An awful noise filled the air

Emory & Micah & Tobias

He can handle this, he wants to handle it, but it’s all shiny and new and he has to deal with all the butterflies in his gut first. 

“New Orleans might be too touristy. Colorado is nice.” Micah offered, “They’ve got mountains, loads of small towns.” He’d been to Aspen once on a hunt and passed through a few places along the way.  “She told me she was in love once, and that if she wasn’t immortal it might have been enough for her to walk away from this life forever. Maybe, I don’t know. Maybe all this is a sign.” Ptolema had said that one part of him would have to die, and she was right. Micah would have to make a choice eventually. “I always thought I’d die young, or some hunter’s death in a blaze of fire.” But the more he thought about it, the more the thought of a quiet place together on the outskirts of some small town with Emory sounded nice. Maybe there’d be a rocking chair, few dogs and a few cats to torment them. Micah would talk about the glory days. It sounded nice. “I want to be with you, for real. Forever. If I’m gonna die I want it to be when we’re ninety-five and surrounded by too much shit we’ve collected over the years.” 

-

He could see it, he’d thought about it back in New York, after Micah had left. It’d been apparent from the break up that the shifter didn’t intend to slow down by any means, that he was willing to leave him behind. He’d been so angry at the time, but he’d been worried, too. He’d seen what hunting could do to people who couldn’t shift, Micah was far more competent at what he did than anyone in the damn woods. And yet he knew him, knew that he was likely to keep going until he dropped, he’d witnessed that this year. He was lucky to have the man beside him period and just the thought alone has him tracing patterns idly on his back as if to ground him. Emory remembered sitting in his apartment and thinking that there was a chance Micah’s lifestyle would kill him. It was something he was passionate about, hunting, something he took seriously, something he was good at. The idea of him just throwing it all away didn’t quite sit right with him, he knew it was a part of Micah. If he really wanted to give it all up, he’d support him, hell if he wanted to throw himself deeper into it, he might hesitate at first, but he knew he could trust the man he loved. He thinks they’ve both wizened up quite a bit since that day Micah had left New York.

“Isn’t Brokeback Mountain set in Nebraska or something?” He asks, corners of his lips quirking up into a smirk. It’s bizarre that they’ve come that far, from that fight in that apartment to this, to being huddled under flannel with Stevie playing in the background. “I’m happy anywhere I’m with you.” The playfulness falls away to earnesty and he tips his head to press his lips to the side of the shifter’s face. He lingers there, noses his way along Micah’s jaw. “I mean it.”

Phobetos watched, an architect of this particular design, pleased with their machinations as smoke stung at eyes that were closed in life but open in this dreamscape— they filled a nose with smoke, made it oppressive and hot, allowing the cool air of evening to feel like a shock of ice water. Cold, too cold, the spirit weaved invisibly; darkening the sky and blotting out the stars, leaving only the moon and its fullness to cast blue light over the forest.

There is a boy in the woods and he is being tormented: his cries fill the air and the path towards him is filled with brambles and beasts that linger in shadows that are all too eager to bite at bare ankles. He is named after a bird, Phobetos realized, and they painted long drag marks and blood that pooled darkly. Werewolves, it is the spirit’s crescendo, a piercing howl that shatters through everything else. They’ve made a feast out of boy-meat, they’ve bared their teeth and they’ve hardly whetted their appetites. The spirit sat back, watching now to see what it was that their charge would do. Hardly a beat passed and it was with the borrowed voice of the man from the cabin that they spoke, a whispered sneer. “Will you let him die?”

It’s not winter, but the air around him feels ice cold compared to the sweltering heat at his back and Emory doesn’t have much a choice but to walk forward, to just keep moving. Branches and brambles block the path, but there’s only one, there is only forward and it’s almost like the nature around him is trying to hold him back. Every step feels ominous, the ground is hard beneath his feet and yet he feels like he might as well be stepping on glass panels.

The elements are one thing, the noises are another and he knows those sounds, he used to lay awake at night staring at his ceiling and wonder how close they were. Or if they were ever even really there at all. He swears he hears panting, breath of someone else running, a howl, a cry, and Emory doesn’t know if it’s himself or one of his brothers, but he does hear the snarls of the wolves, the morbid tear of what he thinks is flesh from bone. And when he comes upon the scene a scream is caught in his throat at the sight of blood dripping from snapping jaws.

