grey areas do not exist here

“I wasn’t. I came back maybe twenty four hours later. Most of my family didn’t realize what had happened. “ Spencer replied feeling like he was talking about stuff he shouldn’t have been talking about. “ Killing wound was sort of a mistake. “ He muttered. He hadn’t really talked about dying to many people aside from Ivy. “I didn’t know everything even when I was alive. It’d be a waste to have me do it now that I’m dead” he added at the end joking. 

“Ah, to each their own. Everyone’s stories are different. I guess it must be nice, not having to have dirt in your hair and under your nails. Do you at least know how you died? You don’t have to tell me I just...” She shrugged. She didn’t know how she died. She remembered a bright light, was she hit by a car, a train? Was she attacked from behind, in a hit and run like her mother? That was her villain story if there ever was one, not knowing who or what killed her all those years ago. “Why a waste?” she cackled surprisingly. “‘Ain’t no time like the present’ to learn new things, bubba.”

“Money is irrelevant really, so I’m not sure about that” Quinn replied shrugging. He had accumulated a lot of money over the years from not spending much and living off the land for most of his life. He knew how to live without it, but he was glad he had it now to make moves like building a house in town. “ Exactly. “ He replied as he nodded his head at her comment, he didn’t have to add much since he agreed with her statement and also cause he was fairly mortal. “ Sounds like a plan” He said before raising a brow at the pretty comment. Quinn ignored it though till he was elbowed at the site of a bar. He let out what could be considered a soft growl, before glancing up. “ You could have just said something” He smirked  “ This will be fine”

“Oh I’m sorry, can you see me from way down here? Does my voice reach you!” she exaggerated, poking him gently in the chest. “I just had to make sure you knew where our destination was.” They walked towards the bar and Henri’s grin dissipated. “You know, my dad’s a vampire. I don’t crave anything as a lich, but I wish I could eat something,” she said as they entered the doors of the bar. It wasn’t as loud as the movies would make one believe, maybe even quaint thanks to the small stature of the town. It was no Terrance’s, that was for sure, which she had only heard through the grapevine horror stories of. 

“No blood slushie or raw meat for me, just watching everyone get shitfaced and crying about how I can never be under the influence again,” she said melodramatically. She hadn’t even used drugs or alcohol much in her life, so while she had a second chance at it she couldn’t do everything she had wanted to once upon a time, like drop acid. The idea made her smirk because it was absurd, when she grew up she barely knew about such drugs and now there were ‘shrooms and tons more things available to youngsters. She was a curious person, but not that curious. Even if she was still alive she wouldn’t feel the need to do such things, but the reason these things ran through her mind was because she was envious of the people with warm cheeks and flirty eyes, wandering hands, and stinky breath. Maybe not that last one. 

Henri slapped the counter a few times to get the attention of the bartender and then pointed to her new friend. “Order up, pretty boy. Guess its your lucky day after all. No mace in the face, and a free drink? Damn son.” 

“Then I guess we don’t have anything to worry about in the near future, right?” Oona calls after her, obviously teasing. Getting out of work isn’t hard, it’s the walking to the car that does it. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea…then again, the doctor did tell her to stay off her feet. Now that she’s sitting in a car, she’s technically following the doctor’s orders. Still…her feet fucking ache. “Shit. Well, they should put up a warning for people carrying another human being inside of them. More weight,” Oona huffs out as she buckles up. Getting something to eat didn’t sound horrible…come to think of it, she is kinda thirsty too. The werewolf sucks her lips together, nodding as they make their way out of the parking garage. “I could eat. My mouth’s dry too, don’t know why. Maybe all that panting…you know what sounds good? Thai food.” Spicy food, that’s what sounded good right now. “Some red curry would really hit the spot right now.” 

“Well an average infant born is 6-7 pounds, so that plus all the shit your body is doing, burning calories, feeding it, growing it... that’s gotta add a lot of weight,” she chuckled at the other’s joke. Of course another human being was added weight! “Okay, good thing Tinker Thai is on the way to where I was headed, which is none of your beeswax,” she joked playfully. “I’m looking out for your baby, only water for you,” Henri gestured to her itty bitty baby bump and grinned. It wasn’t that she was hard on cash, she didn’t mind spending, she just wanted Oona to stay as healthy and hydrated as possible. Too bad they didn’t bring their reusable water bottles today, she thought as she pulled out of the parking garage and onto the street.

