Top Posts Tagged with #danielabrams

TIMING: recent LOCATION: wicked’s rest state park. PARTIES: @danielabrams & @bazzledazzle. SUMMARY: wanting to hang out with daniel more, baz enlists the other as their guide for a hike. unfortunately, birds. CONTENT WARNINGS: gun use, animal death.

It would surprise no one who knew Baz to learn that they weren’t much of an outdoorsman. They much preferred to enjoy the comfort of the great indoors, with soft couches and television. But they were also the sort of person who liked trying new things, and there were so many things they’d yet to experience. Maybe they only preferred the indoors to the outdoors because they hadn’t found the outdoors activity that best suited them yet! And maybe that outdoors activity needed to involve handsome men who were nice to them and willingly sacrificed flip phones on their behalf!

Which brought Baz to the State Park, where they had shown up for a guided hike and requested Daniel by name. They were already regretting it a bit — this part of the State Park was a bit swampier than they’d expected it to be — but it was sure to get better, wasn’t it? Daniel was a professional! He must have had ways of making hikes enjoyable, otherwise no one would do them! Baz wasn’t giving up hope just yet, no siree. They were determined to enjoy this.

“What sort of plant is that?” They asked, pointing to a plant at random. “Is it edible? I worry we’ll starve out here.” They’d only been hiking for about fifteen minutes, but it was good to get ahead of things like that!

—

Daniel was a bit surprised when his boss told him that he was requested for a hike by Baz. He never expected them to step foot in the great outdoors again after their last adventure with the treacherous vines. But he liked the idea of seeing them again and hopefully giving them a better time this go around. To prepare for their expedition, he packed his usual items in his hiking pack: first aid kit, snacks, satellite phone, and emergency kit. But today he packed spare knives, his takedown hunting rifle, and whatever else he could fit into his pack. He had too many run-ins with supernatural beasts in Wicked’s Rest, and he needed something better equipped than his handgun.

As they walked along the trail, Daniel pointed out a few plants and birds to Baz. He couldn’t help but wonder why they booked a guided hike, which meant paying money (and they better give him a tip afterwards too), when he would have gladly taken them on a hike for free. Extra cash wouldn’t bother him though. He needed to save up for some new weapons. Yes, weapons were the main thing on his mind nowadays, due to the whole berserker situation. It was hard to think of other things when he needed to focus on equipping himself.

He glanced over at the plant that he assumed Baz pointed at. “Sweetfern. Sort of edible. You can make a tea.” He was pretty certain that was right. “You ain’t gotta worry about starving though. I got us snacks, and there’s plenty of other plants to eat out here. This ain’t a long hike either.” Not that that mattered anyway. Their last walk was supposed to be a shortcut.

—

Daniel was certainly knowledgeable, and Baz liked that. There were few things better, in their opinion, than listening to someone go on about a subject about which they were both knowledgeable and passionate. It was something they’d learned about themself when they’d lived with Sebastian, who was partial to long, excited rants about his art (and occasionally his favorite television programs). Baz often felt that they could have listened to their flatmate for hours on end, and later found that this extended to other people as well. They liked to hear Joel talk about things that made him excited, liked to listen to Jenny and Rosemary and Molly. They’d like listening to Daniel, too; that was part of why they’d booked the hike.

Of course, they could have probably just asked him on a hike. He might have said yes — but it wasn’t a guarantee. To ask was to risk being told no, and Baz didn’t like the way that sort of thing made them feel. They’d never done well with rejection, never liked how it settled into their chest and spread down into their gut. Better to avoid it when possible, even if it meant emptying their pockets a little. They could afford it at the moment, at least — they’d yet to spend all the money they’d made selling a painting to Eden, who’d certainly overpaid even if Baz was in no hurry to let him know as much. It would allow them to pay for this hike, and therefore guarantee Daniel’s company for the duration of it.

And it was good company to have, especially on a hike like this. Daniel seemed to have thought of everything — including snacks, which were sure to stave off starvation. “You really are a mountain man!” Baz exclaimed, clapping their hands together. “Is the tea any good? From the sweetfern. I do love tea, though I know that’s a bit of a cliche.”

—

Daniel grinned at them calling him a mountain man. A blush didn’t come across his face this time, but he still liked the comment. “Not really sure. Ain’t never made it myself,” he answered. He glanced around at a few of the other plants around them. “That tree right there. That’s a pine. I’ve made tea from the pine needles. But you’ve always gotta be careful with the pine trees, because some ain’t safe for consumption. That one is though.” He paused for a moment. “It’s got a nice flavor to it, but sometimes it can be a little bitter.”

Daniel ducked his head as he neared a low hanging tree branch. He grabbed it and lifted it up for Baz to pass underneath it. “Sometimes I make different tea blends. I’ll buy some loose leaf black tea, and then throw in some plants that I’ve foraged. I’m sure we’re not the biggest fans of roses at the moment, but rose petals are a good ingredient. I like experimenting with ingredients and coming up with all sorts of combinations.” The jars in his camper proved that; multiple jars lined his shelves with various tea blends. “It is a bit of a cliche. What’s your go-to tea?”

—

Learning had always been something Baz enjoyed. As a child in their father’s house, they’d been hungry for an education that they were often denied. They were taught things deemed useful, of course — languages they might need to know to properly manipulate the people their father wanted manipulated, things they might be asked about whose answers would help them sell whatever story they were telling — but they had always ached to know more. When they got out of the house they’d been raised in, the first thing they wanted to do was expand upon their education. That was why they’d sought out art school instead of simply setting out as a freelance artist without the formal education that many went without, anyway. Even now, in the woods surrounded by trees, they hung off Daniel’s every word as he spoke about the different types of tea you could make from the trees surrounding them. “How do you know which are fit for consumption?” They questioned eagerly, looking to the tree Daniel had indicated. “Do you drink it often?”

Baz stepped under the branch as Daniel lifted it, grinning at the display of chivalry. They liked this about Daniel, liked the way he seemed to display the infamous ‘southern hospitality’ so well. “Ah, a creative tea consumer!” They grinned, though they made a brief face at the mention of roses. Yes, they were certainly not a fan of thorny flowers following their last in-person interaction with Daniel. Still, they were a fan of rose tea. “Any you’ve come across that are too good not to share?” There was a genuine curiosity to their tone. Discovering new things was always fun. As the question turned on them, they hummed thoughtfully. “I love a good milk tea,” they replied. “Kashmiri chai was always a favorite of mine, though I’ll admit that that’s partially due to the color. Doodh pati chai is nice, too. Earl grey is quite common where I’m from, of course, so I suppose I acquired a taste for it as well. Suppose I have several in rotation, really. Hard to pick a favorite!”

—

“I drink it sometimes, yeah. Usually in colder months. And well, I got a bunch of that information memorized at this point,” Daniel answered. “For pine trees, you can tell the differences based on how the needles look and smell. The tree bark is also an indicator for what type it is. Once you figure it all out, it gets easy to identify what is what.”

Identifying what is what was a requirement in the Walker-Abrams household. Daniel’s parents both grew up learning about plants, foraging, and living off the land (although the two learned this information for different reasons). His parents took him and his sister out into the woods of their mountain holler to learn about everything that surrounded them. Sometimes they took the two children to the Walker extended family property by the river for further education on plant identification. His parents quizzed Daniel and Maya by pointing at random plants and asking about them. Daniel excelled at identifying the plants (which later helped when he learned all about supernatural beasts that he hunted).

Of course, Daniel couldn’t memorize everything. That’s where plant identification books came in handy, and he had a worn-down field notebook that lived in either his back pocket or hiking pack. Right then, it was in his pocket. He pulled it out to show Baz. “Plus, I keep track of what I find to make it easier to identify.” The notebook’s cover was bent in the bottom right corner and part of the top cover was torn off. He flipped to a random page which had a pressed plant taped onto the paper with his handwritten notes around it. “This notebook is all about Wicked’s Rest plants. If I ain’t sure about something, I do something like this. Makes my life easier.”

Daniel pondered on their question as he thought about different tea blends. “So right now, I’ve got a dandelion and mint tea that tastes good. Add some lemon and honey to it. It’s good,” he answered. He listened as they described their own tea interests. “Cain’t say I know much about the difference between them chais,” he said. “Earl grey is very stereotypical though,” Daniel said with a light laugh. “But that’s fair because it tastes good.”

—

“Nothing like a hot cuppa on a cold day,” Baz agreed cheerfully, nodding their head. They studied the tree Daniel had indicated, humming thoughtfully. “So, that’s how the edible ones look. How do the inedible ones look?” Maybe they’d try for some pine needle tea just once, just to see how it was. Baz was a firm believer in giving everything a go at least a time or two, just to see whether or not it was enjoyable. They didn’t know any other way to find out if they liked something or not. How could they confidently claim to hate something they’d never tasted or experienced? More pressing still, how could they cope knowing there were things they’d not yet done?

