the gremlin gifmaker

Manon thinks he must be tired after she found him awake late last night, staring at the ceiling for Satan knows how long, only relaxing when she gently turned his head and kissed him back to sleep. But he seems to be in a decent mood, smiles when she fiddles with his fingers, toys with the ring.

It is still early when they park the car but they find a café that is just opening up, a kind young waiter serving them two much needed cappuccini and a small breakfast on a quaint little terrace. Manon is nibbling a chocolate-filled cornetto, watching some birds as they pick at the cracks between stone tiles, skittering, glancing around in rapid staccato movements.

“You are quiet,” Secondo observes and when she looks at him he’s taking off his sunglasses, revealing his two-coloured eyes with notable dark circles underneath.

“You’re not very talkative either,” she says, reaching out to run her knuckles over his cheek.

“Am I ever?”

“Sometimes.”

He smiles, gently takes her hand and presses a lingering kiss to her palm. “You are tired?”

“Mhm. I think so are you. You were up pretty late.”

“I could not sleep.”

“What kept you up?”

Secondo places her hand back on his cheek, palm against the freshly shaved skin. He looks at her for a moment, then shakes his head in a sort of half-shrug. “You, always.”

She smiles, her thumb stroking over the soft skin underneath his eye. “Did I snore?”

He huffs a laugh. “No.”

Manon pulls her hand away when he doesn’t elaborate, though he catches it and lets their joined hands rest in his lap. She wants to ask, at least get a vague sense if it is a good or a bad thing, but he is once again not very forthcoming with his feelings. He is empathetic enough to sense her withdrawing, though, leans in to kiss her, coffee breath and the taste of pastry on his tongue.

The waiter hides a grin when he brings them the bill and two more coffees to go. They walk through slowly rousing alleyways, hand in hand, on his doing, immediately fiddling for her whenever they somehow slip apart. He’s surprisingly sentimental like this, Manon finds. Whenever he can’t quite voice his thoughts he’ll make up for it in gestures, almost as if to make amends. Or perhaps it is wishful thinking on her part, that any of this means more than he lets on.

They’re not really aiming for anything but when they reach the town square they stumble upon a couple of vendors that set up for the day’s market. They’ll be accommodated at their next stop in Modena but Manon can’t help eyeing the bright red strawberries, fat and sun-soaked.

“Do you want to look around?” Secondo asks.

“If we’re not in a hurry.”

He presses a kiss to her hair and leaves her at the stall. Before she can ask where he’s going the vendor, an elderly man with a bushy grey moustache, strikes up a conversation in rapid Italian and she does her best to keep up when he tells her about his orchard just outside of town. When he notices her accent he slows down, kindly asking about her and what brings her to Italy. By the end, after reassuring her that her Italian is perfectly understandable, he offers a large basket of strawberries for half the price. She moves to retrieve her wallet but in that moment Secondo is back by her side, two large sunflowers under his arm, and quickly hands over a banknote.

“Ah, signore, il suo amore é una bellissima signorina,” the man says as he pockets the money. “Ancora più dei girasoli.”

“Non posso contestarlo,” Secondo says with a polite smile. “Grazie, signore.”

Manon takes the flimsy basket, filled to the brim with vivid red strawberries, and Secondo reaches for her hand again, not so subtly dragging her off.

“I didn’t know you like sunflowers,” she remarks.

“They are for you.” He glances at her, stopping in the shade of a building. “No more bleak guest rooms, hm?”

“They are lovely,” she says, not bringing up the subject of money again. He enjoys buying her things, she struggles to accept gifts, but when she looks at him, the sunflowers as big as his head, she feels quite unburdened by it. “Thank you, Secondo.”

He lifts her hand, places it flat on his chest. “No arguing today?”

“No.”

Manon smiles, uses the chance to push his sunglasses up his forehead. His sensitive white eye blinks before it adjusts but by then she’s already tiptoed up to kiss him. His free arm snakes around her, pulling her as close as possible with the strawberry basket between them.

“What is a flower compared to this smile,” he whispers, kissing her again, a little deeper than is appropriate in public. The glasses sit crooked on his head when Manon pulls away and she adjusts them back over his eyes, letting their hands join and dangle between their bodies once again.