It’s not real, it’s not real, it’s not-

Emory snaps awake in the library, bangs stuck to his forehead with sweat, breath coming in pants as if he’s really been running. “It’s not real.” He whispers to himself, standing up so quickly that the chair he’d been sitting in clatters to the floor. The library goers around him look to the noise and he sheepishly nabs everything on the desk and shoves it unceremoniously into his bag. It’s not real. Then why did it feel like it was?

    Toby paused for a moment to think about it. Was he scared? Yes, he was, all the time. Mostly because he was afraid to lose Emory and Micah, afraid that they would get hurt or worse. But out here one could almost forget why they even were here in the first place. “Yeah, I am,” he admitted. He wondered if it was true, that Emory wasn’t afraid. How could he not be? He was in the middle of a mess he was not responsible for, his life threatened although he hadn’t done anything wrong. “I’m happy with my life now. Truly happy, for the first time. And I’m scared of that being ruined in some way.” The vampire trailed off, a slight frown appearing on his forehead. Of course he had noticed how Emory didn’t seem to sleep as much as a human should — he could tell the difference by his breathing and the beating of his heart, even when his eyes were closed. And since Micah, he had sworn himself to not just sit around and watch anymore. “Don’t you think we should do something about that? Your sleep issues, I mean.”

“It feels like we can never get too comfortable, doesn’t it?” He’s joking, just a little bit. It does feel that way. Things had just settled after Tobias dying and then there’d been Micah’s hospital stint. They’d just sort of figured the loft stuff out and now there was some vampire out for them solely because they were associated with someone. So far, his track record with vampires in Corinth has been decent outside of a couple of encounters, and even then, he doesn’t think either vampire meant him harm. But the sounds of this one that’s after them, it does make him worry a bit, not every vampire is going to be as sweet as the one beside him. “We’ll get through it. Always do.” Emory doesn’t doubt that and he reaches to hook an arm around Tobias’s as he leans against him. He wishes they could have some kind of bonfire going without the smoke giving them away. “I um, I might have a kind of weird idea for that, I think?” And he’s going to use the lack of sleep to be the reason the idea comes out of his mouth at all. “I was going to try some kind of magical tea, it’s got to exist, right? But if that doesn’t work I thought that...Like you can compel people, right? To do things?” It’s an almost sheepish question as he sits up to be able to look at the other properly.

This wasn’t about their current predicament, or even their last. This was about… Well both of those things, everything that had happened before, and likely everything that would happen in the future. Micah had been fine when it was just his own skin he had to worry about, there was a reason snakes shed it, they outgrew themselves over and over again - but Emory. Tobias. It wasn’t just Micah anymore, he couldn’t just push all his thoughts aside and focus on the job because they made up so much of him now. “Yeah, I guess. You’re probably right, not much was can do about it anyways. Least we’re all safe out here.” The shifter offered in lieu of risking getting any deeper on the subject, Micah couldn’t have it both ways: a normal life with the two of them and the life of a hunter. That was the truth that hung like a sword over his head, eventually he was going to have to make a choice.  His own skin, or theirs. “Still,” Micah sighed, changing the subject a bit. “this has gotta be a bit weird for you. Right?” The shifter asked instead as he gestured a bit with his mug before he took another warm sip. 

-

“Mikes, everything is weird for me all of the time.” There’s some humor to it and the smile he gives the shifter is genuine. It’s never not going to be a little weird, his life. It can be frustrating, he wishes he knew what the hell everyone around him was. He wishes he wasn’t so powerless, or that he could do more, but ultimately, he doesn’t regret it. Emory takes a slow sip from his coffee cup and tries not to just stare at Micah before him, all shirtless and seeming a bit at home amongst the background of the forest. “I’m trying not to think on it too much.” He admits, voice quieter, lips pursing. Because if he thinks about the idea of some vampire out to get Tobias, out to get everyone who he cares about, he might actually book plane tickets for New York for all of them.

