#trick or treaters lords in black is something I didn’t know I needed

[midnightnautilus]

Easy as pumpkin pie!

[lilibetts]

for Tricks and Treats of Riverdale Theme # whichever freaking one involves spooky shit like possession or whatever.

“So, what are you going to be for Halloween, Jughead?”

It was the question Jughead dreaded the most, especially coming from Betty. 

He had just gotten an afterschool job at the Twilight Drive-In and he’d been working as many hours as he possibly could on top of school and babysitting Jellybean to afford costumes for both of them. But then it turned out they were behind on the phone bill, so he spent most of his money to make sure it was paid up through the next month.

“Uh, it’s a surprise. What about you, Betty? Are you going as Nancy Drew again this year?”

She bit her lip and looked down at her shoes. “No, I decided to change things up now that we’re in high school. So I’m going as a medieval princess, kind of like Game of Thrones but not character-specific.”

Jughead was sure her choice had absolutely nothing to do with how last month Archie had announced he was going as a medieval knight. Then their indecisive friend had changed his mind and picked Spider-Man after Veronica Lodge wouldn’t stop waxing poetic about how yummy Tom Holland was.

“Cool. I guess I’ll see you later tonight?”

“You’d better!” Betty chirped, pontytail swishing violently as she skipped away. She didn’t mean that as anything more than her usual staunch commitment to kindness and friendship. And Betty was friendly with virtually everyone. Jughead sighed miserably as he watched her turn off towards her home.

Ah, the pangs of unrequited love.

He had been living with his crush on Betty Cooper for the better part of four months, which was an eternity in the timespan of a fourteen-slash-fifteen year old boy. And he’d keep living with his crush until it granted him mercy and faded. Or he died of old age. 

Whichever came first.

******************************

Betty stood before her bed, staring down at the costume she’d bought when she thought she would complement Archie’s own, and felt monumentally stupid. What if Archie hadn’t changed his mind and she showed up in this medieval princess gown? She’d look obvious. Everyone would be snickering behind her back about Betty Cooper and her pathetic crush on Archie Andrews.

There was no way she could do this.

Pulling down the ladder, Betty headed up into the attic and started going through the boxes, looking for something radically different that she could pull together at the last minute. It was in an old trunk of her mom’s that she found it: a black leather jacket. It was the last thing she expected her mom to have ever owned but her curiosity was dashed by the figurative lightbulb going off above her head. 

“Yes!” 

Back there, on the clothes rack, there’d been...yes, Polly’s Homecoming dress from last year! It was long, just a shade off-white, and perfect.

Crushes made teenage girls do stupid things, that was true, but that only made moments of determined defiance like this all the more sweeter.

**********************************

“That...is not a medieval princess.”

Jughead took in her outfit with raised eyebrows.

“Well spotted, Jughead.” She smiled even as she rolled her eyes at him. “For your information I am Buffy the Vampire Slayer. It’s actually perfect because her name is Buffy Anne and Buffy is a variation of Elizabeth and—”

“—and your middle name is Ann.”

“I didn’t think you remembered my middle name, Juggie.”

“Well I do. Not much escapes this steel trap here.” He rapped his knuckles against his forehead. “Interesting prop you have there, Buffy Cooper.”

She held the wooden stake aloft. “I didn’t have a crossbow lying around, but I did find enough in the garage to fashion myself a stake.” Then she looked him up and down. “You do look rather dashing, Sir Juggie.”

She didn’t mention that his costume had been Archie’s first, one of the many acts of charity from the Andrews family. He was mostly grateful that Betty had changed hers, so that he didn’t seem obviously, pathetically in love with her by matching. 

They were two years too young for couples costumes.

And y’know...not actually together.

************************************

Betty wasn’t entirely aware of it happening. One moment, she was laughing and crossing the street with Jughead, Archie, and Veronica, surrounded by dozens of other trick-or-treaters, the next she was holding her stake at the ready and keeping a careful eye on the four year-old vampire hissing as he ran at a shrieking fairy. 

She managed to fly away and the baby vamp’s mother grabbed ahold of him. “I VANT TO SUCK YOUR BLOOD! I VANT! I VANT!” He screeched as he kicked and struggled in vain to free himself.