They have no more than forty minutes left until they reach the abbey outside of Modena but Secondo takes his time, going slower than usual, and the landscape around them is worth the delay. Summer is still in full swing and they pass vineyards, orchards and open fields. Modena appears on the horizon but they’re not heading straight into the city, instead leaving the road to continue on a gravelly path that leads through the abbey’s own beautiful vine-covered hills.

The building is an old converted cloister, built in the typical medieval styles of the Emilia-Romagna region that Manon has already seen, red-tiled roofs and light stone walls, only this specific complex must have been modernised not too long ago. Once they have escaped the welcome committee of Siblings that immediately start fawning over the former Papa they are ushered into a fairly modern building that seems to house a handful of offices. Through another hallway they are entering a residential area and then the Sister leading them shows them into their room.

“His Dark Excellency said that you requested to share a room during your residency,” she says, almost as if she’s expecting him to contradict. “Is that… correct?”

“Yes, as long as we have a proper workstation in your library or a separate office,” Manon says. “Papa prefers simple accommodations. By the way, do you happen to have a vase?”

Secondo merely scowls and enters, ignoring the exchange. The Sister looks doubtful, likely not convinced of his humility considering his whole get-up and the designer bags he’s carrying. The room is once again a rather small twin bedroom, bleak as expected, but it offers a lovely view over the rolling hills beyond the cloister.

They unpack some of their belongings but then the Sister is already back with two rapid knocks, handing over a water-filled vase before she carries Secondo off to meet the Bishop in residency. Without him, the room feels foreign. Manon busies herself by cutting the flower stems and placing the vase on her nightstand, two bright yellow specks in the midst of a clinically white room.

By the end of their first tour together they’d become inseparable, growing even closer through Dew’s difficult elemental transition from water to fire. Eventually it became the pack’s running joke that Aether and Dew were so attached at the hip they’d basically become one singular fire-quint ghoul mashup.

It was Dew who had finally asked the question.

Aether, will you be my mate?

And of course Aether had agreed, tears streaming down his face as he swept a similarly weepy Dew off his feet and spun him around in a crushing hug.

Really nothing had truly changed. But it would be official now. And up until this point, they’d maintained two separate bedrooms in the ghoul dens, usually opting to sleep together in one or the other’s bed. Now, they decided that they were ready to combine their spaces into something that was theirs together.

And that meant building a true nest. One meant for mates. One that they would christen on their first official, for real, write-it-down-in-the-books-and-stamp-it, night together as true mates promised to each other through a ceremonial bond of blood, tender sex, and elemental magic.

Sure they’d been having sex with each other since practically day one, but soon, after marking each other with their mating bites, they’d be truly bonded in body and spirit. Linked together in ways deeper than they’d ever been before.

And for Dew, that meant everything had to be perfect. Meticulous as he was in everything he did, it came as no surprise to Aether that Dew would be just as much, if not even more particular, about the specifics of their future nuptial nest.

They’d opted to use Dew’s old room as a space to store their combined belongings, leaving Aether’s room empty and open for their new nest. Copia and the clergy had gifted them an absolutely gigantic mattress, a “Alaskan King,” their Papa had called it - a gift for two of his most loyal ghouls in celebration of their eternal bond. It had taken the better part of the day for the pack to help them drag it inside and squash it through the door frame of the bedroom. Once inside it took up nearly the whole space, covering just about the entire floor spanning wall to wall.

It was perfect.

Dew looked so pleased that Aether had to fight against every instinct inside him telling him to throw the little ghoul down on the new mattress to consummate their bond right then and there.

Instead he trailed behind Dew for the rest of the day, dutifully helping the fire ghoul carry in a veritable mountain of linens and pillows. First, a brand new sheet set, another gift from the clergy. A truly fancy set, silky soft and cool to the touch, with a matching set of six - six! Dew had exclaimed excitedly - fluffy down pillows. They’d also pooled their money together to buy a matching fluffy down comforter, soft as a cloud and big enough to cover nearly the entire gigantic mattress. Dew had wrapped himself up in it immediately, like a cute little fire ghoul burrito made of down. Aether snapped no less than a dozen pictures of Dew, snug and grinning triumphantly inside his new blanket cocoon. He’d set the best one as his phone wallpaper background immediately.

