#my work friend annoyed the absolute Fuck outta me today and it made my shift so much harder than it needed to be

[sunny12th]

[clansayeed]

Bound by Circumstance ― Chapter 23: Happily Ever After

PAIRING: Nik Ryder x trans*M!MC (Taylor Hunter) RATING: Mature

⥼ MASTERLIST ⥽

⥼ Bound by Circumstance ⥽

Taylor Hunter (MC) has made it good for himself in New Orleans; turns out moving to a new city fresh out of college to reinvent yourself isn’t as hard as people make it out to be. Things only start to get confusing when he finds himself the target of a malevolent wraith. Good thing someone’s looking out for him though — because without Nighthunter Nik Ryder as his bodyguard he definitely won’t survive long in the twisting darkness of the supernatural underworld he’s tripped into.

Bound by Circumstance and the rest of the Oblivion Bound series is an ongoing dramatic retelling project of the book Nightbound and the rest of the Bloodbound series. Find out more [HERE].

Note: Circumstance only loosely follows the events and plotline of Nightbound, and features a separate antagonist, different character motivations, and further worldbuilding.

*Let me know if you would like to be added to the Circumstance/series tag list!

⥼ Chapter Summary ⥽

For now.

[READ IT ON AO3]

They make sure the first thing Kristin sees when she opens her eyes is the pair of them on either side of her hospital bed. Both of her hands in theirs and they’re so close to being able to hold back the tears in their eyes.

But when she licks her dry lips and looks them both over with groggy delirium, only to say “I think I’m over Mardi Gras, guys,” they’re her first words in a week that’s felt like an entire year and how could they do anything but ugly cry as loud and messy and utterly ridiculous as they possibly can.

“Now don’t go marryin’ that idea, Cookie,” Vera blubbers; wipes her thumbs carefully to preserve her wing-tip, “‘specially when you see the place our friend’s got hooked up with.”

“Nope, I’m sticking to water.”

Taylor snorts with a fond roll of his eyes. “Yeah, I’ll believe it when I see it.”

And even though they know for a fact she’ll make a full recovery she was found in a cemetery—at night—and her coma lasted several days; so Taylor and Vera don’t make much of a fuss when the doctor kicks them out. She makes them promise to come back as soon as they can, which of course they do.

They’re waiting to the elevator when a melodic humming catches Taylor’s ears; he knows that voice.

Sure enough Tilly strolls around the corner, pushing a cart with a squeaking back wheel in front of her without so much as a touch. Her hands have better things to do — like spoon a healthy heap of strawberry jello into her mouth.

The cart doesn’t even slow when their paths cross but the elf doesn’t let that stop her from grabbing two jiggling cups and plop-plopping them into Vera’s hands. A wink and twitch of her nose and she’s off around another corner as though she was never there.

Vera stares down at the jello in wordless confusion. Before she can say anything the lift arrives and doors slide open.

“I’ll explain on the way,” Taylor promises, plucks his gifted jello cup and presses the button for the ground floor.

They leave the hospital full of jello and laughter. Which was probably the elf’s intention.

Two blocks away from the Graveyard Shift Taylor stops them; puts a gentle hand on Vera’s upper arm and moving them out of the way of tourists still loitering around the Quarter in waves.

Judging by the fall of her face Vera’s been expecting this — and it’s not a conversation he’s excited about either but ignoring unseemly topics is something that hits a little too close to home these days.

“Have you decided what you’re gonna do?”

“Been a little busy, Tay.” Easygoing tone now clipped; curt. Almost cold but he knows it’s not her. “We shouldn’t keep everyone waitin’.”

“I think they’ll understand.”

“Okay — I tried t’be nice but I guess I just gotta be blunt. I don’t want to talk about it.”

His silence is long enough to wedge a bolt in her defense — has Vera peering up through her curls where he waits patiently. Which only frustrates her further. “You’re annoying sometimes, you know that Taylor Hunter?”

He shrugs — she’s not wrong. “Nik makes sure I don’t forget.”

Silence, and more silence, and a few attempts to weasel around him and continue down the sidewalk that end in a childish bout of fake-out standoffs; then she finally accepts defeat.

“I wanna stay, really I do. But I moved away to distance myself from this—this life. And if I stay then what have the past couple’a years of my life been for then, you know?”

He knows, and nods; she continues, “My biggest thing is… I don’t know who my momma is without the Touch; without bein’ Lady Smoke. Hell I’m not even sure she knows. You should see how she’s been actin’ Taylor; three whole days later and she’s back in her office actin’ like nothing has changed.

“But it has. And sooner or later word’ll get out what happened to her an’ that she doesn’t have the same leverage as she used to.” She worries her bottom lip between her teeth; she’s been doing that a lot recently. “It’d be nice to think about her givin’ it all up but I know she won’t. What if she turns to somethin’ equally terrible or worse to keep people fearin’ her?”

There’s a light to her eyes that wasn’t there before; maybe even Vera didn’t know how much Vera needed to vent the things weighing her down. And Taylor? Well he empathizes; literally. Her worries are his worries. Her concern is his concern.