That was the core of it, with Baz. They’d spent all their life watching other people experience things that they could only ever try secondhand. Until the day they’d left their father’s house for good, they’d never had anything that was theirs alone — not even a name or a face. How could they not want to try everything, after that? How could they not yearn to know what pine needle tea tasted like, or how it felt to make someone laugh in the middle of the forest with no one else around to claim credit?

They were delighted when Daniel pulled out a worn notebook, leaning in to squint at the random page he’d opened it to. They took a mental snapshot of the handwritten notes, looking utterly fascinated at the peek into Daniel’s mind. “You’ve a lot of information in there,” they observed. “You must spend a lot of time looking into the plantlife here. Is it much different than the plantlife elsewhere? Even putting aside vines that pull people beneath the earth, I know this town is infamous for some of its… more unique quirks. Notice a lot of things like that, have you?”

Their expression remained utterly engrossed as Daniel recounted a few of the teas he’d tried recently, and they nodded along and made mental notes of all of it. “I’d imagine they taste rather earthy, yeah?” They hummed, nodding their head. “You might like them. Maybe I’ll make some for you sometime. I’m not much in the kitchen, but I don’t think they’d let me keep the accent if I couldn’t manage a good cup of tea.” They winked, grinning. “My old flatmate turned me on to a few of them. Earl grey was all my mum, though. Always been her favorite.”

As they walked, the ground around them turned a bit mushier, and Baz made a face. “I’m glad I wore my bad shoes for this. Could you imagine if I’d worn the nice ones? That’d be a right —” They were cut off by a loud squawk nearby. “Oh! Rude bird. Recognize the call at all, Mountain Man?”

—

“Uhh… not like that,” Daniel answered. A really solid answer. He didn’t know how to describe what the other pines looked like off the top of his head. It was one of those things where he just knew when looking at it. And if he wasn’t certain, he could look it up. “Sorry. I know what they look like, but I ain’t know how to describe it right now.” Baz was very inquisitive, which he liked, but he was perfectly fine admitting when he wasn’t sure. He hated when people acted like they knew everything and gave out incorrect information.

“Yeah, I spend quite a bit of time out here, familiarizing myself with the plant life.” He liked knowing what he could about the area. It (usually) helped when answering questions for people. It also allowed him to understand what plants were in which areas. He also needed this for understanding what types of supernatural beasts might be attracted to different types of places. After the vines incident, he made note of that plant for sure. He went back to the area to find any traces of it. All that remained were dead vines that had been cut off from their roots.

“I guess there’s a few odd plants out here,” Daniel replied. Even though he and Baz were both attacked by those killer vines, he didn’t want to talk too much about the supernatural strange things in the town. That could possibly just be explained away as a carnivorous plant. Which reminded him: “A friend and I went to the Wormwoods recently. There’s pitcher plants there, which are carnivorous. They can eat frogs and tiny animals. Never seen one before she and I went there.” He shrugged his shoulders. “All sorts of strange plants around town that I wouldn’t expect to find here.”

Daniel nodded his head at the offer. “Sure, if you ever want to make me some chai, I ain’t gonna turn down that offer.” He was very agreeable to offers of food and drinks from people. It helped that he liked Baz—made it easier to agree to chai. “Agreed. They’d have to take away your accent. It’s like if I couldn’t make southern sweet tea, which is …,” he trailed off, “something unique, I guess.” He chuckled. “It’s black tea with a fuckin’ insane amount of sugar added to it. A ridiculous amount. And you drink it iced. Grew up drinking that all the time in my family.” Except for his mother, who always refused to drink it. “Anyway, they’d take away my accent if I didn’t drink sweet tea.”

Daniel’s hiking boots were covered in layers of dirt and dust from all his time in the wilderness. They were built for any type of terrain, including the muddier sections. He appreciated how they were water-resistant and dried off quickly. Wet boots would be a nightmare for his line of work. He listened to the bird call, and he thought it sounded familiar. “Ain’t a call I’m too familiar with,” he admitted. It sounded off again, and he tried to listen more closely to it. “Not sure on that.” He racked his brain as he tried to think why it sounded familiar to him. “But it is a rude bird for interrupting you mid-sentence. Oughta be ashamed of itself.”

—

They laughed at Daniel’s description — or, rather, lack thereof — of what the inedible pine trees might look like. They could hardly blame him for his inability to find the words, though they couldn’t quite relate to it, either. As both an artist and a poet, Baz tended to find it easy to describe things they’d seen, even if they’d only seen them once or hadn’t seen them in a while. But they understood, too, that not everyone was like that. Baz was a much more visual thinker than most. Perhaps it was even tied to their nature, to the way their body remembered every detail of a person’s face through touch and touch alone. In any case, Daniel couldn’t be faulted for an inability to describe something he wasn’t looking at, and Baz nodded to let him off the hook. “That’s all right. You can point it out if we come across one. Or I can just make sure I’m only making tea out of pine needles from trees just like that,” they grinned, offering Daniel a wink.

Though they weren’t much of an outdoorsperson themself, Baz could understand the appeal of spending time outside. Nature was certainly beautiful, even if their connection to it would never come close to the depth felt by nymphs or nixies. If they didn’t recognize the distinct lack of fluttering in their stomach to mark Daniel as definitively not fae, they might have wondered if he was a nymph of some kind, though perhaps not for long. He had a certain quality about him that fae rarely possessed, the kind of thing that felt much more human. “I think the outdoors suits you, for what it’s worth,” they offered. “You seem to fit in well among the trees.” A nymph might disagree with them on that, of course, but nymphs were rarely willing to accept anyone as belonging in their domains. It was a bit boring, really. Baz couldn’t imagine willingly allowing oneself to be so lonely.

They wondered, not for the first time, how much Daniel might know about the supernatural world. He’d acted quickly enough with the vines, but that might have just been an instinctual thing. Or… maybe supernatural plants were far easier to explain away than supernatural people were. Baz wasn’t certain. They’d been aware of this world all their life, after all; they couldn’t imagine not knowing about the things they knew. “Suppose we’re lucky they can only stomach the small things,” they joked with a grin. “Wouldn’t want to be eaten by a plant. Bad enough to be pulled underground by one.”

The idea of making tea for Daniel was a nice one. If this was an example of Baz familiarizing themself with Daniel’s environment, maybe that could signify Daniel familiarizing himself with Baz’s. Maybe they’d pitch an arthouse for their next hangout, with tea after. (Maybe they could convince Daniel into their bedroom, too. They’d been trying!) “Can’t have that, can we? I’d be nothing without my accent!” Untrue, of course; they lost their accent any time they borrowed a body that didn’t have one, though their dialect and vocabulary remained that of someone who’d grown up in London. “You drink it iced? Feels a bit sacrilegious to me, I’m afraid. Tea is meant to be hot! That’s the point of it!” But they grinned as they said it. If Daniel wanted to make them sweet tea, they’d be willing to try it, of course. But only because they were charitable.

The same could not be said for the bird, who was not charitable at all. They huffed as Daniel admitted he didn’t recognize its call, half-intrigued by the idea of something unknown but half-annoyed at having been interrupted. “I’ve lost my train of thought now,” they admitted. “It sounds close, though. The bird, not my train of thought. That’s gone off to the next station, I’m afraid.” The bird’s call echoed again, closer now. Baz heard a splash. “Some sort of water bird, I assume?”

—

Daniel grinned at their compliment. He always liked thinking about himself as belonging in the outdoors. It felt nice to have someone else recognize that. Sometimes he felt like he viewed this all a bit different from other rangers he’d met throughout his life. Sure, he understood the dangers lurking everywhere—natural and supernatural, but he enjoyed being surrounded by the woods. It didn’t feel stressful for him. The sounds of tree branches and leaves rustling in the breeze relaxed him. Birds chirping. Squirrels running through the underbrush. Deer hopping through the tall grass. Sometimes even the sound of something supernatural could be oddly soothing, especially if he could already tell it wasn’t a major threat. Daniel would let it slide, pretending that he didn’t sense or hear it moving through the brush. Perhaps that made him a bad hunter, not going after something he sensed. But he didn’t plan to go around telling anyone about this. “Thank you,” he replied. “I enjoy it all, really. Being out here each day.” He wasn’t going to mention how he literally lived in the woods too.

“Oh no, wouldn’t want that at all. Barely even wanna be dragged underground by one.” Daniel shook his head. “That was pretty weird, huh? Can’t say I’ve ever encountered something like that.” While he hadn’t encountered that, he had met his fair share of strange supernatural plants in his life. He wanted to gauge what Baz thought about it all. He wouldn’t jump right into talking about the supernatural of it all, but he could maybe skirt around the edges. Figure out what they may or may not know.