She saw a parked car. No big deal, cars were usually parked. But then someone was in it and she could’ve sworn she saw the glint of binoculars in the dim light. Now that was weird. 

Henri knocked on the passenger window of the car, but no movement inside. She tried the door handle and it surprisingly opened, so she sat next to the familiar vampire and slammed the door behind her. That seemed to finally startle him. “Hi there. What are you doing so late at night, Mr. Roshan? I know vamps don’t need to sleep, much like your friendly neighborhood lich here, but what are the ‘noculars for?”

Somehow Oona’s manages to make her eyes a little bigger and just a bit more…puppy dog-like. She puts a hand on her stomach, lip pouting. “Pretty please with a cherry on top? Oh come ooooon Henri! Two hours- no, three. Three hours, that’s all I’m asking.” That’s a big ask and she knows it. Hal would lose it if he knew she were driving around in an active patrol vehicle, but well…what he didn’t know couldn’t hurt him, right? She wouldn’t even get out of the car. “I won’t even get out of the car,” Oona promises aloud, holding up her pinky. “Promise.” A finger is raised but it’s not the pinky. The werewolf tries to contain her excitement over the won battle but fails miserable, fist bumping in the air. “Fuck y- uh, cool yep. I’ll meet you in the garage in five minutes.” Oona nods, biting down on her lower lip to keep from smiling. 

As soon as Henri’s out of sight, Oona makes a beeline for Noah’s office. Quickly, she pushes hair into her face and untucks her shirt, trying to look slightly more disheveled than she already is. Next comes the lie, which has something to do with hormones and nausea from the baby, something she’s never been thankful for until now. “Too fucking easy,” the detective grins, walking out of Noah’s office triumphantly as he practically ushers her towards the door. Instead of turning right towards the sidewalk she turns left towards the garage exit door, hurrying as quickly as she possibly can without actually puking towards Henri’s assigned squad car. “And with ten seconds to spare,” Oona lets out in a huff of air, nearly throwing herself into the passenger seat. “Jesus Christ, were there always that many stairs? I wasn’t even walking up them and I feel like I’m dying.” 

“Not like there’s anything to get out of the car about in Lethe. Maybe a misdemeanor or a double parking, if anything. Mostly just wasting gas, ruining the ozone,” she chuckled, leaving Oona to her business. She filed out the paperwork for the car, and thankfully since it was a small town being in a car by yourself wasn’t uncommon. She also scribbled so one reading the paperwork couldn’t make out if she was alone or not, making sure to cover her tracks if they got caught. She made it to the car, unlocking the door, and pulled the car around. When she saw Oona she opened the passenger door, barely able to reach with the restricting seatbelt and her short arms. “Yes hon, there were. Wanna get something to eat? Or drink?” She offered a ridiculous grin at the other. Her plan was to make Oona piss every five minutes to avoid doing actual work so the woman would always be safe and out of harm’s way. “Lunch is on me.”

“No that sets a bad precedence at being the type that can be bought off” Quinn replied shaking his head. Back when he was getting into trouble which seemed like a lifetime ago, he would have took the money and run, but Quinn hadn’t been that desperate sixteen year old for a long time. “ Yeah well they were here before most of us were, so you can either live with it or let it mess with your head. It’s really the only two options” Quinn shrugged. The only thing that really made sense to him was being a werewolf. It was being human he struggled with. “ Not really. You’re paying so I think its fair to let you pick”

“C’mon, you know you can be bought off,” she gave a mischievous grin and a tone that implied she was about to tickle him. But of course she didn’t, he was a stranger. “That’s true, I heard fae can live over a thousand. I’m not even sixty. I feel so infinitesimal, you know?!” She sounded exasperated, exhausted, almost relieved to get it off her chest. “Okay okay, first bar you see, I’ll buy you something then will get outta your pretty blond hair.” She still didn’t know if they were complete strangers or ‘friendly’ or what, so she kept her speech rather neutral with the man named Quinn. They walked for a moment then she saw a sign and elbowed him gently, enough to startle but not enough to bruise. 