     Toby didn’t think he could be relaxed out here, not when he first realized that they had to hide away, at least for a little while. He thought he would constantly be worried – and he was – but he also thought he’d miss his shifts, going to bars, action and parties. But he didn’t. Weirdly enough, he liked the quiet of the woods. He liked playing his guitar out here, or listening to his boyfriends’ breathing in the darkness of their bedroom. The vampire didn’t think anyone else would say he’d be relaxed out here, but Emory had come to know him better than most. Maybe even better than he knew himself. “You’re right. I like it out here. I like the quiet. That there’s no expectations.” Just them. That was a nice thought. “I just wish the circumstances were different.”

“Are you scared?” It’s out of his mouth before he can really think about it and he finds himself straightening up a bit and shooting the vampire an apologetic smile. It could be a rhetorical question, Emory thinks they’re all a little scared. There were a lot of vampires in Corinth, he knew that much. Enough to warrant a bar for just them. It wasn’t the first kind of establishment he’d seen, New York had plenty of them, thing was that the bay was smaller. He’d probably run into several vampires since he’d been to Corinth and he wouldn’t even have known. “I don’t think I am.” He tries to take so much of the attention off of Tobias. And maybe it’d ease him a little, to know that he wasn’t spending every waking moment panicking. “Like, I lay awake at night and worry, but I think that’s just me all the time.” The chuckle he lets out is at his own expense. “It’s just sort of life at this point. Dealing with all the supernatural stuff.”

“The loft takes full offence,” Micah joked, he hadn’t gotten rid of it yet. He figured if anyone came looking for them there it was better if it still looked inhabited. “this place is only temporary but I mean, when things calm down we can always. I don’t know, find something kinda similar, maybe nicer. You know, electricity, water that doesn’t come from a well. Would be nice.” The shifter would be the first to admit he liked the comforts of the city, he’d only ever grown up in cities, New York predominantly. He was used to sketchy sleeping conditions from weeks or months spent on a hunt, but there was always a big comfy bed to go home to eventually. “I’m-” he ran a tired hand through his hair as the snake tattoo disappeared in dark curls, he looked from the stack of logs to Emory. “kind of fucked up I guess. I keep thinking about what Ptolema said to me, that I should quit. Live a regular life with you and Toby. I just… I wish that I could. All this vampire shit, having to live out here, constantly worried about you two. About myself. I want to be normal but I just, I don’t know. I can’t.” He wasn’t really looking for sympathy or anything more than someone to vent to, “All this-” Micah gestured to the safe house, the woods around them, “I wish this wasn’t our life.” 

-

“Fully functional cabin, out of the way of civilization.” The walk out of the woods was a bit….He made it pretty quick out of there if he needed to head back into town sometimes. It varied, how he felt about being there. When he was alone, it almost felt like he needed to be tethered back to reality, it was easy to get lost mentally. “You’re doing great. As good as you can, given the circumstances.” Emory admits quietly, assuming the stance of putting one hand in his jacket pocket and the other cradling his coffee against his stomach. Rolling his shoulders back, he takes a glance around them as he raises his mug to his lips. This was all a lot, and he imagined it came at the most inopportune time for the shifter, he’d just had a major life event, he’d just been getting everything back on track. It was definitely a bump in the road, a loss of control, and he couldn't say he hadn’t been terrified about both boyfriends mental health with this new event. “It’s life, we’re dealing.” He offers a small smile as he lowers his coffee, raises his shoulders. He thinks they both feel bad, Micah and Tobias, like they’re dragging him into all of the supernatural shenanigans. Truth of the matter was that Emory didn’t think he had even fully processed what was going on. “It’ll pass and we’ll go from there. It’s all just,” He lets out a soft huff, unsure if he’s talking to Micah or himself. “One day at time right now, you know?”

     When Emory leaned against him, Toby draped an arm across his boyfriend’s shoulders, tugging him a little bit closer. The vampire pressed a kiss to the human’s head, his eyes closing for a moment as he simply reveled in the closeness of their bodies, the warmth of Emory’s form. “I know,” he whispered, remembering what the other had told him about his home life. Toby still hadn’t told the two much about his own family, but he could certainly relate. “Maybe we can still go someday.” If that was what Emory wanted, Toby would do it. But the vampire wanted to lighten the mood a little, and put a grin on his lips as he nudged his boyfriend slightly. “You think I would like somewhere quieter? Why’s that?”