“It being iced ain’t the only sacrilegious thing. Like I said, there’s a ridiculous amount of sugar. Might as well be a glass of sugar with some tea. Ain’t ever gonna make you drink that though, but I’m sure it’d be a strange experience for you.” He grinned though. “But you are gonna owe me chai.” Maybe going to Baz’s place could give him more information on them. He was certainly interested in spending a bit more time with them, maybe seeing where an evening or night went, but he needed to be extra cautious in this town filled with supernatural beings. Daniel couldn’t sleep with them unless he had more figured out about them. Even though he certainly thought about it—and the idea crossed his mind again today as they hiked along the trail together.

“Maybe your thought will stay on the train for the return trip. Or it’ll get off at the next station and wait for us there.” Another call of the bird alerted Daniel, and the call sounded even more familiar to him now. The splashing water sounded off right as his body alerted him to some sort of beast nearby. Just great! He hoped that this time Baz wouldn’t have to deal with something supernatural in the woods, but that might not be the case for them. “Yeah, maybe something like a heron,” Daniel commented. Unlikely. He turned his head towards the direction of the noises.

But then large wings flapped in the air above them. Daniel paused to look up at the bird. His eyes scanned its body and the length of its wingspan. Well, it was certainly a water bird but also a supernatural one. The call sounds clicked in his head as he recognized why they sounded so familiar. It was just a creature that he didn’t encounter too often. But he wasn’t worried about it. It was one of those creatures that he wouldn’t hunt unless he felt threatened by it. He doubted the bird would come after them. It wasn’t mating season after all, and it was maybe hunting for a fae to eat. “That might’ve been the rude bird. Looks a little weird …,” he trailed off and paused to think about it, “but maybe a blue heron.”

—

Daniel was certainly in his element out here among the trees and the bushes. It looked beautiful on him, the comfort of being so at ease. Baz often thought so. Someone who was at their maximum comfort level, no matter who they were, always seemed to glow in a way that was almost ethereal. Seeing Daniel like this reminded them a bit of seeing Sebastian with a paintbrush in his hand, or seeing Joel working on one of his sculptures. That was the thing Baz often thought other people didn’t understand so well — everyone in the world was some sort of artist. They just utilized different canvases. And this — the breeze gently blowing through the trees, the soft marshy ground beneath their feet, the animals in the underbrush — was Daniel’s canvas. “I can tell,” they offered, grinning slightly. “That you enjoy it, I mean. You look the part.” They wondered if this was how they looked in the midst of writing a poem, or when they were sketching strangers in the Common. They found they liked the idea of it just a little.

They certainly liked the idea of that more than they liked the idea of running into any more plants that might drag them beneath the surface of the earth, that was for certain. “Barely? Does that mean you do want to be dragged underground by one a little?” There was a teasing lilt to their voice, and they shrugged at the observation that the plants had been weird. “Not the strangest thing I’ve seen in this town, I’m afraid. Though plenty of stranger things were also a good deal more enjoyable. I can’t say I enjoyed our underground adventure much. Even if I did like the company.” They offered Daniel a wink. In truth, most of what they said was a deflection. It wasn’t even an intentional thing, really; Baz danced around most subjects without even really meaning to. They didn’t care to talk about the supernatural, even to someone who knew little of it. If Daniel asked, they’d tell him just as they had Jenny. But Daniel didn’t strike them as the sort to ask.

“Well, I can’t say I’m not relieved to hear that I won’t be expected to try it. I’m all for trying new things, but a person has to have limits! They’d probably revoke my citizenship if I went round drinking American sweet teas. I’d never be allowed back in England!” Which might not be a bad thing, given the fact that England was where their father was and they had little intention of ever seeing him again. “I’m happy to share my chai with you. Maybe I’ll convert you away from the iced sugar monstrosity, hm? I’ll make an Englishman of you yet.”

Chuckling, the doppelganger shook their head. “No telling,” they admitted. “Tends to do its own thing, I’m afraid.” And right now, it was sufficiently distracted by the bird. It sounded both large and close, and Baz watched Daniel to gauge his reaction. He didn’t seem afraid, which was only mostly comforting. Baz knew Daniel was cool under pressure, after all, had seen it for themself when the plants dragged the pair of them beneath the ground. If Daniel had seemed afraid or anxious, it would have been a sure sign that something very bad was on its way. The fact that he was relaxed didn’t mean much, it just meant that this wasn’t the worst case scenario. Baz clicked their tongue thoughtfully. “A heron?”

The flapping of wings above them drew their attention, and they craned their neck to look up at the sky. It was hard to see much of the bird; mostly, they caught its silhouette. It was certainly large, and it could have been a heron for all Baz knew. They weren’t overtly familiar with birds, after all. “Is it really blue? I love it when birds have bright colors. Always feels a bit like a painting.” The bird circled above them, seemingly more interested in the pair of them than it was in flying away. “Oh, looks like it’s taken a liking to us, hm?”

—-

“Aw, you mean you didn’t enjoy getting swarmed by vines?” Daniel joked. He could understand entirely why Baz probably didn’t enjoy something like that, even though he felt a bit of a thrill once he figured out the situation. Something in him enjoyed situations like that when they worked out in his favor. “See, I had all sorts of fun being heroic for you. Rescuing you from the evil vines and thorns.” He winked back at them. “But I think that’s probably the weirdest thing I’ve ever experienced. Such a weird plant.” He decided to move on from that for now, but he kept note that they had experienced other strange things in the town.

“I highly doubt you’re gonna get turn me into an Englishman,” he laughed. “But convincing me to like chai or any other tea will probably work. I’m very open to that.” Daniel usually stuck to his own ways and what he knew. He didn’t like venturing into town too often because he disliked the overwhelming feeling of people everywhere. He kept to the Pines. The forested area felt comforting to him while the the busy town streets and noises caused him to feel more stressed. Somehow a few people convinced him to visit different spots in town, but he still disliked the feeling. However tea? He was open to new teas.

“Not much of a bright blue. More of a grayish-blue,” Daniel answered. The bird above them didn’t really look like a heron, but it was the closest match that he could think of in the moment. Baz seemed to go along with what he said, which made his life a little easier. It was annoying if someone who knew a lot about birds asked questions about a particular supernatural one.

Although he assumed that it would fly away from them, the creature stayed above them. It circled around them, as if it had spotted something. Daniel glanced around the area from the corners of his eyes, trying to figure out if he could see anything suspicious around them. He listened carefully to the sounds of the forest, but nothing stuck out to him as strange. It wasn’t as if he could sense what this creature hunted. He hoped that it would circle around closer to its prey because he really didn’t want to explain to them what this bird was doing. “Yeah, it seems like it has,” he agreed.

The bird swooped down above their heads, and Daniel ducked his head. “You okay?” It flew a little bit in front of them before standing on the trail a short ways ahead of them. The bird stood taller than a blue heron, as it was but a little shorter than both Daniel and Baz. Its eyes peered right at them. He stopped walking and held his arm out to stop Baz too. “Well, that’s odd,” he commented. He knew that mating season should have already ended for it. Maybe climate change impacted its season, extending it further into the fall months. Anything could be true! “It’ll probably fly away soon.”

—

“I can get behind bondage under the right circumstances,” Baz replied with another wink. “Not a fan of the thorns, though. I’m not the sort to take pain with my pleasure, you know.” They much preferred situations like this one, where things were more laid back but they still had ample opportunity to flirt. Although… “You did play the role of dashing hero rather well, didn’t you? It suits you. Next time I’m trapped by evil plants, I’ll certainly be giving you a ring.” They couldn’t help but wonder how much honesty was behind Daniel’s claim, though. They liked humans — sometimes, they even preferred humans to fae — but they could admit that it was a bit cumbersome that they didn’t have the same rather obvious tells for lying that fae did. If Daniel were a nymph, it would be easy enough for Baz to gauge whether he was in pain due to a dishonest statement. As it was, the doppelganger could only take the man at his word.

Daniel being open to enjoying the various teas Baz intended to introduce him to was a good thing; the doppelganger couldn’t help but wonder what else the man might be open to enjoying. The flirting was good fun, but Baz would like to take things a bit farther. After all, they were only human! Or… human-adjacent, as it was. “You know, American southern accents aren’t so different from English ones. They’re typically cited as being closest to a British accent, actually! That means you’re already partway there. Add a bit of tea and a rugby jersey…” They trailed off with a bright grin.

Baz didn’t know any birds well enough to wonder if Daniel was being honest or not, and this one was too far away for them to properly make out the color, anyway. Of course, they were disappointed to hear that the heron Daniel was describing was less vibrant in color than they’d hoped for. “Shame,” they commented. “I like the brightly colored ones. Suppose those are usually more tropical though, yeah?” They felt like they ought to be, at least.

This bird, though, was right at home in the marshy area they’d hiked to, and seemed to have no intention of leaving. Baz didn’t mind it, really… at least, not until the bird swooped down closer. They ducked their head, glancing up to see feathers flying and fluttering before it landed nearby. For the first time, Baz got a good look at it. And it was… a bit more recognizable than they’d have liked.

