Howl

Maya sat with her back perfectly straight on the edge of the crisply made bed. On her head was a crown of Casablanca lilies and moon flowers. She had been put in a long shimmering grey dress. Her gaze, faced towards the window, was unfocused. She had to get out of here. Preferably she would get out of here before she figured out exactly what the whole get up was for. 

And she had no one to rely on but herself. It would take more luck than she’d ever had for Hermes to get to Soapberry and back with help in time. Her wrist throbbed dully. But that didn’t worry Maya much. What worried her far more was the way her ribs protested whenever she took a deep breath. Well, that and the two dozen werewolves in the house with her. One had come in earlier. They’d left food on the dresser without a word. Maya hadn’t touched it. She couldn’t guarantee what was in it. Her growing  hunger might be a problem. She couldn’t remember exactly the last time she’d eaten. It was sometime yesterday. 

Occasionally, she could hear someone pass in the hallway. A kid had been in earlier, no older than sixteen, to try and convince her to worship Werewolf Jesus. He hadn’t called him Werewolf Jesus. But Maya hadn’t been paying attention. She’d sat motionless and silent. Houses like this, there was no use arguing or begging or even talking. It was best to just lay low until she could figure out an escape. 

Outside the sun was setting beyond the trees. The full moon would be rising in a few hours. Maya had a bad feeling that unless she got out she wouldn’t be seeing the sun rise again. At least, not in the same way. 

He was on foot, looking forward to a long walk back to Rein’s house, where he’d prep for going into the forest later that night to wolf out. He’d forgotten again that he wasn’t able to just drop by after work at Maya’s place and pass out on her couch, or bed if she let him. He didn’t need his bike to get there from work. He thought it would be easy to break that habit but it was much harder than he expected. Once, he got all the way to her building before he remembered he wasn’t supposed to be there. He had to make a conscious effort not to make that mistake again. 

That was when Ryden saw a large dog sprinting towards him, barking up a storm. Honestly, he was ready to literally kick the puppy should it turn out that it was pissed at him for whatever reason and would rather bite than negotiate. But it wasn’t just a random stray - Soapberry didn’t really have any. It was Maya’s dog. 

He panicked for a second, cussing under his breath, pretty sure that Maya was around and bumping into her was not something he was ready for. However, she wasn’t, and looking for her left and right didn’t make her manifest. Hermes was barking like he’d gone rabid and Ryden tilted his head at him, realizing that something was wrong. Animal ken was not a stat he’d ever invested in, but being a werewolf had its advantages when a dog suddenly came up to you, demanding that you follow it. Tossing the cigarette away, he followed, slipping Faye’s moon charm onto his finger to stall the inevitable. Hopefully, whatever trouble Maya was in, he’ll be able to sort it out quickly.

The dog took him somewhere much farther than Rein’s house, and it was good that Ryden could keep up because Hermes never stopped to check if he was. He was almost out of breath when they finally slowed, stopping some distance away from an idyllic-looking churchyard. At a first glance, it looked deserted, but it was too well kept to be abandoned. The church itself looked more like a stone country house and there was smoke coming out of its chimney. It was also well lit inside. The obligatory cross on the arch of the roof was taken down but the little cemetery was still there. At least the gravestones were.

Hermes got antsy. He wanted to barge in and Ryden stopped him with a soft click of his tongue. Then Ryden dropped low behind some shrubbery when he saw someone step out onto the porch. That’s when Hermes decided it was a good time to tell them off for taking Maya away. They immediately noticed the barking and Ryden resisted the urge to scream profanities at the stupid husky. He moved, sneaking around the churchyard as the men approached to investigate. Having almost made a half circle around the perimeter, he was now sure that it was full of people. Strange thing was, it wasn’t Sunday church time. How was he supposed to check if Maya was there without alerting anyone? At least Hermes had stopped barking and was now quietly following Ryden as he sneaked around, thinking his next step through. 

Then Ryden remembered - wasn’t he a werewolf with supernatural speed and strength? What was he skulking about for? Giving Hermes a firm command to stay put, which the dog surprisingly obeyed, Ryden just walked up across the cemetery, alerting the people loitering - or keeping watch - there.

“Who goes?” One of them called out, all standing up ready to deal with a possible intruder.

“Hey.” Ryden approached casually, raising his hands up, in case someone was, for whatever reason, armed. “I’m here for the... thing.” He improvised, because church and people probably meant there was some kind of gathering going on. What kind though, hopefully they won’t ask.