And because she knows in her heart of hearts that Tonya Reimonenq is not only capable but likely to try and regain any echo of the power the bloodwraith took from her — by any means necessary — he knows it too.

Taylor wishes he had certainties for her. That he can give her the definitive this is what will happen and this is how we’ll deal with it of the matter. But he can’t.

“No matter what she does, the New Accords will keep her in line.”

The look she gives him; will they though? isn't by any fault of hers. In fact it’s Vera’s healthy caution that’s helped them all this way so far so he trusts it as much as anything else.

“Don’t stay because you want to keep an eye on Tonya. You’ve got Nik and me for that.” He links their arms, doesn’t miss her little breath of relief when they continue walking.

“Stay because you want to. I’d sure love it if you did.”

“I’ll give it a real thought, okay?”

“I could ask for nothing more.”

They enter the Shift together and everything is the same — everyone is exactly as the pair left them. That isn’t a good thing.

“Raise your voice at me again, go on.”

“Kathy will you stop goadin’ the werewolf?”

“You’ve got one last chance Jensen.”

“Guys, please slow down. ‘Taking minutes’ was made for typing and I don’t have another pen.”

“Oh hon’, you don’t need to get the arguments in the minutes.”

Krom flashes a sheepish smile through his tusks at Garrus from across the booth. The bartender is content to keep his distance from the arguing going down in his establishment but he stays because that’s what he agreed to.

Though judging by the bottle of teal-tinted absinthe he’s nearly polished off that might be something of a regret on his part.

Cal leans back in the booth with both hands over his face — probably with the same frustration Nik doesn’t even try to cover up beside him.

“This is useless…”

Across from him Kristof smacks his lips, beer in hand, and nods to his nephew. “First thing we’ve agreed on all day, pup.” And when he makes like he’s about to pull himself away from the uncomfortable situation Katherine snatches at his wrist. Her grip looks practically dainty against the muscle of him but every single soul in the bar knows it to be anything but.

“Sit the fuck back down, Jensen.”

“Nah, I’m done with this shit fer th’day.”

Pull your weight and help me, says the look Katherine snaps at Ryder.

Who leans forward on his elbows with fingers steepled and a hard glare given to the Alpha at the other end of the table.

“If you leave now we just have to start from scratch tomorrow. Do you really want to drag this out?”

Cal groans and continues his useless attempt to become one with his leather seat. He’s just as frustrated as his fellow wolf but Krom’s got him walled in; no chance of escape.

But the thought of having to repeat the ordeal is, luckily(?), terrible enough that the wood of the seat creaks to accommodate the Alpha as he settles back in.

“Fine. But come sunset I’m outta here; I got shit t’do.”

Katherine agrees with a nod. “It won’t take that long.”

“The Lamrians didn’t take this long,” mutters Nik under his breath; and its only then that he looks up enough to see Taylor and Vera’s combined amusement where they’ve been watching everything unfold like a governmental pantomime.

“Gettin’ your kicks over there?”

“Absolutely.”

Vera gives a silent touch to his arm — had mentioned before they left that she’d need to make a few work calls at some point today for the sake of both her job and Kristin’s. While she heads up to the Shift’s apartments Taylor drags a stool over to join the fray of frustration.

Does Kristof still make the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end? Yes. Does he look over at that bearded frown and think of the large jaw of canine teeth that could very easily tear him to shreds? Yes.

Does the way he has his arms crossed over his chest, red faced and muttering something under his breath, make him look like a kid angry at not getting his way?

Yes.

In fact the wolf actually seems to lean away from him when Taylor makes himself comfortable; beady eyes trained wary on his hands.

“Something to say?” Katherine only asks because she isn’t wholly unconvinced his attitude isn’t just another tactic for distraction.

“Just keep them flashy fae fingers to yer’self an’ we’re peachy.”

Can anyone blame him when he wiggles his perfectly normal (thank you very much) fingers in Kristof’s direction, then? No, no they cannot.

Krom offers up the long scroll of parchment for him to take — already half-full with the agreed-upon duties, limitations, and expectations of the Quarter’s new Council members.

Being the largest population in city limits by a wide margin, the Mayor’s neatly scrawled signature is the only one beside rules not of his own design. Sure it had been for the best that they not involve anyone who didn’t need to be (and in the Lady de la Rosa’s well-put words, it was smart “not to demand action over one with such influence over the innocent and ignorant”), but that didn’t mean they were met with open arms at City Hall.

In fact, Taylor ended up having to get Elric to come down and ‘lay down the law’ with the man. Perks of having an immortal father who had been to every Mayoral inauguration since the city’s founding.

Seeing as the Mayor (and the humans by default) had literally the least amount of things to worry about, too? He was kind of a dick about it.

Below that were the duties of the faire folk of Lamrian and their Lord Elric and Lady Thalissa.

Lady Thalissa who had not been happy to see Taylor again — but who had also been under the assumption that he had been the one to involve Elric in the events of Mardi Gras. Once they cleared that up (read: once Elric had confessed to leaving Lamrian of his own free will and sort of… falling into everything after) she was rather warm and friendly; even offered to help her (step?) son learn how to better control the magic within.

