#developing friendship

“Oh, um. It looks like they checked themself out of the hospital after making a statement to the unempowered authorities… It doesn’t look like they broke covert although the report does suggest the assailant was empowered…”

David felt sick, teeth too long and hand shaking around his keys. It was too much information at once, all tossed out carelessly by this desk clerk on the phone like none of it even mattered. Hospital. They had been taken to the hospital? What the fuck had happened? And who had mugged them? And why, in the hell, did this asshole think David gave any fucks about covert?

“How injured were they?” he interrupted. They’d been taken to a hospital, but they seem to have left on their own. David wanted to find comfort in that detail but he couldn’t, because he knew for a fact that Babe could and would push through pain and illness. They would sooner walk home with a broken leg than ask someone for help and risk being a burden.

Fuck! Now he was worried they were walking around on a broken leg.

“Um… It looks like they were treated for some cuts and scrapes. There’s a note about a possible concussion but the doctor didn’t seem overly worried.” And the empowered clerk on the phone didn’t sound worried either.

“Cuts?”

“And scrapes.”

David ground his teeth. “What makes you say the assailant was probably empowered?”

“Oh. There’s a note about them being bitten. They kept their story pretty vague though,” he sounded pleased and then huffed a smile. “The unempowered doctors gave them antibiotics in case of an infection.”

David hung up. He had to. If he didn’t, he would somehow kill this person through the phone. He immediately dialed another number, sliding into the driver’s seat of his truck. He put the phone on the dash and started the engine. It didn’t take Milo long to answer. “Boss?”

David hesitated just when he was about to speak. Babe was pack but they were human and they were so private.

“David?” Milo was louder, closer to his phone and focused with concern.

“I’m going to need your help, but I need you and Stealth to keep it quite.” It never even occurred to him to ask Milo to keep anything from his partner.

“There was an incident with Babe. I’m headed to their apartment now. I need you to find out everything you can from the department.” He took a turn and pulled into an alley beside their building, not caring if he was in a loading zone.

“Yeah. On it. Are they okay?”

“I don’t know,” he said without thinking and froze just as he was getting out of his truck.

He didn’t know.

His instincts raged, his wolf rolling under his skin. He didn’t know. A member of his pack—the most important person in the world to his best friend—and he had no idea.

“I’ll get back to you.” He hung up and used Asher’s spare key to get into the building. He couldn’t wait for the lift, taking the stairs two at a time. It wasn’t until he was in the hall that he knew something was wrong, something other than everything else wrong, but he couldn’t put his finger on it until he was at their apartment door.

He knocked, but already his stomach was twisting because his senses told him they weren’t there. Not only was their apartment empty, but their scent was so faint in the hallway that he knew they hadn’t been there in hours, probably not since they left for work that morning, definitely not with any cuts.

Cuts.

Bites.

His skin crawled and he wanted to growl and whine at the same time. He needed to see them. He needed to know how bad this was and do everything he could to fix it.

He scrolled his phone numbers and tried to call them. It went immediately to voicemail.

“Fuck,” he pushed the heel of his palm against his temple. Did they even have their phone? Where would they be?

He could have the pack find them. If they fanned out, they’d have them in no time. But then he would be making this moment, this day—their day—pack public. And he didn’t know yet if that was okay with them.

Asher hadn’t called him yet. Which meant, either they were on the phone with him right now, or he didn’t know yet.

David needed eyes on Babe. He needed to be able to tell Asher he was looking at them and that they were okay, or he would lose his mind.

He tried to think up places Babe would go on his way down the stairs.

Where would he go if he was unempowered and recently attacked by a vampire? They’d called it a mugging. Had the biter really robbed them? He flipped his keys against his palm but stopped one step toward his car. The hospital wasn’t far from here. Even on foot, even slowed by injury, they would have been there by now. So, if they didn’t go home, where did they go?

He called Angel to ask if Babe had come to their place. No. Angel had questions, but David promised to explain soon and they promised to call if they heard from Babe until then.

His phone rang almost as soon as he hung up.

Milo.

David answered.

“Are they okay?”