“We don’t know you.” A smart one pointed out and Ryden countered. “Well I don’t know ya either, but I know some people inside, they told me to come. I’m Doug. Now you know me. Have a nice evenin’.” Hurrying up while he still got them too confused to react, he almost got away with it. Almost.

“Hey.” The smart one called out to him. Ryden paused and pressed his lip into a thin line as the man approached. “We’ll see Julian first. Then you can go find the people you know.” 

“Fifty only because of me being a murderous hobo?” he asked with a chuckle and then tucked a bit of his hair down to his forehead. “I’ve gotten a bunch of greys lately. Or well during these past few years. I don’t think I had any before I ended up staying here for a longer period of time.” Then a thought came to his head and he looked at Ryden. “Could it be that I’m getting greys because I’m not traveling all the time anymore?”

He let his hair go and the hair just jumped up and returned to it’s natural curly way.  He looked a bit amused when Ryden mentioned a bus, because Rein remembered very well what happened to the car on the first time they met. “Something stupid would be you slipping on banana peel you left on the floor ‘cause you tried to toss it in the trash but missed but didn’t bother to get up to put it in the trash, and then when you slip you snap your neck.”

The nymph shook his head a bit. “A shag”, he muttered, once again looking a bit amused by his choice of words. He knew about Ryden and Maya and he wasn’t quite sure would ‘a shag’ be the word to use about them. To him it looked like it could be something more, but he wasn’t going to question that. “Well, either way, you know the door is open if you need company.” Ryden would surely know that in this case Rein’s company could either mean hours spent in silence or talking about random things or the more deeper stuff. But Rein just wanted to make sure Ryden understood he could come to Rein’s apartment whenever he felt like it. Technically Rein’s home was his home too.

He listened intently the wolf’s words but as he clearly started to downplay his own skills Rein just frowned. “I’ve never had an ID ‘cause where the fuck do I need one for. I didn’t even have a last name until about a month ago.” Then he gestured at the apartment. “I don’t own this place. I have no clue who owns this place. It was abandoned when I arrived and I decided to make it mine. I don’t pay bills, I steal the electricity, water and heating. Sure, some people around town know this but they don’t give a fuck. So why the hell couldn’t you put up a repair shop of your own if you feel like it? Who is there to stop you? Just say a spot where you want the garage to be and we’ll build you the space there. Then you just take in the vehicles you want to, repair them in the timeframe you feel like doing it and that’s it. This town is all tupsyturvy anyway so who the hell cares if you have actual permissions to do shit. Just do what you love.”

This made Ryden pause briefly. “Are you a murder hobo?” He had to stop and question it for a second. Even though they’ve lived in the same house for a while now, they didn’t really know each other that well, what with both of them being so secretive and introverted. He dismissed that quickly, though - if Rein were a murderous kind of supernatural, he would’ve tried to kill Ryden already. And maybe fail, because Ryden wasn’t to be trifled with either. 

“Or, like, yer gettin old?” He guessed with a shrug because grey hair usually meant old age or stress. Then again, Ryden knew next to nothing about nymphs and how they aged. “As long as yer not gettin’ bald, I’d say yer good. By  the way, why aren’t ya travelin’ anymore?” 

“Hey! I never miss, bruv.” He pointed out, looking slightly offended, but he was quick to turn that frown into a grin. “Yeah, I know man, but you just don’t put out, sorry.” He might have turned it into a joke, but it was obvious that he appreciated Rein sharing his home with him. It was a place Ryden always came back to when things got tough - when Bellamy left, when he and Maya fell out, and after all of those supernatural disasters wrecking havoc all over Soapberry, Ryden knew he could find sanctuary in the house by the train tracks. He liked its silence, serenity and how, just like Rein, it didn’t ask questions or judge. 

It was a good question, and even if Ryden would riff and joke, or mock and deride, or ignore completely, Iann figured the werewolf at least deserved an honest answer.  Iann had seen what Ryden had done, after all.  He’d seen what happened, when the Man in Black first appeared in Ryden’s apartment.  He’d seen Ryden’s dead wife.  So yeah - the kid deserved honesty and then he could take it however he wanted.

“I don’t know,” Iann replied, honestly.  “You’ve been here over a year, huh.  And I know you’ve transformed into that - that monster, but I haven’t caught wind of you actually doing anything dangerous.  In your human skin you’ve been reckless and violent, but that’s different from the monster’s dangerousness.”  He didn’t elaborate, trusting Ryden to understand the difference.