All fae were sensitive to iron, of course, but doppelgangers had a more… extreme reaction than most. If they so much as touched iron, they’d lose their form for a time. Naturally, that meant they’d made it a point to learn when and where they might come into contact with anything that posed a threat to them. Like, say, a bird with an iron beak and iron-infused feathers.

Immediately, Baz ducked behind Daniel. Their heart was pounding in their chest, nerves shooting through them. “Maybe you ought to chase it off,” they suggested. “Or shoot it! Yeah! You’ve probably got a gun on you, right?”

—

Daniel raised a brow and smirked at them. “You know, I’m big on customer service,” (he wasn’t; he just liked cash tips), “Gotta keep the customer satisfied. So I’ll keep all that in mind. Bondage but no pain. I’m sure I can handle that.” He chuckled as Baz played along with his hero comment. “Of course, darling. Just call me, and I’ll come to your rescue.” Joking and flirting with them was fun for him. He was getting back into the groove of his flirtatious ways, and he liked how it came easy enough with them. He probably would, at some point, take them up on their previous offer of finding out what they offer for free. “Yeah, I ain’t know about getting me into a jersey.” He made a face of disgust at the idea of that. “Guess I can’t be an Englishman.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah, I think there’s a lot more colorful birds in the tropics. But there’s other colorful ones around here too.” Daniel preferred to keep pretending that the bird was a blue heron. The lie was easy enough for him to keep up as long as the bird kept away from them. But the stymphalian bird was very much so not a blue heron. Even looking at it, he knew that it didn’t really look like one. Just sort of, vaguely. Like it could be some really weird messed up version of it.

However Baz’s response to the bird took him by surprise. He didn’t expect them to suddenly go from being intrigued by the idea of a heron to hiding behind him. He absolutely did not expect them to request that he shoot the bird. “You good back there? I ain’t gonna shoot it.” They were right though. Daniel had two guns on him. He could just shoot it—it wasn’t as though he hadn’t killed these birds in the past. “Why you want me to shoot it, anyway? It’s just a bird.” The bird moved closer towards them, seemingly interested in something. If it kept coming towards them, he might just shoot it just to be done with this entire situation.

—

Baz brightened as Daniel seemed open to the idea of… servicing their needs. Perhaps they should have brought up the idea of bondage sooner; maybe then they could have skipped the hike and moved right along to more enjoyable activities. But late was always better than never, so they nodded their head. “You seem like the type of man who knows his way around knots,” they grinned. “Part of the Mountain Man energy, yeah? I bet you’ve got all sorts of fun tricks to show me.” This sort of thing was always fun, the flirting. Baz was best at it when it didn’t mean much. That was how it was with most things, really. Low stakes were where Baz shone the brightest. “Don’t you southerners love your jerseys, too? American football, and all that?”

Colorful birds would have been far preferable to the one before them now, and not just because Baz preferred it when things were pretty. Colorful birds could, presumably, still be dangerous — sharp beaks and talons could be utilized to cause pain no matter what was behind them — but they’d be less specifically dangerous to Baz. And the doppelganger preferred that sort of thing. Better for someone else to share the danger, because then they’d have more of a stake in fighting it. It was difficult for Baz to believe that someone would save them if it was just them that needed saving. People needed extra incentive, needed to share in the danger or know someone better would suffer because of it, too.

They told themself that Daniel’s lack of concern regarding the bird was due to ignorance. They didn’t know what the bird was, and they didn’t know what Baz was, either, so they couldn’t know the threat. On some level, though, they remained uncertain that it would matter. Would Daniel care if he knew the bird was a threat to Baz, and not to him? Some treacherous part of them whispered that he’d leave them behind and just go. “No, I — I really think you should shoot it. It could be dangerous! It’s very big, isn’t it? And it looks a bit angry. Please shoot it?” The bird, for its part, seemed rather zeroed in on Baz. It attempted to get around Daniel, squawking dangerously.

—

“Absolutely part of the mountain man thing. Gotta know all sorts of knots to survive in the wilderness. And for other purposes whenever they come up.” Daniel winked at them. “All sorts of tricks.” He knew his way around ropes and knots for many purposes, and sometimes those purposes came in handy for fun activities with others. Not that he was doing as much with those types of activities these days. “Some southerners, sure. But not me. Never cared for that shit.” He shrugged his shoulders. Sports never grabbed his attention, and he spent his time focused on hunting and whatever his non-hunter friends did. His dad liked watching football and baseball, but Daniel took more after his mom with his lack of interest. It all seemed silly to him. “Don’t ask me nothing about American sports. Can’t help you with any of that.”

Baz’s reaction to the bird confused Daniel. The bird’s actions also confused him because he really couldn’t figure out why it was interested in the two of them. The bird moved closer to them, but it barely noticed Daniel. He tried to wrap his head around why it seemed to ignore him but was so focused on them. Although he didn’t exactly plan to shoot it, he kept his body between the bird and Baz, moving around as the bird moved. “It’s just … um … well, I don’t know what it’s doing. Might be hungry or something.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he paused his movements. He still kept his arms out to keep the bird away from Baz as it hopped and jumped towards them. But he tried to piece together why the bird wouldn’t leave them alone. Why it didn’t just fly away to go find some food somewhere else. Something caught its attention, and Daniel could tell that it wasn’t him. The bird could have easily come after him by now. He glanced back towards Baz. “I’ll shoot it if you tell me why it’s so interested in you.”

—

“I’m sure the other purposes are a bit more fun than wilderness survival, aren’t they? I mean, surviving the mountains is all well and good, but I’d much rather put those skills to use in a more controlled environment.” Survival, of course, was something Baz was interested in, if only because they were interested in the ‘not dying’ bit, but given a choice… well, wouldn’t anyone prefer to use knot-tying skills in the bedroom than in a life-or-death situation? “Just as well. I’ve never quite understood American football. I’m barely a fan of real football. Sports aren’t quite my area of interest.” They’d watch it if it was on, sometimes, but not with any real interest.

At least Daniel was keeping between Baz and the dreadful bird, even if he couldn’t possibly understand why the bird was interested in Baz. This would be easier to explain if they had a better idea of Daniel’s understanding of the supernatural… and how he felt about fae… and a lot of other things, actually. There were too many variables Baz couldn’t account for, too many unknowns floating around. It was impossible to keep up. “Well, I haven’t got any breadcrumbs on me, so I don’t know what it’s after!” They replied, anxiety slipping into their voice. If the bird was hungry, Baz was willing to bet that they looked like a tempting snack. And not in the sort of way they liked to be thought of as a snack!

They groaned as Daniel offered them an ultimatum, hating the idea of it. “How am I meant to know why it’s so interested in me? It’s not as if I speak bird, is it?” The bird shot forward again, trying to get around Daniel, and Baz screeched. “Shoot it first! Then I’ll tell you! It takes explaining, Daniel, and I can’t do much explaining if I’m afraid for my life!”

—

“Right… and it for some reason ain’t interested in the snacks I got in my pack.” Daniel thought through everything he knew about the bird. His mother taught him everything he needed to know about all the different beasts he encountered. He memorized everything, and she quizzed him at random moments to tell her about a random creature that she named. He found it easy enough to remember as much as he could. Of course, the significant details were how to kill everything. Although these days, he much preferred using his gun for a quick kill. The other methods remained in his head, but those took so much time when a quick shot or two finished the job. Along with knowing all the ways to kill beasts, he still remembered other types of information about them to assist if he needed to track them down. Such as their eating habits. If the stymphalian wanted to eat fae, why would he bother killing it if it wasn’t a threat to him or other humans.

But the stymphalian seemed very interested in Baz. Daniel was never one to act too rashly—to jump into a situation without thinking through things first. He calculated most everything he did, from his footsteps when he walked to his hand movements as he spoke. Which is why he didn’t want to be impulsive in their present situation. Even though his mind suspected that there had to be a reason that bird wanted to get to Baz. Of course, he wasn’t an expert by any means in the world of the fae. He understood enough to get him by so he could recognize some suspicious behaviors. His hunts with the Farran family helped him learn just enough information. All of his life he memorized information about plants and animals (supernatural and non-supernatural), so he tried to remember some things about creatures that he didn’t hunt.

Daniel knew that this particular bird ate fae, and he tried to recall what he could about fae. And Baz. Attempted to think if there was anything in particular about them that struck him. They did seem full of themself, so there was certainly that. As the bird jumped forward again, he decided that he might as well shoot it. Maybe they would actually tell him what he wanted to know. “Fine.” The bird was close enough that he didn’t worry about putting together his hunting rifle. He removed his handgun from its concealed holster. “I ain’t wanting to hear no whining if I kill it.” He had suspicions about why the bird was so drawn to Baz, but he also knew that it didn’t technically mean anything. He didn’t want to make that assumption, but their answer that they would need to explain things to him still raised his suspicions. But then again, maybe they had something in their pockets that the bird wanted.