And of course there was a separate clause specifically for Garrus underneath; who was far too pleased to be considered his own separate sub-category.

The Jensen Pack is up next on the ‘Get Everyone to Agree’ List and following itinerary that had been drawn up by the weary survivors of the Beau-Keyes Garden. But getting Jensen himself and his nephew—who as it turns out is some kind of were-royalty on his mother’s side and if Cal thinks they aren’t going to be talking about that at the first opportunity he’s sorely mistaken—to agree on anything is about as difficult as… well anything else they’ve done so far.

So he has a little hope at least.

“So what’s the biggest argument so far?” He asks finally; gives the parchment back to Krom to roll up for safe-keeping. He’s fallen in love with his new unofficial title as Council Scribe. They’re gonna need to buy ballpoint pens in bulk though.

Nik’s smile drips saccharine and laden with spite. “Dividin’ of authority.”

“It just ain’t natural!” Kristof resumes like someone pressed ‘play,’ “The Alpha doesn’ answer to nobody, that’s jus’ how it is. Here or in any pack you’re gonna run foul of.”

To everyone’s surprise Cal actually agrees; “It’s more of a biological thing than a code or rule. You get more than one Alpha in a room and someone’s gonna come out on top; that’s just the animal kingdom.” Then, with an obvious reluctance; “And I’m no Alpha. It’s a born thing. That’s why Kristof took over pack duties in the first place.”

Taylor looks between them. “What about Octavia?”

“Beta’s beneath my authority, but if there’s any hint’a disagreement it can get ugly.”

“Well that sounds like bull. I’ve seen her disagree with you… pretty much every time you’ve been in the same room.”

The were scratches his chin; averts his eyes with a huff. “That ain’t a pack thing. That’s a… us thing.”

Subtlety wasn’t even an attempt on Nik’s part — his hand coming up in a suggestive and hard-to-misinterpret squeezing motion. Thankfully Kristof only growls, but Taylor sees the mischief in the hunter’s eyes and knows it could have been way worse. It could have been dog-related.

“Okay; well right there you have something that goes against the norm’, right? Why can’t other things? Start off small… build up to an equal foothold in the pack.”

“I’m not returnin’ to the pack, Taylor.”

Their reactions are telling; that Kristof is the only one unsurprised by Cal’s insistence means he knew (and yet he’s still being an ass?) about his nephew’s choice to stay a lone wolf.

Not that it does anything for privacy but Taylor can’t help lowering his voice when he asks; “Are you… are you sure?”

“Sure as salt.”

“But what about Donny?”

“Donny’ll be fine. We already talked it out —”

“‘We’ who, who is ‘we?’” And the simmering pot of Katherine starts to boil. “Not you two ‘we,’ because that — that would be crazy. That would mean you two came to an agreement on something.”

But Cal just shrugs and nods — doesn’t see the danger quite yet.

“Yeah, ‘us two,’ we. Kristof’s an asshole but he’s a brother, too. Always will be.” Which is a statement that goes undisputed; the opposite actually — judging by the noise of agreement. “I get t’see him whenever, an’ even talked him into letting me back home for important stuff; holidays, y’know?”

“And what do you get out of this?” Katherine can’t help but ask. Kristof shrugs it off.

“I can’t go ‘round backin’ up on my word — ‘specially not punishments an’ the like. Opens the pack up to weakness and loners who ain’t so kind comin’ ‘round sniffin’ fer trouble. Ain’t that right pup?”

“Exactly. So we both like the idea of me pullin’ a neutral-party sorta deal. Keepin’ an eye on the city and territory and, on the off-chance, helpin’ out any stray weres. If any packs come down this way they’ll be Kristof’s problem. It’s a good arrangement… I’ll be the Garrus of the wolves.”

Heads turn as there’s an odd noise from the direction of the bar — pink tickling at Garrus’ cheeks as he looks Cal over with amusement.

“You wish you could be me, little wolf. No one’s me but me, myself, and I.”

“I jus’ mean —”

“Relax, darling. I know exactly what you meant, I just had to say it.”

From her point on the U-bend of the booth Katherine gives a shaky exhale. Pinches the bridge of her nose and mouths her way up to seventeen in silence before she can breathe without yelling at someone.

“So what you’re telling me is that you can compromise and agree on things… you’re just actively choosing to argue about the official Council bullshit.”

“Yeah, sounds ‘bout right.”

“Can’t agree with th’pup too much — he’ll get an ego.”

A long silence. Then…

“I hate both of you.”

When Octavia comes around at sunset she isn’t alone. Donny runs into his brother’s arms, because by now everyone in town knows at least some version of the truth of what went down at the Beau-Keyes House that night, and he’s that distinct mixture of angry-happy that only comes with being family.

And being family to someone so chaotically dumb that it sometimes all works out in the end, at that.

Speaking of — Taylor needs to call his mom soon. He should write that down or something.