“I’m thinking that when you fight - verbally or physically - perhaps it’s something of a vent.  A way to ease that building pressure in your blood, if you do feel any pressure to be violent, do violent things.  Maybe you’ve had dangerous thoughts, or dangerous desires.  Maybe throwing a punch at a drunk asshole eases those urges…maybe?”  Iann was tangentially thinking about Bellamy, and her metuo sanguis.  She was one way that a pure evil could manifest within the blood of a supernatural.  There were other ways too, but Iann was basing his theory on Ryden’s actions so far.  So far as Iann knew about, anyway.

“Hunh. I’ll bet,” Iann said, about Ryden’s queue of horny girls eager to be The Lucky One who got to expend him.  Iann didn’t really care one way or another since Ryden seemed to comprehend consent, despite all his fuckboy trappings.

He smiled indulgently as Ryden got a glee from being right.  He gave a ‘what can I say’ shrug, and then drummed his fingers on the counter, a way of fidgeting and stalling.  

“Ah, it collapsed, it was destroyed.  Retail wasn’t my thing, no.”  It was easier to just agree than say that Mal Ojo was something he’d built together, with his wife.  They were a partnership, they were Mal Ojo.  When she drowned, the shop became a shell, a hollow thing.   Ryden was the only person who’d shared Iann’s memories, but Iann knew by now that his wife’s tragedy was trivial to the werewolf.  Ryden would only either dismiss or lecture him, and Iann wasn’t interested in either option.

Ryden sucked his bottom lip in, listening intently. Iann provided insight Ryden had already expected. What scared Ryden the most was not the truth that he already knew and was sort of afraid to say out loud. It scared him that he had no backup, no monster-Ryden control to clean up any mess he might leave behind if he snapped at any point, or even better, the kind of backup that would anticipate his potential for disaster and somehow prevent it from happening. This was the price for keeping his situation a secret. He had no one to warn everybody that he’s a ticking time bomb and what to do if he went off.

“Yeah... Way fuckin’ different.” He agreed readily, taking the opportunity to talk about something he never talked about before. Introspection was something Ryden had always done privately, practically and without much success. Perhaps doing it with someone would bear some fruit. “I’ve always been like that. Bloody angry at everythin’. I think it got me into this shit in the first place - the way I am, this fuckin’ violence breeds violence circle that I goddamn spin in. I’m so tired of it. So dog tired. But I don’t know how to do different. Like, I breathe in deep, let it out, count to ten, step back but it never works. Never works...” He shrugged, and the funny thing was, feeling helpless about it made him angry too. 

“It’s gunna sound funny, but this town, man. I stayed for this long because there’s just... sumtin’ about it, yanno? I think if I was out there, it’d be much worse. I think that here, I’m not as bad as I can get.” It was a mystery but it was true. Perhaps it was the magic of Soapberry, the ley lines and the supernatural community. Who knew? Perhaps it somehow kept the Man in Black away too.

Forcing people to realize the truth was sometimes the only thing that could be done. Other times it would only make things worse. If they weren’t ready, it could do more damage than good, or even do irreversible harm. For someone like Ryden, Ruby knew he would have to find the truth on his own, in his own time, in his own way. It might take years, or he might come around in another few months. Either way, Ryden wouldn’t be forced into anything, especially this. It would destroy him.

So Ruby left it at that after she’d said her small piece. Ryden would do what Ryden wanted, as always. And Ruby would be there if he needed her. And even if he didn’t.

“Most people had no idea who he really was,” Ruby murmured. “And he wasn’t always that person. Not when we first met when we were teenagers. He somehow got in with the wrong people… and after that-” Ruby shrugged. “-he changed. On the outside he was…” She huffed, idly rubbing her arm. “… he was charming, funny, thoughtful. A Class-A citizen and all around decent guy. A good cop. Went to church on Sunday. All the marks of the kinda man someone would wanna know.” A sour look crossed her face. “But underneath… he’d become cruel, abusive, hateful… possessive. A prejudiced, racist asshole with a fuckin’ chip on his shoulder.”