Daniel hated the idea of shooting it, so he fired a shot up into the air first. The sound ricocheted through the woods. The bird jumped back at first, flapping its wings as it moved away from them. He narrowed his eyes at it as he wished it would fly away and find something else. But it stayed there, curiously looking at him now. Before it could make another movement, before it could attempt to strike Daniel, he fired his gun once more, aimed right at the bird’s chest. Another shot sounded off as the bullet struck its neck.

—

“Well, maybe it doesn’t like trail snacks!” Baz knew, of course, why the bird had no interest in Daniel. It was the same reason why their stomach didn’t flutter when he was near, the same reason why they let Daniel believe they were human. Daniel wasn’t fae. Baz suspected that he was human, though they didn’t know that for certain. They could say, however, without shadow of a doubt, that he didn’t have the same quirks they did, could say with absolute confidence that he wasn’t one of the fair folk. That could be used to their advantage here, of course, because it meant that Daniel was in less danger than Baz was, meant that the bird would not attack him. The inverse of this was true, too, of course; Daniel could leave Baz behind and suffer nothing for it. The thought made their skin crawl and their throat ache. They tried to ignore the feeling.

Daniel would not leave them. They repeated the assurance to themself silently, in the privacy of their own mind where the lie couldn’t twist their stomach into knots. Daniel would not leave them, even if they told him they weren’t human. Daniel would kill the bird just as he’d destroyed the roots underground. Daniel would protect Baz, because that was the sort of man he was. The thought became a mantra in their mind, a security blanket they could drape over their shoulders and burrow into as the bird made another pass for them. They would be fine, and Daniel would not leave them. They needed, so badly, for it to be true.

They had never been one to find relief in the presence of a weapon, but the feeling was a crushing one as Daniel unholstered his gun at last. Baz had hardly any familiarity with firearms at all, but they found themself yearning for the sound of a shot fired now, found themself aching for it. Daniel firing his gun would mark Baz as safe, and safe was the only thing they ever really wanted to be. “No whining,” they promised. “You kill that thing, Daniel, and I’ll drop to my knees for you right here and now if you like. Middle of the woods, no problem!” Sex for safety was a simple trade, especially when they already wanted to sleep with Daniel, anyway.

At first, Daniel’s gun shot up into the air, and Baz let out a groan. What was he doing? The bird needed to be shot dead, before it tried taking a bite out of Baz! Luckily, Daniel seemed to get the picture. He fired off another shot, and then another. There was a thump as the bird fell to the ground, and Baz’s shoulders slumped. Finally.

“Right, then!” They clapped their hands together. They’d agreed to tell Daniel the truth if he killed the bird, and he’d done that. Baz might not like it, but being fae did mean they were (sometimes forcibly) a person of their word. “Suppose you’ll be wondering why it wanted to eat me. Bit hard to explain, really. A quick shag in the dirt is still on the table as an alternative, if you’d rather avoid the complicated story!” Couldn’t fault someone for trying, could you?

—

Daniel furrowed his brows as they explained that they would drop to their knees for him if he shot the bird. They were just talking about all the uses for ropes and knots, getting flirty with each other, but he didn’t expect them to offer sex for him killing a bird. Not that he’d mind having sex with them in the woods—not a problem at all, actually! He would enjoy that. But he didn’t feel right about how it was offered. Baz’s offer only made him feel a bit more suspicious about them too. They wouldn’t offer up sex unless they really wanted this bird dead. Even though he knew he could remove himself from this situation and let them defend themself, he didn’t really have that in him. He couldn’t make such a drastic choice and have even more blood on his hands. There was plenty of blood as it was.

As the bird collapsed to the ground, he returned his gun to its holster. He stepped forward to drag it off the trail so it wouldn’t be visible to other hikers. He planned to come back later to better dispose of it so it wouldn’t smell and attract curious people. But Daniel paused in his steps as Baz began speaking again. Right. If he shot the bird, Baz would tell him what he wanted to know. They once again offered sex, and he paused as he thought it over. He could simply agree to sex right then in the woods. Instead of figuring out if they were human or something else, he could ignore all that for sex. It wasn’t a bad offer, and Daniel mulled it over for a brief moment. But unfortunately for them, he was an expert at denying himself anything pleasurable that would make his life more enjoyable. He turned his attention away from the dead bird and towards Baz. “I’d rather hear the long complex story right now. Killing doesn’t really get me in the mood, you know?” (Not necessarily true). “I ain’t never seen a bird like this before, so I’d be fascinated to learn more. About you. And it.” He looked down at the dead bird. “And we’re on a hike, so we’ve got plenty of time for talking.”

—

Daniel paused and, for a moment, Baz thought he might take them up on the more enjoyable of the two offers. It would have been preferable, really, even if this wasn’t the ideal setting for that sort of thing. Baz would always prefer something a bit softer, more comfortable — a bed, a couch, even a floor — but sometimes, you made do with what you had. They were already scoping out the best place to hang their shirt when Daniel spoke again, crushing their dreams of a quick romp in the forest floor and replacing it with the far less appealing prospect of telling the truth. They blew a disappointed huff of air through their nose, trying to figure out the best way to approach this. If Daniel didn’t even know what the bird was, and had never seen anything like it before, it made explaining things more complicated. They’d be opening a door that he might prefer stay closed.

“Well… There’ll be a lot of preamble, in that case,” they said carefully. “And you’ll have to agree not to think me mad. Or at least to try to keep an open mind.” They were careful not to ask for a promise, because they didn’t want to bind Daniel into thinking they were sane. That sort of thing could get all kinds of messy, and Baz would just as soon avoid it. They liked Daniel well enough not to want to break his brain with an accidental promise bind that could affect the way he thought, after all. “Suppose we can start with the bird! A stymphalian bird. Iron beak, iron feathers. Likes to… eat a certain type of person. Which is why it was after me! Which I can get into, of course, but like I said, I’ll need you to keep an open mind, because it might sound a bit far-fetched if you’re not… used to this sort of thing.”

—

“Open-minded,” Daniel said with a nod of his head. He tried to remember all the things he should and shouldn’t say. He decided to go back to being quiet, keeping his mouth as shut as possible. He enjoyed long silences and not talking that much. He knew how to stay quiet in a situation like this where he wanted to let Baz speak and explain the situation. He reminded himself that he needed to act surprised by any of the information they told him. Maybe he could convince them that he had a really good poker face, so he knew how to keep calm in strange situations. Perhaps not too difficult of an idea due to how he responded to the thorns situations with them.

“Bird with an iron beak?” he asked with a raised brow in disbelief. As if to prove it to himself, he squatted down next to the corpse and reached out to it. His hand slid across the dull black beak, smoothed from years of use. His fingers brushed a few roughened spots. “Feels like one of my cast irons,” Daniel commented. He still thought about how he wanted to drag the bird off the trail and stash it in the underbrush. He kept his ears out in case he heard people approaching, in case he needed to quickly move it. Daniel brushed some of the feathers. He contemplated plucking a few to keep with him, just in case. Maybe when he pulled the corpse off the trail, he’d snatch some and keep them in his hiking pack. “As far-fetched as a bird with an iron beak and iron feathers?” He stood up, eyes focused on the bird, before he looked towards Baz. “Yeah, get into it. Why would it wanna eat you?”

—

They studied Daniel as he responded, trying to decide how much to believe him. They were sure he’d try to keep an open mind, but wasn’t that sort of thing easier said than done? If he knew nothing at all about the world, if Baz was the first person to open his eyes to it, it’d be hard for him not to think they had a few screws loose. Things like thorny vines dragging you beneath the earth or strange birds trying to come a bit too close to you in the woods were simple enough, but accepting someone you knew wasn’t human if you lived in a world where human was the only option? That was a whole different sort of ball game.

Baz grimaced at the look on Daniel’s face, because if a bird with an iron beak already seemed odd to him then it was probably a bad sign on how well he’d handle everything moving forward. The doppelganger watched him lean down towards the bird, touch it gently as if to test the words. If Daniel believed only what he could see and touch, did it mean Baz would have to show him some sort of a demonstration? They didn’t particularly want to; when they felt uneasy or uncomfortable as they did now, clinging to Sebastian’s face felt like clinging to a security blanket. They didn’t really want to trade it in for another, even for the second or two that it would take to give Daniel a demonstration of what they were.

They’d stick with words for now, they decided. No need to cross that particular bridge until they’d come to it. Their weight shifted uncomfortably between their feet, and they nodded. “Bit more far-fetched, I’d say,” they admitted. “I’m not exactly… human, you see. The people this bird sees as dietary supplements aren’t people like you. I’m, ah…” They trailed off, eyes trailing down to the dead bird. “Have you ever heard of fae?”

—

Daniel maintained a poker face as he observed Baz. He noticed their facial expressions as they looked at him and answered his question. He watched as they looked uncomfortable to answer the question. It made sense as he knew that he would feel the same if they questioned him about anything that he had done during their encounters. Why did he have so many knives when they were attacked by the vines? Or why does he carry a gun with him? Why did he aim and fire so smoothly at this “unknown” bird? For now, he didn’t mind keeping the attention on Baz to answer his questions. He much preferred to keep all the attention on them and let them do the talking. It made his life easier.