Cal’s so excited to see his little brother again that he forgets to say goodbye. Not that they’ll hold it against him. Who wouldn’t need a drink and greasy bar food to unwind after spending all day yelling and being yelled at?

Katherine tugs on her leather jacket; takes the poster tube acting as safehouse for the new Council Accords and slings the strap across her chest.

“You’re not staying?” asks Taylor in surprise; she’s just been so around the last couple of days that it’s weird to see her heading out.

“No rest for the wicked,” though he doesn’t miss the little quirk of her smile as she says it, “but really — sun’s down so the vamps are out, and we still need de la Rosa’s terms and agreements.”

“Will Cade be there?” Though he feels stupid for asking and already knows the answer.

She humors him though. “Yeah. From the looks of it we’ll need to work in the same exception clauses for him that we have for Cal and Garrus, if not something like it.”

“Seems like we’re making a lot of those.”

“Seems like maybe we need them.”

Katherine throws an expectant look over his shoulder; Taylor turns to see Krom holding up an apologetic stone in the midst of being dragged to the back by a very eager Garrus. “You’ve got ten minutes!” She calls, and means it.

With Nik upstairs and the curtain closing behind the eager new couple that leaves Taylor and her alone for what might very well be the first time.

He’s not talked to Katherine much — not one-on-one. Makes an awkwardness hang weird between them, tilted too far to one side and sending the whole room just slightly off.

But he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t hoped for at least a small opportunity to talk to her without nosy interruption.

“Hey, if you have a sec —”

“Have you seen them since?” Apparently he wasn’t the only one eager to take advantage of their free moment.

Maybe it’s a trick of the dim bar lighting but Katherine almost looks disappointed when he shakes his head. “The last time was on Mardi Gras. They were watching the whole time, though.”

“The Fate is always watching. They’re bound to witness.”

Yeah, I remember. “You never explained… how you knew. Back at the Coven house.”

Which was on purpose if the look she gives is anything to go by. Has her ruffling her fingers through long plum waves — working out little knots like a nervous habit.

“You’re right.”

“You don’t have to — I mean yeah I’ve been dying to ask but you don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to, Kathy.”

The nickname draws her attention, makes her look him in the eye with a weight of importance. “It’s just complicated, that’s all.”

And he wants to push the issue, literally feels it crawling up his throat itchy and large enough to choke on. But he also understands how hard it is to talk about something before you’re ready. Like, more than most.

How many minutes has it been now? A question she’s gotta be wondering too; she keeps looking behind him hoping for a large stone interruption.

“You know Ryder’s from around here?”

Taylor blinks. “I mean, I figured… he sounds pretty local.”

“And I don’t.”

“No.”

“Because I’m not,” a beat, “but this isn’t my first time in town. No that… that was a couple of years back. I came here for one reason—one person.”

Ah, got it. “The Fate.”

“Usually they don’t get themselves tangled up in stuff like this, you know? They just watch. So when you need to get in touch with them, there are certain rites and rituals to follow.” Katherine’s eyes grow wistful, she snorts; “Be glad we didn’t have to get involved in that nasty business. I’m in no rush to jump those hoops again.”

Again? “So… what did they say?” What he really wants to ask is what did you see them for but he doesn’t, they don’t know one another well enough for that. Maybe some day.

“We never spoke. I backed out right at the edge. I mean I don’t regret it; that night I ended up finding this place, getting in on the hunter crowd, meeting Ryder — actually maybe I regret that bit.”

She doesn’t, not at all. He can tell. “That night, too, was the card game I won Cadence’s job in.”

“Which worked out for you.”

“Ha, depends on who you ask.” She hikes the strap higher on her shoulder, continues tugging at her hair. “That’s not — there’s a point to this I promise. Because The Fate doesn’t exist in this world. They can’t, physically; they’re beyond us. So in order to get to them you have to…”

“You have to leave this world.”

It dawns on him then, what she’s getting at. And she knows he knows because there’s the barest hint of pity behind her guarded gaze. Knows it’s not a vulnerability she allows herself often.

Maybe this whole time he knew. Somewhere deep down, anyway. In the same place where The Fate had hidden the attack at the theatre.

Let me do you this kindness.

“I… I died that night, then.”

“I think so, yes.”

The surprising part is how not painfully difficult that is to process as a fact; a statement instead of a question instead of an ultimatum of martyrdom. He’s finding it more difficult to imagine what to say to Nik because no doubt the hunter would find a way to try and blame himself about it.

Then again… Nik very well could have died in the Garden that night. But surely even the fae couldn’t bring people back from the dead. Surely only someone with power like The Fate had that capability.

Surely.

Taylor doesn’t quite know where he went but when he comes back the look Katherine gives him isn’t reassuring in the slightest. Like she’s ready for him to collapse, shaking, the existential crisis delayed up until right at this very moment with only a half-stranger to comfort him.

“Are you going to be okay?”

Which isn’t a hard question to answer in the least. “Yeah. I mean if something was gonna happen it probably would have by now, right?”

“Jeez, way to jinx yourself.”

“Hey I never said I was the brightest bulb in the pack.”

“Ain’t that right.”