As for the cause of death, Johanna had told her all she remembered, which wasn’t much. So there were things Ruby would never know. “Funny how that happens,” she agreed. “People you think would never turn their backs on you… on innocent victims… I swear David had to have threatened them. Or somethin’ worse. There was never even an investigation past the autopsy.” The coroner’s office had ruled Jo’s death natural, despite the supposed aneurysm that killed her being a one-in-a-million chance occurrence at her age and with her good health (supernatural bits aside).

She wrapped her arm around Ryden’s waist, nuzzling her face against him as they walked. “He’s dead,” Ruby confirmed quietly. “Though sometimes I wish he wasn’t. Just so I could see the look in his eyes when I rip his fuckin’ throat out with my bare hands.” She knew Ryden wouldn’t judge her for having such thoughts. He’d probably had them himself when it came to his wife. Though it sounded like he never got the chance for revenge justice either.

“You know what’s a word for that sort of person? A psychopath, that’s what it is.” Ryden concluded, shaking his head. “Wrong company can do a lot to ya, but mostly it makes yer own life shitty. That level of crazy though, there’s gotta be sumtin’ wrong inside, in the core of the person. Ya don’t get that from a ‘wrong crowd’. Some people just become... rotten. And it’s all their fuckin’ fault, I assure ya.”

He wished he could say that he couldn’t believe her, that these kinds of things and people had an explanation, something to justify them. But they didn’t. Sometimes, people were just downright evil, and Ryden was absolutely sure of it. The catch was to figure them out on time and get the hell away from them before they brutally screwed you over. 

“Damn, girl. Yer crap luck is... monumentally crappy.” In lack of a better phrase, because what could you say to a person whose loved one died in such a horrible way? It was the worst kind of betrayal and Ryden was sure that if he were in Ruby’s shoes, he’d probably be on meds now, locked away somewhere quiet and with padded white walls. He took a long, thoughtful look at her, wondering if she ever got over all that because he couldn’t imagine how would she. What do you say to yourself in the morning to get your ass out of bed despite everything? Literally, what?? Looking at her with these thoughts on his mind, he struggled to even begin to fathom how strong Ruby was. Actually, no - a perfect balance of strong and fragile that’s the recipe you need to endure despite the odds. 

Maya forgot to get a Christmas tree proper for her own apartment, so she leaves Ryden’s gift on the kitchen table. It includes, of course, the almost traditional bottle of Champagne. In addition, she’s wrapped a leather bomber jacket that she found at a thrift store. Aside from a jacket’s usual properties, it has an enchantment that allows it to function like a helmet in the event of a motorcycle crash or break a hand if punched. 

He wasted the little precious time he had before Maya got back home and caught him lingering around, thinking whether he should accept it, and the more he thought about it, the more it pissed him off. Tossing his backpack over his shoulder, he finally decided to pick up the alcohol. He’ll definitely be needing that. The jacket he left behind.

There was a voice in the back of her head that told her she shouldn’t be reacting like this. Yes, she was already stressed out from being followed around my her dead mother. But it wasn’t fair to take that out on Ryden, especially considering she was the one who had fucked up. She knew too how difficult it must be for him to not snap back. He was being the much bigger person, considering that she’d hurt him and she had.

Maya looked down as the fight went out of him too. She closed her eyes briefly. This was the kind of shit that got her left. No one wanted to spend time with a landmine, just waiting for the right pressure to cause an explosion.They were right too. If she couldn’t keep from lashing out like this, then no one should stick around just to get hurt. Maya took a breath. When she looked back up, she couldn’t keep the regret off her face. She swallowed, trying to bury the feeling that Ryden wasn’t going to call her again. With a nod, she said quietly, “Yeah, okay.”

Glancing over at Sarah, Maya did her best to give a lopsided smile. “Sorry about all this,” she said with all the tired sincerity she felt, “Wish we could’ve met under better circumstances. I’m sure you’re fucking awesome.”

She headed towards the door, the one she should not have walked through. Before walking out, she paused, “I really am sorry. I know that doesn’t make it even remotely okay, but…” Maya trailed off. She shrugged, not sure how to finish that sentence. “See you around, I guess,” she finished lamely. With that she left, shutting the door behind herself.

There at the top of the stairs, she paused. “Fuck,” she muttered to herself, hoping it was too quiet for Ryden to hear, “You have got to get your shit together, Parker.” Beside Maya, Rosemary opened her mouth to speak. Maya shook her head, “Not here. We can talk about it when we get home.” After all, Ryden had wolf hearing and had already dealt with more than enough of her baggage today.

