splitting their worries with a feverish battle cry. The spectral beasts at Kaden’s legs dissipated with the iron, but they didn’t know for how long, and they didn’t have time to ponder. They just hoped it wasn’t a lethally permanent wound. For Regan’s sake, at the very least. They didn’t think she’d be able to forgive herself if she was an accessory to Kaden’s demise. Luckily, the spellcaster that had come along with the warden had a few tricks, mocking the coyote’s attacks and undoing them right before their eyes. Metzli smiled excitedly, the alert in their chest warming up the hope as they watched the tides shift ever so slightly. 

With that motivation, they holstered their knife and charged toward Emilio. Their arm wrapped tightly around his legs and stopped him in his tracks, preventing him from doing the one thing he was bound to do. Metzli’s heart ached to know they were damning him, but that hope was a blaze and they had to believe that it would all be okay. It all happened so fast anyway. They barely had time to think. He wouldn’t understand, but undoing his perspective couldn’t be a priority when lives were on the line. 

“Emilio! ¡Ya!” Metzli exclaimed, desperately trying to keep him pinned. “You’re gonna get everyone killed! Stop fighting this! ” Limbs grew frantic to keep the slayer down, realizing the trouble Jude was about to be in as they occupied themself with Emilio. Their reanimated guards were failing, fast, and Metzli knew they were next. The coyotes circled the pair, and they shielded Emilio with their body, unsure if they coyotes saw him as an ally. 

“Kaden! Get to your friend! I’ve got it over here!” Or so they hoped. 

–

Putain. Kaden didn’t expect to die by shadow coyote and he wasn’t even sure it was possible, but it sure wasn’t looking good. He braced his arm against the coyote, which was surprisingly solid for a specter, and caught sight of Emilio for a second, sure that the slayer was going to help. And then he walked away. The fucking piece of shit walked away. A flurry of curse words swirled in Kaden’s mind and off his lips as he continued to fight off the coyote. If he just had a second to free one of his hands and use his damn knife, he could maybe–

The spirits melted away almost as quickly as they had shown up and in their place was the waddling porcupine, still very dead, but walking all the same. Kaden blinked, staring back at the creature. How had it…? Squinting, he noticed something strange about the spikes. But there was no way that– Alright, Jude brought the thing back to life along with a moose and tortured the coyote in question, they very much would be the type to turn the porcupine into a weapon against ghosts with iron on its quills. 

He winced as he tried to get up. That piece of shit ghost did a number on it. As he was planning to limp away and brace against the pain, a string of light wrapped around his leg, relieving the pain. His brow furrowed, trying to put the pieces together, only to hear the clattering of bones and whining canine spirits. Metzli sprinted past him towards the slayer as Kaden was finding his footing, heading back to Jude. “Friend is a fucking strong word!” he shouted, running head first the coyotes and the shambling moose that was looking a little worse for wear. Somehow. 

Kaden pulled the pistol from his pocket, aimed and shot the ghost directly on top of Jude. The rock salt pellets tore through one of the coyotes, the spirit stumbling as it began to melt away like the others had before. He hoped those hadn’t hit Jude, but his concern was minimal at best. One was too preoccupied with Jude’s arm to notice the hunter, but the others spun and snarled, turning on Kaden. He shot again but this time the shadowy shapes knew better, blinking and twisting out of the way. The closest coyote leapt onto Kaden’s arm while the other went for his leg. The ranger shot the first one point blank. Still not fast enough, the ghost simply faded and reappeared at Kaden’s back, digging its spectral claws into him. Putain. He dropped the gun and reached for another knife, kicking the second beast away from his knees before plunging the iron knife through the specter. What was that, now, four down? Not bad. Even if the one was still on his back. Kaden tried to slam it into a tree but only felt the wind knocked out of his own lungs as he smacked into the tree. 

–

Acidic guilt burned in the back of his throat at the thought of leaving the others to fight the coyotes alone, but what choice did he have? He didn’t know what would happen to him if he broke this promise. And besides, the coyotes were going to keep coming until Regan called them off, anyway, weren’t they? He’d be more help to this group of assholes by getting her to call them off than he would be by sticking around and letting them make a chew toy out of him.

The silent justification of his decision to leave did little to ease the guilt swirling in his chest, and maybe that was why Emilio missed Metzli’s approach. Or maybe it was the way he’d been fucking losing it for months now, or the way the whole damn forest seemed to be setting off his undead sense. It didn’t matter much what the reasoning was; all that mattered was that when Metzli came at him, Emilio didn’t realize it until it was too late. Their arm wrapped around his legs and he stumbled, falling to the forest floor.

As soon as he hit the ground, he started to struggle. Throwing out his elbows, kicking his legs, throwing his head back in an attempt to make some kind of contact. He heard the leaves crunching as the few coyotes who weren’t focused on Kaden and the necromancer approached, and he had no idea if they’d attack him or not. Technically he was on their side here, but did spectral coyote spirits bound to a possessed banshee recognize that sort of thing? Emilio wasn’t exactly eager to find out. 

“Get off me.” There was a note of panic in his voice that he’d deny later, a genuine edge of fear. At the coyotes, at the endless possibilities of what might happen if this promise was broken, at the simple fact that he was pinned to the forest floor by a vampire even if it was a vampire he begrudgingly trusted. “Get off. You’re the one who’s going to get me killed. I have to — I’ll get her to call them off. That’s the only way they’re going to leave.” 

He wasn’t sure if it was true, didn’t know if there was some other way to get the coyotes to leave them alone, but he knew that this was the only way to stop the coyotes and keep himself from facing the consequences of the broken promise. Was it selfish? Absolutely. But Emilio wasn’t only thinking of himself, despite what it might seem. Fighting the coyotes would do nothing. There were too many of them to take on, even between all four of them, and there was no way to chase them off permanently without Regan’s interference. 

Desperately, Emilio continued to lash out against Metzli’s weight pinning him down. “Please, Metzli, please, you have to let me go. I can help them.” And himself, too.

—

Jude’s shoulder stung as a stray rocksalt bullet pierced through them, but mostly they sighed in relief as the teeth inches from their face dissipated into smoke. Even as they should have had their heart pounding, it was unnaturally calm, seemingly unconcerned by gunfire or vengeful ghosts. They scrambled to their feet, snatching up their dropped salt pouch as the moose slowly reassembled itself. It didn’t know how to. Where before each bone had sat where it was in life, now it only knew the framework of a moose. Its legs were made of antler and ribs, its spine of tibulas and maxilla and mandible. Its face was no face at all, hip sockets where eye sockets once were. It guarded Jude and became smaller every time a spectral coyote broke through it, fractured bones no longer usable for a skeletal form. As more of the coyotes encircled Jude, working as a pack with one mind, they flinched as they heard Kaden hit a tree with spectacular force.

They turned to try to cast a spell to help him, but after all their deaths and resurrections, this time the coyotes wizened up. One snapped at their wrist, knocking the pen from Jude’s hand and leaving the spell unfinished, only to dissipate as Jude swung their salt at it, but another slammed into their knees. Another bit their other arm, pulling it away so they couldn’t cast anything else. Jude’s knees hit a soft pile of mud and rotting meat as pain seared through their joints as sharp as lightning, and the moose that had been trying to defend them collapsed into a pile of bone, and the porcupine couldn’t trundle fast enough. Each bite was like molten magma poured into their bones, electric heat cooking their skin. The world tilted.

“Jude, we came to a decision. You’re too powerful.” An older woman with long braids told Jude kindly, looming over them, her long full skirt dragging against Jude’s shins. Except she’d never known them as Jude. They’d been Dolly back then, because they’d missed being a woman, and had resumed it for that lifetime. It had been a harder one, but a slower one, and as Head Witch of the Vermont coven leant over Jude, they weren’t sure it had been worth it. But none of the coven knew what Jude was capable of. Jude reached for their pen, a quill back then, but they could never quite reach it. Their mind was made sluggish by a mental caster. “It’ll be alright, Jude. You’ll barely feel it.” Jude. No, Jude wasn’t the right name for this lifetime, wasn’t the right fit for the flavour they’d been back then, in stays and bespoke made dresses. 

The image of the Vermont Coven flickered, and for a second Jude could see the coyotes again. But the high priestess reached down, and tilted Jude’s face up to hers. They didn’t remember it, her name, but they remembered how she’d smiled as it began to rain around them, how thunder had crackled through the air. 

“Only one second, Jude,” She said, raising her other hand to the sky. Lightning lassoed to her hand, and shot straight through her into them. Jude’s jaw tightened and every muscle clenched right up, their body a livewire. Whether it was the roaring electricity of a century old witch’s curse or thousands of synapses firing at once, Jude’s heart finally began to race as their muscles contracted until their bones began to groan under the strain. 

The witches in their vision grinned. The coyotes around them bared their teeth as others bit deeper still. 

Only seconds after it finally began to race, Jude’s heart slowed again. This time, it slowed to a stop. 

��

The grip around Emilio’s legs waned at the desperation in his voice. It pulled at the newly forged strings in Metzli’s chest. They knew they were damning him in some way. Making decisions was nearly impossible though. Each option presented a victim, a sacrifice to offer in return. Fate, as they had learned, required balance. The impartial entity spared no one no matter the plea, so Metzli settled to do the same as bullets fired, Emilio thrashed, coyotes growled, and exclamations of pain mixed together.

Spectral beasts closed in, and so too did the vampire. Metzli covered Emilio with their body, only letting go for a breath to grab their knife. “Fuck off!” They swiped, growling and sliding up to tighten their legs around the slayer, firmly keeping him in place. Coyotes snapped and swiped, finding purchase in the Metzli’s skin, tearing. Dead blood lathered their skin, but they didn’t wave a white flag. They couldn’t afford to. 

“I won’t let you get killed, okay?” Metzli swiped, “I can make this right.” Another swipe, but this time, it was followed by a push. The blade sank and they twisted it, making the final coyote of that push yelp and disappear. With a renewed and cautious enthusiasm, Metzli let out a dry chuckle. Their body stung and ached, but they had managed to help in some way, despite their not-so-brilliant plan. 

The area grew too quiet, though. When the realization of that hit, Metzli whipped their gaze around the whole area, landing on Jude and hearing nothing. Nothing. “Kaden!” They requested, pointing with their knife. “Check them! I can’t hear anything! Their heart!”

—

Kaden barely had time to catch his breath when he felt the cold breath down his neck, the teeth sinking in, piercing his skin. Fucking ghost coyotes shouldn’t be able to cause this much pain but that thought wasn’t enough to keep the scream from tearing out of him, made from the little bit of breath left in his lungs. He doubled over and used the momentum to throw the coyote over his shoulder. It felt like his flesh was being torn from his neck, but it was hard to tell what the hell was spectral and what was corporeal anymore. Didn’t matter. All Kaden had to do was fumble for his iron knife, twisting around to stab the shadowy coyote. It started to yelp and melt away at the first contact, but that didn’t stop the ranger from raising the knife and stabbing the spirit again and again, rage pouring through him in a way it hadn’t for a while now. 

The knife dug into the dirt one more time before Kaden noticed the growls and screams coming from Jude’s direction. Shit. Shit. His attention snapped to the necromancer who was covered in coyotes. He stumbled to pick himself up and run to help. He would help. He had to help. 

The snarls grew louder and the shouting slowed. No. Kaden shot off another salt pellet. And another. Two were gone but it didn’t seem to make a difference; there was only one thing they cared about, only one person they wanted to suffer. When he was in reach, Kaden slashed his knife through the canine bodies, pushing it through them to get to the spellcaster, ignoring the claws scratching at him and the teeth bared towards him. With a flurry of iron, Kaden was able to clear the way long enough to see Jude.

“Jude, come on,” the ranger said as he grabbed their shoulder, shaking them despite the wounds covering them, trying to wake them from the shock. That’s what it was. Shock. He was sure of it. 

Their body went limp and Kaden tried again, grabbing Jude by the shoulders and pulling them to sit upright as their head lolled back. “Wake up. This isn’t funny. We have to get out of here before…” The true state of their wounds settled into Kaden’s vision, starting to make sense. The pieces were coming together, but he refused to let it be true. “There might be…” He felt their skin growing cold against his hands.

No.

Kaden reached to their neck to feel their pulse.

It was–

“No.” The word was more like a whisper than anything. Kaden’s hands released before he could think to do otherwise, letting the body flop back on top of the pile of bones and carcass surrounding them. The limp, mangled body.

The body.

All that was left was a body. Kaden was responsible for another body. In the woods. 