Whatever time they had been allotted by the universe to bring those revelations to light is up. Ryder rounds the staircase down, heavy boots with heavier steps on the creaking metal. And he’s one foot on the floor when the back curtain draws back to reveal Garrus buttoning his waistcoat back up whole Krom hastily tugs on his tee.

Tactless Ryder whistles at the pair; makes Kathy roll her eyes and mutter an insult under her breath, along with; “Pretty sure that’s a couple dozen health code violations, Gar.’”

“I have my own health code.”

“Pretty sure something was violated back there.”

Which is such a terrible innuendo and so terribly typical of Nik that when he goes to pull Taylor into his space by the hip he makes a show of active resistance — a protest statement that says that kind of terrible pun-making is simply not allowed.

Though it’s not as bad as the one that comes to mind at Krom’s stony expression.

The troll looks like he wants to crawl under a rock.

Taylor surrenders eventually. Allows himself to be pulled in close where he can rest his chin on the man’s duster.

“You two crazy kids sticking around?”

Back behind the bar Garrus is already back at work with bottles in hand. Easily recognizable now as the ingredients for Ivy’s favorite bubbly brew; and she should be back soon, shouldn’t she? How long can an exorcism take, even on a house as large as 937 Prytania Street?

Taylor shrugs. “I guess. Midsummer is canceled while the theatre is being fixed back up so I’m…” Gonna be broke soon, is what he is. Something to worry about at a later date.

But the look Nik gives him — there’s something else on the Nighthunter’s mind.

“Up for a little adventure?” Which is a proposition that Taylor should very much turn down were he any kind of sane person, especially given everything they’ve been through this week.

But… What the hell, sanity’s overrated.

The cemetery was supposed to be roped off or something. Reasonably it should have been. But god forbid the city take down one of their biggest tourist attractions; all the dead bodies.

“You know, I thought you meant—like—apps and sodas at a bar or something.”

Because sure, there are people who might find walking hand-in-hand in a supposedly haunted cemetery in the last waning streaks of the sherbet evening to be romantic.

Taylor just isn’t one of them.

There’s that familiar tick in the man’s scarred brow looking down at him. Not that it makes everything better… but it definitely doesn’t hurt.

“All the weird shit we’ve done by now and you thought ‘adventure’ was code for�� what, a vanilla dinner date?”

“Oh, so this is a date huh?”

“I would’a thought that was obvious.”

“Nik Ryder — nothing about you is obvious.”

And that fact isn’t contested — isn’t worth being contested because they both know better. But for some reason Taylor’s chest feels a little bit lighter when he breathes again. Purely metaphorically, though, as he has to borrow his hand back for a second to adjust where his binder rides up uncomfortably in the humidity.

It’s kind of weirdly beautiful the way Nik’s hand is still held out a little from his side — waiting to be taken back up. He doesn’t let it wait long.

Okay, maybe he’s a little wrong. Maybe there’s one thing about the Nighthunter that’s obvious; but he has a sneaking suspicion it’s only that way because Nik lets it be.

Obviously this thing, them — without words or long discussion over candles and spaghetti or passionate clinging kisses in the rain or anything else years of rom-com consumption have said define a relationship — isn’t going away.

It’s like everything else they do; an impulse, a behavior felt in the gut. No filter, no holding back.

They walk the paths and rows of Lafayette and talk. A comment or question here and there; half the time they’re so focused on trying not to interrupt one another they end up walking around and around in silence. Normally for him silence is an awkward thing; silence has almost always meant something that has been said or needs to be said hangs a heavy burden. Not this time. And, if he dares to believe it, maybe not for a long time coming.

On their fifth (or is it sixth?) go-around they come to a natural stop. Nik’s head tilted up to watch the night clear over their heads — and Taylor just watches him with awe; with joy.

“Hey, Taylor?”

His name, so it must be important. “Yeah Nik?”

“Thanks for savin’ my life.”

“Any time.”

Two words that make the man stop; turn to look at him fully. Something swimming in his eyes all weird and misty but still, somehow, kinda beautiful.

“You mean that, don’t you.” The way Nik says it — it definitely isn’t a question more than it is a fact he’s always known but never been able to put into words. Like knowing the sky is blue, or that there’s more to the world around them than anyone could possibly imagine.

Taylor nods. “Of course.” Obviously, how could you ever think I’d do anything less? That I wouldn’t do more?

Then clammy hands are on his cheeks and Taylor lets himself be pulled into the kiss. Lets it come to them both as naturally as breathing and just as necessary.

Just like the last time — though under vastly different circumstances — he’s shaking tip to toe when they break. Surely there’s gotta be some supernatural way to make it so they need to kiss more than they need air. He should get on that.

He’d been asked on ‘a little adventure’ but it makes sense now that in true Ryder-fashion he had been vague on purpose. One of those ‘the adventure was inside us all along’ sorta deals. Which would have been preferable to nearly dying numerous times, apparently actually dying once, dealing with shady goblins and supernatural mobsters and finding out he wasn’t entirely human at all… right? Right. Totally right. Even if he ended up finding the father he never knew and piecing together a ragtag ‘found family’ trope and—if he was reading all of the signs correctly—getting a smokin’ hot boyfriend out of it all.