With the base of their nest set, they were ready for the next step, one that they’d been looking forward to most. An important part of the nest building ritual for two ghouls to be mated - tradition dictated that the new couple should receive a cherished, used item from each one of their packmates, as a way to incorporate the scents of their beloved pack into the nest.

Cumulus and Cirrus, as the only other mated ghouls in the abbey, arrived first. They’d brought with them a hand-crocheted blanket, one that they’d taken turns working on specifically for Aether and Dew’s mating day. They’d used the softest yarn they could find, and had slept with it pressed between them for a week to properly scent it before it was ready to be gifted. Cumulus hands it over with happy tears in her eyes and Cirrus kisses both Aether and Dew on the cheeks, congratulating them on their new life together as a bonded pair.

Mountain comes next, bringing them a well-loved body pillow, one that Mountain slept with every night tucked between his knees. Helped with his spine, he said. Dew tries to refuse, knowing that the earth ghoul has a hard time sleeping without it, but Mountain insists. Besides, he says with a brilliant smile, now he has an excuse to ask the clergy for one of those genuine (and expensive) orthopedic body pillows. Aether and Dew thank him with a swarm of kisses before he bids them goodnight.

Rain is right behind him with one of his favorite plush animals in tow. It’s an oversized whale shark plush, bright blue with white spots, with impossibly soft, minky fur. He’d gotten it from an aquarium gift shop years ago, just after he was summoned. Normally it sat on Rain’s bed, either at home at the abbey or in his bunk when they were out on the road on tour. Dew is so touched that he has to fight off the tears as he kisses Rain, muttering misty-eyed little thank you’s against the water ghoul’s plush lips. Aether takes his turn to kiss the water ghoul as well, welcoming Rain to visit their nest, and his shark plush, whenever he wants.

Sunshine knocks next, showing up to their door nearly buried in a gigantic, fuzzy blanket adorned with an oversized illustrated tiger print.

“Trust me, you guys are gonna be happy to have this in the winter!” Sunny explains. Aether tries not to laugh at the sight in front of him, with just her legs and the very tips of her horns showing from behind the mound of heavy fabric. The blanket was her favorite, picked up from a bustling street market during their last tour. Dew and Aether graciously accept, promising to add the blanket to the nest as soon as the winter rolls around.

Swiss shows up next, grinning ear to ear as he gifts Aether and Dew two of his best furs. Dew had always admired them whenever he spent a night in Swiss’ bed, loving to run his fingers though the soft fur as he lay there, spent and exhausted after a tryst with the multi-ghoul. Aether thanks him by wrapping an arm around his waist and dipping him down for a nice, long kiss on the lips, interrupted only by Dew wolf-whistling at them and kicking Aether in the seat of his pants with one of his bare feet.

“Okay, okay,” Swiss laughs, throwing his hands up in mock surrender as soon as Aether lets him go free. “You can have your man back. But I get to be the first to pay you two a visit whenever you’re ready for guests, if you know what I mean.” He waggles his eyebrows suggestively before turning around with a flourish, leaving Aether and Dew alone and with full, happy hearts.

With the last of their pack gifts delivered, Dew excitedly climbs into the nest, now piled high with bedding, ready to start arranging things. But only a moment later, he’s interrupted by a soft knock at the door. Dew turns to Aether with a puzzled look on his face. Aether cracks the door open to find Copia standing there with an awkward smile on his face.

“Hello, my ghouls,” Copia greets them cheerfully, before handing Dew a small bundle of red fabric. “One more gift for you,” he explains, “for your most special night.”

Dew carefully unfolds the bundle, a small gasp escaping his lips as he recognizes the gift.

It’s Copia’s mozzetta, the short, red cape he usually wore draped over his shoulders in his cardinal robes.

“It’s not much,” Copia explains, rubbing the back of his neck, “but I hope this will work for your nest.”

Dew looks up at the former Cardinal with big eyes, tears threatening to spill at any moment. He takes the cape and carefully wraps it around one of the big down pillows, buttoning it together in the front before turning to Copia with a huge, fanged smile.