A woman stood in the middle of the street, hysterically crying as she cradled a giant halved avocado. 

Demons, small skeletons, and ghouls of all sorts were running after confused and terrified adults, only for their attacks to be thwarted by a legion of mini superheros. A tiny Captain America with a star-spangled tutu flung her shield at a troll and knocked it out cold.

A bear wearing a blue-and-gold letterman jacket charged down the street and the strange boy crouched next to her...who was apparently Spider-Man...leaped away, slinging webs at the houses as he went. The bear continued to chase him and so Buffy shrugged and turned her attention to the zombies lumbering at a group of scared parents.

No sooner had she slammed one down into the concrete than a dashing knight with a black and gold cape and a sword came to her rescue and dispatched the second zombie. The third found himself floating in the air helplessly while a raven-haired girl with glasses, some kind of private-school uniform, and a purple/black tie pointed a wand at it.

Buffy spun her stake with her fingers and addressed the dark-haired knight wearing, of all things, a gray crown beanie. “Thanks. I’m not usually the damsel type, even if I’m frequently distressed. But if knights in shining armor look like you, then feel free to rescue me anytime.”

“You wouldn’t need to ask, my lady.” The knight bowed low. “If I may ask, what are you called?”

“Me? I’m Buffy Summers.”

“I wouldn’t dare be so familiar. I shall call you Lady Elizabeth.”

Buffy shrugged. “I don’t think anyone’s ever called me a lady, but sure, let’s go with that. And what do they call you, Mr. Tall, Dark, and Delicious?”

“Prince Forsythe Pendleton Jones, the third.”

She whistled. “Sounds like a mouthful.”

He sheathed his sword and gave her a wink and a charming smile. Butterflies erupted in Buffy’s stomach, and for once, it wasn’t monster-related cramps.

********************

Prince Forsythe could hardly tear his eyes away from the strange woman who looked like a princess and yet fought the droves of warped creatures at his side like a warrior. She was clever and very forward. 

“You know,” she said after sending a werewolf flying into some nearby bushes. “It’s kind of a thing around these parts for two warriors to share a kiss after emerging victorious in battle.”

Very forward.

After growing up around the palace and the constraints upon behavior between men and women, Forsythe found Buf- Lady Elizabeth refreshing. “That could be arranged, my lady.”

He tapped the pommel of his sword against the mangled gray skull of...hell, he didn’t have the faintest clue what that being was. But small as it was, it kept growling and trying to eat someone’s pet dog.

The witch with the indecent dress length stuck her finger in the air. “Merlin’s Beard, I’ve got it! I know who the Dark Lord is that’s casted a spell on all of us! You two, hold them off while I duel with Mr. Honey. You! Ginger girl with the candelabra? Keep on running across the lawns, lead the rest of them away!” 

Forsythe twisted around and spotted the lady with flowing red locks and an elaborate nightrail, rushing across the green holding a three-pronged candlestick aloft. 

Lady Elizabeth turned back to him. “FYI, I better be the only one you’re My Lady-ing, because I’m definitely a one-prince woman.” She executed a peculiar spinning kick that was all lethal grace and a sinister red-horned devil became entangled in an enormous spider’s web.

“Of course!” He shot back, insulted that she would think so low of him. “I’m no scoundrel!”

When Lady Elizabeth smiled at him then, it was as if the dark clouds that always followed him had parted, and there shone the sun.

They dispatched the last of the hostile creatures, with the assistance of other tiny, brightly colored warriors, and one very small princess with no qualms about using her scepter as a hammer.

The battle finished, Forsythe drove his sword into the ground and curled his arms around his Lady Buffy, dipping her backwards in a hard and exuberant kiss.

*****************************

Buffy curled her arms around her prince in gray beanie and kissed him back just as enthusiastically. Had she ever had a kiss like this before? Maybe it’d just been so long because of the pressures of being a Slayer. It was hard to have a normal dating life when you had to vanquish the forces of evil every other week, and then pass pop quizzes. 

His lips were so soft against hers, and she felt the tingling all the way down to her toes. Betty gasped against Jughead’s lips, her head feeling strangely fuzzy all of the sudden.

She froze.

Jughead’s lips?