He was frozen. Stuck. His eyes were glued to the body. If there was more danger, anything else, he couldn’t tell, couldn’t say. The world went silent and stopped as he stared at the body of the spellcaster he’d let die in the woods. 

—

For a moment, Metzli faltered. For a moment, Emilio thought they might let up, thought he might have something resembling a chance. But only for a moment. Their grip tightened on him again between one heartbeat and the next, protective and damning all at once. Enhanced strength might have given him more of a shot if the coyotes nipping at the vampire’s skin weren’t adding to the challenge of it all, if Kaden’s shouts and Jude’s struggles weren’t distracting him, if he’d wanted to leave half as much as he should have. 

When it became clear he had no real shot at breaking free, Emilio stilled beneath the vampire, chest tight. He let out a laugh at their words, strangled and humorless. “You’re the one who’s going to get me killed,” he said flatly, though there was no real heat behind it. He’d known for some time now that this fae bind wasn’t going to work out in his favor, known that between Metzli and Kaden and all the rest of Regan’s friends who wanted to achieve something that would undoubtedly lead to Emilio’s promise being broken, he’d never stood much of a chance at all. Emilio knew well enough to know how to accept when something was over. 

And a lot of things were over right now.

The air shifted as Metzli spoke, a new kind of chaos overtaking them. Jude’s heartbeat was a hard one to read — Emilio had noticed that the first time he met them in the graveyard and almost stuck a stake in their chest — but he couldn’t hear it at all now. He shifted beneath Metzli again, this time towards the necromancer instead of towards the cabin. Kaden’s voice, a whisper that might as well have been a damn scream, was enough to tell him what was going on. 

It was an old story; someone was dead, and none of them had stopped it from happening. Emilio hadn’t known Jude well, hadn’t liked them much better, but the guilt that settled into his chest was there all the same. 

But there wasn’t time, was there? There wasn’t time to mourn, wasn’t time to fall apart. There never was. “The coyotes will be back,” he said hoarsely, letting his head drop against the forest floor. “If you let me go, I can get her to keep them away from you. That’s what I was trying to do before.” Not the only thing he was trying to do, sure, but certainly on the agenda. 

—

Metzli knew the necromancer was dead long before Kaden’s reaction confirmed it. Cemented it with every plea. Every shake hammered the rusted nails in, and though there was a resistance, there was no stopping death. Their shoulders sank, looking back at Emilio with defeat in their eyes. Empathy was a son of a bitch, but they couldn’t let it latch onto them and be a distraction because Emilio was right. The coyotes’ departure was only temporary.

“I’m sorry,” They choked out, disheartened and defeated. Metzli wanted desperately to do the right thing, but none of the paths fit their wishes. “No matter who I help, someone is going to get hurt.” They said it aloud, but they were mostly saying it to themself. Their eyes tightened shut, and they finally relented, moving from atop Emilio.

With him set free, Metzli bolted to Jude and Kaden, sliding next to them in a rush. Their hands hovered over their body, trying to find something to do, but all they could hear was Kaden’s thundering heart and the shake in his breaths. They were already so cold, and they knew there was nothing that could be done, so they just watched Emilio in the distance, hoping things would turn out okay.

—

Words were spoken, but Kaden couldn’t process the noise. Shapes moved as bodies moved around him, but all he saw was the one body. Just one. Lifeless on the death mound, just another dead thing added to the pile. And Kaden hadn’t done anything to stop it. 

He had to move. Right? And then… do what, exactly? Kaden didn’t know. The only next step he could come up with was “stand.” Anything beyond that, he couldn’t figure out. 

Stand. He could start there. 

Kaden stood and managed to peel his eyes away from the body in time to see the shadowy wisps across the way. A howl pierced through the clearing as the fog took shape, the sound growing louder as the teeth and claws coming into focus. At first it was just three, then it was five, and before he knew it, they were surrounded by a dozen shadow coyotes, back and ready for round two. The ranger didn’t know if he was ready for a round two, not when he felt this numb. But he had to, he always fucking had to fight. Iron knife in hand, Kaden braced himself for another fight, pointless as it seemed to be.

A yelp screamed to his left and Kaden’s head shot just in time to see the shadows twist out of existence. Then another to his right. Until it was all around him, yelps and the spectral coyotes fading away as quickly as they came. 

The ranger furrowed his brows, slowly looking around, trying to figure out what just happened. Were they safe? Really gone? His knuckles went white as he tightened his grip around the knife, waiting for the rug to be pulled out from under him, but nothing came. Just silence.

“It’s over,” he said. Nothing left but quiet. And death. 

—

Metzli’s weight disappeared from on top of him, but Emilio still felt heavy. He still felt as though he was being crushed, still felt as though he couldn’t get up from where he lay on the forest floor. He needed to run while he could, he knew, needed to take advantage of this distraction to go find out what the hell was going on with Regan and make sure she stopped before anyone else died, but… 

All he could focus on was the damn corpse. The body of another person dead before he could do anything to stop it. He got to his feet slowly, cautiously, but he made no move towards the direction of the cabin in spite of the tug of the promise bind trying to pull him that way. He made no move towards Kaden, Regan, or the body, either. Instead, he just stood in place, uncertain and uneasy. 

It shouldn’t have been a surprise when the coyotes reappeared; in a way, Emilio had sort of known it was coming. Every time he’d encountered them so far, any effort to remove them had only ever proven temporary. They disappeared long enough to regain their strength, or whatever it was they did, and then they came back with their teeth just as sharp and their eyes just as angry. This was no different. 

What was different was that Emilio didn’t use their presence as a distraction this time; instead, he pulled an iron knife from his pocket and held it tightly, ready to fight the beasts off. He’d never make it to the cabin before they tore Kaden and Metzli apart. He knew that. But… apparently, he didn’t have to. 

There was a yelp, quick and sharp, and then there was nothing. The coyotes were gone. Emilio’s stomach sank. This meant there was nothing left to fight… but it also meant that whatever had been going on with Regan was probably over now. And Emilio hadn’t stopped it. The promise he’d made to protect her and her fucking bones had been broken. Dread twisted in his gut. 

“It’s over,” he echoed Kaden’s sentiment flatly, a hint of bitterness to his tone. Whatever consequence he’d face for his failure was an inevitable thing now. He knew that.

—

There were many things that made a person, many things that made a heart twist and turn in a chest as a reminder that they were still living. Even if the heart itself was quite physically dead. Metzli’s did as much when they watched Emilio stand and decide to fight for and not against. There was a kind of power behind such a sentiment. He was robbed of choice, something so intimately his, one of the only things that could never leave him. Good or bad, those choices were meant to be his, and despite the consequences, Emilio stood up for himself and everyone else, informing what he had decided to stand against. The shock of it crescendoed in a way that reached everyone, ricocheting back to him until he crumbled.

“Emilio!” Metzli propelled themself forward, ignoring everything else around them. Kaden was alive and the coyotes were gone, and they needed to get to their friend. They would keep calling him that despite his persistent rejection. They never needed his forgiveness to place that label, to do what was right, and they would never ask for it. Their atonement required a sacrifice of pride, but when it came to Emilio, Metzli wasn’t seeking such a thing. What they were after was his familialship, the bond that had been created out of such tragedy. They wanted to make art out of the pieces of what was broken, and make something new. So they ran, not away, but to, and caught Emilio in their arm as he collapsed from the weight of the broken promise.

The pain he was feeling was palpable, but he wasn’t dead. A sigh broke out of Metzli’s lungs and they guided him to the ground, holding him close. “It’s over,” They murmured, holding their uneasiness in their mind until they could feel their desire for his survival gripping them. The sensation coursed through them, bringing Emilio closer to Metzli’s chest, and they counted every beat of his rapid heart. It continued, and that’s all they could ask for. Somehow their wish was being granted, and they knew better than to question it. Eilidh had taught them not to. 

[exleviathan]

@monstersfear:

[pm] [del: Go fuck yourself you goddamn-] [del: I'm going to tear your leg off and beat you to death with it.] First off, I don't need to know how to kill a demon to kill you. You aren't a demon anymore. You're a normal, killable human now. Remember?

Second, you should tell me because the demon that might come for me knows about Teddy. There's only one thing you and me agree on, asshole, and it's that we want him to be all right. Unless you're full of shit there.

[ pm ] For now.

The demon that might come for you? Hang on, hang on... is this totally unrelated to the whole trash cult thing? Is this a different demon? Fuck, you really are a magnet, aren’t you? Weird. Someone oughtta dissect you for science, see if you’ve got some runes on those bones, too.

[...]

I’m not full of shit. Who is it?

[ironcladrhett-archive]

@monstersfear​: 

Ought to be asking what the handle's made out of.

.

Mm, aluminum would be problematic. Then you’d need the water weight. Stupidest thing you’ve ever fought with, go. Mine’s a... dishtowel.

[letsbenditlikebennett]

@monstersfear [pm] Should have known you'd be into that shit. He'll help you paint your van, but I'm not picking up a [...] brush. [del: Or whatever you use for that.]

But it is good. It'll be good. He's going to [...] help with the bind shit. 

Don't ask him about that.

[pm] Sweet, I want a sunflower van because I’m a ray of sunshine... or something. Either way, I can see the color yellow and it’ll look cool. Yeah, yeah, you can watch and drink beers, boss. 

Good, if he’s a warden he’s gotta be smarter than us. 

Why would you tell me if you didn’t want me to ask? Of course I’m gonna ask now. 

[...]

Super unrelated, but I have an exorcist stopping by. She said I shouldn’t be alone right now, so uh, if you wanna spend time alone with Teddy just drop me by Kaden’s first. And don’t crash my van because I will punch you if you do. 

[nicsalazar]

@monstersfear​

[pm] Again? When did I- [user remembers this was his excuse for Hekkles.] Oh, right. No, I didn't get hacked again.

Wait, do you mean the shit going on with Teddy's account? Nothing god-like about that guy, don't worry. Just an asshole who stole someone's phone. I'm working on getting it back for him.

Appreciate the concern, though. I'll keep an eye on my phone. You should probably keep an eye on yours, too. And on you. This town is- Things are happening every week lately, and it's-

[pm] Alright. Had to check. Someone pointed out this shit was happening again.

I don’t know a Teddy. But maybe [user fails to link account, links this instead] Looks like the name on the account I got sent. Huh Didn’t look like a  But at this point I have no clue what’s tru Glad you got his back.

Yeah, sure. ¿Está todo bie Probably should, don’t have the best track record. You been busy? Thinking of going for a couple of drink tonight.

[faetedwill]

@monstersfear

That's what I've been saying.

What do you use instead? Once met a man who used a stick taped to a sponge. 

[oceansrevenge]

The Ties That Bind || Emilio & Marina

TIMING: Current PARTIES: @monstersfear & @oceansrevenge SUMMARY: With their green ball induced friendship going strong, Marina goes to visit Emilio the day following a certain banshee’s scream. 

Of all the strange turns her life had taken, Marina never expected to consider a hunter such a dear friend. Before, she’d been too blinded by knowing what he was to truly take into account just what an interesting person he was, how he could understand her in ways no one else ever had. He was her very best friend and keeping him bound in a debt to her simply didn’t feel right. Not anymore. Maybe it never had been, but she didn’t want to think too deeply on that. Holding a person to their word was not a bad thing. Either way, the debt owed to her was so slight and Emilio paid it back tenfold. As much as she needed to know Emilio wouldn’t hurt Leviathan, she also needed to know it wouldn’t die alongside it if Regan’s scream was for the demon. A world where maybe they would one day get along for Teddy’s sake and maybe even her’s seemed too far out of reach now.

 Marina understood it would take time for any sort of trust to be built between the two, but she didn’t need them to love each other as much as she loved both of them. There likely wasn’t time for that. She still needed them to not kill each other. There was a bottle of nice whiskey tucked away in the tote bag she carried, something she hoped would soften Emilio up before she made such a big ask of him. A promise to not kill Leviathan in exchange for his freedom. It had been offered before, but they’d been so at odds then. Now there was trust between them. 

 Once she was off the elevator, Marina walked to the door and she remembered Leviathan breaking down. It had looked so good breaking the door, but even so she felt a pang of guilt she wished would quiet down. This time she knocked, respectfully, and smiled brightly when Emilio opened the door. She pulled the bottle out of the bag, “I brought whiskey.” She outstretched her arms to give her friend a hug before letting herself into the small apartment. “I was hoping we could talk,” she explained, “And drink a bit if it suits you.” 