He takes it back, he loves it out there, he loves this moment in particular. It feels incredibly sappy, to essentially scoot closer to Tobias and lean his head against his shoulder. He wraps an arm around the other’s waist and they’re just there together in the forest, the sounds of it around them. “You seem more relaxed out here.” Emory admits softly, eyes slipping closed. He sort of thought Micah was, too. Despite the situation, they were out there all together, in a little place where he could pretend time didn’t exist. “It’s weird, but it almost feels like it’s some kind of dream. Like the rest of the world doesn’t exist, it’s just us.” Now if only he could actually get some sleep, the whole place would be perfect. “I think we all need that right now.” 

Miguel snorted, wondering what it was that had given him away. Perhaps it was simply too early in the night to be making moves as he was— stealing a whole bottle was usually saved for the end of the evening, when the lights had dimmed impossibly dark and everyone was too tired to notice one or two missing from the shelves. He loosened his grip and wiggled his fingers, showing the bartender that he wasn’t planning on yanking it back for himself. The human seemed to have an iron grasp and the werewolf gestured down to his hand for him to be freed. “On a Tuesday night? Absolutely not.” Still, the evening was young and he didn’t have somewhere to sleep yet— he leaned against the bar, passing off a saccharine expression. “Want to keep me busy? You know what they say about idle hands.”

-

Emory wonders if it’s appropriate to just frantically gesture to Mateo in the booth or maybe get Tobias to just toss the guy out himself. And then that too familiar feeling creeps in, the one that makes him feel helpless. This is something outside of the supernatural shenanigans that have begun to plague his life, it’s his job. It’s the most normal part of his life, he doesn’t need someone else to handle it. “If I give you a glass of whatever’s on tap, are you going to sit your ass down and behave yourself?” It’s a little sarcastic as he (reluctantly) lets go of the man’s wrist. He hates to reward shitty behavior, but he’d rather lose a glass instead of a bottle that he’d just opened.

Back in New York they’d talked about it a lot- going back to the woods that Emory hailed from. There was a fondness in the way that the human would recount his favourite trails and sights, tricked he’d learned from a family of hunters that had been in the region for generations. There was a sadness too, and it’s this sort of ruminating on the past that Micah is worried about when it comes to Emory. His boyfriend had been off lately, tired, restless… Maybe even unhappy. With everything that was going on Micah was scared shitless, anyone sane would be. But not for himself, for Em, for Toby. He just wanted them to be happy, but maybe Ptolema was right. So long as he was in this life they could never really be what any of them wanted. Manual labor is an apt distraction from the shifter’s rampant thoughts, so he took to further reinforcing and already ample wood supply. The cabin didn’t have any heat besides a wood stove, cozy, but winter was close and they needed a lot more than what they had stockpiled already. “Morning.” Micah greeted, all things aside, seeing Emory every day was something he’d gotten used to easily enough. “Figured I’d get an early start on the day.” The shifter buried his axe in the stump and sauntered with an easy, languid stride towards Emory, relieving him of one of his coffees before he leaned in and pressed their lips together. Quick and familiar. “How’d you sleep?”

-

“It was okay. Deeper than usual out here, I think.” It’s the strangest phenomena, he isn’t about to question it. “It’s um,” Emory thinks he’s still short circuiting a little from the kiss, the atmosphere around them. “It’s nice out here, I think. Reminds me of the cabin back home.” Said cabin that has plagued him even before the nightmares. They’d gotten worse, before they’d been memories somewhat twisted, but now they were something else entirely, borderline monstrous. He looks from Micah to the forest floor and he can’t help but feel that maybe the shifter is worried. He can’t blame him for that, they all knew he wasn’t sleeping that well. “I think I sort of like it? Out here. No offense to the loft.” The smile he offers is small, soft, and then it’s gone and he’s reaching for his coffee cup back, leaving Micah with his own. “How about you?” While he appreciated the view, he didn’t think someone getting up so early to chop wood was normal behavior.

     The woods were peaceful. That much Toby had to admit – it wasn’t so bad. Maybe it would be even better if the guilt of being the one who brought them here wasn’t gnawing at him from the inside. But he was trying not to let it show, as he had done with so many other things in the past. He was good at that, putting on a front that was not bothered. “It’s not so bad,” he agreed, a soft smile on his lips as he glanced over at Emory. He extended a hand to brush it through the human’s hair, then he nodded. “Fall in Greece is not exactly what it is in colder places.” Toby had always enjoyed the places that were a bit warmer, though he couldn’t even say why. But there was longing here, longing to see other places together, to not be hauled up in this house, and so he nodded once more. “Me too. We’ll visit it together, I promise. As soon as this is over maybe. We won’t be out here for that long.” At least he hoped. “We could fly to New York for some Christmas Shopping or something.”