Her eyes flew open, only to see equally startled blue ones staring back at her.

They sprang apart, gaping at each other as they tried to make sense of what had just happened. Betty wasn’t sure how to feel about this development—maybe she was still half in love with Archie, but right now she didn’t exactly feel horrified that she’d kissed Jughead Jones and liked it. A lot.

Jughead didn’t look grossed out either.

They were still staring at each other when Veronica came storming out of a yellow craftsman house down the street, fuming. “Honestly, if you’re going to go around calling yourself ‘Mr. Honey’ that’s pretty much a giant advertisement that the one thing that’ll defeat you is summoning a spray of vinegar!”

Archie limped over to them, mask in hand and his costume torn in several spots. An embarrassed Moose Mason, shirtless save for his ripped jeans and letterman jacket, was a few paces behind.

**********************************

Jughead was doing his best to not be too hopeful about the shy smiles Betty was shooting his way even as they were joined by their friends. Even Cheryl, who glared at them as she stomped past.

“Oh, Bettykins,” Veronica murmured, hugging her best friend. “I’ll never make fun of you and your love of sleuthing ever again.”

“Vindication!” Betty playfully hissed out.

Archie groaned. “I don’t know about you guys, but I think I’ve had enough of tricks. Let’s go back to mine and treat ourselves to more greasy pizza and fizzy pop.”

Everyone else readily agreed and they started the trek back to the Andrewses. Jughead fished his cell phone out of his pocket and called his mom to check in on her and Jellybean. Both were fine, but his mom was exhausted from chasing ‘Jelly-cat’ all over the Southside.

One block away from Elm street, Betty dropped behind the other three and linked arms with him. Something fluttered in his chest when she grinned over at him.

“So, Prince Forsythe, any regrets about your choice of costume?”

“You know, all things considered, I have to say none at all, Lady Buffy. And you?”

“I don’t know, I have a feeling I’d still have kicked ass as Princess Elizabeth of House Cooper,” she mused.

“No question about it. Shall we, my badass lady? I’ll share a cheese pizza with you.”

“Have more romantic words ever been spoken?” Betty giggled, her arm tightening in his. “Lead on, my brave prince.” 

All in all, it wasn’t that bad of a Halloween. Everyone was mad at the Daeneryses who had ordered their tiny dragons to burn a bunch of the candy (and some houses). The mayor blamed the incident on hallucinogenic drugs being leaked into the water system. Veronica did not handle the lack of recognition for her efforts well. Archie and Moose winced whenever the word ‘bear’ were so much as mentioned. 

And Betty? Starting the following Monday at school, she started waiting at the corner of Dillon and Main for him, so they could walk the rest of the way together. 

Maybe hope wasn’t just for fools after all, even ones named Jughead Jones.

[cottontail20]

In Happy Times, Our Love Does Grow Chapter 18: A Nice Ring To It

Summary: Vision and Viv discuss Wanda.

Ao3 link:https://archiveofourown.org/works/20601530/chapters/50746873

As it turned out, Wanda and Vision continued to not notice they were holding hands until they ran into Clint(dressed as Legolas from Lord of the Rings) and Natasha(dressed as some sort of spy) with the elder two Barton children two streets later.

Wanda dropped Vision's hand, and Vision tried very hard to ignore the sense of loss he felt when Wanda let go.

"Auntie Nat!" Viv immediately ran over.

"Hey, kiddo" Natasha smiled at Viv. "Got a good haul so far?"

"Uh-huh" Viv nodded happily.

"Where is Laura?" Vision asked Clint.

"She's at home with Nate" Clint explained. "He's still a bit too little for this, some of the the costumes scare him..Yours is pretty good, though, Wanda. What are you supposed to be?"

"Oh, uh.. I'm.."

"She's the Scarlet Witch!" said Viv.

"Who?" Clint looked confused.

"I kind of made her up" Wanda smiled sheepishly.

"Whoa.." Clint gaped. "That's really good for something you just made up.. Don't you think so, Nat?"

"Definitely" Nat smirked. "Hmm.. 'Vision and The Scarlet Witch' has got quite a ring to it."

Wanda and Vision glanced at each other, but broke the eye-contact quickly, blushing.