 Knocks on the door had become more and more common, these days. When Emilio first arrived to White Crest, and for some time after, visitors had been a rare thing. He’d closed himself off to most people, refused any kind of connection for fear of losing it. It hadn’t lasted long, of course; once Silas broke the wall down, it became a lot easier for other people to step over the fallen bricks and slip inside with ease. So easy, in fact, that it was difficult to guess who might be at the door as he approached it. He could only rule people out by rationalizing who would simply walk in without knocking, which was also a far longer list than he’d ever expected it to be. But it wasn’t a bad thing. It really wasn’t.

 He wasn’t surprised to see Marina on the other side of the door, though he was pleased. It was a strange reflection of the last time she’d been here, when she’d knocked on the door with Levi at her side to claim the debt he owed her and Emilio tried slamming the door in both of their faces as a strategy. That seemed like so long ago now, like another life. He’d hated her then. And he shouldn’t have, not really. The idea that he’d ever despised her like that felt uncomfortable now, like trying to squeeze into too-small clothing or crawling into a hot car parked in the sun on a bright summer afternoon. Hating her felt like something someone else had done; not Emilio. To Emilio, Marina was a friend. A damn good one.

 “You really are speaking my language,” he said with a huff, opening the door a little wider to invite her inside. He leaned into the brief hug — not his usual style, but something he was more than willing to offer someone as important to him as Marina was — and looked to the bottle with a hum. Pricier than his normal fare. He moved to the kitchen to fetch a glass. “A drink always suits me,” he told her, “but one of us’ll have to drink out of the bottle. Only got one glass.” He set it on the coffee table and settled onto the sofa, motioning for her to take the seat beside him. “Is this a specific kind of talk, or do you just want to chat? It’s fine either way, but if there’s something important…” He trailed off with a faint smile. “We’ll either need to start before we drink or way after.”

 “We could just both drink from the bottle,” Marina offered with a laugh, “That’s how the sailors always used to do it.” She’d have to take Emilio out on a boat some time, not that she had one. Stealing one would be easy enough, but she was sure he’d enjoy drinking on the open water. Or maybe not. Others weren’t always as comforted by the waves she was. Something told her Emilio was though. She took a seat on the couch beside him, settling into the cushions as she tucked her feet under her thighs. 

 The question was more loaded than her friend could have ever realized. Marina was not someone who admitted fault very often and she was at fault here. What she’d done to Emilio was unforgivable and yet he was welcoming her in his home. She frowned as she grabbed the bottle to take a swig. How could she have not seen just how dear this man would be to her? That he was more than just a hunter? The logic seemed so far from her now, but she answered quickly all the same. “Before we start drinking,” she exclaimed, “I want your answer to be your own and not coerced.” 

 Marina passed the bottle off to Emilio so he could take a gulp of his own. She knew well enough it’d take more than sip to get them drunk. Her hands remained firmly clasped on her lap as she looked over at Emilio. One was tempted to reach out and give his shoulder a comforting squeeze, but she would get this out first. “I wanted to talk about the debt,” she started slowly, “I regret it and would like to let you go, but I have to know you won’t harm, Levi. I know that’s a big ask, I do. I just—” She shifted in her seat to face the hunter fully with one her arms resting along the back of the couch. “I care about Levi. Understand it in a way, isolation is– That doesn’t matter. The point is I care for you both and I want to be able to do right by both of you.” 

 “Even better,” Emilio agreed with a small grin, pushing the glass to the side. It was something he offered out of whatever sense of ‘politeness’ still existed in his chest, but he preferred it this way. He should have known Marina would, too. She wasn’t one to concern herself with stupid shit like societal ideas of what was proper. It was one of the many things Emilio liked about her, one of the many things they had in common. 

 And there were many similarities. He saw more as she leaned forward and grabbed the bottle, taking a long swig. The intensity with which she clung to the glass container was something he knew existed within him, too, something he didn’t often talk about. It was so much easier to have tough conversations when the artificial warmth whiskey provided settled into you, and if Marina’s posture was anything to go by, this conversation was going to be a difficult one. For her, for him, or for them both, he wasn’t sure. Regardless, he took the bottle when she offered it to him, taking a long swig.

 Truth be told, the topic wasn’t a surprise. It was something they’d been dancing around for a while now, the only thing that could serve to create any kind of tension in their newfound friendship. Emilio’s gaze flickered briefly to the door, his mind bouncing back to the night she’d stood at Levi’s side as it had kicked it in. He knew she was in a predicament here. They were friends, but Levi was important to her. And regardless of his friendship with Marina, there was always going to be some part of Emilio that couldn’t rest easy until the demon was dead. But… She was offering him something here. A chance at some form of freedom. Levi hadn’t been jerking him around as much since its deal with Teddy to treat him better, but Emilio knew that was a temporary thing. Paranoia mixed together with past experience, assuring him that, sooner or later, Levi was going to get bored of playing nice. Sooner or later, it would ask him to do something far worse than calling in a favor to a friend or bribing a guy to let it use his forge. And Emilio had done enough unforgivable things. He didn’t want to add to the pile. 

 Swallowing, he rubbed his thumb across the side of the bottle, letting the condensation gather on his hands. “Can’t say I understand the appeal,” he admitted, thinking bitterly of Levi and all the shit he’d gone through because of it, “but… I get wanting to keep the people you care about safe. And I — I don’t want to be tied to that — to Levi anymore.” He’d told Rhett, back when the warden first got into town, that if Levi didn’t kill him, the promise would. And he knew it was still true, even now. Unless he found a way out of it. Marina was offering him that now. And it wasn’t perfect, but it was better than sitting back and letting this bind rip him in two. With a sigh, Emilio closed his eyes and nodded, slow and tired. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Yeah, okay. Tell me what I need to say, and I’ll say it.”

 The hesitation and moment of thought that Emilio took made sense. It was easy for Marina to understand, Levi had hardly been kind to him. Not that the hunter made it particularly easy, but she also knew Levi liked to get a rise out of him. That wild streak that reminded her of a hurricane brewing over the Atlantic was part of what she liked about the demon so much. It was the ocean in a storm, in both joy and anger, it moved with reckless abandon. It was hard to reconcile the part of herself that cared for both Levi and Emilio. All she knew was she had to try, so when Emilio finally spoke, she let out a relieved sigh.

 “I don’t expect you to,” Marina answered quietly, “I don’t think I could even explain it. At least not in a way that would make sense to someone that doesn’t know all the little intricacies of the ocean.” She placed a hand firmly on his shoulder. “I appreciate that you understand my need to keep it safe all the same. And I want you to have your freedom,” she admitted, “I think— It was easy to see you as just another hunter before. Another nameless face that would kill me or someone I cared for without hesitation. But you’re more than that.” 

 Marina found her hand was gently patting the hunter and she withdrew it to take another sip from the bottle. It felt freeing to be so open with Emilio, but there was still the discomfort of feeling exposed. After a moment, she spoke again. “Promise me you won’t try to kill Leviathan and your debt will be repaid,” she said softly.

 The complexities of Marina’s relationship with Levi weren’t easy for Emilio to wrap his head around. To him, the demon had been a source of strife since the beginning. It was a pretty thing to look at for a few hours on that first night, but not enough to make up for the months of issues that followed. But… he recognized that things were different for Marina. He’d seen the two together often enough to know that the way Levi treated Marina differed vastly from the way it treated him. And she’d been with it long before his friendship with her had blossomed. He couldn’t expect her to change her mind for his sake. Their friendship, as strong as it was, was still fairly new. He understood that.

 “Don’t think I made myself easy to like,” he admitted, wincing a little. He could have delivered the news about Teagan a little softer, could have been more gentle in his reaction to the way she received it. At least they’d managed to get past all that. And she was willing to help him now, even though she didn’t have to. That had to count for something, even if it came with conditions. 

 Offering her a small smile, he nodded his head and reached for the bottle. Once it was back in his hands, he took a long gulp — liquid courage, his father used to say, was a good enough substitute for actual bravery when it became hard to come by — and sighed again. “If you cut me loose and unbind me from it,” he said carefully, “I promise I won’t kill Levi.” The wording was much tighter than the vague bind he’d been in before, gave him only one rule to follow instead of forcing him to do whatever Levi saw fit. It might not have been perfect, but Emilio was pretty sure it was something he could abide by. 

 The statement made Marina frown. How could her dearest friend think he was anything but easy to adore? If anything, she had made things more strained with her assumptions. Before she had gotten to speaking with him, he was just another hunter. Another blade in the delicate balance between peace and chaos. She bound him to Leviathan without much thought put into it. Levi’s inclination towards chaos was something she adored in it and kindling that spark was something she still deemed worthwhile, just not at the expense of someone so incredibly important to her. 

 “You are plenty likable,” Marina assured, letting her hand remain on his shoulder, “You possess a lot of rage. I like that about you.” She gave him a genuine smile as she thought over the different ways they could find trouble together. Several ideas passed through her mind though she eventually found herself refocusing. This moment was too important to let her desire to create chaos and mayhem detract from it. “Which gives me some ideas I think you may enjoy, but we’ll get to that later.” 

 With the promise, Marina felt waves of relief crashing into her. It was very well possible that Emilio and Levi would never get along, but if they could at least coexist without killing one another, she could rest a little easier. Well, as easy as she could knowing a banshee scream may have been for the demon she’d grown so fond of. Still, she didn’t even feel the need to take the whiskey back from him to respond. “Then you are released and your debt repaid,” she responded with certainty. It was a start, but it didn’t feel like enough, not after all he’d been through. She took the bottle back and took another large swig before she spoke again. Her eyes found Emilio’s and she looked at him in earnest. “Thank you,” she breathed, feeling the bind tying together, “Truly. You both mean the world to me. I don’t think Levi will give you any further trouble, but we’ll talk. I think Teddy will be relieved, too.” 

 It was strange, sometimes, the amount of people who liked him in spite of the way he made himself so intentionally difficult to like. The idea that Marina might someday be one of them had seemed laughable when he’d first encountered her, but with her hand on his shoulder and her gaze holding his now, Emilio had no doubt that she meant every word she said. He offered her a small smile, ducking his head a little. “Plenty of people would disagree with you there.” His rage, to most, was something to look down on. Something to fear, maybe. But Marina was different. She saw something decent in the fire that burned in his chest. And maybe Emilio needed that, sometimes. Maybe he needed at least one person who liked him for his anger instead of in spite of it. 

 He perked up a little at the promise of ‘ideas’ he might enjoy, though he understood that now was hardly the time to discuss them. As much as he’d love to hear what Marina had in mind, this was a little more important. If they played things right here, Emilio could be free of the bind tying him to Levi and Marina could be free of the guilt that came with tangling him in it. It was a good thing for them both. It was a win-win kind of situation.

 Emilio closed his eyes as she released him. It felt like a physical thing, that chain untangling from around his neck. Maybe it was, in its own kind of way. He didn’t understand fae binds as well as he did other aspects of the supernatural world, and he’d always preferred the straightforwardness of the undead to the murkiness of fae. He was pretty sure that much was obvious. But… he recognized the power in words now. Which was why he was surprised when Marina thanked him so freely. He should release her, he knew, should immediately repay her kindness with one of his own, but… Something stopped him. Some inkling in the back of his mind, some itch he didn’t understand. Instead of releasing her, he only nodded, let the debt settle. He’d probably never use it, anyway, right? Holding on to it would keep her from feeling as if she owed him something. It was a good thing. 

 “Teddy’ll be glad,” he agreed. “If Levi’s being honest lately, it shouldn’t be too pissed.” Not that Emilio believed for a second that that was the case. He hoped it wasn’t, too; he was planning on lording this victory over the demon’s head just a little, and that would be a lot easier to do if it was already angry. 

 Marina had never found herself beholden to human notions like etiquette and order. If she were to take a guess, she was almost certain those who disagreed with her sentiments about Emilio were human. Even with all her time away, things didn’t change. Not in any sort of real way. The illusion of power had always been something that captivated them and was evident in all they did. Even this currency system with paper bills and plastic cards all came back to the same thing– some false idea of power and control. People like Emilio threatened that. Even bound by words, Emilio wasn’t someone who took commands quietly. He wasn’t some laborer to be bossed around or a charming face to dole out orders. He didn’t fit neatly into their little human boxes. He was wildfire and fight, as unpredictable as the waves in a storm. In the same way the humans couldn’t appreciate the violent waves, they couldn’t properly appreciate the hunter. It was sad, his own kind would never be able to see it. Hunters were a tier above the rest of the humans in that they had a purpose to serve, but it had to be incredibly lonely in a way that made her sad for her friend. 