He scrunched up his face in confusion at their answer about not being human. After his whole situation with Wyatt a few months ago, Daniel practiced looking confused by information he already knew. He didn’t want to get caught again. “Not … human?” He crossed his arms over his chest as he looked over at them. “I ain’t heard of … what did you say? Fae?” He realized that he should maybe lean more into this whole confusion thing. Maybe a regular human with his type of personality would have a bit of a different response. He shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Come on, be serious, Baz. Don’t fuck around with me. What are you talking about?”

—

They could see it written all over Daniel’s face. He didn’t believe a word of what they were saying, did he? Sentient vines trying to kill you was one thing, as was a species of bird you didn’t quite recognize with iron feathers and a beak to match, but learning that someone you knew (a friend, maybe? Would Daniel call them friends? Baz was afraid to ask) wasn’t human was another matter entirely. There was no way Daniel was equipped for this sort of thing, even if he did spend a good deal of time in the woods of Wicked’s Rest with all sorts of monsters and beasties. He probably knew other people who weren’t human — most people did, even if they weren’t aware of it — but no one went around advertising that sort of thing, did they? People kept it quiet, kept it secure for one reason or another. The fact that most people wouldn’t believe such claims was one such reason.

Baz sighed, the sound turning into a groan towards the end. “I can assure you, Daniel, this is one scenario where I’m being very serious!” Were they going to have to prove it to him? Swap their face out for another in the middle of the woods? That wasn’t the sort of thing that appealed to Baz, but they weren’t sure there was much of an alternative if they wanted to make out of this without Daniel thinking them mad. (And they did want that, very much so in fact. They liked Daniel. They didn’t want him thinking they’d lost it.) “Look, do you remember those vines that grabbed us up the first time we met in person? Those aren’t normal, yeah? And neither is the bird there. So, is it much of a stretch to think that… other things are real, too?”

—

Daniel rolled his eyes and shook his head. Really tried to make it seem like he didn’t believe them. “Okay, okay. I’ll keep listening. Just … this ain’t making no sense.” He kept his arms crossed and attempted to stay surprised, but he remained on high alert. Baz did not seem dangerous to him. Quite the opposite, actually. He thought about their reaction to being attacked by the vines, with how they let him do all the work to get them out of the situation. He didn’t view them as a fae he should be completely worried about, but he recognized that he didn’t really know. Maybe they were much more lethal and dangerous than he could have expected—perhaps they knew how to keep that part of them well-hidden, hidden enough that Daniel never guessed they could hurt a fly after their time in the tunnel.

He thought about what a regular human would think about what they said. He uncrossed his arms and placed his hands on his hips, and he looked down at the ground while shaking his head. “I guess, yeah,” he responded as he looked up at them. “That makes … I guess that makes sense. The vines was weird.” He ran a hand along his chin. Daniel liked Baz. He thought they were neat (and attractive)! But he only knew what he learned about fae from wardens which meant he steered clear of them the best he could. He recognized his hypocrisy—befriending two shapeshifters even though he was a ranger, but he knew shapeshifters. He understood them on a deeper level (hunting and killing them, of course), so he trusted his abilities to know if they turned dangerous. He did not have that level with fae though; he only knew to stay away from them. “Fine, I guess I … maybe believe you. But what does a fae do? Because right now you look like a human to me.”

—

They could count on one hand the number of times they’d had to explain anything remotely supernatural to a human. Jenny was the only case that really stood out, and she hardly counted. She’d known about the supernatural already, had had experiences with vampires and magic even if she hadn’t quite known how to define the latter. All Baz had done for her was explain a few missing links, tell her about the things she hadn’t heard quite yet. Daniel was different. Daniel didn’t seem to know anything, despite his experience with the vines and the birds. And while a blank canvas was usually the sort of thing Baz enjoyed, they were having a hard time figuring out what to do with this one. They liked Daniel, and the supernatural world could be… dangerous. Messy. Knowing just a little was often more dangerous than knowing too much.

“I don’t know what the vine was called,” they admitted, “but I’m certain it was something supernatural. Normal vines aren’t quite so sentient, are they?” They let out a little laugh, half nervous, half relieved. Daniel was catching on, but of course he’d have questions. Baz wasn’t sure how to answer all of them without scaring him off. And they didn’t want Daniel scared off! They liked hanging around him! They’d have loved hanging around him naked, but they thought that might be off the table now. (Could a human know what they were and still want to sleep with them? Anyone who’d ever known what Baz was and still welcomed them into that sort of dynamic was something inhuman themselves. This, they decided, was something to tuck away and never think of again.) “There are a lot of different sorts of fae,” they replied cautiously. “Some who’d be a lot more at home in these woods than I am.” Being a nymph would have been a bit easier right now; they could have shown Daniel something pretty to prove to him that they were being honest, and he might have accepted it. Instead, they were stuck with an uglier reality. “I’m what’s called a doppelganger. It means I can take on the appearance of other people. Not much use, really! More of a party trick than anything else, yeah?” They swallowed. “There’s other bits and bobs, too. Fae can’t lie without consequence. If I tried telling you a lie, it’d twist my stomach up in knots. All sorts of uncomfortable, really. I try to avoid it.” They preferred dancing around the truth. “And promises! If you promised me something, I could hold you to it. I’d offer a demonstration, but that can get messy. Can get people hurt. And I don’t want you hurt.” They paused again, offering him a small smile. “I don’t want you hurt. See how I can say that? No knots in my belly. Means it’s true, Daniel. I’m not human, but I’m no threat to you, okay? You don’t have to be scared of me.”

—

“No, yeah, vines ain’t usually like that,” Daniel agreed. He listened as they explained information that he mostly already knew, but he kept a sort of confused look on his face as he listened. At least Baz wasn’t trying to hide or deny anything. They couldn’t lie to him, which he had forgotten about until they mentioned how lies affect fae. He was grateful that he didn’t have to deal with not being able to lie—his entire life was built on lies! Sometimes he lied for fun, for absolutely no reason at all. But as he listened to Baz explain what they were, he knew that he really didn’t know anything about doppelgangers. The only thing he knew was what they told them. He only had them at their word that they could not lie and were not dangerous.

He stood in silence for a moment as they finished speaking. He looked down at the dead bird, and most of his thoughts were just about dragging the bird off the trail. Daniel knew that he should probably worry more about the fact that they just admitted to being a fae, but he really wanted to move the bird. “Right, okay,” he said, looking back up at Baz. “That all sounds nuts to me. Honestly. I guess I can believe the vines thing and this bird is strange. But … I mean, can you prove it? Like that you’re something else? Not human?” He already believed them, but he guessed that’s probably what a normal human would say. He also liked that it didn’t seem like they lied about not being dangerous. They didn’t have a physical reaction to the statement, so he hoped that was true.

—

They’d been hoping to avoid hard proof. Of course, they’d been hoping to avoid Daniel ever finding out about this sort of thing at all, because it was easier when people assumed you were human. Baz thought of the warden who had chased them when they first arrived in town, or of the Swedish man who had pinned them against a brick wall and bruised his knuckles against their face. Both were such a stark contrast from the way Daniel had protected them in the tunnels, or the way Talia had killed the reanimated parts for them. And the difference, in both cases, was the assumption of humanity. The warden knew Baz was not human; the man in the alley had known the same. Would Daniel or Talia have stepped in to help them if they had known, too, that Baz was not human? Were they still worth protecting if they were something else?

(They thought of their father, years ago, responding with a scoff when they’d begged him for the simple honor of a name they could call their own. Names are for people, he’d said, not bothering to look at them at all, and you are not that. Would Daniel think of them as a person, still? Even knowing that they weren’t human? Baz wasn’t sure they wanted an answer.)

“I can prove it,” they admitted, somewhat reluctantly. They could shed their face for another here in the middle of the woods. They didn’t want to, but they could. “I don’t… I’d rather not, but I can prove it. Here, or… or somewhere else, if you know of someplace where you’re sure we won’t be seen. It’s… It can be dangerous, Daniel. Being something that isn’t human, it can be dangerous. There are a lot of things that might not make sense about it to most people, and people are never kind to things they can’t make sense of. Do you understand?”

—

Baz acted nervous as they spoke about how they could prove it to Daniel. He thought things through in his head as he tried to decide what he should do at this point. He could keep pestering them to prove that they were what they said, but he already understood and believed them. Deciding that they were not a danger, as they said, he nodded his head. “Okay, Baz,” he said. “I believe you. You ain’t gotta prove nothing to me.” If he had to admit what he was to them, he would feel nervous and uncomfortable too. He understood how dangerous it was to admit to what you were. Even he struggled with telling other hunters that he met during a hunt what he was, because what if they weren’t also a hunter. He danced around his own identity all the time. If Baz was indeed not dangerous, then he was comfortable leaving it at that. He would also need to figure out more about doppelgangers, but perhaps not from them. He didn’t want to keep making them uncomfortable.