“No, I don’t think we should do that,” she stated fiercely, narrowing her eyes at her coworker. But Oona’s big brown eyes and very slight baby bump were winning her over, and Henri couldn’t help but grin at her friend. “I’m gonna get in trooooouble,” she whined, but by then the war was already won. She shook her head and put a finger up to Oona. “Meet me in the garage in five minutes. Tell the boss you need to pee or something. Don’t you let me get caught, or I’ll curse ya baby.”

“Yeah well, I can’t stop someone from changing their mind if  they’re gonna do something. I can only just try to avoid it or accept and being dead sort of has taken away my fear of being injured” It didn’t take away all of his fears in general but the ones regarding himself, he honestly didn’t have any left. “You were buried?” He asked surprised

She narrowed her eyes at the man. “I thought most liches are buried and wake up from underground. Sometimes it takes longer for others, depending on the killing wound. You live in a town where liches run rampant, shouldn’t you know this?” she asked almost rhetorically. But she smiled to let him know she was pulling his leg, as the conversation was going more personal.

Emmett was shaking as he moved forward, pausing just a couple of inches away. “May I..?” he asked softly, not wanting to overstep, knowing how much he had missed. A lich. She was a lich. She was alive, at least some kind of alive 

He wanted so badly to hug her, ached to hug her. “I- A nurse at the hospital, she turned me into a vampire and-God, I wanted to tell you but I was so afraid that I wasn’t in control, that I’d hurt you and she agreed and kept reminding me and I believed her and stayed away and then you died and I was at the funeral and… And I fucked up and I am so, so sorry.”

“Dad it’s okay, it’s okay. I don’t care, I don’t mind, as long as I have you now.” She blinked back fantom tears that didn’t even well in her eyes. She reached her arms up to engulf him in an embrace, finding she needed his scent, or rather lack thereof, to fill her own deceased senses. She almost grinned at the fact that he went to her funeral. It was a morose, macabre type of grin that itched at her cheeks, but she buried her face into his chest, closing her eyes. “I don’t want us to feel bad for anything. I missed you. And now you’re back, somehow you’re here and... I’m here... I got word from a friend that she had her baby... I went to Afghanistan and met a witch and she lives here in Lethe... small world, huh?”

Aurélie raises a brow, a shoulder shrugging before she thinks twice about it. “I cannot claim I know Mr. Mallory, but yes, people being dredged up from a river does raise some concerns. It is a nice town, though, vraiment. Mostly peaceful.” The formal address makes her lips quirk. It’s grown unfamiliar. “Well, I hope you are settling in nicely–” She’s going to go on when the question earns a laugh. Henri isn’t one to filter her thoughts. It’s refreshing. “I suppose you could say the faking was done for me. Some people who did not exactly want me around anymore, je pense. But I took the opportunity to restart. I have been here about a year now.” She evaluates the other woman with a tilt of her head. “What brought you here? Nothing dangerous, I hope.”

“Oh wow. Did they think you died? Did they know it was fake or were they trying to scare you off” she asked hesitantly. She was starkly aware of her lack of niceties today, she was just so surprised to see someone from her past. “Tilda and Naomi had a kid, I was told the coordinates of town and was allowed in. Nothing dangerous at all. I’ve been uh, enjoying being a lich. No sleep. I can do all my homework, errands, watch a few movies, and a full day of work. I have saved up enough to travel, actually. I was in Europe before Lethe, actually. I would say there are some perks to being undead, which I’m sure you can corroborate.”

Cordelia grinned at her friend and took the present, trying to work up the heart to tell the lich that her child was not only a boy but an adult. “I don’t spoil it. But Henri, I really hate to tell you this, but… Luci’s a boy. And he’s an adult.” She grimaced apologetically at the girl because the thought she had put into this, even into the wrapping alone, was spectacular and it meant a lot. “But thank you, and he will love it. He’ll actually get a kick out of the paper too, just because it doesn’t match the gift itself. But Henri, thank you for remembering. That is.. That really means a lot. It makes settling into a new place easier to have people like you around.”