“Really talk?” Rosemary asked with cautious hopefulness as they walked down the stairs.

Maya nodded, “Yeah, it’s a lot past due.” She was never going to be the kind of friend that Ryden, or anyone else for that matter, deserved until she dealt with her shit. And this was her shit made manifest beside her: the fear that she wasn’t good enough, that she was a disappointment to her dead parents, that she wasn’t the person she was supposed to be. She needed to deal with it, by herself, instead of just repeating the patterns of the past.

He wasn’t going to look at her, no way, not now. If he looked, he’d apologize, lie to her that it’s not a big deal and that she shouldn’t worry about it. But that wasn’t the truth. It was a big deal and Maya’s tear-filled doe eyes full of regret and guilt will not change that. He wasn’t her safety net and she shouldn’t have jumped with him. The sooner she realized that, the better.

Sarah looked as apologetic and understanding as anyone would, considering she was in a situation that was hard to follow through. She didn’t like it that everyone got out of this confrontation feeling hurt or pissed off, but there was nothing she could do about it except give Maya a reassuring smile.

Ryden remained firm in not looking at anyone in particular, the opposite wall getting all of his attention. ”Yeah...” He muttered under his breath when Maya apologized and closed the door behind her softly, lingering to make sure he heard Maya’s footsteps. Behind him, Sarah padded over, her ghostly hand lingering just above his shoulder before she remembered that she couldn’t touch him, not even to comfort him. She lowered it down and just watched Ryden’s hunched over back move with each slow breath until he was ready to face away from the door he’d just closed.

‘I did all this for you and Ruby. Because I wanted to repay you for saving my life.’ Aedan believed in fair deals and if Ryden had only accepted his service as repayment for what had gone down that night, he was going to do it. And to make Ruby happy, he had to try fix things. ‘So no. I couldn’t say no to this.’ Aedan knelt down and continued the work on the bike just to keep his hands busy.

‘I don’t listen to pop,’ he said from where he was knelt. ‘I’m more of a Blackmore’s Night kind of guy.’ He glanced up briefly when he heard Ryden’s half-compliment. He didn’t know if he’d heard him properly and tried to find a dig at him. But no matter how he thought about it, it was nice.  

Aedan grunted and tried to ignore Ryden when he left him to do the bike. All he knew was that Ryden was a troubled guy. Overly protective - or possessive. And defensive. If Aedan didn’t know better, he’d have thought Ryden was in denial about something. He huffed a sceptical laugh when he imagined Ryden crushing on Ruby. That would’ve been typical.

“If only a person’s life and happiness were a shark loan, ya’d totally be outta debt now.” Ryden granted Aedan with a grin full of sharp teeth. 

Just like Aedan would get lost scrolling through Ryden’s playlist, the feeling was mutual, and Ryden’s nose scrunched at Aedan’s music tastes. “Whatever, hippie, do yer thing.” He left the druid with that, happily bouncing off to make someone else’s life miserable now. He was done annoying Aedan. After all, being obnoxious is fun only if you do it to everyone in equal turns. 

Rein raised his brow at Ryden’s answer and then chuckled. “You are talking to a person who is over a century old”, he noted and then just shook his head with an amused look on his face.

The nymph chuckled again. “All that partying will be your doom one day.” Surely being a werewolf would make that harder, but in Rein’s books raves sounded like a lot of drinking and dancing and those would take their toll at some point. Rein looked up to Ryden while chewing, clearly starting to ponder something. At first he wasn’t planning on saying a thing, but eventually his own curiosity took over. “You haven’t been in here in quite a while and usually during those party nights of yours you still come over here. Maybe not every time, but you still are here few times a week at least. But it has been quite quiet lately, so I’m rather sure you haven’t been here. So what happened?” Maybe in a way it was some sort of brotherly concern, especially since the stuff that had been going on Rein’s own life had made him rethink a lot of things and in a way made him care a lot more about the people around him.

“Well, if you don’t like your job, why stay in it. I’m not saying you should do what I do – as in just the random stuff I feel like doing whenever I feel like doing those, but then again, I don’t care about getting money. I don’t really need it for anything. But if you quit your job, what would you like to do?”

“I wouldn’t give ya a day more than forty.” Which Rein could take as a compliment or an insult, whichever he preferred. “Fifty, when ya still kind of looked like a murder hobo.” Alright, it was a little bit insulting, gotta admit. Not a thing Ryden had ever had a filter for though, and it was unlikely that he’d ever get one.