“Thank you, Papa,” Dew wraps his arms around Copia’s middle, nuzzling into the Cardinal’s - no, he was Papa now, chest. As soon as Dew pulls away, Aether tugs Copia in for a crushing hug of his own.

“Congratulations, my ghouls,” Copia says one more time, before closing the door behind him, leaving Dew and Aether alone in their nest, surrounded by their bounty of gifts bearing the comforting, safe scents of their entire pack, their Papa included.

Aether leans against the door as Dew goes back to his task of arranging everything perfectly, crawling around the nest scooting pillows here and there, bunching blankets up and spreading out the furs, fussing over the placement of everything until he is finally satisfied. Finally, he sits Rain’s whale shark plush atop the pillow wrapped with Copia’s mozzetta, before turning to Aether with a brilliant smile.

“There we go,” he says, standing and placing his hands on his hips and admiring his work. “What do you think?”

Aether studies Dew’s face for a moment, this beautiful little creature that he’d loved so intensely for so, so fucking long. He reaches for him, his perfect mate, and cradles his face in his hands before leaning in and kissing him, long and sweet, on those wonderful lips.

“It’s perfect, Dew,” Aether replies, going misty-eyed for the millionth time that day. “It’s perfect.”

Dew grins triumphantly in response.

Their final touch is to add their own old, well-worn and loved pillows, thick with the familiar scent of each other, to the center of the nest.

And with that the nest was truly ready.

Finally, at long last, Aether lays Dew down in the middle of it all, admiring the way his bare skin looks nestled into those soft blankets and fluffy pillows. Aether presses his forehead to Dew’s, inhaling the sweet, comforting scent of him. He’s never been more ready for anything in his entire life than he is now. Ready to become this ghoul’s mate, to bind himself to him for the rest of their lives.

Dew reaches up and winds his arms around the quintessence ghoul’s neck, bringing him in for another lingering kiss, growing steadily more heated with each pass of their lips until Dew is arching impatiently up into Aether’s touch.

Dew looks up at him with big, blue eyes - those same brilliant blue eyes that Aether fell in love with years ago.

Aether presses his lips to Dew’s neck, grazes his fangs to the soft skin at the juncture of Dew’s neck and shoulder.

“Ready?” he asks, muffled by the press of his lips against Dew’s skin.

Dew scrunches his eyes up and nods, tugs Aether closer and parts his legs, inviting him in.

“I love you, Aether,” Dew answers sincerely. “So fucking much.”

One more time, there is a rush of magical energy that echoes and reverberates and rebounds through the summoning chamber, and when it clears, there is another water ghoul sprawled out on the stone floor. Dew stares a little blankly as the new ghoul struggles to get their lungs working. The panicked wheezing echoes through the chamber.

Mountain glances from Dewdrop to the new ghoul, and squares his shoulders before rushing into the summoning circle. Will never blame Dew for freezing.

He hits his knees hard when he gets to the center of the circle, the stone floor sending a shockwave of pain up his spine. The water ghoul stumbles back, propping himself up on blue tinged webbed fingers, eyes bright and blue and panicked, and Mountain feels something warm and fond rush through him. It cuts through the panic and grief and fear from the last few months, but he ignores it for now. More pressing matters at hand.

He gets his big, calloused hands on the water ghoul’s shoulders. “It’s okay, I promise you’re okay,” Mountain says, trying to radiate calm the way he knows Aether can do effortlessly. “Not used to those lungs, I know.”

The water ghoul’s bright teal gills flare, fruitlessly trying to pull oxygen from humid air and water that is no longer there. The choked, wheezing noises ripped from him break Mountain’s heart all over again.

“Follow me, okay?” he says, rubbing the new ghoul’s back in encouragement. He takes an over-dramatized breath through his nose, blows it out.

The water ghoul attempts to follow, thick dark lashes blinking rapidly in an attempt to keep his eyes from drying out.

“There you go, that’s good,” Mountain whispers, taking another breath. “Keep going, that’s it.”

The water ghoul nods, thick inky hair plastered to his face.