Wanting to end the conversation about Baz, Daniel nodded towards the carcass at his feet. “I guess I oughta move this off the trail. No one wants to find a giant dead bird on a hike.” He knew Baz wouldn’t touch it because of the iron, but also he assumed they wouldn’t want to move a dead animal in general. They didn’t seem the type. But he knew how to dispose of carcasses. He thought to himself that if either of the two were dangerous, it was him. He existed to kill. Removing his work gloves from his pocket, he slid them onto his hands and grabbed ahold of the bird’s legs. He dragged it through the dirt path and off the side of the trail. Glancing around the wooded area, Daniel dragged it close to a bush and then covered it with some fallen branches.

As he walked back to the trail, he tried to figure out what to think about Baz now. If he knew something about doppelgangers, maybe he would have a better idea of what to think or say. His lack of knowledge helped in this situation of acting like a confused human. He really didn’t know what to think or say. “Are you okay?” Daniel asked them, not sure of what else to say. “I guess if that bird wanted to eat you, I’ve technically saved your life twice now.” Part of him wanted to apologize for possibly stressing out Baz, but he wasn’t sure how to go about talking about that. He didn’t want to seem knowledgeable about the supernatural world. He worried that an apology would make him seem suspicious in some sort of weird roundabout way.

—

Relief swam over them all at once as Daniel spoke, a cool splash of water on a sweltering day. Baz would have given Daniel his proof if he’d insisted upon it, and there was something a little surprising about the realization. This idea that they liked Daniel enough to take even a small risk for him was a new thing, one they weren’t quite used to yet. For most of their life, the fact that no one else looked out for them meant that Baz looked out for themself first and foremost, never quite willing to take a risk for anyone else. It was scary, the way they weren’t sure when that had changed. Was it with Joel, after the first day they’d latched onto him? With Sebastian, sometime between him pulling them from the gutter and dying for them in the rain? Or had it been born within them when they’d arrived here, in Wicked’s Rest? This town, they were learning, was full of selfless people. Maybe it had infected them, to a certain extent.

“Okay,” they breathed, not bothering to hide their relief. Perhaps Daniel’s willingness to let Baz off the hook as far as proof went was a selfless thing, too. Perhaps he had also been infected by this town, by whatever it had in the water that forced you to care about people, even if only a little. It was a small sacrifice, just as the proof Baz was offering to a secret already revealed would have been, but it still felt nice in the moment. They were not human, and Daniel trusted them all the same. They were not human, and they were still worth this small sacrifice. Maybe they’d be worth a larger one someday, too. (And if they weren’t, they hoped they’d never have to find out. They’d rather not know at all where knowing was a thing that hurt.)

Baz nodded as Daniel insisted that they ought to hide the body, though they weren’t really sure why. To Baz, it mattered very little if the dead bird stayed in full sight of the hiking trail, but they wouldn’t argue. Not when they were still riding the small high that came with the relief of knowing they would neither be judged nor forced to shed their face for another in the relative public setting of the trail. They watched Daniel work without offering to help all the same, though; the thought of offering a hand didn’t even cross their mind. When he came back to them, they offered a small smile. Something in them tightened as he asked after them, and they added it to the imagined column of moments that proved they were worth something to someone, even without humanity to use as a shield. “I’m all right,” they assured him. The easy grin found its way back to their features and they nodded again. “You’re a right superhero,” they said. “You certainly have the build for it. Could buy you a cape, if you’d like. I think you’d fill it out wonderfully.” They paused for a moment. “Uh… Are you all right? I know it’s… a bit to take in.” He seemed to be taking it in stride; maybe Baz was better at this sort of thing than they thought.

—

Daniel still wasn’t sure what he was thinking in the moment. Part of him of course felt some weird sort of concern for Baz having to admit everything about themself, especially as he got to keep his own identity a secret. But he also wasn’t entirely sure what to do with this information or how to treat them moving forward. He wasn’t really wanting to befriend a fae, let alone whatever a doppelganger was. Even as he checked in on their wellbeing, part of him didn’t really want to know. Didn’t need any of that information. He wanted to finish up this situation and move on to something else so he could think about that instead.

“Okay, good,” he replied with a quick nod of his head. “I ain’t know about no cape. Think it’d get in my way.” Daniel meant it as a joke, but his words came across as more monotone than deadpan. He looked over Baz and glanced away towards the trees. He let out a deep sigh and shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah, it’s a lot.” It was a lot, so he was relieved that he could at least be honest about that. “I’ll just … I guess I could believe all this for now.” He ran a head along the back of his neck as he looked down at his boots. “Anyway, I don’t know if you’re still in the mood to keep on with this hike or …” He trailed off to let them make the decision. He was perfectly content to get out of here and think about if he ever wanted to interact with Baz again.

—

Was it desperation or denial that allowed Baz to ignore the shift in Daniel’s tone? Normally, they’d have picked up on it in a heartbeat. They were decent at reading people by necessity, both as someone who’d spent years impersonating people as needed and as someone who’d grown up in a volatile environment with a violent patriarch. You needed to be able to pick up on tonal shifts to know when someone was beginning to suspect that the face you were wearing was borrowed; you needed the same ability in order to know when your father might take a swing at you so you could dodge accordingly. There was no reason why Baz shouldn’t have picked up on the fact that Daniel wasn’t quite as invested in their well-being as he had been before, but they clung to whatever wall they’d built between themself and the truth all the same. Daniel was their friend, and it did not matter that their humanity was a ruse. They told themself this earnestly within the privacy of their own mind until it felt believable.

“Suppose it’d get a bit annoying after a while,” they agreed with a quiet hum, still trying to picture Daniel in a full superhero outfit. “You’d certainly look dashing, though.” Maybe they ought to be checking in a bit more thoroughly, though, making sure Daniel’s brain hadn’t been broken by the truth. “I could show you the ropes,” they offered, a little uncertain. “Let you know what all’s out there. Can’t say I know much about all of it, but I know enough to get by. And it can be dangerous, living in a world you don’t know much about, yeah? I’d like to make sure you’re safe, and all that.” They meant that, though they knew they could hardly offer to protect Daniel the same way he’d protected them. Baz wasn’t much of a fighter; they let other people handle that sort of thing. Their eyes darted to the dead bird at Daniel’s last question, and they pressed their tongue against the roof of their mouth and pursed their lips. “Think the mood’s been ruined, don’t you?”

—

“Thanks. I probably would,” Daniel agreed with a nod. He stretched out his neck and rolled his shoulders, trying to bring himself back into the moment before he knew all of this information. He wanted to try to act the same as before. He never really knew what to do around fae and undead, so he attempted to go back to when he thought Baz was just a normal, regular human. He grinned at them and shrugged playfully. “Maybe a superhero outfit without the cape. I think it was The Incredibles that had that whole bit about capes being killer to superheroes? Don’t think I need all that.”

At the suggestion of Baz showing him the ropes of the supernatural, Daniel kept his face as neutral as possible. He wondered how much they knew about all the different types of creatures and beasts that existed, and part of him wanted to know if he knew more than a fae. “Ah, maybe over a chai sometime?” he suggested. “Think you’re supposed to make me that. Get me to … try new things.” He didn’t know if he really wanted to do that with Baz anymore, but maybe it would be a good idea. Perhaps a way to learn more about what they knew and how their abilities worked. Somewhere that wasn’t a public hiking trail. The idea of being alone with a fae though sort of worried him, but he could bring along some iron to keep himself protected just in case something happened. “Is there a whole lot else besides fae that I gotta worry about?” Daniel nodded in agreement at their comment. The mood had been ruined for quite a few reasons, and honestly, it wasn’t the dead bird for him. “Yeah, that it has,” he answered. “Let’s head back to the parking lot, yeah?” He grinned and laughed lightly. “Hate to think all this keeps ruining nature for you. First the vines and now the bird.”

—

“Oh, I do remember that one!” Baz sounded a little delighted at that. “I’ve always had a soft spot for the animated films — neat to see the different sorts of art styles in te medium, innit? Some of them are a bit mundane, but every now and then you’ve one that pops off.” They were so relieved that Daniel didn’t appear to hate them now that it was easy to fall back into who they’d always been: someone who always talked a little too much. “I think you’d look just as fine without the cape, though. So long as it’s tight enough to show off your abs, yeah? Gotta display your best assets.”