“Pshhh, no. If sumtin’ does manage t’kill me one day, it’ll be sumtin’ stupid, like a bus.” Then he remembered how him and Rein met and changed his mind. “Okay, correction, I’m indestructible, god help ya’ll.”

If Ryden was moved in any way by Rein’s concern for him being missing for so long, he didn’t show it. Instead, he just grinned lecherously. “I got a chick I’ve been bunkin’ with. Sorry mate, thanks for everythin’, but a shag is a shag.” Of course he’d cover up the truth by being disgusting. After all, shock and awe tended to distract. And it wasn’t far from the truth - he had been sleeping at Maya’s place, sometimes staying there for days in a row. It was the golden age of their non-relationship thing which seemed to have come to a sour end now. Something squeezed at Ryden’s heart when he thought about it and he shoveled more food into his mouth to bury it. She would never want to see him again after what he said to her. He just needed some time to convince himself that this was a good thing and exactly how it was supposed to be.

Thankfully, the subject changed. “Is not that I don’t like it, it’s just that the boss I liked left and it ain’t the same no more.” He wished Bellamy was here. Without her, he had no one to run to and whine about everything like a little bitch while they got drunk on vodka and edelweiss. Working at the Erzebeth’s without her just seemed pointless now. So he was thinking of falling back into his old patterns again, which was switching jobs when he got bored. 

When Rein asked him what he actually wanted to do, Ryden shrugged, now just poking at what was left on his plate with a fork. “I dunno. I always wanted to have me own business. Like, I guess, maybe a car shop? I’m good with vehicles. But for that, ya gotta be, yanno, a responsible adult. I got my ID just cause of my age, heh.” When it came to these things, Ryden was brutally realistic. He’d never be good at anything he really wanted to do until he actually got his shit together. Which was nowhere to be seen on the horizon, not in any recent future. 

“It’s a small town,” Iann said blithely, as Ryden’s question was the answer.  “Plus I know the right people to ask…” He studied Ryden’s wolfy grin - or really, it was a smirk.  The kid was pleased, and Iann didn’t have the heart to tell him that it wasn’t exactly due to his notoriety cred so much as his lack of presence.  ‘You seen a loud meaty super-tattooed British dude around lately?’ was an easy question to ask.  Ryden provided easy enough physical markers to be pinpointed.

Which of course, made Iann vaguely wonder why the Man in Black hadn’t just descended into Soapberry to steal its prize.  What was keeping the creature at bay?  

But Iann didn’t mention any of those thoughts to Ryden either.

Instead, he gave Ryden a small smile as he advised jerking off.  “Hnnn…maybe your stress, Dodge.”  Iann licked his thumb, slowly and deliberately finishing up the nachos. He’d been methodically consuming them and hadn’t really stopped, but Iann was taking his time.  It gave him a chance to study Ryden more, read what he could in the werewolf without having to ask direct questions.  

But of course, being Iann, he had to ask something.  He took Ryden’s blinking in stride, knowing he’d switched gears - but Iann also knew it wouldn’t take long for Ryden to snap forward.  Confusion wasn’t the sort of thing that seemed like it would hinder Ryden for long.  

“Mm, y’now now that you say it, I take it back.  Freaky shit is my life, it’s not just a hobby…” Iann felt he had to correct.  Too often people assumed his interest in supernatural took up his spare time.  Something he did for superficial fun or ‘academia’, like an armchair WWII history buff.  Something he could pack away when it was no longer convenient to his actual life.  He had to laugh though, slightly bitter, at Ryden’s ideas.

“My old occult shop was called Mal Ojo - !  Which translates to ‘Evil Eye’….”  Iann pointed at Ryden.  “So you’re not too far off the mark there.  Just a live forum instead of online.”

“Yeah, I bet you do.” He didn’t need Iann to tell him to conclude that. After all, Iann’s been in Soapberry for much longer than Ryden. Given his resourcefulness, he was bound to have quite a few contacts he could ask for the info he needed - he wouldn’t even have to go to people where Ryden’s reputation mattered. Those would just steal his wallet for shits and giggles. “Do ya think I’m dangerous enough to keep track of?” He asked, on a more serious note, referring to what Iann had found out a while ago about the circumstances of Ryden’s turning into a werewolf.   