“So good,” Mountain says, relaxing a little bit as the water ghoul finally gets the hang of breathing. He glances up at the Cardinal and Imperator, the latter watching with a raised eyebrow, the Cardinal’s panic as clear as day.

He helps the water ghoul to his feet, getting him used to gravity and the lack of pressure and buoyancy a deep sea ghoul like him would be accustomed to. He can feel Dew’s eyes staring blankly at him but ignores them for now. He will be at Dew’s side as soon as this new ghoul gets settled, swears it to the Prince. “Do you have a name?” he asks the new ghoul quietly.

“Rain,” the water ghoul wheezes, breath catching up to him. “My name is Rain.”

Mountain feels himself flushing as Rain turns his full attention on him, no longer panicking about suffocating in a strange new world. He’s beautiful in the way all water ghouls seem to be, but this is more than anything Mountain’s ever felt.

Rain smiles, raising an eyebrow, and Mountain knows he’s been staring too long. “And yours?”

He laughs breathlessly, walking Rain out of the circle as the Cardinal and Sister Imperator discuss something. “I’m Mountain. Welcome Up Top,” he says, smiling.

Rain smiles back, baring serrated teeth as Mountain wraps a similar thick blanket around his shaking shoulders. Those sharp eyes dart down to see the flush on his cheeks, dipping lower to his lips and then back up to meet his gaze. “I look forward to getting to know you.”

“Oh, I’m sure that pleasure will be all mine.”

They come to the end of the avenue. Mountain looks both ways before he starts to cross the street, giggly Tempest in tow. Dew shifts on his crutches, wishing he could light up and walk at the same time. He'd given anything for a human dose of nicotine right now.

He's about to call Swiss' name to pester him for a smoke when it happens. Swiss is replying between laughter, clapping a hand on Aeon's shoulder and saying something like “That's nothing, this one time I saw-”

Aeon never hears what Swiss saw. He's gone in the blink of an eye, in the space between breathing. There's nothing to mark his disappearance; no gust of wind or flash of light.

He's just.

Gone.

“Woah…” Aeon slurs, turning around to squint at Dew with his mismatched eyes, his scar puckering as he frowns. “Where'd he go?”

“Around.” Dew says nonchalantly, balancing on his good foot to use a crutch to gesture idly at their surroundings. “Been a while since he did his shadow shtick. Surprised he's risking it here.”

But that was always Swiss, wasn't it? Pushing the limits, testing his luck.

“Oooh…” Aeon says with a toothy grin. “Right. Shhhadow shhhtick.” He looks around with exaggerated movements, high and low. “Swiss? Where did you goooo? That's soooo crazy, he was right here!”

Dew rolls his eyes and takes Swiss' spot next to Aeon, resting his head on the kid’s shoulder for a moment. Debates asking for a bit of quintessence but decides against it. Maybe at the hotel.

“I got your man.” Dew announces to a particularly suspicious looking shadow. “He's mine tonight if you don't re-claim him.”

Swiss doesn't reappear.

“Jackass.” Dew mutters, but fondly. Things had been so tense lately with the transition, he's a little bit glad Swiss is pulling his usual tricks. Not like Dew will ever tell him though. Alright, maybe he will. When this cycle is wrapped up and they have their last night out before heading home. Maybe. Maybe Dew will tell him.

They keep up the game as they walk to the hotel, talking like Swiss isn't hovering in the shadows five feet behind them. Swiss, can I use your cologne tomorrow night? Oh, did you see that? I think that was a yes. Swiss, can we trade bunks? I don't think it's fair you got to pick first. Did you hear the wind? He's being so generous tonight!

Each time they expect him to pop back up, take Aeon's elbow and berate them in his usual manner for stealing all his stuff. Each time he doesn't and while Aeon is drunk enough to think he's dragging it out, Dew feels the faintest tinge of unease in his gut.

Something isn't right.

“Swiss.” He says before they head into the hotel. “It's old, bud. Come on, let's put this brat to bed.”

Aeon protests at being called a brat, at the implication he needs a bedtime but Dew doesn't hear him. He's got his eye on a liquidy shadow in the dim alleyway. Strange animalic eyes reflect luminously at him and for a moment, Dew’s shoulders drop. There he is, the bastard.