At some point probably they’ll be pulled apart. A patrol officer could catch them, here out in the open as they are, and threaten to remove them from cemetery grounds. A ghoul could arise from the ground between them intent on wreaking havoc in their now peaceful (however temporary) city. Or maybe some long-slumbering kraken will awake from the depths of the Mississippi and start eating hungover tourists.

Yeah, at some point they’ll probably be pulled apart.

But that’s okay.

They’ve faced worse.

[lettuce-seize-the-day]

Found ch. 6

Summary:  Jack Kelly is a 17 year old kid who has been in the foster system for more of his life than not. By now he's given up on finding his forever family and is counting down the days until he turns 18. Four months before the deadline, Miss Medda Larkin decides she is going to adopt him.

Chapter summary:  Davey and Jack have a disagreement in gym class. Jack needs some space, and Race comes in clutch.

AO3 link

“Where’s your gym clothes, Kelly?” the gym teacher asked. It was Tuesday, third period. P.E. day. The students were lined up in alphabetical order on the line on the basketball court. And, of course, David was in his gym class, and Jacobs and Kelly were only so far from one another in the alphabet. Which meant David was next to Jack. Again.

“Forgot ‘em,” he said, shrugging. Fat chance he was going to take his hoodie off in front of anyone, now or ever. But especially not for fucking gym class of all things.

“We got extra ones, y’know,” the teacher replied.

“I’ll pass, thanks.”

“You don’t change, you don’t participate. You don’t participate, you get a zero for the day. That happens three times and you got detention. You sure this is how you want to play this out?”

“Ooh, I’m quakin’. Ya see me? Terrified. It’s the end of the world if I wear jeans in a gym. But I guess it’s a risk I’m just gonna hafta take,” said Jack, rolling his eyes.

The teacher looked at him, then scribbled something down on his clipboard before continuing down the line.

“Why wouldn’t you change?” whispered David, who had never taken a zero in his life and could not fathom someone choosing to, especially for something which seemed so silly to him.

Jack gave him a laugh. “What can I say, Davey? I’m a rebel widda cause. Fuck the system, an’ all that.”

David shook his head. He could never. He didn’t like gym, either, but half the grade was just showing up and the other half was doing what you were supposed to. They stood in silence for a second, before he replied. “I could bring you gym clothes, if you needed.”

Jack looked at him. “Why would I need that?”

David shifted uncomfortably and looked at the ground. “It’s just, if you don’t have gym clothes, or don’t wanna carry ‘em around, or whatever reason. I could bring you some. I don’t mind.” He didn’t mean to be rude, but Jack clearly needed to go clothes shopping. David knew Medda was fairly well-off, so he didn’t really understand why Jack dressed the way he did. But he wore the same old hoodie every day, and it was in bad shape.

“Thanks, Davey, I ‘preciate it. But I don’t need that. I jus’ ain’t gonna change into some stupid clothes for some stupid class when no matta what happens, I’m outta here in a few months.”

“You don’t think you’ll finish the school year?” asked David.

“Nah, prolly not. It ain’t my thing.”

“What about Race? And Crutchie, and Medda?”

Jack sighed, a bit aggravated at the way this conversation was going. “They’s fine, I jus’ ain’t wanna start pretendin’ this is permanent or nothin’. ‘Sides, I ain’t smart enough to graduate, so why waste my time here any more than I hafta? Nah, the minute I turn eighteen, I’m hittin’ the road.”

“I think you’re plenty smart,” he said softly. “And I wish you’d give yourself more of a chance.”

“Yeah? Well, I wish you'd mind ya business and not worry ‘bout problems that ain’t yours to worry ‘bout. ‘Specially when ya don’t even know the first thing ‘bout me. Who the hell d’you think you are?” Jack snapped. He liked David just fine, but he was clearly crossing a line here.

David looked at the ground. “I just think… things could be better for you. If you only tried a little bit. But it’s like you don’t want them to be, so you can prove some bullshit point to yourself about how the world is so awful, or whatever.”

Jack was absolutely flabbergasted. Here was this kid who didn’t know him at all, calling him out in ways that no one else had ever dared to before. No one had ever cared enough to. And he was angry, because he knew he was right, but it was none of his business! And it started from some stupid argument about gym clothes, of all things.

Jack scoffed. “Whateva. I’m outta here,” he muttered as he walked right out of the gym, consequences be damned. He was no stranger to trouble, and could not stand to be next to Davey for one more goddamn second.

_______________________________________________________

Fourth period was chemistry, which Jack and Race shared, along with Spot Conlon and Katherine. Today, the teacher was assigning lab partners for the semester. She read down from a list that she had already made, then the students went to sit with their new partners. Jack wasn’t in class, but he ended up being partnered with Spot. Race maintained a neutral face, acting as though he didn’t care at all, but of course he cared. He also wondered where Jack was. Then he got a text asking him to meet in the boy’s bathroom by the gym.