"It does" Clint agreed. "And you do kinda look like you're a matching pair."

"Uh.. Thank you" said Vision quickly, while Wanda's blush deepened. "Well, we should be getting on.. Vivian!"

"Coming, Daddy!" Viv finished telling Lila which houses had the best stuff, then rushed back to her father's side.

The two groups of trick-or-treaters said a quick goodbye, and continued their separate ways.

Once they were out of hearing range, Natasha whispered something to Clint.

"What do you mean they're not together yet?" He frowned. "You said you were working on it!"

"I am, but I can't be there all the time" Nat huffed. "Besides, you know how clueless Vision is with this type of thing, and it doesn't seem like Wanda is much better.."

Returning home that night after a quick stop back at Vision's to retrieve her clothes (she might have forgotten something, but she could just pick it up next time, right?), Wanda found herself smiling. Vision hadn't corrected Clint, or panicked when he'd said they looked like a matching pair. He'd just said thank you.

And looking back on it, being mistaken for Viv's Mother wasn't quite as scary as she thought it would be.

Maybe.. Maybe the idea of the two of them, of her, and Vision, together.. Maybe it wasn't as crazy as she thought.

When Wanda slept, she was the Scarlet Witch again, flying with The Vision. --

Elsewhere, Vision was having the same wonderful dream. Vision and the Scarlet Witch, flying together.. It did have a very nice ring to it. Of course, being a Father, he had learned to sleep lightly, and found himself woken from his wonderful dream by a pair of familiar small feet padding down the hall, and his bedroom door creaking open. He sat up, smiling softly at the little face in the doorway.

"What are you doing awake, Fata dulce?" The Sokovian term of endearment slipped from Vision's mouth without him really thinking about it, bringing pleasant thoughts of the Sokovian woman who usually said it.

"That's what Wanda calls me" Viv giggled.

"It is" Vision smiled. "But that doesn't answer my question.."

"I couldn't sleep, Daddy. And.. I was worried you might be feeling lonely."

"Oh.. come here" Vision's heart melted, and he pulled back the covers, patting the space beside him that had remained empty for a little over four years, except for the times, like now, when his daughter crept in to sleep beside him. "Sweetheart, you do not have to worry about me being lonely. I have you."

"I know.." Vivian curled into his side. "But I do worry, Daddy.. Sometimes you look sad.. Maybe you need a girlfriend, like how Uncle Scott gots Hope now.."

"Daddy isn't very good at getting Girlfriends.."

"What about Mommy?"

"Well, your Mommy actually got me" Vision explained with a chuckle. "Otherwise, as your Auntie Nat has told me, I am 'hopeless' at talking to women."

"Oh.." Viv paused for a moment, and Vision hoped she was going to drop the subject. Instead her eyes lit up as an idea came to her. "You're not hopeless at talking to Wanda, Daddy. Maybe Wanda could be your girlfriend! I like Wanda, and you like Wanda, and Wanda likes you.."

"I do.. I do like Wanda.. but It's really not that simple.." Vision sighed.

Because the truth was, he was 'hopeless' at talking to Wanda, or at least at talking to her in away that would lead to them being more than friends. He'd wanted to ask her to dinner with him, but he'd been unable to get the words out, and then he had ruined everything by punching a man in the middle of the Food Court. Though Vision had insisted that Wanda hadn't ruined anything, it felt very much to him like he had, and he didn't feel as though he would pluck up the nerve to ask again for quite some time.

His daughter, however, was having none of his excuses.

"Why not? All you got to do is ask her, Daddy."

"Vivian, I really don't think.."

"You can ask her Tomorrow, when we go see her at the store" Viv continued, oblivious to her Father's objections.

"Viv, I.. Wait" He paused, frowning. "I never said we were going to see Wanda Tomorrow. We don't even know if she'll be working."

"Then we can go to her House."

"Wanda lives in an apartment, but we can't show up just so I can ask her to be.."

"It's not just that, Daddy" Said Viv. "Wanda left something behind in the bathroom. We have to go give it back."

"What did she leave behind?" Vision frowned.

Viv hopped out of bed again, rushing to the bathroom, and returning a few moments later clutching a black bra.

"This!"