“Swiss-” he calls, only to startle, genuinely startle as the black cat leaps from the top of the trash can and into the light, hissing as it goes between his boot and his crutch. Aeon’s snickering but as Dew turns to watch it flee, all he feels is dread.

“C’mon man.” Aeon says, smacking his back. “He's up in the room waiting for us, I bet. What a jerk.”

“Yeah.” Dew says as Rain and the girls shoulder past them, still talking. Unaware of the shift that has subtly taken place. “Yeah.”

Saying anything else doesn't feel right because he already knows. He already knows as soon as Aeon slides his key card in and throws open the door, asking Swiss to come out with a laugh and is greeted with silence. He's not there. His stuff is, his duffle and a half-finished bottle of water with black lipstick drying on the rim.

But no Swiss.

“Go to bed, kid.” Dew says quietly, shifting his weight to take the pressure off his armpits. Fucking crutches. “I'll track him down.”

Aeon goes down like a puppy, tail wagging and big eyes closing innocently. He trusts Dew, which makes the lie hurt even more.

“Tell’im he's a jerk.” Aeon says into his pillow. “I wanted snuggles.” Then, as if to clarify, “Swiss snuggles. Swuggles.”

He's still giggling over it when Dew closes the door, leaning against it so he can pull out his phone to check their room assignments. Heads to his own first, just to make sure they didn't guess wrong, cussing under his breath the whole time at Swiss for making his handicapped ass hobble around like this. The anger feels good. A distraction from the nugget of fear.

But it only grows bigger, a deep pit opening in his stomach when his own is empty. Mountain's in the shower and it sounds like he's alone. Dew leaves without tipping him off and heads to Aurora and Rain next. They both confirm they haven't seen him but they'll keep an eye out.

He doesn't have to tell Cirrus when she opens her door. She instantly clocks something's wrong by the look on his face. Dew can feel his expression faltering, worry creasing his brow.

The decision to keep V out of it is mutual. The usual excuses of his newness feel wrong but they're still said. It only takes an exchange of glances to know they don't trust V with this, not yet. Pack handled pack shit. They would get this sorted out and if…and when they found Swiss, they'd both tear into him for making them worry.

Dew texts Mountain while Cirrus goes to grab Aurora. The little ghoulette is one step ahead of them, already sitting crisscross on the bed with her eyes aglow when Dew and Mountain join them. Rain’s filing his nails by the window, looking like he doesn't have a care in the world but Dew recognizes the way his tail is twisting around itself and so does Mountain. The big guy goes to stand by him, putting a hand on his shoulder in such an eerily similar way to Swiss that it nearly sends a shudder through Dew. He puts his crutches against the wall and collapses into the cuck chair, stretching his legs out, wincing as a jolt of pain streaks up his calf.

“Where did he vanish?” Aurora asks, sounding strange and ethereal.

“At the crosswalk.” Dew says. He gives her his hand so she can see his memory and at the moment of Swiss vanishing, she screams.

“No!” She cries, scrambling to get up, reaching out into empty space, into the memory of the past she cannot change. “Swiss!”

Before any of them can catch her, she tips over. Going down on the thin carpet hard, hitting her skull with a sickening noise and by the time Mountain’s gotten to her, helped her up, checked her over, she's shaking and sobbing, dry-heaving as she tries to explain and only makes herself cry harder.

“He's gone!” Is all she can repeat, rocking back and forth. “That stupid, stupid…He's gone!”

When Dew looks at Cirrus and Mountain, he knows with grim certainty it's no longer pack shit.

________

“What do you mean he's gone?”

In any other circumstances it would be funny. V in his bathrobe with a bare face. Copia on the other line, seething with fury. Speaking at the same time with the same words.

“I would've-” Aurora gasps, wiping away tears. “If I had seen, there's a, there's a moment where you can grab them back when they go and I could've, if I had seen, if- if Aeon had seen-”

Aeon hadn't seen. He'd been laughing too hard, too drunk to realize. No one wants to be the one to go get him for this. Tempest is an afterthought. She should be involved. She's one of them now.

No one moves.