Race stood up immediately. “Umm… Miss, I hafta use the restroom,” he said.

She rolled her eyes, annoyed at his verbal disruption of the lecture. “Take the pass,” she said, gesturing to the pass hanging from a lanyard by the door before she continued.

Race gave a little awkward bow before grabbing the pass hanging on the door and went to find Jack in the bathroom.

“What’s up, Jackie?” he asked.

“Can I bum a smoke?”

Race was surprised. Jack didn’t seem the type. But he pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his backpack and handed him one. What were brothers for? “Here,” he said, tossing him his lighter. “Did somethin’ happen?”

Jack ignored him at first, focused on lighting the cigarette in his mouth. He took a very long drag, then exhaled slowly, his eyes closed as he leaned up against the wall. “Jus’ nosey people askin’ stupid questions.”

“Like who? Like what?” asked Race, trying to ignore the irony in his response.

Jack opened one eye and gave him a look, indicating that the irony was not lost on him either. Then, after a pause, he closed his eye again and sighed. “Dat friend o’yours, Davey? He jus’ don’t have a clue when it’s time ta drop somethin’. Ain’t no respect fuh boundaries, dat kid.” He took another drag of the cigarette, then coughed a little. He wasn't much of a smoker.

Race understood. While David was a good friend, he really could be overbearing. Which was part of why Race was now so good at putting up a front- he had to be a fast learner, once David decided he was going to be his friend. “I’s sorry, Jack. Ya know he means well. S’just he ain’t neva had ta sleep nowhere but a real house wid two whole folks tuckin’ him in at night. Sometimes he jus’ don’t understand what we been through, cuz he ain’t neva had nothin’ ya can’t ask questions ‘bout.”

Jack nodded. It made sense. But he still just… pushed his buttons, somehow.

“If ya don’t mind my askin’... and ‘course ya can say no, too, but… what was it exactly that gottim so curious?”

“Oh, just stuff ‘bout my work ethic, my potential, how I oughta stay here an’ keep doin’ this school bullshit even afta I turn eighteen. Dat sorta stuff, completely outta nowhere,” said Jack. “Totally outta line, too,” he added, taking another drag of the cigarette.

Hearing this made Race’s heart sink a bit. “Ya don’t… ya don’t think ya gonna stick around, then, huh?” He couldn’t say he was surprised, but he was sad. He really bonded with Jack, and didn’t understand why Jack would choose to leave when there was a door open for him to a place where he was welcomed as family.

Jack looked up at him and saw the slightest change in Race’s expression. It was exactly like yesterday, when they were talking at the bench- something just beneath the surface had shifted. Like suddenly his neutral face was a lie he had to maintain. “It ain’t nothin’ personal, Race. I’s just… not a family guy.”

“I hear ya, Jack.” Race looked at the ground, his expression completely blank. “I gotta get back ta class.” He began to make his way out of the bathroom.

“Racer,” Jack said behind him. He turned and looked at him, wondering what he could have to say. Jack tossed him his lighter. “Thanks for da smoke.”

Race gave a small smile and a half-shrug as he pocketed the lighter, not looking at Jack. “What else is bruddas for?” He turned and walked most of the way out of the bathroom, before stopping in his tracks at the door for just a moment. Without turning around, he said, “Family is for everyone. Ain’t no one too good for it, and ain’t no one don’t deserve it. Like it or not, ya already got one, and it’s up ta youz what ya gonna do widdit.” And with that, he continued walking out the door.

Jack paused for a second, then took another drag of the cigarette that Race had given him. This was exactly the kind of bullshit that made him not want a family. He hated feeling responsible for anyone else. It was always hard on him, especially in houses with kids younger than him. He always ended up being some kind of big-brotherly figure to them, and then he worried about them like crazy when they were inevitably separated. And he always ended up alone. Every time. He was tired of it.

And then, he wasn’t alone. He heard footsteps down the hall, and tried to put out his cigarette as quick as he could. As he was tapping it on the sink trying to extinguish it, the guidance counselor, Snyder, walked in. Jack froze as they made eye contact. His eyes went from Jack, to the cigarette in his hand, and back up to Jack.

[silvcrignis]

Finding Chill || Keira & Severus || Drabble

Prompt: What do you mean the annoying ass former Quidditch Captain from my year who was low-key my best friend is coming to work here? Without telling me???? It’s been 13 years without a BIT of contact from her how DARE you all?

Summary: Severus Snape is not taking the identity of the Professor of Hogwart’s newest class very well at all. But then he kinda gets over himself.

Severus Snape couldn’t help but feel there was something the Headmaster was AVOIDING when he announced the fact that there would be a new optional class added to the Hogwarts curriculum.

In fact he noticed Minerva McGonagall in particular avoided eye contact with HIM the entire meeting and he was starting to become suspicious although his tone is NEUTRAL when he asks his question he is GLOWERING at Dumbledore.

“And WHAT is the subject matter of this new class?”