Oh dear. Vision's cheeks reddened, but he felt immediate sympathy for Wanda, whom he knew would feel quite embarrassed over something like this.

"Alright.. we can return Wanda's.. we can see her Tomorrow."

"And you'll ask her to be your girlfriend?" asked Viv hopefully.

"I.. I will think about it" Vision relented. "Now leave Wanda's.. leave that over there and get back into bed, it's late."

Viv did as she was told, hopping back in beside him, and before too long, they were asleep once more.

Vision was flying, the Scarlet Witch by his side..

[alphacrone]

CHAPTER ONE HERE (AO3)

MY WRITING TAG

“What part of no do you not understand?”

After a very restless night, morning found Jack and Eric arguing in the back office of Easy as Pie. Out front, Tony and Conner—the bakery’s two full-time employees—rang up customers, apparently unable to hear their bosses hissing at each other in angry undertones.

“You’re my sire, Jack, not my father,” Eric said, crossing his arms over his chest. “You can’t just tell me what to do.”

“Thought you respected your elders down south,” Jack snapped. He didn’t pull the age card often—mostly Eric brought it up first, teasing him for being an old man—but when he did, it was absolutely infuriating.

“I respect the ones who deserve it,” Eric retorted. “I’m not a child, Jack.”

“You’re certainly acting like one,” Jack said.

“And you’re acting like a spoiled prince .”

There was a long, tense moment, and then Jack deflated. “Okay,” he said, holding up his hands. “Okay. Please do not follow the hunters tonight.”

“Why?” Eric demanded. “We need intel.”

“Then I will get it,” Jack said. “ You will stay out of harm’s way. Remember your promise?”

“Right, right, you die, I flee,” Eric said, trying to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. “I made no promise about not trying to figure out who’s murdering our neighbors.”

“Mr. Bitty?”

Jack and Eric looked up in tandem to find Tony poking his head into the office. He looked back and forth between them, just now seeming to realize he’d interrupted a fight.

“What is it, Tony?” Eric asked, smiling pleasantly at the boy. This didn’t seem to instill any confidence in the cashier, and he cast one last nervous look at Jack before speaking again.

“Um, there’s a guy here for you,” he said tentatively, as if this stranger were the root of the argument he’d happened upon. “Says he wants PSL cookies, but only if he knows you made ‘em.”

Eric was torn between giggling in delight and cowering under Jack’s glare. “Thank you, hun. Let him know I’ll be out in a hot second.”

Tony nodded and disappeared quickly. The moment the door closed behind him, Jack rounded on Eric.

“Absolutely not-”

“Jack, it’s not-”

“-a hunter , for fuck’s sake-”

“-would you rather I be rude to the man who wants us dead-”

They both paused, staring angrily at each other. Eric sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I’m not trying to tempt fate, Jack, nor am I trying to date a hunter. I’m not the idiot you seem to think I am.”

“I don’t think you’re an idiot,” Jack said softly. “I just...worry.”

“Obviously,” Eric chirped, allowing himself a small smile. “Jack, I promise not to get us killed by selling cookies to a stranger.”

“I know,” Jack said, huffing with laughter. “Just… be careful.”

“You, too,” Eric said. “You know I worry about you as often as you worry about me.”

Jack smiled sadly and leaned forward to kiss the top of Eric’s head. “I know. Now go out there and sell some cookies.”

“Stop telling me what to do ,” Eric chirped as he left. Jack’s laughter followed him to the front room, where Justin stood awkwardly at the counter.

“Hey,” he said, smiling as Eric approached. “I hope I’m not pulling you away from something, I just wanted to- um…”

Eric’s heart skipped a beat. “Oh, ha, no, just arguing with Jack about, uh, next week’s special. Since it’s getting close to Halloween, I wanted to go all-out with some really silly recipes—‘poisoned’ candy apples, white chocolate strawberry ‘ghosts,’ ‘bloody’ cheesecake—but Jack says they’re too expensive for such speciality items.”

Justin looked properly offended on Eric’s behalf, and Eric wished he’d been there when Eric and Jack had actually had that argument a week ago. “Those sound so cool, though!”

“ Thank you ,” Eric said, hands on his hips. “I think the kids of the neighborhood would really like it!”