“His summoning contract.” Aurora says in a low voice to keep it from breaking. “Up for renewal before we left. But there wasn't any time and he forged the renewal paperwork with my help, he told me not to worry and that he knew what he was risking, he told me it would work out!”

Her voice cracks and they lose her again as she buries her face in her hands.

“You're telling me you lost one of my best ghouls.” Copia growls and to V’s credit, his own voice is steady when he answers,

“Seems like this happened under your watch, Frater.”

Copia swears a bluestreak at V, who stands with his hands together like he's about to give a speech. Dew’s neck prickles at the way he seems to be studying them.

“Let me go look if we carry proper ceremonial equipment to resummon a ghoul.” He simply says and turns away from them to take his leave.

“I'll see what I can do on my end.” Copia mutters, and hangs up.

It's probably for the best if the new guy keeps his space. Already Dew feels better as V opens the door, let them mourn but Dew’s heart sinks again when he hears the sleep-scratchy voice of Aeon just outside.

“Where is everybody?” He asks with a jaw cracking yawn. “I got the weirdest feeling I don't want to be alone right now guys.”

“We have lost one of our band mates tonight.” V says succinctly. “And I am off to see if we can summon him back.”

Suppose there was no way to break it gently to him. Aeon goes from sleepy to stunned in a heartbeat, staggering into the room looking at V as he walks away. Turning to them all with shock etched in every line of his body.

“He's gone?” He asks quietly.

Dew nods slowly. He thinks the others do too.

“But I was…” Aeon walks to the bed on unsteady feet. “He was standing…and I was there, I didn't even…”

“There's nothing when we leave.” Aurora says softly. “It's like when humans die. One second we're here and the next…”

“Why do you know.” Mountain says, sounding utterly heartbroken and Aurora's face crumples. “Out of all of us, why do you know?”

“I don't know why he picked me to help him!” She snaps, fresh tears rolling down her cheeks. “He said he didn't want anyone else to worry, okay? Like it's okay to make me feel like this is my fault. I trusted him to make things okay!”

“We all trusted him.” Rain says. “And he trusted us too.”

“Not enough.” Dew says cynically and hates himself for it. He has the grace to avoid the dirty look Cirrus gives him and taps his good foot against the bad to make it hurt.

“He could have told me too.” Aeon says, dropping onto the mattress like a stone sunk in water. “We could have kept an eye on him, Rory, I could-I could have helped, right?”

There's something in the way Aurora curls up in on herself that sends a message to Aeon none of them can interprete.

“You bitch.” He says quietly, so angrily it makes Aurora lean away from him.

“I'm sorry.” She whispers. “You're too much of a risk, we wanted to keep you safe,”

“Is that how you all feel?” Aeon demands wildly, standing up and swaying on his feet. He pushes back his shock of white hair, forces the eyelid of his blind eye open, glaring at all of them as he digs his nails so hard into the ropey tissue of his scar that it hurts Dew to look at it. “You all think I'm a fucking liability? Just cause of this?”

“No one thinks that-” Mountain starts.

“My powers work fine!” Aeon shouts. “I was cleared by Omega after the fucking dust settled! I'm sorry I was too excited to be up here with everyone. At least I only hurt myself.”

He jabs a finger at Aurora.

“You promised no secrets.” He spits. “And Swiss promised he wouldn't leave so I guess you two are fucking made for each other.”

He's crying by the time he storms out the door, stomping down the hallway. Dew struggles to stand, reaching for his crutches but only succeeds in knocking them down loudly on the floor. Distantly, some part of his brain points out the noise complaints they're all going to receive.

“What do we do?” Aurora asks, looking to Cirrus for guidance. “Just wait? Wait around and see if we can get him back?”

Cirrus' expression is tight as she sits next to Aurora, awkwardly filling in the role of comforter Cumulus so easily played. Cumulus would know what say here, Dew thinks. Cumulus would have chased after Aeon and calmed him down. But she's not here and all Cirrus does is rub little circles into Aurora's back as her eyes fill with tears again.

“What if we can't?” Aurora asks. Dew wishes she would shut the fuck up. Each word out of her mouth makes everything worse. “What if we can't get him back?”