 It was a sadness that lingered as Marina felt the threads of his debt unravel. She was happy he was free and that Levi would remain safe, but it didn’t feel like enough. It wouldn’t feel like enough until she felt the binding of her own words to him lock into place. Words she only hoped she could fulfill by igniting the very fire in Emilio that others saw fit in dampening. There was even something akin to pride swelling in her like a wave when nodded, accepting her thanks and the power behind it. “You’re learning,” she beamed, “And hopefully eliminating that particular phrase from your vocabulary unless you truly wish to repay a debt.” 

 There was no hiding the grin that came with the thought of making Teddy happy. Marina hadn’t gotten to spend a lot of time with the young man, but that day on the boat she had vowed to herself she’d take care of him as best as she could. Even if she wanted to give the news, she’d let her friend have this one. “You can tell him,” she said with a smile, “I think you’ve earned being the bearer of good news on this one.”    

 Marina leaned into the couch again and took another swig from the bottle of whiskey before handing it off to Emilio. “What do you say we celebrate? Anyone you need to stab? I’d love to watch.”   

 Emilio wasn’t well-versed enough in fae to know whether the feeling of something unraveling in his gut as the promise bind was lifted was a real response or a psychological one. The relief, in any case, was tangible. Levi hadn’t utilized the bind in quite some time, not since Teddy stepped in and used that impossible to deny charm of his to convince the demon to go a little easier on Emilio, but the hunter was under no illusion that things would have stayed that way forever. Eventually, Levi would have tugged on that chain again, and Emilio would have been just as miserable as he’d been in those first weeks, just as stuck. Now, he didn’t have to worry about it anymore. It was a wonderful gift, this thing Marina had given him. It was hard not to thank her for it, hard not to fall at her feet. But she understood his gratefulness, anyway; he could see it in her eyes. And it was no surprise that she got it. Marina, he was learning, understood most things about him. It was a nice feeling, being understood. It was hard to remember why he’d denied himself of it for so long.

 “Had to learn eventually,” he joked. “I’d hate to end up bound to every fae in this town.” Not to mention the fact that Rhett would kill him if he wound up tied to one more fae, but Emilio opted not to share that bit aloud. It felt wrong to talk about his friendship with a warden while celebrating another friendship with a fae. It might have been different if Rhett were less… black and white with things, but he tended to lean towards stabbing first and asking questions never. It was one of the things Emilio liked about him, but it wouldn’t do with Marina. 

 There were other things to discuss right now, in any case. Things like Teddy, who Emilio knew would be thrilled to hear this news. The thought of it brought a soft smile to his face, and he nodded quickly. “He’s gonna want to throw a fucking party,” he snorted fondly, shaking his head. “I can tell Levi, too. It might not be as happy about it, but I think it’ll be better to let it be pissed at me instead of you.” Emilio didn’t care what Levi thought, after all. There was no chance of the demon hurting his feelings, and he’d have no trouble knocking it on its ass if it decided to attack physically. He wouldn’t want Marina to have to suffer its anger, not when the nasty things it was sure to say might actually stand a chance at upsetting her. And besides… Emilio wanted to see the look on Levi’s face when it realized it lost the power it held. That was just about the only thing he could imagine making this shit feel even better than it already did.

 Eyes lighting up at the suggestion, Emilio nodded. “Wanna go on a hunt? Plenty of undead pendejos in this neighborhood who could use killing. Think you’ll like what happens when you splash ‘em with holy water.”  

 Before, the thought of a hunt would have caused Marina great worry. As a whole, she didn’t care much about the undead. They were all once human after all, but Metzli had been different. They had a fire in them that Marina could respect, that she’d grown to love unexpectedly, even more so as they fought to get their soul back and live on their own terms. Now that she at least knew Emilio and Metzli were on okay terms, the idea of a hunt wasn’t all that worrying. It was just another show of violence that would admittedly be soothing given the current worries swirling about inside her head. “That sounds wonderful. I would love to see you in action,” she said with a smile, albeit a weak one as she thought of how she always told Levi she loved watching it when it was violent. 

 “Nothing like a little violence for celebration my dear friend,” Marina exclaimed, placing a hand on the slayer’s shoulder and giving it a good squeeze, “I have the feeling we’ll only have more fun from here on out.” 

[monstersfear]

calm before the storm // teddy & emilio

TIMING: after pure love PARTIES: @eldritchaccident & @monstersfear SUMMARY: teddy comes home after spending a few days at levi's and then at metzli's, and he and emilio share a nice moment. CONTENT: some nsfw implicaitons

Lighter on his feet than he’d been in a long time, Teddy bounced his way back home. He’d stayed at Metzli’s a little longer than expected. Only a day or so, rather than the month he’d been exiled last time. Well. Not exiled. Hiding. Ashamed and confused and seeking the same person who ended up helping him again this time. Though, perhaps in the reverse order. Levi then Metzli. His ‘parents’ so to speak. Man that was a bag of cats to try and think about. They’d probably fight about as much as any of his foster parents had. Though none of them had supernatural abilities. So maybe it’d be a showdown worth watching. 

It felt weird to knock on his own door, but that was definitely the ave he wanted to go down. Just in case Emilio had been doing something or would somehow otherwise be caught unawares. Hell Teddy wasn’t even sure that he’d smell or sound fully like himself right now after spending so long away. And after… being a toddler. For a bit. That was rather weird. It didn’t feel like he’d rapidly de-aged and back again. More like, the memories fixated themselves into his past. Like they’d always been there. Probably why he felt so different. Also the second pact. That might have done more of a number on his insides than the brief stint as a youngin’ had done. Definitely gave him a renewed interest in learning the primordial language the Leviathan had written in, if only to know how it wrote ‘pumpkin pie’. 

With a lopsided smile, a bouquet of flowers (that hid a very special gift inside), Teddy shuffled from foot to foot and knocked. Like a teen picking up his date for prom. Just as awkward, just as giddy. 

— 

There was a knock on the door, and it took everything Emilio had not to groan at the sound of it. He’d wound up on the couch, at some point — not asleep, but not entirely aware, either, for however long it’d been since he’d sprawled out here. Not long enough to make him feel prepared for whatever client was knocking at the ungodly hour of… 3pm. Christ. 

The slayer pushed himself off the couch, grumbling under his breath as he stretched out his leg for a moment. “Vale, vale, ya vengo,” he called towards the door, shuffling towards it with a huff. He paused once he got to it, tilting his head to listen for a moment. It wasn’t the sort of precaution he would have taken a few months ago, but he figured he had a long list of people who’d kill him if he let someone who wanted him dead into his apartment, so caution had to be sloppily added to his list of exercises. 

The heartbeat on the other side of the door was a familiar one, he found, and immediately, the grumpy disposition melted away, a fond smile taking its place. He yanked the door open, raising a brow at the man on the other side. “You have a key, you know. Don’t gotta knock.” He reached forward, gently tugging Teddy into the apartment and shutting the door behind him.

—

Teddy fell into the apartment on fluttered feet, and allowed himself to gently crash into his slayer. A toothy grin split his cheeks wide. Almost enough to reach the new markings that dappled his skin. Although healed, he hadn’t escaped from the hunter fight unscathed. The fact that he was still standing at all was honestly impressive. But the scars and the brand new shock of white hair would definitely mark his ‘base’ form as… different. Something that might have been bad news if those hunters had friends or other people looking out for them. Teddy would just have to hope that Emilio’s detective work had been thorough. Not that he expected any different. He thought the fucking world of that man and pretty much anything he could do. 

“Yeah I know, I just didn’t call before and didn’t want to spook you.” He laughed, knowing both how easily the man was spooked, and how hard it was to actually scare him. Funny how those two things interact. “You’re usually a really hard man to surprise.” Teddy peppered Emilio with a few kisses before hoisting up the bouquet, which would definitely be a bit heavier than a bundle of flowers should have been. The fine glass bottle hidden in the foliage saw to that. Flowers were more Ted’s thing. The bottle would definitely win a few points in the hunter’s book though. As if he had to apologize for being away too long. 

— 

There were a few new scars marring Teddy’s features, and an absent sort of anger flared in the hunter’s chest. The men who’d put them there were dead already, of course, their corpses taken care of shortly after Teddy was deposited at the lighthouse and for a moment, the guilt Emilio felt for killing two fellow hunters evaporated. He’d done what he had to do, and there’d never been any doubt in his mind on that, but seeing Teddy now, like this? He’d done what he’d wanted to do, too. He’d given those men what they’d deserved. If anything, he’d gone easy on them.

“People come in without knocking all the time,” he pointed out with an amused snort. It was technically a business, even if Emilio was constantly irritated by the customers who chose to barge in. (Though, in all fairness, he was irritated by the ones who knocked, too. He’d never been much of a people person.) Grinning as Teddy kissed him, he leaned back a little to inspect the flowers. 

The petals probably had meanings behind them, ones that Teddy would know off the top of his head and Emilio would never understand no matter how many times they were explained to him, but there was something else lurking behind the bright colors, too. He saw a glint, his brows shooting up as he took the bouquet carefully and found it heavier than it ought to be. Moving aside some of the buds, he huffed a laugh. Carefully, he removed the bottle from the flowers, inspecting the label. “Pricier than my usual,” he teased, flashing Teddy a grateful grin. “Do we, uh… Put the flowers in water?”

—

"Probably a better idea than putting them in the whiskey." Teddy teased back, nuzzling into Emilio enough that he could fill his whole lungs with the hunter's scent. Warming him up from the long walk home with a mix of smoke and spice. A little sweet sweat and the subtle tinge of stale dried blood. Not his. Mostly. Ted laughed mischievously as he pressed his thoroughly chilled cheeks into Em's. Knowing full well how much the man hated the cold. Just had to let the hunter know what he'd been missing the whole time his partner had been gone.  It felt so good to be home. Even if they'd be leaving any day now, the place didn't matter. Only him. Only Emilio. 

"What do you think..?" He asked as he pulled back, noting how Emilio's brows ticked together at the sight of his new… appearance. "All things considered, I don't think the scars are that bad–" despite the fact that they covered a good quarter of his face now. And how he was pretty sure it didn't super matter how he shifted his shape now, the mark would stay one way or another. 

—-

“They can get their own whiskey. This bottle’s mine,” Emilio joked, smiling faintly as Teddy snuggled up close to him. He winced a little when the florist’s cold skin brushed against his, making a face. “You need me to warm you up?” The cold didn’t seem to bother Teddy as much as it did Emilio but, then, Teddy had grown up here, with Maine’s harsh winters. Mexico’s, by comparison, were much warmer. 

Leaning back a little more to better inspect Teddy’s new look, Emilio clicked his tongue thoughtfully. “I think you pull it off,” he offered. It was true — Teddy looked just as handsome now as he had before, even if Emilio hated that he’d had to go through what he had to earn the new scars. “You got any, uh… Pain left?” Emilio knew, better than most, that some things left a lingering physical sensation even long after they were finished. His leg twinged faintly, as if to offer him a reminder of it. 

—

"Yes, absolutely, I need a lot of warming up." This wasn't completely true. Teddy was very used to cold. He was honestly surprised it hadn't snowed yet, but maybe the strange hours the sky of White Crest had been keeping the worst of the real world weather away in favor of whatever whacky nonsense it wanted to throw at them. The florist sighed, lowering his hands to Emilio's and gently swayed both of them back and forth like a kid might do on the playground. Heart fluttering just as much as it might have if this was the first time Em had ever complimented him. 

"Feels a little strange, but uh– you know who did a pretty good job fixing me up. No pain. Head's extra chilly though, this isn't exactly the time of year I'd really ever shave my hair on purpose." Teddy breathed a laugh as he ran a hand over the fresh peachy fuzz behind the scar, hoping the mention of the demon wouldn't dampen the mood too much. He wanted this to be a wonderful reunion. And he definitely wanted to find out how exactly Emilio planned on warming him up. 

—

“Guess I’d better get on that,” Emilio responded with a quick grin. He made no move to pull Teddy towards the bedroom, though. After a few days apart, he just wanted to be with him for a while. To exist in the same space, to listen to his heartbeat, to remind himself in a tangible way that Teddy was safe and all right. It always felt like this, after time apart. No matter how brief it might have been, there was always a crushing sense of relief that came with the reunion. A side effect, Emilio figured, of being someone who’d lost a little too much.