“I don’t know,” he ground out again. “They aren’t at their apartment.”

“What?”

David looked up and down the street. It was getting dark. “Was their phone stolen?”

“No. It was broken. They were on their way home from work, just got off the subway—”

David pivoted, looking in the direction of their stop.

“In their statement to the cops, they called their attacker a biter at first—said he cornered them before they could get out of the underground station and took their jacket and their bag. They didn’t have any money or cards on them so they must have left the hospital on foot. They can’t have gotten far.”

“Did they have their keys?” David started walking toward the subway station.

Milo was moving on his side too. “It didn’t sound like it.”

If David was in Babe’s shoes, he would just want to go home. He would want to be in his own space with the door locked. But if they didn’t have their keys, they couldn’t get home. They could, of course, call him. He had the spare. But he wasn’t sure they would even if they had their phone.

He descended the steps into the subway.

“I can start at the hospital and track them.”

“Are you at the hospital now?”

“I’m on my way.”

“Good.” David hung up just as the call would have cut out anyway. The air was colder underground, the lights yellow and the hallways echoing with the hum of a passing train. The afterwork crowd had thinned out and it wasn’t quite late enough for the party crowds.

He hopped the entrance and shivered when he inhaled their scent.

He wasn’t sure he’d be able to explain how relieved he felt when he saw them standing there on the platform. They looked awful. Their pants were dirty and their shirt bloodstained and torn. He’d never seen them even mussed let alone a complete mess before. One hand clutched at the bandage around their wrist, squeezing as they frowned and stared, seeming to scrutinize the tracks.

For one horrific second he thought they were going to jump. They kept cutting glances up and down the tracks and shifting their weight where they stood at the edge.

“Babe.”

They jumped and spun around too fast.

He closed the distance and caught their hands in both of his to tug them that one step forward, away from the edge.

They stared up at him, one eye blood-red where it should be white and their cheekbone bruised in dark purple clouds. Their jaw was scraped up like they’d landed on the ground, matching their scabbed palms in his hands. “What are you doing?” David asked, trying so hard to keep his voice low and soft—trying not to growl or yell because of the fear that had built in his chest from the moment he heard their name on that call.

“Oh,” they exhaled and their shoulders dropped. They looked down at themself and flushed. “Sorry. It’s been a bad night. I was mugged but it’s fine.”

They didn’t know he knew about that. “It doesn’t look fine.”

They turned toward the tracks again. “I kicked my keys when he went for them and they went down there… If he got my keys he could be at my place and if he didn’t, well, I need them.” Their voice was tinny, carefully logical but fragile in that desperation.

David nodded, still holding onto their hands and very gently drawing them another step away from the tracks. “I’ll look.”

Babe exhaled hard and shook their head, wincing at a pain in their body and stopping short in the gesture. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll find them. You’ve probably got someplace to be.”

David stared at them. Was it shock or did they really think he was just passing by? He folded their hands inside of his. This was the first time he’d ever touched Babe. Pack was very physical but David had never been good at building those relationships. With other wolves, it was easier. It was simpler. With the non-shifters in the pack, it had always been so much harder. He knew now that he’d made a mistake when he thought that was okay—that he didn’t need to build on those bonds as well. Babe was looking at him like a work associate being nice to them on a rough day. It was polite but unexpected and certainly unnecessary. They expected nothing from him.

“I don’t have anywhere to be. I came here looking for you,” he said, their hand spasming in his.

They looked down at their joined hands for the first time, as if just now registering the contact. And then their eyes widened and their face shot up to seek his gaze again. Their words rushed out of them. “I didn’t break covert.”

It was a gut punch.

They pulled their hands out of his and took a step back, chin pressing high as they tried to stand taller. “I would have let you know after… After I got home. I just…” They looked over their shoulder at the tracks and their lost keys again, frowning.

David nodded. First problem first. He could do that.

He stepped around them and up to the edge of the platform, eyeing the shadows until he spotted the bundle of keys on a ring. He jumped down.

“Be careful!” Babe rushed to the edge.