“Does the bakery get a lot of trick-or-treaters?” Justin asked, and Eric ignored the curious stares he was getting from Tony and Conner. Though they’d never been explicitly told that Jack and Eric were an item, Eric assumed most people in town were under that impression.

“Oh, yes,” Eric said, pointing down at the tray of PSL cookies displayed prominently in the glass case. Justin nodded eagerly. “A lot of parents take the real young ones around to the shops before dark, so they can still have fun but not be out past their bedtimes with the big kids.” He paused, biting his lip, and added, “There are so many fat babies in pumpkin suits that come in every year—I live for it, honestly.”

Justin laughed brightly, and Eric felt an ache in his chest at how handsome his smile was, how open and happy.

“How many d’you want?” He asked, grateful Justin was the only customer in line.

Justin scoffed. “I was being serious when I said I needed, like, a dozen.”

Eric rolled his eyes fondly and grabbed the cup of broken cookie pieces he used for samples. “Might wanna try ‘em first, huh?”

Justin gave a dramatically put-upon sigh and popped the cookie chunk into his mouth. Immediately, his eyes widened, and he gave Eric a wide, cookie-stuffed grin.

“I changed my mind,” he said, slamming a hand down on the counter. “I need two dozen of these immediately .”

Eric laughed and shook his head in disbelief. “And how on Earth would you manage to eat twenty four of these before they go stale?”

“Eric,” he said, his smile too charming to be real. “You underestimate me.”

And Lord help him, Eric laughed at that like the flirt he was. Now everyone’s gonna think you’re a cheater, he thought glumly. A flirt and a cheat, that Eric Bittle .

“Well, if you insist,” he said, pulling out one of his orange (for Halloween!) bakery boxes and counting out two dozen cookies. “So, I know I’m not supposed to ask about top-secret FBI junk…”

Justin sighed heavily. “Investigation isn’t going great. Hols- Adam’s upset. He, uh, thought we would’ve caught the perps by now.”

Eric laughed nervously, neatly closing the box and tying it off with a black ribbon. “He’s that confident in y’all’s abilities?”

“Well, we are the best,” Justin joked. “But it’s...probably more personal than is wise.”

The fact that Justin was telling him all this led Eric to hope that he and Jack were not suspects, especially not after all the holy water he’d had to drink the night before. “What was it you were calling him just now? Holst?”

“Holster,” Justin said with an easy grin. “It’s a dumb nickname from our hockey days.”

“It’s cute,” Eric said, handing over the box. When Justin reached for his wallet, Eric waved him off. “On the house. I’m serious.”

“Dude,” Justin said, brow furrowed. “You can’t just give me all these cookies for free. Won’t Jack-?”

“Oh, but it’s not for free,” Eric said, chiding himself for the way he leaned closer, elbows propped on the counter. “In exchange, I wanna know your embarrassing nickname.”

Justin laughed, throwing his head back. “Okay, okay. But only because your friends call you Bitty.” He paused, looking around, and leaned in to whisper, “Ransom.”

Eric grinned. “Ransom and Holster. That’s adorable.”

Justin shrugged, straightening with a charming grin. “We try.”

“Well, go on and be a hero,” Eric said, shooing Justin away a little reluctantly. “Don’t let me keep you from solving crimes, Ransom .”

Ransom winked at him and left, box tucked under his arm. Eric sighed and headed back into the kitchen, tugging at the collar of his shirt. It certainly had gotten hotter in here, hadn’t it?

“Ransom and Holster,” he murmured again as he returned to the rows of cookie dough that needed cutting—all destined to be shaped like pumpkins and bats and ghosts. He laughed and grabbed his box of cutters. It was going to be a long morning, with the image of Ransom’s smile in his mind.  “Cute.”

“RANSOM AND HOLSTER?!”

It was only noon and Eric was already tired of Jack yelling at him. “Yes, it’s their hockey nicknames or something. What’s wrong?”

Jack looked like he was dangerously close to punching a wall. (Or through one, if Eric were being realistic.) “Ransom and Holster are two of the most dangerous hunters in the country,” he growled. “They nearly got Parse.”