Henri was able to laugh at herself, thank goodness, probably because she was embarrassed. If she were human her cheeks would heat up, but alas she was somehow dead and not necessarily human any longer. She beamed at her coworker. “Please, we gotta stick together, right? And he’s job hunting so I figure on his off hours he can watch a few movies. I think the miniseries It is in there.” The truth was it was a handful of DVDs she bought for $5 each, some collections some singular, and they were probably all crap. However she remembered watching It shortly after she came back from the dead and didn’t find it scary. It was a miniseries, though, which probably explained it. “Settling in is hard. I get it. I’ve been traveling for a few years so I’m a bit used to not knowing many people and getting by by myself, but I get it. You need that connection. I gotchu.”

Spencer made a confused face at her explanation “ Maybe you’re thinking you’re in danger because you have mace?” He replied shaking his head. “No because it wont do anything to me if you did it. I’m not trying to be weird about it, but if you’re gonna be threatening people without warning at least it’s someone you’re not actually gonna hurt me”

“Well I can’t be hurt either, mister. Doesn’t mean I want to pepper spray myself just to confirm. I have enough confirmation, like waking up in a fucking graveyard.” Apparently the two were the same. And yet they looked so different. He was tall and muscular and she was short and petite. Liches really could be anyone, couldn’t they?

“A tree, well…” He gave that some thought; what tree would he be, all told? Hawthorn, if you gave the stories credence. Which he would. Stunted, thorny little things. Just so. Fionn swayed a little further away as the evening guard - Henrietta, Henry, H. Kenton, the evening guard - fretted in his general direction.

What was wrong with rivers? Plenty, these days, but that one had seemed fine enough. Why were Americans so bloody petrified of the naked body, anyway? As an artist, he had some feelings on the matter. Prudish censorship, ruined too many works to count. And beaches. How was it that a nation with such a rigid public schooling system failed to give its people much appreciation for the noble art of the poem, eh? What was so wrong with being in the fire service, either? Useful people. More useful than police, in his humble opinion. But you shouldn’t just say that. The questions, though. So many questions.

He gave all those a thought. Very seriously, of course. Then - “No.” Trailing a blue curl of smoke, Fionn carried right along, strolling by that bench. Still fairly scuttered. Still feeling those stitches, all the same. He grimaced, knocking some ash to the pavement. “No, Henrietta Kenton, I don’t believe I’ll trust you to know what I’m in need of. It’s not personal, at all, you understand. Always had a grave dislike of being told what to do with myself. Issues with authority, as they say.” He nodded, meaningfully, towards that badge on her hip. And all the toys that came with it. “You go on and write what pleases you. But I’ve had a poor sort of week, as is. And I’ve known cold, hard beds. More than I care to recall.” Or could, properly, given the circumstances. “Never done my disposition or moral fiber any good, if that’s what you’re implying. As such,” he pointed off towards the forest, directly. “I will be heading to my rest in those fine, green halls I love the best. Unless you mean to press charges. In which case you’ll have to write rather more, won’t you?” Fionn kept sidling away, with a wary eye on her. So he could get a head start, running, if need be. 

“Fine. Then I’ll be on my merry way, Mr. Doe.” Her arms fell to her side and Henri spun on her heel back the way she had come, back to her home to journal about the narcissistic asshole she had come by today who felt he was above outside help. Who found the grass a better comfort than a bed. Maybe he was a nymph, for all she knew. 

She brought a wrapped present to work. She forgot how old Lucy was (she actually forgot a lot about Lucy, like the fact that he was a grown ass man), so the wrapping paper was in fact Disney princesses. “Alright, I can tell you what it is because its for your kid, right? You won’t spoil it for Lucy? I got her a Blu-Ray collection of horror movies! It’s great because it clashes with the wrapping paper, she won’t see it coming!” She leaned back in her chair, her desk next to Delia’s. “And the birthday is easy because it’s 9/9. So I gotchu for every year on nowadays, Delia. I gotchu.”

“Well, at least we can agree on that much, eh?” He held out a hand, to the air in general. A little dampish. Foretold of a bit of that Washington drizzle, perhaps. Not that he could tell fortunes. Not remotely. Or he sure as shite wouldn’t have wound up here, would he? Given this all a wide berth. He took a step, loose-limbed, towards those dark, wet woods. Then cast her a glance, blowing smoke. Not so right out vicious as most of the guards he’d known, was she? Good for her. All the same, he had to have a snort. Wasn’t about to start arguing the whole spirit of policing with her, was he? No; no, he wasn’t, in fact. Got his nose broke, last time. Touchy subject. “The little guy? That a short joke, is it? Fair play.” Given he actually had some height on her; a rarity, alright. “I’ll be washing down in the river, if you’re so very worried.” Another step, and… a lean, on the back of that bench, some pain behind the clench of his knuckles. “Aye, with the moss for my pillow, and… the pines for my roof. That’ll do me. So, ah. Don’t trouble yourself, carry on. Must be some cats up trees to see to. Or’s that all on the fire brigade, hm?” 