The fact that Daniel still wanted that chai — and for Baz to make it for him — was another sweeping relief. Maybe it was possible, then, for even the most uninformed members of humanity to continue liking Baz even after they’d learned that there was something… inhuman about them. They’d assumed Jenny was a rare exception to the rule, but maybe that wasn’t the case at all. (Should they start telling people they weren’t human to test it? No, right? Probably no.) “Oh, there’s all sorts of things out there. Can’t pretend to be an expert at most of them, but I know the basics. Vampires, werewolves. Whole cast of the Vampire Diaries, really.” Explaining their world through human media had helped Jenny wrap her head around things a little easier, and maybe it would help Daniel, too. (Maybe he was secretly a huge True Blood fan. That’d be fun to learn, wouldn’t it?) “Nature was never going to be my favorite thing,” Baz admitted with a shrug. “Guess I’m not nature’s favorite thing, either. This sort of thing doesn’t happen to you when you’re out and about with other people?”

—

“Ah, yeah, it’s fun to see the different styles. Didn’t watch too many animated movies growing up, but I liked that one.” Daniel really didn’t pay much attention to animation styles. He never thought too hard about art or any of those types of things. He sometimes enjoyed photography as an artistic medium, but he was not any sort of person to pick up on key differences of how animators drew. “Oh, of course. Gotta make sure that my abs and biceps are on full display for everyone.” Part of him almost joked about how at least the superhero costume would keep his scars hidden from view while still showing off his muscles. But he kept that one to himself. Plus, he still found it a bit odd that Baz didn’t have any questions about his handgun. He preferred it that way, of course, as he didn’t want to talk about that whole situation. But they seemed rather trusting of him.

He nodded along as they explained some of the things they knew. “See, if it wasn’t for that bird, I’d really think you was pulling my leg,” Daniel commented. “But, okay, vampires, werewolves … Are there witches too? Never really watched that show but—but I heard about it.” He shrugged his shoulders. “All them supernatural type shows never caught my eye. Maybe they should have.” Whenever he watched any type of show or movie with supernatural creatures, Daniel found himself rolling his eyes at how wrong it all was. Sometimes things seemed a little too correct, as if someone in the production knew what they were doing, but usually he found everything obnoxious to watch. “That’s too bad, but I get it. Ain’t for everyone,” he said. “No, no, cain’t say I’ve ever experienced anything like that. It was … odd. I don’t,” he frowned for a moment, “I don’t know.” He wasn’t really lying to Baz right then. As far as he knew, he had never defended a fae from a beast before them, and he really didn’t know what to think about it all.

—

“I always liked to see what different people could do with it. And how the animation serves the story, too, of course. In the perfect animated movie, the style is informed by the narrative.” They could have gone on about for ages, could have talked Daniel’s ear off about how fascinating they found the idea of using the way a story looked to benefit how it was told. Maybe it was no real surprise that Baz was fascinated by that particular aspect of animation; after all, they were someone whose appearance was chosen based on their surroundings and experiences, too. Even more so now that they used Sebastian’s face as ‘theirs.’ “It would be a disservice to hide them,” they agreed, letting their eyes linger on Daniel’s abs and biceps in turn in a way that was very intentionally not subtle.

Seeing really was believing, for most people. Baz didn’t know how someone could even begin to explain the supernatural to someone who’d never seen any of it, and they weren’t the sort who’d ever try to do so if only because they were far too lazy to try. Maybe it was a good thing that Daniel knew now, that he’d seen for himself. Maybe it was a bad one. That probably stood to be seen. “Oh!” Baz nodded. “Yeah, witches. Think they prefer to be called ‘spellcasters,’ though. Don’t know much about their sort of magic, if I’m being honest. But they’re human. Just… human with a bit of a kick to them, I suppose.” They hummed, shrugging a shoulder. “I’ve a friend who’s into a few of the shows. I’ve seen some of them, but they tend to be a bit inaccurate. Not the sort of thing to base your beliefs on. Fun to watch with a bit more knowledge, though!” It was entertaining, sometimes, seeing just how much humans got wrong about the world they were a part of. “You seem to suit it well,” they offered, because Daniel did seem very at home in the woods. Even without knowing what he was fighting, he’d found a way to take down the bird before anyone got hurt. That was an accomplishment. “Well, I suppose I’m happy enough to be your first time, then.” They winked. “And… happy that no one got hurt.”

—

Listening to Baz talk kept Daniel from thinking too hard about the whole fae thing. It was easier to listen to them go on about animated movies, and he enjoyed the distraction from his mind. “Ain’t thought that much about it myself,” he commented. “You know a lot about animation? Or, uh, do you got a lot to do with animation or art?” He wanted them to keep talking, to keep saying whatever they wanted about whatever topic. He could find a way to ask his stupid questions while they chatted. But then their eyes scanned over his muscular build, and he forced a flirty grin in return. Just earlier they joked about bondage—just earlier he almost chose to just have sex rather than confirm they were a fae. Yet now he wasn’t as certain about all that. Maybe once he figured out more about doppelgangers he’d come back around to the whole knot-tying idea. Maybe some chai could change his mind.

“Spellcasters, okay,” he said with a nod. “At least now I know that I oughtn’t call them a witch, if I run into one of them next.” They continued talking, and he listened to each word they said, focusing his attention on them rather than letting his mind wander elsewhere. He watched the expressions on their face as they spoke, letting himself keep his eyes distracted too. “Good to know though. Probably ain’t gonna do much watching of them though. But if I do, I’ll know it’s all nonsense.” Daniel walked along the familiar trail and grinned at their next comment. “Thanks, yeah.” He almost commented something about how crazy it was that he never encountered anything strange before then, but he guessed that maybe that’s what led Wyatt to figuring him out. He would keep his mouth shut for the most part now. “Thanks, great first time,” he laughed. “Glad we both made it out safe.”

—

They shrugged in response to the question, looking a little thoughtful. “I don’t have much experience actually animating things,” they admitted. “Not really my area, you know? But I know about the styles. I’ve read up on it a bit, I suppose. I like… learning about things like that, even if it’s not the type of knowledge I utilize. I guess I just like knowing things.” They flashed a grin at that. It was only true in regards to art, really; Baz wanted to know everything there was to know about art, about which they were passionate. But other things? Hard truths that would hurt, or things that would prove worldviews they’d adopted as their own to be wrong? Baz didn’t want to know anything at all about that sort of thing. There were some situations where ignorance really was bliss. Having all the information was more of a hindrance than a help, in their experience. For example, they could easily ignore the way Daniel dropped the subject of their flirtation, could easily pretend it was simply because the topic of animation interested him far more than the other. It meant not acknowledging that Daniel had seemed interested when he thought them human, but not as interested now. Baz was a big fan of ignorance, really.

“Some of them might be fine with it,” they replied with a shrug. “I don’t know any, so I’ve no one I can ask. Oh, but you definitely can’t go round calling fae fairies. I know for certain that that one’s a no-go.” Baz themself disliked the term, though not to the same extent many fae did. They’d known a nymph just outside London who’d take it upon herself to kill anyone who referred to her as a fairy. Bit extreme, in Baz’s opinion, but who were they to judge? “Yeah, not what I’d recommend for research. Don’t know what you could use for research, really. I think experience is your best bet. Just… careful experience. Don’t want you running off and getting yourself eaten, yeah?” Or winding up in a hunter’s crosshairs. Or getting stuck in a fae deal. Or… the possibilities were a bit endless. Humans were fragile things. Baz had never worried much about it before, but they were a little worried now. Baz offered Daniel a grin, nodding their head. “Yeah,” they agreed, “me, too. Now, what do you say we get out of here, yeah? Before that bird starts to smell.”

—

“Fae, not fairies. Got it,” Daniel replied. Easy to keep track of when he already knew that. “So you’re fae but also a doppelganger.” He needed to do more research on doppelgangers to fully understand what they were. Baz’s description helped him a little bit, but they approached the conversation as if he was learning about supernatural for the first time ever. He guessed that he could ask Eve or inquire around with some wardens at the 3 Daggers. From there he could figure out what to think about Baz—not fully knowing left a bad taste in his mouth.

Daniel chuckled and nodded his head. “Getting myself eaten? Oy vey. Already gotta beware of hungry bears, so I’ll add ‘weird birds and the like’ to my list.” Baz was also now on his list of creatures to watch out for in Wicked’s Rest. He wasn’t going to hunt them, obviously (he’s not a warden), but maybe he’d keep tabs for any sort of suspicious behavior. See what all he could learn about them. But he still didn’t understand why he protected them from the stymphalian bird, why he didn’t step aside to let the bird have a go at them. For years now, he struggled with the whole killing aspect of his life. Even killing the bird almost felt wrong to him. He didn’t like thinking about those feelings around killing though. They brought up memories of death that he preferred to push aside in his head, to pretend that those memories didn’t exist. With his memories trapped in the corners of his mind, he wouldn’t have to think about why he didn’t let the bird eat Baz or why he fired into the air to scare it off instead of simply shooting it first.

“Yeah, let’s get outta here,” Daniel agreed. He wiped his hands off on his pants, even though he wore his gloves to move the bird, but he still felt like he needed to clean his hands after that whole experience.

“So, what type of knots can you tie?”

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