Just like he could flip a switch on being threatening to turning it into a joke, Ryden was a master of going from serious then back to easy-going. It was this sort of bipolarity which most people couldn’t follow up with. It was never clear when Ryden took things seriously or was just pulling everyone’s leg. Unless he literally told you that he was taking it seriously, in which case he made it loud and clear. “Bruv, I got a line just queuing in to do that for me, I never git that kind of free time.” He shrugged humbly, as if it was literally out of his hand. Although there was some fire to that smoke, he was narcissistically exaggerating, as per usual.

Collette didn’t bother to suppress her smile as Ryden gave his war cry. Most people would’ve been blasted away by the sheer volume of it but it only served to fuel Collette’s adrenaline rush.

‘You’re being paid to live here? With money?’ she asked with a playful grin. ‘They pay me in magic beans. I’ve been had!’

Oh he was one of those mischief makers. She could play, too. ‘You can guess all you like, so long as I get to guess your’s. It’s only fair.’

She gave him a sceptical look, mischief in her smile. ‘I’d be an awful Scot if I didn’t have at least a little something to drink. Especially for the man who saved my life.’ She doubted Ryden was an ‘aged wine’ man but she also had plenty whisky and beers knocking about.

“Pfft, I guess you have.” He snorted, amused by her joke, all the while thinking what an awesome personality this old broad had. He never would have guessed that she was well past a regular human life span. The fact that she still looked so young and beautiful helped. 

Maya huffed a laugh, “Eh, I’m kind of a dick.” By the door, Rosemary winced. She still didn’t say anything though.

As Sarah tried to comfort Maya, the witch’s smile softened a little. She appreciated the effort, even if she was less and less convinced that she deserved it. She didn’t disagree either. The dead should stay dead. If Maya had learned anything from the hours of research in her teenage years it was that nothing good ever came from the dead coming back. Her current experience was just proving that point.

Almost on instinct, Maya gave a half shrug and not entirely convincing crooked smile, “He doesn’t need to. I’m fine.” It was a lie, of course.

And she might’ve been a bit more fine if Ryden hadn’t placed himself between her and the door. She swallowed. As he spoke, she forced herself to stand up straight. He had her there. She had to admit that to herself. But with him between her and an exit, she felt that old familiar defiance settling on her shoulders. It was like slipping into a well worn shirt, easy and comfortable. With both her long dead mother, her friend’s dead pregnant fiance and Ryden looking at her, she didn’t even try to stop the defense mechanism from kicking in. Still, it was a testament to how much she had changed since her childhood that it hadn’t kicked in immediately. “I hadn’t thought that far ahead,” Maya replied. The nervousness had dissipated. Instead, her voice had turned low and even. “I was worried about you. I hadn’t heard from you in days and this magic’s pretty fucked. “ Rosemary winced again. Maya registered it, but didn’t react. “And then you were being pretty fucking weird and cagey, so that didn’t exactly help. I didn’t know you were…” She had the good sense to stop herself there. Instead, she glanced at Sarah again before returning a steely gaze back to Ryden.

Ryden listened to her reasoning, with patience he usually didn’t have the capacity for, which said just how much he’d changed himself, breaking free bit by bit from the patterns a rebel boy angry with the world would easily fall into. It was a difficult path to choose, unfamiliar and itching like tight shorts, his whole body and mind resisting his attempts to understand another person, acknowledge their feelings, fears and insecurities in order to achieve reconciliation and sympathy. 

It was hard to put others’ hurt and pain first, when he was constantly writhing in his own torment, his biggest now standing in the corner, watching this whole scene develop. Sarah was an open wound and Maya had poked at it without his permission. Like a wild animal, Ryden’s first instinct was to snap his jaws at Maya, shield the wound and attack before Maya made it bleed. Not doing this was close to impossible but he tried nevertheless.

He shook his head with a bitter laugh. The change in Maya hadn’t escaped him. She was progressively shutting down, a thing she obviously did whenever she couldn’t process a situation fast enough, whenever an awkward, painful moment threw her back into her still lingering childhood trauma. She wasn’t capable of handling his shit - she might never will be. “Fine, whatever. I’ll call ya when the coast is clear.” Which was also something that might never happen. Ryden will always carry Sarah’s death around with him like a shadow. He wouldn’t force that dark side of him on anyone, least of all a person who barely handled their own heart’s darkness. And if Maya hadn’t pushed past him through that door earlier, he would have never told her about it anyway. 