“We could.” It all feels like a fever dream at this point, the idea of the future when things felt...Maybe a bit tentative at the moment. He still felt awful, there was this lingering feeling of helplessness that just didn’t quite go away. It felt….Maybe placated for the moment, like the safehouse was somewhere stuck in time. It wasn’t either boyfriend’s fault, they were doing their best, they loved him, he didn’t doubt that for a second. Emory smiles over at Tobias anyways, leans against him as he looks out at the trees. “I wish I could take you guys home with me. If home wasn’t where it was.” The cabin that now plagued his dreams, he still wanted them to hang around there maybe. Maybe it’d help, maybe it’d replace the bad memories. “I think you’d like somewhere quieter.”

      Toby felt incredibly bad about putting his boyfriends through all of this. It wasn’t even his fault. Or sort of, because he knew the wrong people apparently. He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head slightly. “Nothing about this is okay,” he said simply, lips pressing together as he looked over at Micah. Emory was taking this a little too well, or at least he pretended to. Their dreams had been shattered over night, and he wished he could do something about it. But other than Micah’s safe house, they were at a loss. Except waiting nothing else seemed to be a good idea. “I’m sorry you’re being pulled into this. But Micah is right, we need to lay low until this is smoothed over somehow.” ( @micahxwright​ )

-

“It could be a while.” Things like this didn’t just pass overnight, “Just grab some necessities and I can come back for whatever else we need.” Micah didn’t care about assuming the risk, he’d set up everything, take care of everything, whatever it took to keep the two guys that he loved safe. “We’ll figure out what to do next from there.” The shifter offered, he was glad that Emory didn’t seem to be in a mood to put up a fight, and at least Micah and Toby had agreed that the best course of action right now was just to get the fuck out of this apartment. At least for now. It hurt that their plans were going to have to be put on hold, but just for now. @emoryhart​

-

“Okay.” It feels like it’s all he can say despite the thousands of thoughts going through his head. What did this mean for them in Corinth? He didn’t have the luck of a phoenix on his side, at least not like he used to with Rowan in his direct vicinity like she used to be. Emory should feel scared for himself, and yet he’s grabbing clothes and shoving them in his duffle bag and he’s thinking of both partners instead. He pauses, flannel shirt in hand, and he allows himself to just feel the situation, the panic, and he draws a shaky breath. “Okay. It’s okay.” He steps towards Tobias, presses his lips to his jaw, as if such a thing is going to ease him in any way. “I’ll take off work, I’ll pretend it’s a vacation or something.” It’s autopilot, he knows he’s going to freak out eventually, but he can wait until they’re way out in the wilderness or shoved in a villa somewhere on the outskirts of town. @tobiasprice​

“You’re a man,” Sydney retorted, “Every day is a hot girl day for you. We have to work hard for these things, I’ve spent all season mentally and physically preparing to emerge specifically for this moment. The shops started putting out pumpkin spice and I make a noise not dissimilar to those velociraptors from Jurassic Park. I love you,” she reached for his hand now to make her point. “But this is not for you.” Syd rolled her eyes, at the words draining more of her drink. “Everyone tells me not to go into the woods, as if that was ever a place I wanted to go in the first place. You know what they say about all these warnings, they just make you wanna leap. Eve and the apple style, I’m about to go make a deal with some twisty little snake.”

Emory is too busy trying not to spill his beer, he’s holding in the laughter that tries to escape him the moment she mentions making raptor noises. Or maybe it’s the fact that he can picture such a thing so perfectly. He swallows the sip of beer he’d taken before he manages a chuckle. She has a fair point though, it’s how rebellion started, everyone telling you not to do one thing. “I guess I’m not really the right person to give that advice. I’ve been hearing it my whole life and my ass is still walking through the woods in the evenings. Clears my head.” His shoulders raise in a shrug and as much as he’d like to think he’s got a bit of an advantage, ultimately, he does not. Knowing what is out there is hardly part of the battle when there’s little he could really do.