David could hear the trains and knew exactly how long he had. He snagged the keys, pocketed them, and jumped back up onto the platform. He was just turning them toward the exit when Milo came down the steps, slowing and stopping at the sight of them.

“Hey,” he said to Babe, gaze flicking over the state of them.

David heard the way the other wolf’s pulse quickened, the edges of rage tucked behind his teeth.

Babe sighed, shoulders drooping as they started up the stairs. “I guess this is a thing now.”

Milo frowned and turned to follow them. “How was this not going to be?”

David shot him a warning look but Babe didn’t wither under the badgering tone. They sighed again, a little groan of annoyance now. They were slow on the steps but neither shifter was going to rush them.

“I mean, I figured I could go home and clean up before it had to be public knowledge that I got mugged. Asher is going to be—” They stopped and swung around.

Both shifters stopped, arms out to stabilize them if they were falling over.

“Does he know? He’s going to panic and think I died.”

David blinked at the rush of words. He shook his head. “Not yet. I wanted to talk to you first.” He really just wanted to see them—to be able to tell his best friend that they were in one piece and breathing.

Babe sagged in relief, nodding, almost slumping into the railing with the weight of it. “Good. Good. Just, let me clean up and I’ll video call him. That’ll be better.”

David wasn’t sure it would be, but he nodded.

Babe started the upward march again. David had never realized how many fucking steps their were until he watched this human drag themself up each one. He could swear he could hear Milo’s teeth grinding on the effort not to pick them up—the same as his.

“Do you know who it was?” David asked, trying to distract all of them while getting a little information.

“What?”

“The biter,” Milo helped.

Babe jerked a little, free hand flying to the bandage on their wrist. “I’m not going to turn am I?”

Milo laughed.

David groaned. “No. Asher really needs to take you to those classes…”

They exhaled tired relief. “Never saw him before. He cornered me and tossed me around. Bit my wrist and then laughed. He wanted my stuff, my phone, my keys, and my wallet.” They swallowed, looking up at the last stretch of steps.

David squeezed his fists until his fingers popped to resist scooping them up.

They continued to walk. “But my phone was busted from his initial attack and the keys I’d kicked. The next train was coming in. He took all my cards though and said…” Babe stopped then they reached the sidewalk atop the steps. They took a deep breath.

“Said what?” David asked.

They opened their eyes and looked at him, not seeming to know what he was talking about at first.

“What did the vampire say?”

A shudder rocked them when they remembered and it was like watching a person remember to be afraid. “Oh.”

“Babe?”

They looked up the street toward their building. “He said he’d see me later.”

Milo growled low in his chest and David felt relieved at the sound if only because it was the echo of the one he was holding back.

Babe looked at them both. “He didn’t mean it though, right? I mean, that’s just something someone would say to scare. There’s no reason for him to bother with me again.”

David frowned. “You don’t need to worry about it.”

Babe nodded like he was agreeing with them, relieved and started down the sidewalk.

David tipped his head toward Milo, who hadn’t moved a muscle. “Find him,” David growled. “Get Darlin to help you and hunt him down. I want him in pieces in a box by morning.”

Milo nodded once and was gone.

David joined Babe, close at their side but not quite touching, always ready to catch them or buffer anyone else out of their way. It was one of the longest walks of his life but they both sagged in relief when they reached their apartment door. For a second Babe thought they’d lost their keys again, until David pulled them from his pocket and unlocked the door.

“You don’t have to stay,” they said when they were inside.

He shut and locked the door. The lock was just for them. Nothing was getting past him.

Babe let out a little laugh. “I’m going to clean up, okay? I’ll call Ash after that. Just… Just wait, okay?”

David nodded and stayed in the living room when they headed down the hall to their bathroom.

He kept his senses focused on their breathing, hearing it even through the shut door and the spray of the shower. It took everything he had not to move when they started crying. They needed that moment alone and he wasn’t going to take it from them. He was going to pretend he hadn’t listened, even if he was, even if he had to just in case they passed out.

He texted Angel to let them know that he had found Babe, everything was okay, but he’d be over at Asher and Babe’s for a while.