Eric’s eyes widened. He’d never met Kent Parson, but he’d heard of the night Jack had almost died to save Parson’s life from the clutches of hunters. That had been the night he’d given up human blood forever—with the exception of the encounter in Atlanta…

“It’s them ?” Eric hissed, hand flying to his mouth. “You didn’t recognize them?”

“It was dark,” Jack defended, running a hand through his hair. “And everything happened so fast.”

“You don’t think they recognize you, do you?”

Jack shrugged. “Holster might. He’s been watching me.”

Eric let out a distressed huff, slumping against the wall. He’d been so sure, with the way Ransom had been acting...but now the smiles and flirtation seemed to make sense. Why else would someone like him flirt with someone like Eric? “Do we leave, then?”

Jack shook his head. “They’ll chase us if we leave now. But I’m going to call George, just in case. Make preparations for you.”

“Me?” Eric hated when Jack got this way, more martyr than vampire. “Jack, you’re coming with me.”

“You know I’m not,” Jack said simply. “If they come for us, they come for me . You’re the one who will make it out of this alive.” The you’re the one who deserves to live was unspoken, but still hurt Eric’s heart the way it always did when Jack spoke like that.

“I’m not having this argument again,” Eric said wearily. “Are you following them tonight?”

“Yeah,” Jack said. “I’ve asked the others to come hang out with you while I’m gone.”

“You mean babysit me,” Eric said sharply. “Make sure I don’t come after you.”

Jack shrugged. “You said it, not me.”

“I hope it’s really boring,” Eric said petulantly. “I hope they bore you to death.”

Jack laughed and ruffled Eric’s hair. “Thanks. Now get back to work.”

“You’re the worst business partner ever,” Eric said as Jack left the kitchen. “I’m plotting a coup with Tony and Conner! It’ll be my bakery soon enough!”

But Jack was gone and Eric was left with his worry, so he did what he had to; he baked.

The get-together that night was low-key and almost boring. Shitty—whose bracelet was set to THEY/THEM—napped on Eric’s couch while Lardo did work for a new client on her laptop. Chowder was sprawled across an armchair, texting Caitlin with a goofy grin.

“Anyone need anything?” Eric asked, pacing the room nervously. “Snacks? Drinks?”

“Chill, Bits,” Lardo said without looking up. “He’s fine. Sit down.”

“It’s been hours,” Eric said, wringing his hands together. “What if-?”

Before he could finish his thought, there was a knock at the door. Eric and Lardo exchanged a look, and very cautiously Eric moved to look through the peephole. Maybe Jack lost his keys. Maybe it was one of the neighbors, asking for a cup of sugar. Maybe-

Eric threw the door open to find Ransom slumped on the floor, covered in blood and clutching his stomach. How he’d gotten to the apartment, up the stairs-

“Help,” Ransom whispered, looking up at Eric with pained, unfocused eyes.

“Hang on, hun,” Eric breathed. “We’ll call an ambulance-”

“ No ,” Ransom choked out, reaching for Eric. “No hospitals. No police.”

Hunters, it appeared, were as stupid as vampires. “You need a doctor.”

“Please,” Ransom said. “No doctors.”

“Ransom,” Eric said, cupping his face with his hands. “Justin. Where’s Adam? What happened?”

“I think…” Ransom grabbed at Eric’s arm. “I think they got him.”

Eric turned to look at the others, all of whom now stood behind him, and the dark look in Lardo’s eyes confirmed what he’d feared. If they’d gotten Holster, chances were they’d gotten Jack, too.

Ransom slumped in his arms and the smell of him—of his blood—was overwhelming. Eric had never longed to feed so intensely, but he shook himself out of it. “Take him inside,” he whispered, nodding to Chowder. “Patch him up as best you can. I know-” He continued as Chowder tried to protest. “You haven’t refreshed on your training, I know. But you were a paramedic for years, Chris. I believe in you.”

“If Chow can’t do it, we’re taking him to the hospital,” Lardo said.

“I know.” Shitty and Chowder were carefully carrying Ransom into the apartment. “I have to go find them.”

“I know,” she said, and pulled him into a tight, quick hug. “Go get those knuckleheads back.”

Eric nodded, casting one last glance at Ransom before turning on his heels and sprinting downstairs, out into the night.