The mention of Levi saw the slayer stiffening a bit. Looking to distract himself, he shifted to free up a hand, lifting it up to Teddy’s head and brushing the side of his head carefully. “Kind of like this look on you,” he admitted as he inspected the new haircut. “It’s soft.” And it looked good, too. Lucio had shaved Emilio’s head once when he was a kid, insistent that it would be better in the hot weather. He wasn’t sure if it was his uncle’s lack of barbershop skills or the shape of his head, but it’d looked awful. Made him look younger than he was, and he’d already had a young face. Teddy didn’t have that problem. On him, Emilio thought, the cut looked good. Of course, Emilio would think just about anything looked good on Teddy, but he was pretty sure he was right about this one. 

—

Teddy leaned into Emilio's hand. Brought his own up to meet it and just held it there. His smile softened to match the man's view of Teddy's appearance. "Oh yeah?" Had more time passed he might have made a joke about getting attacked by hunters earlier, but as it was the thought of that night still brought a hitch to Teddy's breath and a skip to his heart. For now he was more than content to just feel the radiating heat coming off Emilio's hand. Listen to the heartbeat that was clearer than it'd ever been. The second pact sharpened his senses, not that they were really dulling any time soon, but this was more.  

It felt like he could reach out and touch Emilio's energy. The very soul that called to him above all else. Levi might literally have had writing on Ted's ribs tying them for who knows how long, but there was something intrinsic to the whole of Teddy's being in how he felt about Emilio that seemed even more powerful. At least from his perspective. He might never get rid of that tug that pulled him towards the greater demon, but he had his angel right here. No matter what Emilio might fuss about Teddy thinking that way. The thought alone was enough to drive the florist to another quick kiss before leaning his forehead against the other's.

"Have you been eating? Microwaved non-perishables don't count. Nor does cold spaghetti-os" 

—

“Hate for you to go cold,” Emilio replied, grin widening just a little. With Teddy, it always felt easy to slip back into things. The moral conundrum he’d been grappling with since cleaning those hunters’ blood off his hands felt a little easier to carry when he was looking at the man he’d done it for, even if he knew it would never disappear completely. Trading lives was something every hunter learned the necessity of at a young age, and while Emilio never would have guessed he’d be doing it like this, he knew he made the right choice. The world was better with Teddy in it. He was certain of that.

He leaned into Teddy’s touch now, letting his forehead rest against the other with a low hum. “Haven’t starved,” he replied, shifting in a way that probably betrayed the fact that Teddy’s assumptions towards his diet were pretty spot on. “Don’t see why it doesn’t count. Food’s food, isn’t it? And if I eat it while you’re not here, you don’t have to smell it. Seems like a win for everyone, doesn’t it?”

—

A sense of total calm crept in the more they chatted, the longer their hands lingered in blessed contact. Teddy welcomed the rush of fluttered heartbeats, the way it pushed his chest out like he was host to a thousand butterflies all competing to be the brightest and most beautiful. Gone was the worry of keeping secrets, of how he had resolutely planned to go back to Levi. That they would probably see a lot more of each other under the guise of visiting Cass and Marina. Even after they left White Crest, wherever they settled was going to be close. He knew that much. They had to be. Metzli and Eilidh too, though there were probably a few less complaints about that pair than the sea squad. 

Some things were easier to talk about though. Like how Emilio's comment on 'smelling' the spaghetti-os was a bit more true than it'd ever been. So he remarked as such. "It smells like you bathed in them, babe. Didn't realize you were such a messy eater when you aren't trying to impress me." Teddy laughed, and started to scooch the pair of them over to the couch. "Y'know my nose is getting to the point where I can pick out ingredients of the daily special of the restaurant a block away with a whiff. I can’t tell if I love it or hate it." 

—

It was the calm before the storm. On some level, Emilio knew that. All the problems they’d had before — the town’s inevitable destruction, Emilio’s inability to even consider viewing Levi with anything less than a homicidal rage, the unsettled feeling that tended to build in his chest until it exploded time and time again — they were all still there. Even with the hunters that went after Teddy gone and no one left to avenge them, Emilio knew others would likely come at some point, would require killing in the same way that had left him with the heavy feeling in his chest now. But right now, in this moment, it didn’t seem to matter much. Those things could wait. Right now, Emilio just wanted to be in this moment.

He snorted lightly at Teddy’s comment, giving the other man’s shoulder a playful nudge. “Bullshit,” he accused, ducking his head to hide his grin. “You’re exaggerating.” He let Teddy lead him over towards the couch, taking a seat and tugging him down next to him when they reached it. “You gonna sniff me out like a bloodhound next time I’m late picking up groceries?” 

—

“Nuh-uh!!” Teddy’s eyes lit up as the rest of his face turned into a mockery of shock and betrayal. It was pretty clear however, from the continuous rumble of laughter and the fact that he opted to put more than half of his body on top of Emilio, that he was in no way upset at the man for calling his bluff. Ted found his favored spot and snuggled in even closer as he stretched out taking the rest of the couch as well. “I swear, everything is extra loud, smells way more strong. It’s one thing to be born like this but getting it now?”  He scrunched up his nose as if a particularly strong whiff of something caught him. 

“Maybe I will Em, What are you gonna do about it?” Like this, it was so easy to forget just how bad things were outside their apartment walls. How each hour was ticking away, the sky a kaleidoscope of danger and distress. Literal ghosts roamed the streets and monsters were becoming the mainstream. Hell, Teddy was one of them. But he was comfortable. Head resting on the man’s lap and a soft smile cast upward as he watched the subtle movements of Emilio’s face. This was home. This was where he belonged. 

—

Emilio hummed thoughtfully, nodding his head. He couldn’t relate entirely, but he remembered what it felt like to have his hunter abilities stripped from him and returned again during the mess of a broken promise to Regan. For him, there had been so much emotion tied into it that it had been difficult to really register the physical stuff, but he knew enough to know it was jarring. “You’ll get used to it after a while,” he offered, because that was a promise he knew he could keep. “Just takes time. Maybe we get you some headphones in the meantime. Block out some of the louder shit. Vivaporu under the nose.” And maybe Emilio would have to start dragging himself into the shower a little more often.

“Probably stop volunteering to get the groceries,” the hunter snorted in reply, letting his chin rest on the top of Teddy’s head as the florist snuggled against him. “Or find a way to make it more of a challenge for you. Can’t go letting you off too easy, hm?” He let out a quiet, contented sigh, body settling as much as it ever did. The world was probably ending soon, but that was all right. Emilio figured he had everything he needed, anyway. It was a good feeling.

[virgil-achyls]

@monstersfear

[pm] Sorry to hear that, but I guess it's to be expected. [user considers the question for longer than he should have to.] No. You didn't hurt me. [del: I wanted it, after that first time. I wanted to feel anything but-] Don't know how much of a choice I've got. If what Solomon thinks is any indication, they're going to make their way back here sooner or later. Not sure they'll let me sit things out. [del: Apparently, I'm real fun for demons to jerk around. Lucky me.]

[pm] You’re right that it’s to be expected, I guess. I don’t really know enough about demons to say what’s normal and what’s not. 

I don’t believe that Are you sure? It seems like they hurt everyone they met. You can be honest with me. I want to know. 

Solomon is probably right. I think we just made them angry by running off like that. Are they... angry at you too? 

[clayanddust]

@monstersfear: [pm] The fucking knife that you put eyes on, man.

@clayanddust: [pm]

The Hallmark channel told me that fatherhood is scary 

But I believe in you 

Would you like another eye? 

[wickedmilo]

@monstersfear

[pm] That's what I figured, yeah. He's headed there next. Said he's going to tell her about Andreas, try to use her reaction to [del: drive Silas to] break Silas. 

[...] 

 Yeah. I know. Been talking to that pinche pendejo for a while now. Managed to piss him off enough to make him give me a little bit of information about where he's headed, what he's planning. What he's done so far. ​

[pm] Shit, I have no idea where she lives

[pm] He’s trying to break Silas?

[pm] He woke me up a couple of days ago

[pm] In Silas’ body

[pm] He told me he was keeping control this time

[pm] I didn’t realise he was trying to 

[pm] I don’t know what I thought

[pm] I don’t know how to help, I’ve never felt so useless

[pm] Tell me you have a plan

[deathisanartmetzli]

TIMING: Current

PARTIES: @deathisanartmetzli @braindeacl​ @monstersfear​

SUMMARY: Metzli and Emilio team up to save Eilidh.

WARNINGS: amputation, gore

Waiting until nightfall was difficult the moment James blinked into Metzli’s apartment. Macleod was in danger, held captive by an Elder, and the only reason she was still alive was because the vampire wanted to have its fun. Minutes felt like hours as James explained. Even as they shot up from their seat, they knew they couldn’t do anything but drive. Setting out for a fight while the sun was out would be suicide, and they needed to get to their partner alive so they could kill the vampire and bring her home to safety. Gritting their teeth, they waited, taking the time to call in a favor to the last person who wanted to help the kind he swore to kill. Macleod would be pissed, but Emilio, a slayer, was one of the few people they trusted to handle an elder. He could blab all he wanted about how he needed Metzli alive for the sake of killing every Cadena clan member, but there was something else between the two. A connection that derived from pain, that stemmed from one man.

“Get out of the fucking way!” Metzli honked at the car in front of them, swerving over the yellow line to pass. Tires screeched as they veered into position, finally free of any obstacles ahead. “Pinche cabrón…” they muttered, squeezing the steering wheel in an effort to force the car to go faster than 190mph. It was risky, especially with someone with a beating heart in the car, but their love was on the line. If she died…no, they couldn’t think about that. They couldn’t think of losing another soul. Moving the gear shift, they barked at James, “Go check on Macleod and give me an update. And don’t give away anything.” James didn’t go in an instant, digesting the command a little too long for their liking. “Now!” Punching the steering wheel and running their hand roughly through their black forest of curls, James blipped away, finally doing what Metzli needed to quell their nerves as much as they could. What they actually wanted to do was cry. Sob into the steering wheel and beg Fate for another way. To take them instead. But they couldn’t. They wouldn’t. Instead, they pumped that energy into anger and held onto it like a lifeline. Like it was the only thing holding them together.

Metzli could feel eyes on them, seeing Emilio’s face in their peripherals. He was probably judging, as he always did. “What?” The vampire had gotten good at thinking before speaking, but all their thoughts were consumed with Eilidh. And that fueled their impulsivity more than they would have liked. “No me miras así.”

He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Metzli so desperate before. Even when the world was falling apart, they always seemed to have an underlying smugness about them. Privately, Emilio had always been a little grateful for that. It was so much easier to hate someone when they exuded a hint of arrogance even at their lowest moments, and he’d needed to hate Metzli since long before he’d met them. Eloy was dead, and what was left of his clan was spread thin and growing smaller with each stake Emilio drove home. Metzli offered a convenient target for his anger, for his grief.

But only when they were their normal self.

They hadn’t been, when they’d come to him for help. There was a desperation clinging to them like he’d never seen before, one that hadn’t been present during that first fight when Emilio left them in the snow, one that had been absent in their apartment when he came to tell Milo and Silas about Andreas’s death. Although it was a kind of desperation Emilio knew well, a kind he’d seen in the mirror more often than he could count, it wasn’t one he’d ever seen on Metzli before. And part of him thought he should have been enjoying it a little. Part of him thought he ought to be glad that something finally knocked them off their damn horse, but… There was something empty about it. It was hard to feel decent at all.

He studied them for a moment, taking in their state. He’d heard them talk about their partner before, but never met her in person. He’d always figured that was an intentional thing. It was why it was a little surprising that he was the one they’d come to for help here. Maybe it was just because he was the only slayer they knew who owed them a favor, maybe they knew he’d say yes to anything that let him turn someone to dust and risk his own ass in the process. Maybe they just needed cannon fodder in case shit hit the fan. It didn’t matter much. What mattered was that he was here, and he had no intention of failing, if only for his pride. He’d get Metzli’s partner back, lord it over their head for less time than he’d pretend to want to.

When they snapped at him, it wasn’t much of a surprise. Emilio held up his hands as if surrendering, glancing out the windshield instead. “You good to do this? Because if not, I can go in there on my own. Get her out, take care of this. You can stay in the car, if you need to.” And then, because it sounded a little too close to concern for his liking, he added, “I don’t want you watching my back if you’re not up for it. I’ve got shit to do, you know. Don’t want you getting me killed.”