-

Babe tried not to cry. Really they did. It was stupid. It wouldn’t help anything. Oh god but it had been such a bad night. They’d been so scared and then so embarrassed and now they were a mess and they’d have to call Asher and he’d feel terrible and the whole pack knew and it was going to be a big deal and how could they even convince anyone it wasn’t when their face looked like that!

They stripped down and bunched all their clothes into a tight ball, cramming them down into the trash and then tying off the plastic bag and throwing it into the corner. They felt like a mess. They felt out of control and like everyone was looking. It made their skin hurt.

They showered, trying not to wallow and take too long because they knew David would still be out there. Poor guy was stuck having to sit in their living room, thinking they were falling apart. If they could show him they were fine he’d probably feel okay to leave.

They cried some more in the shower, hoping to get the last of it out. They cleaned up, dressed in some soft sweats and a hoodie with long sleeves. Their palms throbbed, the scrapes deep and matching the ones on their jaw. It was going to look even worse tomorrow. And their eye… they could barely look at it, the white gone red.

When it was as good as it was going to get, they marched back down the hall to their living room. David wasn’t there. Their heart lurched but just as soon as they’d started to panic that they were all alone, they found him in the kitchen. He had the fridge open but had stopped to stare back at them. “I forgot that living with Ash, there’s never any leftovers.”

They exhaled, letting some of the strain in their chest go with that breath. “Yeah. I can make you—”

He shot them a look that was between outrage and shock. “I’ll make us something. What do you want?”

“Oh. You don’t have to.”

“French toast, right?”

Babe stared at him, the sleeves of Asher’s hoodie bunched up in their palms, pressing into those scrapes. “What?”

“When we do pack get togethers overnight and make waffles or pancakes in the morning… Ash always asks for French toast,” he said as he pulled the eggs and milk out and then found a loaf of bread. “He never used to ask for French toast. He has a whole thing about pancakes being superior to all other breakfast options. He started asking for French toast when you joined.”

Babe felt heat rush their face and something ease in their heart. They sank into one of the bar stools at the kitchen counter, nodding. “Yeah.” They loved French toast.

David nodded and then took out of phone and waved it over his shoulder. “Do you want to call or do you want me to?”

Tears stung their eyes. It was stupid. Everything was fine and they just needed to let Ash know that.

They held out their hand and David passed them the phone.

It wasn’t hard to find his number and it only rang a couple times before that voice they’d been missing so much picked up.

“Hey buddy. What’s up?” Asher sing-songed, thinking it was David calling.

He was on some trip to meet and get to know other packs on the continent, a gathering out in the wilderness to build relationships. Baby sighed.

The levity was gone from his voice. “Babe? What are you doing on David’s phone?”

How the hell were they supposed to say this? “Everything is okay. Everyone is okay. I just… My phone is broken.” True but not all of it. They closed their eyes. “I got mugged in the subway and my phone got broken. David had to walk me home.” Nope, not quite. “There was a police report and I had to go to the hospital, but I’m okay and I didn’t break covert or anything.”

The pause seemed long even if it was only seconds. “Oh Baabe,” he said so gently that their heart melted. “I’m so sorry. You’re sure you’re okay? That must have been so scary.”

They exhaled so much relief, dropping their head forward onto their folded arm on the counter. Thank god he hadn’t freaked out. They weren’t sure they could handle that right now. They just wanted normal. “It was but I’m okay.”

“You’re home now?”

They nodded and then remembered they had to actually say it. “Yeah.”

“You’re so fucking tough, Baabe. I’ll be there in the morning.”

They sat up, dragging a breath. “You don’t have to—”

“You know I’m coming home. Really, you’re giving me an excuse to do exactly what I want, which is to come back to you. So just hang tight, okay? Order delivery or something, sleep in, and I’ll be there when you wake up, okay?”

Babe hummed something close to a yes.

“David’s there?”

“Yeah.”

“Can I talk to him? I’ll be home soon, okay? I love you so much, Baabe.”

“I love you too,” they said and then held out the phone.

David took it and held it to his ear.

-

David turned back toward the eggs.