Curiosity killed the cat, so Ryden will bury it. He stepped away from the door to let Maya through. “Lay low ‘till the storm blows over.” He meant the whole ghost thing. He might have started it but he sure didn’t know how to stop it. As far as he knew, the best anyone could do in this situation was to wait and see how this panned out. He looked away from Maya, waiting for her to leave.

Ruby knew a person could only hear the same words on repeat for so long before growing weary of them. Half the time it was to make themselves feel better anyway - to make them feel the opposite of whatever it was they were trying not to feel when faced with another’s pain - and not about the person that was hurting at all. Besides, what good would it do? It didn’t make people any less dead, did it? Just as Ryden’s wish hadn’t made his Sarah any less dead. Or Johanna. Or anyone else.

A fact which Ruby was fairly certain Ryden was acutely aware of. Though in her case, she couldn’t say she was sorry to have seen Johanna again. There were ways to contact her sister’s spirit if Ruby had wanted. She knew plenty of witches that could have summoned her. But the truth was that Ruby was scared of what she’d find out. Scared of what Johanna might say to her. That she would confirm Ruby’s fears about Johanna blaming Ruby for her death. So in a way, Ruby not having a choice to see her sister again had been more good than bad.

But not everyone had had the same experience.

Ryden for one.

His answer didn’t completely surprise her. Though it did make her frown. If only because she knew there was no way to truly bring back the dead. Not as they once were. Even if such a magic existed that could put a soul permanently - even the most powerful necromancy was only temporary, after all - back into a physical body, they wouldn’t be the same. They would be changed. Different. That was simply the price.

And Ruby almost asked what Sarah would want, but thought better of it. She’d likely want to not be dead. So Ruby kept the question to herself for now. She also wanted to ask if it was Sarah that Ryden wanted back so badly (though Ruby had no doubt he did), or if it was something else. Maybe the life she represented? The future they’d been meant to have? Before Ryden was bitten. Before he’d come to Soapberry. And even as much as she feared for her friend’s safety and his mental and emotional well-being - and even though she knew it would probably hurt others that they both cared for - Ruby couldn’t help but wish that he could find what he so desperately wanted.

So Ruby nodded, accepting his answer and not chastising him for it. “Just… be safe, alright?” Because she knew he wouldn’t stop looking, no matter what she said or how many people told him it was impossible.

The conversation shifted back to Johanna, and Ruby frowned slightly, but not in a way that said the question upset her. She was merely thinking it over. “My husband murdered her in her sleep.” There was a pause as Ruby took a breath. “She threatened to out him for what he was - a Hunter - to the supernatural community, if he didn’t quit puttin’ his hands on me. It came to a head while we were all at my parent’s for Christmas that year. And he…” Ruby shook her head, and they walked for about half a block before she spoke again.

“Doctors said it was a brain aneurysm. But Jo was young and healthy. And a werewolf. There was no way it was natural.”

Ryden recognized the frown that flitted over Ruby’s expression. It was the same frown others had worn when faced with Ryden’s resolution to do the impossible. It was the I’d-advise-against-that expression. Everyone knew it for a fact that the dead could not be returned to the land of the living. Ryden’s problem was that he couldn’t believe that fact even for a second. If he did, his world would implode and break all around him. He couldn’t have that, now could he? He was completely inept to fix that level of damage the reconciliation with this absolute truth would bring. 

So he just shrugged, leaving Ruby’s request to be safe without a comment. His own safety was the last thing on Ryden’s mind when people he cared about were concerned. In case of Sarah, she was deceased and he was alive. The worst that could happen to him was to become deceased himself too. Anything else was not much of a price to pay in comparison.

He let Ruby take her time with telling Johanna’s story, because he knew just how difficult it was to word such a tale, abridged or extended. Just saying out loud that your sister was murdered by your husband was enough of a lump in one’s throat to talk through. “Shit...  That fucker was seriously out of control. I can’t fuckin’ believe that no one had figured the cause of death out. It’s like everyone who can do sumtin’ about shit suddenly become useless when it hits the fan.” Same thing happened with Sarah’s murderers. They were caught and convicted but not given maximum punishment for lack of further proof and other legal bullcrap Ryden didn’t care to understand. As a matter of fact, them being behind bars now put them in a safe place Ryden couldn’t reach so he could deliver his own vengeance upon them the way he thought they deserved it. The system outside was screwed up, that was for sure.