“Bitch what are you talking about I’m 5-foot-1. You’re a tree to me,” she spat. He was so nonchalant and boring and slow and quiet and ugh, it irked her to no end. “As a matter of fact, I am worried. I work for the town now and you’re a citizen whether you own a home, or rent, or neither. You are in its vicinity and I have to take care of you one way or another, Mr...?” She sighed. “My name is Henrietta, but people call me Henri. My last name’s on my shirt,” she pointed to her chest, “H. Kenton. Can we trust each other a little bit now? I really don’t think you bathing in the river is sanitary, safe, or, you know, legal for passersby... might be I’ll just wait ‘til you flash somebody to haul your ass down to the station.” She smiled, imagining him insinuating she wanted to see his pasty ass. As if. Gross. “You a poet or what? Might do you some good to have a cold hard bed underneath you. Its not unlike that bench you were sitting on,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “Something tells me you’ve had enough mossy pillows for a lifetime. Come on, I won’t hold your hand, but I’d really like to get this over with so I can, you know, write up the paperwork. ‘And then he insinuated I was a firefighter, suggesting I go help a cat in a tree. What an asshole.’ That’s what it’ll say, alright.”

Quinn stared at the petite woman with an incredulous look on his face. This wasn’t the first time a weapon had been pulled on him but it was certainly the first time it ended in this way. “ Strange in a pointing weapons at strangers way?” He asked raising a brow. “Quinn. “ He replied lowering his hands. “ I mean I wont say no to a free drink, but there are easier ways to make friends”

Henri smirked. “Should I just give you a 10 and get outta your hair?” she asked rhetorically. “No, strange as in... vampires. Werewolves. What the hell am I to do with this information? I know I can’t die, but really? Blood suckers? Life suckers? Healers?” She seemed exasperated as if she even could be, with no hormones flowing through her mind or what-the-hell-ever. “Okay, you have a bar of choice? I figure I can apologize another couple-hundred of times,” she grinned at him. 

“Ah,” Mack said with a nod. “Right. My old nanny is a lich now.” It was still odd to her, that Holden was alive and well,. It was weird but it was comforting. Mack had spent a long time feeling like her death was her fault, that she could have done more or been better. Her father had only reinforced that. “But you do still get haircuts? That’s crazy.” She shook her head, a small smile finding her lips as she looked at the older woman. “Oh, uh. Hybrid. My mom was a werewolf and my dad was a fae and I’m half and half. Most hybrids die in the womb, and most kids of two supernatural creatures take after one parent like my sister. But the lucky few like me… We get health problems and early deaths. So I’m 24 but I have a heart condition and bad lungs. Granted my brain works well so that’s a decent trade-off.”She gave the lich a thumbs up and a carefree smile. It wasn’t a decent trade-off, not really. It sucked. “How long have you been a lich?”

“Oh, nice to know there are more like me. I’ve already met a couple around town. Honestly I might suspect that a lot of people wandering around at night--” she gestured to Mack’s person “--are liches because, you know, no sleep. But as you said, you got problems, we all do.” Henri nodded her head when the youngster asked that she still needs haircuts. She probably didn’t, but after thirty years and who-knows-how-much-longer of, well, ‘life,’ she didn’t want to promise to go cold turkey and have it grow too long in a hundred year’s time. “Oh, well I’m glad you didn’t die in the womb, sweetie. You’re much too pretty not to have lived, but I am sorry you have health issues. Why don’t I be your bodyguard on your way home? I just was made a cop, anyhow,” she grinned proudly. “Since before you were born, sweetie. 1991. You’re what, 18? 21? Still a child.” She felt bad for the girl. An early grave, what was that like? Sure Henri herself had died at 29, but she came back, her story wasn’t finished.