“I’m fine to do this!” Metzli barked back at Emilio, irritated with the idea that they might not be capable. They’d killed plenty. Done so with ease. With someone they loved on the line, why wouldn’t it be a piece of cake? They were a protector now. Power was back by love instead of abuse now, and that was way more worth conserving than a master’s life. “I need her.” Teeth gritted together, trying to force tears to not fall. “She-she needs me, okay? I know you don’t think I care about anything or anyone but myself, but I want to care for her. And Milo. And everyone in my life.” Their breath hitched, clashing into the lump forming in their throat. “I may not have a soul, but I want to. I want to be everything that was taken, and that means doing this. That means you’re making it out, and so is she.” They paused, coming to a powerful conclusion. “Even if I don’t.” Eyes stared off ahead, letting the words wash over them.

Eloy had taken everything from them, made their life only have one purpose. Everything they were, everything they did, was for him. Metzli never had the chance to be a person until they met everyone in White Crest. And they knew how important that was. They were a child of a loveless and abusive upbringing, only dreaming of the day they might know what the warmth of true love felt like. By no means would they go down easily, or by some grace, at all. There was still much to experience, and they wanted to do it with everyone they loved, to everyone who gave their life a greater purpose. But they just couldn’t ignore the very real possibility of death standing behind them. Now that they had everything, Metzli knew it would be okay. Their mark had been made from the silent wishes of their heart because it knew that to live as nothing meant to die as nothing, with no trace of their print on the world. Having lived as something now, they could resign to the idea of dying in the name of that love. At least then, their death finally had meaning. And that was way more than Eloy or their parents wanted them to have. “You ever gone against an elder before?”

The anger was a familiar thing, even if it wasn’t familiar in Metzli. Emilio found himself clenching his hands into fists, digging his nails into his palms unconsciously. Was this what he looked like when things got bad? What he sounded like? Snapping at every little thing, turmoil clinging to every inch of him? It was hard to look at. Maybe it wouldn’t have been if it had felt a little less like looking in a damn mirror. Emilio hadn’t liked himself in years now; the less he saw of himself, the better. And right now? He was seeing more of himself in Metzli than he’d care to admit. “I was offering you an out,” he said, and it came out flatter than he’d meant for it too. “I wasn’t saying you’re not capable. I know you can handle yourself.” A pause. And then, “And I know… The other shit, too.” At least, most of it. He knew Metzli cared for the people in their life on some level, even if years of slayer conditioning made it impossible to accept the depth of that care. He’d been taught, since he was a toddler, that everything for a soulless vampire only went surface deep. Metzli was the first one who’d ever challenged that way of thinking. Metzli was the first one who’d ever had time to. Every soulless vampire that came before them wound up with a stake in their heart long before they could invite him into any kind of a conversation.

Sometimes, he still thought things might’ve been better that way.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “Kind of need you to make it out of this one, too. I’m not sure I’d trust your partner not to take a bite out of me if you got dusted in there. And the boot of this car’s not big enough for her to ride back there while I enjoy the quiet, so… Gonna need your fucking A-game on this one, all right? You can die later. When it won’t cause me any fucking problems.” He unbuckled his seatbelt, resting a hand on the door handle. As far as he was concerned, just this once, Metzli was the one calling the shots here. He’d go in when they said he ought to go in. Not before. Even if it was a hard rule to follow, given… everything. At the question, he exhaled a long sigh. “Never without more backup than this. Usually I’d have…” His siblings. His parents. His uncle. All people who were gone now, who’d been gone for years. “More slayers watching my back.” Not that he’d faced many. Elders were rare; slayers like Emilio’s family made sure of that. They killed them before they got to that point, and for good fucking reason. Nobody was meant to live forever, no matter what some species seemed to think. It did things to a person’s mind. It twisted them up inside. “But, hey… Got a lot less to lose now, so we’ve got that going for us. Glass half fucking full, right?”

Right. They were probably both going to die here. Emilio hoped Silas would remember to water his weird tree.

“I don’t need an out when my partner needs me. That wouldn’t be the right thing to do, especially if I claim to love her.” Metzli knew they had been selfish enough for the lifetimes lived. The current in their life had changed its course to one that was turbulent and unpredictable, but they would allow themselves to ebb and flow. As chaotic as it was, there was a method to be followed. Tides passed with the weather, and they weren’t setting a course alone. Manning their ship were two people that were more than capable of passing through what crossed their path, with a sense of dark humor too. For that, and more, they were grateful. “Well…” Metzli sucked their teeth and let out a dry chuckle, thinking of Eilidh. “She probably would take a bite outta you. Thinks I’m crazy for making friends with hunters, but I can’t help it.” Gears shifted once more, allowing a short pause. “Can’t ask hunters to give me a chance if I don’t give them one.” Shoulders rose and fell in a small shrug. “Maybe it’ll get me killed, but effort goes hand in hand with success. Plus, I kinda like proving people wrong.” For the first time in hours, Metzli found themselves able to joke. They were settling a little easier into their role, and even found a bit of leftover confidence in their reserve. It’d be hard, but they really believed they could make it out. With everyone’s life intact.

A mansion in the distance came into view, just over the hill, making the steering wheel bend to Metzli’s grip. “I think we’re here. Gonna park about a little bit away so they don’t see us.” Crossing over the shoulder, they parked behind some trees and brush, happy to see their decision on purchasing a black car was the right choice. “Grab what you need from the trunk and follow me. I’ve already got my shit strapped to me.” Tensing their muscles, Metzli walked a few paces, staring at the dwelling that held their love inside. Eilidh’s scent was in the air, prompting a small smile to curve their lips. Death, forest, and honeysuckle. Home. Their smile fell, faded away by worry growing like the heaviest weight on their chest. I’ll get you back. Just wait a little longer. They thought to themselves, squeezing their fists shut in an attempt to hold it together as their eyes fell on a pile of ash. And then another. Their smile returned. “Looks like she kicked some ass before being captured.”

“All right,” Emilio replied, because contrary to popular belief, he did know a losing fight when he saw one. Normally, he might push anyway, if only to be stubborn and infuriating and overall a pain in the ass, but time wasn’t really on their side here. Besides, he had no real desire to fight an elder on his own. Even with all his arrogant pride, he knew how that fight would end. “Yeah, well, plenty of people would say I’m crazy for being here, too. Not sure I’m not one of them.” There were a lot of reasons why Emilio was helping Metzli and their partner here. He wasn’t sure how many of them could be called noble. He wasn’t sure any of them could. “And we’re not friends. For the record. I just owed you a favor.” He had owed them one, that much was certainly true. Metzli telling him about Marina’s friendship with Teagan Myrick may not have released Emilio from his bond, but it had given him something. The least he could do was give them something back. “Effort goes hand in hand with a slow, agonizing death, too,” he said dryly, but he was here anyway. He was going in anyway. Whatever that said about him.

The mansion was vast and looming and fucking cliche. Emilio rolled his eyes at the sight of it. “Somebody got a little too into those old novels,” he muttered, half to himself and half to Metzli. He sprung out of the car as soon as they put it into park, happy to be able to move after having been cooped up in the vehicle for the frantic ride. Walking back to the trunk, he rifled through its contents. His pockets were already heavy with his usual weapons, but killing an elder would take a lot more than Emilio’s walking around arsenal. He ran his hands over the hilt of a sword, swallowed at the sight of a flamethrower. That’d be the smartest thing to pick up, but he knew his hands would shake if he held it. He wouldn’t be much good in a fight if his mind was jumping back to the cave where Levi had him burn the chimera made up of his family, he knew. After some consideration, he picked up an axe and tested the weight of it in his hands with a satisfied nod. That’d do fine. Closing the trunk quietly, he came back around to the front of the car and followed Metzli towards the mansion, glancing around as he did so. “If we’re lucky, she took out most of the underlings and we can focus on the pendejo in charge. If we’re not…” He trailed off, considering. “It’ll be good stress relief.” In comparison to an elder, most higher vampires died easy. Emilio had been killing them for so long now that it was almost robotic, more often than not. He wasn’t worried about that. But if they could get to the elder without having been tired out by its clan, it’d boost their chances.

James joined without a word. Both from the abruptness of his arrival, and the very thing being forgotten on his lips. Experience and the concept of his being would have told him he was only seen and heard when wanted. Silent eyes. Watching ears. Even if seen, even if heard, there was no flesh to touch. No where for sinking teeth to harm him again. But such a logic was found in the mind, and his was crowded by doubt. Was he still invisible? Still unheard? He had held a breath he did not have, as he spied on those prowling monsters. Pressed against a wall so he may as far as he could — watching for as long as he could. When one looked to his direction — not at but through — his mind had told him it was the former. Poof! There he was. Back to the car, lost to words. Looking to another monster, but one he wanted to be seen by. Needed to be seen by, if he were to get Eilidh back. He did not trust Metzli with much, but he could at least trust them with this.

“Um. I- Well.” Slowly, the images James saw were remembered. Began to trickle from the mind to the mouth. “Right. So, it’s just the elder and two more vampires. Ei- She got the rest. I think. Maybe. I didn’t… see anymore? Unless they’ve been hiding all this time, I don’t know. I haven’t seen any uncounted faces, sure, but that doesn’t mean much.” His words became so fast, they were nearly gibberish. “They could’ve been hiding this whole time. Vampires like cramming themselves in all sorts of places, so it wouldn’t be out of the ordinary for-” The look on Metzli’s face registered and he realized he was rambling. After an unsteady cough, he continued. “Yes. Right. Um, Macleod. She’s… It’s not good. But at least she’s still kicking?” He laughed alone. Only joined by his nerves. “...Bad joke. Sorry.” Though he failed to realize Metzli wouldn’t get it. Yet. “It has her in the… main part of the building. Where you walk in? Would that be the living room… No, there was a table. Whatever. It’s really big, so you can probably- yeah.” James wasn’t going to pretend to know anything about strategizing. That was up to the two of them. His part of the story had been done.

“Right, right. That’s why you went out for drinks with me the other day.” Eyes rolled, annoyed and a little relieved to have the air be somehow lighter with the slayer’s presence. Even with his dark humor. It made the vampire laugh. “Slow death? Don’t turn me on before battle. That’s a bad combo.” Metzli laughed to themselves, feeding into the humor. Soldiers set to war often needed the reprieve. Situations turning grim were too intense and heavy to not make jabs and lessen the gravity. They figured out of everyone, as a slayer, Emilio would understand what Metzli was up to. Encountering multiple battles, the vampire didn’t know fear for a long time when all they did was fight for Eloy, but now, they had something to lose. They had people that could lose them. While fear didn’t consume them, it still rattled their bones in a way that brought them a strange sort of tranquility. It was nothing to be ashamed of. They finally knew why fear could not only be a warrior’s greatest enemy, but their greatest asset. Fear meant there was a lot on the line, and not everyone had that. Like Emilio. Metzli didn’t feel anything for him, but they wished they could. Wondered if it felt anything like what a year ago did to them, when they had nothing. They looked over at the slayer with kind eyes and turned before he could catch them, and chuckled at his observation.

Emilio was right, the mansion was definitely cliché, much like the axe in his hand. It was a little too on the head for Metzli’s liking, but it was a good distraction until James made himself known. He rambled on and on, not getting to the point fast enough. They growled at the speed of information, the sound quickly cut off with an amused huff of pride at the dusted vampires, promptly turning into a confused grumble. “What the fuck do you mean ‘bad joke’?” Eyes darted to the mansion, fearing the elder had done something to their love. “Forget it. Let’s go, Emilio.” Metzli walked through James, rushing toward the door with a stake gripped in their fist. If she was in the main room, they’d go straight there. No point in going in quietly. “Sounds like we are lucky, so let’s just get this over with.” Their leg hiked up, prepping to kick the door in when it creaked open to reveal a vampire playing butler without the stupid getup. “¿Que chingados…?” They stumbled backwards, defensively raising the stake just in case.

Franka had been eagerly waiting. Their scents had done the knocking for them, and the intruder had been their request. The table was already set for their arrival. Hugged by silk linens and covered in glass trinkets. Carefully crafted dinnerware for any sort of food imagined, despite the lack of the sort. There were a few, of course. Ragoût de Pattes de Cochon that had gone cold and a loaf of stale bread. All for looks. Well, usually. She figured the human would find use for them. No, the real feast was in the glass goblets. Clear and sparkling, except for the banshee blood resting inside. One such sat on her palm. She lifted it to her guests. “Bonsoir!” Her accent was as thick and forced as the sweetness in her voice. Her smile was equally juxtaposed. Though, it matched her nature for a moment. The laughter caused her mouth to open wide, but not revealing emptiness. Her lips were merely replaced by a forest of fangs. Those lips slipped down, sheathing her teeth again with a pleasant smile. She began to beckon over the two… No. The three. One who her nose could not see. “Ah! A ghost I had felt-” He popped out of existence before she could finish. That laughter returned, and so too the fangs. The disappearance meant nothing to her, for he wouldn’t have appreciated the occasion.

