ghostsandabsintheâ:
punkwatcherâ:
tellurianwitchâ
Miranda gave a watery smile at his refutation. No, he was too stubborn not to help. If only he was too stubborn not to die. Three thousand years was a pretty long time. His brother might have actually been too stubborn to let him die, though. His effort had spectacular and impressive consequence, but not the result he wanted.
âŚdidnât Ciaran say he had two brothers?
She looked up at Adrian as he stopped beside her. Of course. Nobody should miss this, especially⌠but Ciaran had already thought of that too. Sniffling, Miranda nodded and let go of his hand, disappearing with a soft pop. She pounded on Zoeâs door before simply letting herself in, calling out as she searched for the woman. She didnât offer much explanationâ âCiaran needs you, get the babyââ before bringing her back to the others.
Then she was off again, finding Sean not where she left him but conveniently with Brandon. She might have looked a fright, appearing suddenly between them covered in dirt and oddly coloured blood with clean streaks where tears had smeared her cheeks. It likely gave an immediate answer for how things had gone once Sean had been sent back.Â
âI love you, Iâm sorry, we have to go now,â she said, grabbing both of them by the arm and taking them back. The surroundings had improved in ambiance a little, but only aesthetically. The mood remained dour, and it was unlikely to improve.
Sean had come back to a flurry of panicked texts from Brandon and decided the only thing he could do was meet the kid somewhere. At least they could be useless together. Except Brandon wasnât completely useless and most of their time in the park near the Ross mansion was taken up with Sean quelling panic attacks brought on in his brother by little mini-spurts of visions.
But when Miranda showed up, precognition really wasnât needed.
A mournful âNoâŚâ was all Brandon got out before they both reappeared in the desert, looking less like a desert now. Sean had been here only an hour ago. Brandon had been seeing this place for longer. Neither of them recognized the guy kneeling at Ciaranâs side, but the family resemblance and grief on his face answered that question pretty quickly.
At first, Brandon wondered what all these hyper-powerful people were doing standing around instead of helping. Then, slowly, he realized what that meant. He started to warble an apology, but Sean tugged him close to his side hard enough the kid swallowed it and coughed it back up as tears.
âYou did nothin wrong,â he whispered against his little brotherâs hair. âCome on. We got a chance to say goodbye.â
  Zoe frowns as thereâs a knock on the door. CiĂĄran had a key and she hadnât expected him back so soon, not when he was with his student. Thatâs when she hears the door open, and Miranda calling for her. A alarm bell rings in her mind as it dawns on her why it would be Miranda coming to find her instead of CiĂĄran. Her face blanches, and she goes over to where Oonagh was sleeping and gently wraps her in a scarf before following Miranda. She knew there was no time to waste, not with the sense of urgency in the other womanâs voice. A thousand questions race through her mind, the strongest one beingâ is he going to live?
   Immediately, she rushes to his side, fingers touching his side, which come back painted scarlet with CiĂĄranâs blood. Her lips curl into a grimace, and a hiss escapes between clenched teeth. âOh you stupid fucker. Whatâd you do this time?â Cradling Oonagh gently in the crook of her arm, she sinks down to the ground beside him, and reaches out to smooth a hand over his brow. âFucking shit. You told meââ her voice breaks as her throat tightens, and she tries to swallow back the tears. When she finds her voice again, itâs hoarse with emotion, âYou told me not again. I thoughtââ The previous thought dies on her lips, and she feels her blood start to boil, rage curling her hands into fists as she considers who might have done this. âIâm gonna fucking rip someoneâs spine out, so help me God.â
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Zoe practically spoke his own heart in her farewell with her scolding and her desperation and her vengeance and her resignation. ĂedĂĄn stayed close on CiarĂĄnâs other side, almost afraid to draw back, as though what little lifeforce heâd restored to his brother would fade completely if he moved. He could hardly take his eyes off Oonagh. For all his own children heâd had over the years, she was his only niece, and he almost choked on that precious truth as it came up his throat in tears. She was too young to remember all this, blessedly, but also too young to really remember her father once sheâd grown. Heâd make sure she remembered. Heâd make sure to stay in their lives as much as Zoe would let him, even if that was just checking in from a distance, watching for danger. Heâd always been good at protecting.
He lifted his head out of his own grief then. As Zoe said her goodbyes, he looked around at them all, every expression reflecting identical emotion. In varying intensity, of course. The one with the face like armor mustâve been Adrian, he thought, and the sobbing boy with ink all up and down his arms, Trevor. He hated himself then almost more than Vitomir. He'd always been too stubborn to travel, too occupied to host visitors, too busy living to even meet all of these people CiarĂĄn called his children. Immortality had made him lazy, made him complacent.
There was always more time, after all. Later. Tomorrow.
Living forever had never been a goal of his life. Even when CiarĂĄn showed up with eyes afire and held it out to him, all he could think was that those hands had been smaller once. Had once dug shiny stones from the river and offered them much the same way to his older brother. Look what I found. Look what I can do. Share it with me.
And of course he had.
Why should the seeker, the curious, the hungry be the first of them to fall? What was he supposed to do now without the spark that had driven them for so long? He didnât know. Heâd never had the answers. That had been CiarĂĄn, from the time they were small until this very moment. Even now his little brother seemed relaxed and at peace, as though things had gone exactly according to plan. Or at least that he was utterly fine with the consequences of his recklessness. ĂedĂĄn was far less than fine, but he could only blame himself for not being there as he had been in the past to temper that fire with stone.
As Zoe backed away, the others clustered in closer and ĂedĂĄn looked round at all of them again. These were all his responsibility now, he thought, not just his niece and her mother. Whether they welcomed it or not. Whether they saw it the same way or not, he knew it in his bones. Blood of my blood. So before CiarĂĄnâs adopted family got their turn, ĂedĂĄn gripped his brotherâs hand in his, their blood mingling like when theyâd made oaths as children, and whispered a promise on that power.
âIâll look after them. Iâll do better by them than I did by you.â He leaned down to kiss CiarĂĄnâs forehead, half just to hide the sudden streaming tears. âAnd I will miss you.â