“Supernatural Creature Consciousness. I’m quite sure everyone remembers Vladimir Winchester. Ever since he’s left our school he’s been working for better relationships and communications between Muggles, wizards, and non-human sentient creatures alike. Although the class won’t be officially part of the curriculum until next near due to the Vampire Council’s paperwork proc-”

Suddenly his eyebrow shoot upwards as he interrupts the older wizard in an icy tone that causes the rest of the faculty to shift nervously. He REMEMBERED Vladimir Winchester. A bouncy excitable black haired boy in his year, who’d offered him a very NICE drawing of himself once. Winchester had always been attached to ONE more person he remembered all TOO vividly.

“Vampire Council? And WHO is teaching the class?” he asked Minerva KNOWING she knew.

“Well there were very FEW candidates and only ONE had actually taken all of the Council’s qualification classes necessary for the curriculum-”

“Who?”

“I hardly see how that is-”

He turned from his colleague, knowing SHE was useless, his dark eyes BORING into Dumbledore again.

“Albus. I will ask EXACTLY once more.”

“Keira Black.” he finally sighed.

The room goes silent. Everyone remembered Severus’ various struggles with the former Quidditch Captain, how much they’d BICKERED & how OFTEN he’d stormed from the Great Hall because of her & his twin sister’s blatant TORMENT of him  and if the shade of quickly pink colouring his face was anything to go by so did he. (Unbeknownst to them all, she’d actually been his FRIEND but he was ANGRY with her for a greater offence.)

“I would ask if you’re joking but that’s too FUCKING good to be true.” he started, inspecting his nails with a false nonchalance that the people sitting closest to him saw straight through & quickly moved away from just as he stood so quickly & VIOLENTLY his seat CLATTERED to the floor.

“Keira Black?! NONE of you know her like I do & that’s understandable. But you ALL remember her. Have you all forgotten what a FUCKING terror she is?! Just HOW long did you think I’d be blissfully unaware of her presence?! Did you all honestly think I’d react PEACEFULLY to this if you avoided telling me?!” he spat, slamming his fist against the table so HARD his knuckle leaves a dent and the splintered wood drew BLOOD in vengeance.

“Severus, CALM down.” Albus insisted, wide eyed as his employee’s eyes flashed cobalt briefly in his rage.

“Oh I’ll calm down. I’ll calm down when you approve the RESIGNATION I’ll be leaving in the morning.” he replied, turning and billowing out of the room, simultaneous picking WOOD from his fist.

“So who’s going to tell him she’ll be in the dungeons as well & she’s moving in TONIGHT?” Flitwick squeaked after the Potions Master’s stormy exit.

Several hours later

the already disgruntled wizard was awoken by various BUMPING noises in the dungeon’s hall and with a growl he stalked out of his bed, scratching at his BARE chest in irritation as a flick of his wand opened the door and sent the LAST person he wanted to see on Earth falling backwards into his private quarters and it’s a wonder he still had the DECENCY to catch the other Slytherin by the collar of her leather jacket BEFORE her head hit the floor.

Green eyes that hadn’t been quite so iridescent the last time he’d seen Keira Black (Thirteen years ago and breathing heavily under an enchanted mistletoe at her parent’s house to be exact) land on his crimson underwear and her head tilted as she’s righted and released.

“Didn’t really take you for a red boxer guy.” she commented before shrugging.

His arms fold over his chest.

“Why are you making so much noise at eleven bloody thirty at night?”

She scratched her head clearly embarrassed.

“I couldn’t move my last box. Not without vampire strength or magic both of which I lack right now I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you- Are you alright over there?”

Her inquiry was made in absolute seriousness because his arms had unfolded, his eyes widened and jaw dropped. His incredulous stare as his arms hung limply at his sides was causing her to discreetly step away until he found his voice once more.

“You’re apologising to me?”

“Severus what the FUCK? I’ve apologised to you before. Oh Gods… You have BRAIN DAMAGE. From working a with children DON’T you?”

“I…” he shook his head quite SURE he was dreaming. Since he was dreaming he might as well end it on a PLEASANT note.

“You said you couldn’t move a box. Where is it? The faster I help you the faster I can go back to bed.”

She glanced at his bicep (which he NOTICED & was ANNOYED about) before taking his elbow and leading him into the hallway, pointing at the box. It didn’t LOOK as heavy as it turned out to be but he wasn’t going to tell her that as he followed her down the hall to the office that was of COURSE located three abandoned classrooms from his.

He wordlessly set down the box and glanced back at the woman twisting the ends of her naturally silver hair between her fingers as he had a sudden EPIPHANY.

“This isn’t a DREAM, is it?”

“Nope.”

“I JUST moved a box for you in my underwear, thus making myself look like a FOOL for the first time since you’ve seen me in thirteen years as well?”

Keira nodded her head, before patting him on the back.

“Yep. But don’t worry about it. You look like you’ve been through the RINGER  today and I appreciate you moving the box FAR too much to tell anyone about this.”

“Who are you?”

“Well except Vina, she’ll get a KICK outta THIS.”

“.. Fuck you, Black,” he grunted, turning & stalking from the room.

@lestrange-dangereux Wanna get tagged in the next drabble?: {x}