Franka’s attention returned back to those who could. The vampire and human. The vampire and hunter. What a peculiar pair. She had expected the sort, but it was hard to believe. Until the proof was plainly presented: the look in his eyes and the assortment in his hands. “Vas-y mollo.” She patted the air, as if patting his head. The great distance between them kept the action from being the latter. “There is no need for that. Dinner, I want you two to join. We will make company.” She had needs like any other. Needs that were hard to fulfill, when eternity looked her in the face. In the repetition of time, novelty was so hard to find. The very nature of their strange companionship was already fitting the bill. “Since this is not a good one.” With a dismissive hand, she motioned upward. To one who watched them all from above, but not willingly. The rope around the zombie’s legs kept her securely dangled. Her missing arms ensured her place there. Of course, the zombie had been a novelty in her own right. But one that had no dinner manners. She was better suited for a fixture. So there she was, Franka’s chandelier for the evening.

When anger first touched Eilidh, it was blinding. Everything else ripped away without a care, directed to those who did the very same to her arms. Her fury was less to the indignity of the situation, but the position it placed her in. Dangling from the ceiling, she was lost to everything but time. Drip, drip, drip of her wounds had been the ticking of her clock. But even it eventually abandoned her. Thankfully, the pain remained. Turned to a dull ache, but she would accept anything over nothingness. Her mouth tried to fill the missing pieces. The air had been overcome with ancient curses and snarls; at least, the ones that managed to fit pass the thing blocking her throat. All were gone unnoticed by any that weren’t her. She only found those empty mouths that needed no words. They had certainly been talking to each other, in that silent way an elder and their collection did. The synchronized movements, like drones in their hives, had provided some entertainment. Fancy dinners and their pleasantries were hardly an interest, but in that circumstance she found herself mesmerized by the preparation. Until it stopped, leaving her too. All that was left was waiting for the one she knew would come. Her sweet one. The sweetest.

The vampires’ shared assurance of their arrival, shown by their mirrored waiting, had returned Eilidh’s anger. It was this anger that kept her sane, until the arrival finally came. One the elder welcomed with a laugh, which called to the growl in her throat. Her neck strained back. Curled in desperation until she could see the opened door. All to see those eyes she had waited for so long. The ones that brought a warmth without pain. The fires in Metzli’s eyes made the warmth into a blaze. The weapons in their hands, joined by the ones held by the mysterious man, turned the blaze into unbridled delight. It was her turn to laugh. It strained and choked against the obstruction. More a gleeful squawk than laughter. The twinkling in her eyes made the message clear.

The strange display caused Franka’s smile to falter. Threatened to make it a scowl, before she dismissed the zombie once more. Her guests were more important. “Come! Come!” The curling of her finger called to them. Like a string was wrapped around the finger and their necks. All she needed was to pull. “Rapidement.” Her smile returned. “I do not want to break my new chandelier.”

“What, you think I’d turn down drinks? Clearly you don’t know me very well.” The banter was comforting, in its way. It made it easier to forget that they were probably walking into certain death here. Not that certain death was a thing that bothered Emilio as much as it ought to; Metzli, too, seemed to have already made their peace with the idea. Emilio huffed at their words, rolling his eyes. “Try keeping it in your pants until after we get your partner back. I’m not interested.”

He didn’t question whatever intel Metzli was getting from the ghost; he might not entirely trust the vampire, but he trusted that they wouldn’t endanger an operation that was their only hope at saving their partner. If there was something he needed to know, he figured Metzli would tell him. The best chance they stood at getting Metzli’s partner out of this in one piece was by working together. Metzli knew that just as much as Emilio did.

So, he followed them. Up to the house, axe at the ready. But whatever he’d been expecting… It wasn’t this. It wasn’t a door swinging open like they were invited guests. It wasn’t a spread of food on a table and a woman making conversation. This, to Emilio, was far worse than an immediate attack would have been. He tensed, gripping the axe so tightly that his knuckles were white where they wrapped around the hilt of it. His eyes flickered down to the food on the table. “Actually, I ate before I came,” he replied dryly. No way in hell was he eating anything this vampire offered him. Even if not for the increased paranoia that had been squeezing his chest as of late, there wasn’t a thing on Earth that could have convinced him to do that.

He looked up as the vampire indicated to something above their heads, grimacing at the sight of the zombie hanging there. Arms removed, righteous anger rippling through her. It didn’t take a genius to surmise that this was Metzli’s partner, the one they’d come here to save. The good news, he figured, was that she wasn’t dead.

The bad news was… everything else.

Glancing to Metzli, he tilted his head in silent question. Every instinct in him was screaming at him to surge forward, to swing his axe, to end this shit one way or another, but he knew it would only end with him in pieces on the table. And unlike the zombie hanging from the ceiling, Emilio wouldn’t be able to maintain an angry exterior when something started picking him apart. More likely, he’d bleed out and end up a pretty useless footnote here. It wasn’t quite how he wanted to go out, if only because he was sure Metzli would find a way to be smug about it. So… he’d let them take the lead. He’d let them decide how to proceed. And if they got themselves killed, he’d be the one who got to be smug about it in the afterlife. It seemed like a win/win.

James blinking away was no surprise, and was at least a little amusing. Eyes rolled and focused on the threat, on the elder speaking. Every word out of Franka’s mouth set off a powerful blaze, burning Metzli’s insides as if they were coal in an engine and their body was the machine. Gritting their teeth and tightening their fists, the stake in their hand split in two as they walked toward the table. Too much energy simmered under their skin, and it needed to boil over. Burn everything to save Eilidh. But where was she? They could hear her, and even smell her, but she was nowhere in sight. That was, until they reached the table and looked up.

Stopping at the edge of the lavish and gaudy arrangement, Metzli’s eyes widened as they digested the infuriating sight. They finally understood James’ bad joke about Eilidh still kicking. If it had been any other circumstance, they might have let out a chuckle, but their partner needed help and they were only able to take a single step before that voice made their gait wobble. The allure in Franka’s words danced around the sweet melody in her tone, forcing them to walk even closer. Eilidh snapped and growled, and so did they, growing feral with their rage alongside her. “Callate la pinche boca.” They hissed through their teeth, on the brink of losing control. Her compulsion was strong, but Metzli’s hatred was far stronger, only growing as the elder called Eilidh chandelier. Enough was enough.

“Catch her or cut her down, and protect her head. I’m going after the elder.” Bounding forward, two knives were retrieved from their holster. If Franka thought Eilidh had bad manners, she was in for a treat. Metzli was going to show her even worse behavior. “Take this.” As they stepped onto the table, they stuck one knife into the wood, leaving it behind for Emilio to take. Metzli was sure he had plenty of weapons, but it always paid to have more than needed. “We don’t want your fucking dinner!” Making it obvious, they kicked over several cups and plates, smashing everything in their path as they made their way down the ridiculously long table. It was certainly a party thanks to their arrival.

Metzli had never fought against an elder before, and while they were scared, they knew they had to adjust that energy. Needed to force themselves to be what Eilidh needed, what they knew they could be. What Eloy had created them to be. A mindless fighter. Only this time, the person they were fighting and protecting was more than worthy. And so they attacked. Much to their dismay, Franka was able to dodge every single swing, jab, and attempt at grappling, frustrating Metzli considerably. They growled and continued, landing only a single slice. To which Franka quickly grabbed their arm and twisted, forcing them to their knees with her foot to their back. Her hold was way too strong to break from, but that didn’t stop them from trying.

It was so difficult to find good company. Good conversations. Something thick and juicy and dripping. Franka had pierced many flesh, but a good talk was the rarest of them all. It seemed the two were lacking. Disappointing, if not drearily typical. She shouldn’t have gotten her hopes up for those that associated with her chandelier. If only the intrigue of their companionship, or very least familiarity, had transferred to their tongues. But, no. All the hunter had to offer was something trying to be a quip. She laughed as if it were any good; her humors produced by something else. “We will wait until hungry again you are.” She certainly had enough time to spare. Far longer than his hunger. Or even him at all. “Come.” Without even a parted lip or parting glance, she instructed her collection. Told the one at the door to close it: locked and tight. Told the others, unseen, to prepare their teeth: sharp and swift. They did as they were told. At least someone did.

It seemed the two only had enough talking to spare amongst themselves. Something about catching and protecting. Franka knew the latter must be for her chandelier, for the look in the vampire’s eyes held anything but. The vampire danced towards her, across the table. A display she found amusing, if it weren’t for the destruction of her glassware. Shattered to the ground along with her limited patience. If that’s how they wanted this to go, then fine, she’ll go along. The vampire tried to put up a fight. Nothing she hadn’t seen before. When their arm was gripped in her grasp, her lips curled. “You act same as her. You join her. Casse couille.”

Snap.

First, the bones. A dent under the skin that hid broken splinters. Shattered bits of white that soon peeked out as Franka continued to twist. And twist. The bones pierced the flesh in their severance, soon departure. The skin followed behind. Tore away with ease without the bones’ stability. The torn forearm rested in Franka’s grip for a moment, like a resting babe. Before the ash consumed it. Made it crumble into nothing but a stain on her floor. Disgusting. She’ll have to get someone to clean that up.

Eilidh too held disgust, just differently placed. Her mouth was overwhelmed in ferocity. Her shrieks of damnation. Despite the obstruction in her throat, it rang out. True and clear. It was the only thing clear to her then. Nothing else mattered but the broiling mixture of anger and spite. It threatened to become a volcano, the thing in her throat its lava. Fuck the plan. She didn’t care what the man intended to do. All she wanted to do, needed to do, was to bite. To tear and rip the flesh of the fucker who did the same to her love. She needed to bite. Again.

Franka’s battle cry was far more quiet. A simple twitch of her brow was the only hint of her signal. Those who waited in the shadows descended, finally called to the light. The feast may have not gone as she hoped, but at least her vampires would indulge. And she would indulge too, in the entertainment.

It was the first time in a long time — the first time ever, maybe, that all the rage and all the anger in a fight belonged to someone other than Emilio. He could feel Metzli simmering with it, feel it coming off them in waves. It was understandable, of course. If it were someone he loved hanging above that table, he didn’t think he’d be holding it together half as well as they were. He would have jumped in already, would have leapt into the fight with little regard for how it might end. If it were someone Emilio loved hanging over that table, the fight would have already been over; they would have already lost.

Even with his slayer abilities, the elder’s compulsion was strong. It took everything Emilio had to remain rooted, nose twitching in irritation as the vampire spoke again. Wait until he was hungry. His eyes darted up to the zombie playing chandelier above the table. Something told him the elder’s version of hospitality wasn’t something he’d ever really be in the mood for. “Pass,” he replied gruffly, jaw clenched. He glanced over to Metzli, offering a brief nod in response to their instruction. He didn’t respond verbally, didn’t confirm which option he would attempt even in the comfort of Spanish. There was no way of knowing that no one here spoke it, and they were already at a disadvantage. If they could have any semblance of the element of surprise on their side, they needed to maintain it.

Surprise seemed to be Metzli’s goal, too. They moved forward quickly, and Emilio launched into action right behind them. Yanking the knife from the table as they went to distract the elder, he tossed it up at the knot holding Metzli’s partner in place. His aim was good; it always was. The blade sliced through the rope, and Emilio jumped onto the table, knocking plates and glasses aside to keep Eilidh from landing on her head.

A snap caught his attention, and he turned just in time to see Metzli’s arm turn to dust on the table, detached from their torso. In spite of himself, he winced at the display. There was no time to focus on it, no time to leap in to intervene. The elder called to what remained of her clan, and they began to descend on the table. Cursing, Emilio adjusted his grip so that he held the axe with one hand, pulling a stake from his jacket with the other. “Any chance you want to hold one of these in your teeth and help me out a little here?” He glanced to the zombie, armless and clearly pissed off. There was every chance she’d rather go to Metzli, and Emilio wouldn’t blame her for it, but he didn’t like being quite this outnumbered. Glancing over his shoulder to Metzli and the elder, he grimaced. This had definitely gone to shit.

A painful scream echoed in the room, falling silent instantly as face met floor. What the fuck had just happened? The amount of white-hot pain didn’t allow for many thoughts to pass through. Especially when Metzli realized what was hitting their face. Plumes of the ash, from their own arm, spread in the air and forced them to shut their eyes tightly. They didn’t bother saying another word, knowing there wasn’t anything to utter besides a guttural growl. One to protest the agony piercing through every nerve and fight back instead. It wasn’t time to give up or linger on what-ifs. All they could do was pick themselves up and take solace in the fact that they weren’t weathering the battle alone. They could wince and groan over their damn arm later.

Picking up a stake that lay near the pile that was once their limb, Metzli stood up and saw Macleod’s display of pure rage and power. They couldn’t help but pause, even in the line of danger. Their relationship was founded on their faith in one another, so they took that breath to compose themselves enough to settle their fury appropriately. Finding the strength to put themselves back into battle, Metzli slammed a stake blindly into a fledgling’s chest running up behind them, feeling the ash settle just as they headed towards their love. “Macleod.” They stated with a bated breath, unable to say anything else before more vampires interrupted. Whipping their head left and right as they headbutted and kicked. The elder was gone and Metzli angrily grabbed their and threw it at a fledgling’s head, sending them down with a dull thud. This had all gone to shit, and if they couldn’t get rid of the elder, they would save their love. “We need to go!”

Metzli knew Macleod wouldn’t run from a fight, even if she was in danger with no arms. “Stay close to me. I’ll get us outside and through these pendejos.” They’d be a weapon she could use and ensure her safety. They’d be whatever she needed to buy her time, act even if their life was a maxed out credit card. The debt of which they had only begun to consolidate. Their severed arm was the first payment of many. And while that was a larger sum than most were willing to put down, Metzli would do it again. A million times over. Even without a soul, they were sure of that.

Eilidh was so lost to anger, she hadn’t realized she was moving. Falling. As that realization finally came, it had met its end. Punctuated with a crack and a crackling of nerves. The kind that threatened to be followed by silence if the angle was too skewed. But she had suffered through enough of nothingness, and Fate agreed. The pain only continued to blossom, turning her back into a scorching flame. The kind that did not burn, but electrified. It spread into her lungs, finding release in her harsh cackling. It felt divine on her lips. Finally! Her body struggled to follow her demands. Cracking and spitting like any fire would, with her legs wobbling like the flames. They soon slipped back into their proper shape, at least the parts of her still present. Perhaps it was the lack of arms that had kept the vampire’s eyes off of her. Thinking she was not even worth spitting on: too weak. The look in her eyes said otherwise. Directed at the Elder with enough bite that had no choice but to become real. She simply followed it. Unknowing of the man’s words, or anything really but the thumping in her chest.

One that was interrupted. A random opposition stood in Eilidh’s war path. As if this vampire could keep the fires at bay. Before the vampire could even flash a threatening sneer, her foot made contact. Shoving them off the table and onto the floor with the rest of the elder’s trash. The second vampire was more stubborn, but her tactic was too. Once more, her leg kicked out. Straight to the knee. Crack! The impact caused a new dent to her tfoot, and the very same to the vampire’s leg. Forcing it to bend the other way. His screams of pain soon turned to those of rage. But just as her own had been interrupted, his fires were immediately quenched — choked out by her bite. With all her untapped hunger, she tore into his neck. The tattered skin met that obstruction in her throat, making it all cascade down her chin. Stained it with gray as it dissolved to ash. Her shoulders writhed in eager wanting, forgetting their lack of arms. All she wanted to do was pin and feast. The vampire did so, too. Not with teeth, but with fingers. Tearing at her flesh with the same ferocity as she bit into his.

Eilidh began to snap down on his spine when the vampire peeled away. She assumed it was a tactic — a means to end her quicker. Her teeth moved to latch on again. To choke out that want before it could be fulfilled. Until she heard that familiar voice… saw those familiar eyes and that familiar hand. Now no longer plural. Her love had her opponent secured. But she found her first, her true target, was gone. Metzli spoke more, words she would have gladly listened to, if her rage hadn’t drowned out her ears. Instead, she shrieked like a banshee. That scream wished it could damn that elder to her death. But all Eilidh could do was scream. Fate did not listen.

It was clear that Metzli’s partner neither wanted nor needed Emilio’s help, and that was fine. He’d much rather be tasked with saving his own ass than he would with the ass of someone who couldn’t protect themselves and, arms or no, the zombie could clearly look out for herself. So could Metzli, for that matter. If nothing else, it gave the three of them a shot at making it out of this thing in the same state of living they’d entered it in. Not exactly unscathed, and not technically alive in Metzli or her partner’s case, but… More or less okay. He told himself that was a good thing.

Still, rage flared up when the elder seemed to decide they were no longer worth sticking around for. “Fucking coward,” he seethed, kicking back one of the underlings that approached him. They were all chomping at the proverbial bit here, he knew, and despite the acidic nature of his blood, he was probably the most tempting meal of the three. Slayer blood was a delicacy when purified. If anyone managed to get a taste of his, Emilio was going to be beyond pissed.

He slammed a stake into the nearest chest, so blinded by his anger that it was something of a small miracle that said chest belonged to one of his enemies and not to Metzli or their partner. “You told me I’d get to kill an elder,” he snapped in Metzli’s direction, irritation clear in his tone. “I’m feeling a little cheated.” He didn’t want to leave the fight. It wasn’t a fight they could win, and he knew it. Staying here would mean dying, but leaving would mean admitting defeat. And Emilio hated that. Not long ago, the concept of living might have been a hare more enticing than the idea of giving up was disappointing, but lately… It felt like more of a toss-up.

Hunger was starting to bite at Metzli’s stomach and they dropped to their knees in pain. Getting an arm ripped clean off wasn’t exactly good for their body, and it required a significant amount of healing. With no blood, their body began to grow stiff. They wanted to stay on the ground, but they had to keep moving. “¡Cállate Emilio! It was never a guarantee! You should’ve been faster!” They barked, panting, utilizing breath to ease the burn and ache as much as possible.

It all felt so overwhelming. The screaming, the pawns, the pain. Metzli growled as they slid their feet back underneath them, rising tall again as they found strength in the foundation they laid down. One put together by desperation and a need to just live one more day. Or at least, get Macleod another one. Out of anyone in that room, they knew their wrongdoings put them at the bottom of the list. No illusion, not even one by Houdini himself could mask that. So they moved, staking a vampire before wrapping an arm, their only arm, around their screaming partner. She was angry, and she could get angrier if she wanted, but she had to do it outside. Do it where she’d be a little safer so she could continue to give her beauty in her every day motions. Plant her existence and let it bloom longer. And what was so funny was that Metzli knew her worries, her fears of being left behind. The very idea that she was a backup plan was laughable, especially then. Venturing out and needing a backup plan herself, and Metzli willingly became hers because they would make no exodus. Never with their partner.

Metzli picked Macleod up and she continued to scream. Thrash around in need to find that elder. She was ferocious that way, and that’s how Metzli liked her. All bark and bite. It felt so good to see she still had that energy, and having her finally in their grasp caused a few tears to form. As violence surged through her body, relief pooled in theirs and they didn’t want to let go when they reached the grass at the bottom of the steps. They fell to their knees and held her closely, feeling their heart clench in preparation for a fall, for a last minute wave of brutality. It made their voice strained and beckoned tears to finally fall as they settled into the car. “Why were you in there, Macleod? ¡A veces estas bien loca!” They pulled her in, fighting against the stiffness in their body and the beating heart near. Love was more important. It had to be. “I can live without everything else, but not you. Never you! I need you to get that.”

From a second story window, Franka watched them retreat with a goblet in hand. One of the few that still remained. How ungrateful letting all that good food go to waste. Letting all her preparation and plans to be shared go to waste. At least those she had hoped to be guests found their new designation: out of her damn house. Though, not without stealing even more from her. She could feel parts of her collection fading. Lights flickering out into a permanent dark. A part of her was sad to see them go. Perhaps even tempted to seek out revenge, with those deserving still in her sights. But she could admit, this merely proved whomst amongst her flock were the most capable. She’ll have to go and make more. Stronger ones. The thought of finding new ones to indulge in, share in her company, pushed aside any of those angry thoughts. So, she enjoyed the conclusion to the show as she poured the sweet blood down her throat.

Trapped on Metzli’s shoulder, Eilidh had no other choice but to look. To glare and snarl, in lieu of hands that itched in phantom wanting. Her eyes tried to do all the tearing instead, when she noticed the elder. Only a silhouette against the glass, protected by the night’s shadow, but Eilidh knew it was her. Watching and laughing. She could see the smirk on her face as clearly as if it were inches away. Burnt into her eyes by her vitriol. It consumed her. Turned her into a convulsing, thrashing thing that only wanted to bite. Her hunger eagerly stoked that flame, for it bit at her with equal frenzy. She was merely following its example, to fulfill that natural need. Biting and biting and biting. Wanting to bite someone, anyone. Even the man who had helped her moments before. Her hunger certainly demanded a sacrifice… Until her snapping mouth was called to other things. Wills of the heart instead of the teeth.

Eilidh blinked at Metzli in a daze, for she was lost to one. The air surrounding her suddenly shifted from dripping blood to dripping pain. Those tears crashing down her love’s face. Her eyes still shook with temptation to glare at the elder. That last grip of obsession refusing to relent to a dying cause. But the tears finally had their way with her. Waves across her anger — washing it away. Before she was engulfed, instead, by a familiar embrace. She wasn’t sure she should trust their words. Words than rang true on their tongue, but struggled to do the same in her heart. At least in the beautiful moment that Fate allowed, she felt she could believe it. It fit nicely in her ears, but not yet reciprocated by her mouth. Her teeth still chattered in unfulfilled hunger. The only sounds she could produce, she soon remembered. Despite her attempts, she could only muster meager squawks and grunts… Right.

The thing she came there for.

Eilidh’s throat was overwhelmed in what seemed to be growls. But the rumbling did not care for violence or the threat of it. No, they were there to guide. With each strain of muscle, the rumbling grew louder. Clearer. As if her throat was waking up from a deep slumber. Pop! That thing finally dislodged. Like a mother bird to her chicks, she offered her gift to Metzli. The elder’s skin soon found its new home on their lap. Freeing her throat for a chuckle, and then to words.  She leaned into Metzli’s ear. It was a miracle she managed to drop her voice to a whisper, for the moment swept her into a sudden fit of delight. It found itself in her gentle giggle, “Call me Eilidh.”

“I was a little busy saving your asses,” Emilio griped, ducking as a vampire swung at him and returning the blow with a jab from his stake to send it up in dust. He had little choice but to follow Metzli and their partner in retreat; even if he could take down every remaining vampire alone, he’d be stupid to go up against the elder without backup. The temptation was still there, still clawing at him for reasons he pretended had more to do with killing the elder and less to do with the possibility that he might die trying, but he pushed the thought aside. Metzli made it pretty clear that they had no plan of leaving him here, and as much as he might say he disliked them, he didn’t want to get them or their partner killed. He’d fucked up Milo’s life enough already. If he got the kid’s surrogate family killed on top of everything else, he didn’t think he’d ever find any kind of way to be okay with himself again.

The trip back to the car was a blur, and Emilio positioned himself behind the wheel with a glare that dared either of his two undead companions to argue. Both Metzli and their partner were short a few limbs, so it was only logical for the slayer to drive. Besides, with him up front, they could sit together in the back and talk about… whatever the hell that was. Emilio eyed them both in the rearview, brows furrowed together as Metzli’s partner began to growl. “If you bite me, I’m gonna stab something,” he muttered irritably, glancing back to the road.

A new sound drew his attention back to the mirror, and he watched as something fell from the zombie’s throat. The pieces started coming together, little by little. “Is that…?” It was hard to tell from his position, but… What else would it be? “Christ.” At least the trip wasn’t a total waste.

Whatever Emilio was saying, it didn’t really matter to Metzli. For the most part, all they captured was that he was going to stab something, and if they remembered, they’d find a moment to poke at him for being vague. But for the time being, his voice was a mere murmur as Metzli looked down. The skin that had been so far out of their grasp was now in their lap. It was the final piece of their puzzle, their chance to finally be whole again. “You…” An unfinished thought. What Macleod—No, Eilidh, had to say was much more important. She was busy giving a piece of herself to them, filling the cavity their soul was supposed to be in. Eloy had emptied them so they would feel nothing, and that hurt worse than any wound or broken bone. But Eilidh had filled them with love, care, and purpose. She did that without expecting anything in return, and because love was a currency that worked best in reverse, Metzli would spend their days ensuring they gave more than they got. Hell, they’d give an arm for her.

“I love you.” Metzli muttered quietly, pulling her even closer. “I love you, Eilidh.”