“Who?” There was no smile or light-heartedness to Asher’s voice now.

“Milo’s on it.”

“How bad is it?”

“Not bad.” He couldn’t give him details without Babe overhearing. “I’ll text you.”

“Broken bones?”

“No,” he was fast to answer that.

“Unempowered?”

“No.”

Asher growled.

“Milo’s on it,” David reminded. “I’ll have it for you when you get here.”

“David…” Asher started, human voice shuddering with the effort to stay in that form when probably his whole wolf was trying to shift out and run.

“Anything,” he said.

“Just… stay with them until I get there? They’re tough but…”

David nodded. He’d never intended to go anywhere. “We’re making French toast. We’ll be here when you get back to town.”

Asher grunted and hung up. It wasn’t like him to be short on words but David understood.

Babe had their head in their arms again. “You don’t have to stay,” they said as soon as he started cracking eggs. “I’m probably just going to sleep.”

“Great. Then I can pick what we’re watching.”

Babe lifted their head and looked at him before relenting with a nod. “Sure. You’re a good friend. Asher’s lucky to have you,” they said, voice quiet with the soft compliment.

It made his chest swell but his brow pinch. “You’re pack, Babe. Yes, you’re Asher’s mate, but you’re also pack.” He sighed. “You should have called me from the hospital, not because this was some sort of trouble you needed to report but because you needed help.”

“I didn’t.”

“You could have used help,” he reworded for them and felt the echo of his words in words spoken to him by Asher in the past. “You could have called any of us. You don’t have to call me if you don’t want to, but Milo or—”

“My phone was broken.”

“There are phones in the hospital. You know you could have called… and I know why you didn’t. But you don’t need to need us to call us. It’s okay to just want us to show up.”

They pressed their lips, thinking about it.

He cracked another egg. “And stop worrying about covert.”

They looked up. “But you worry about covert—”

“Yeah. It’s my job to worry about it on behalf of the pack. You don’t need to give a shit about it. When someone hurts you, all bets are off, and I will handle everything else.”

Babe blinked at him and then finally asked. “The vampire isn’t going to come back for me, is he?”

David huffed, looking for the cinnamon on the shelf. “No. You don’t ever need to worry about that.”

Babe sighed and nodded. “Thanks.”

But he'd hesitated too long. As she fiddled with the fishing pole setup, she caught sight of him. "Hey," she called, smiling. "How's it going?"

He thought about turning around and heading deeper into the forest without even responding, but his conscience got the better of him. Damn. If she'd just given up after his initial rudeness, if she hadn't helped him find Jas that day she'd run away, he would've been able to walk away, free and clear. But she didn't deserve his attitude after all that.

He could still try to get out of this, though.

"Hey," he said, pointedly ignoring the question. "I can find someplace else."

"There's plenty of room," she said, as he'd known she would, and patted the dock. "If you can pay the tax, of course."

He could still say no, thanks. He almost did. But he was having an okay night so far. He had beer. Lydia had proven to be a good distraction. If any other thoughts tried to form inside his thick skull, her chatter would probably disperse them instantly.

"Tax?" he asked, and started down the dock.

"Beer," she said, pointing at the six pack. "I only brought water, which was really shortsighted of me, considering."

He pulled one of the cans off the plastic ring and tossed it to her as he approached. She caught it out of the air, grinning openly now.

"Considering what?" he asked, sitting down at the dock's edge.

"Considering how long I'm going to be sitting here," she said. She cracked the can open, took a sip, and let out a long sigh. "Damn, that's foul."

He snorted. "Fresh from the JojaMart shelf."

"Stick the rest in the cooler," she said. "Maybe ice will improve the flavor."

Despite her complaints, she took another sip. He opened up the cooler and shuffled around the contents to make room: a couple of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, a bag heavy with sliced pink melon, and another one stuffed full of grapes. There was another empty cooler on the dock beside the first.

"If you don't like it," he said, "I'll take it back."

"No, no. The foulness is part of the charm. Reminds me of college." 

She put the can down and fiddled with the fishing pole again. There were a number of lures and bobbers attached to the line. She peered over the dock's edge, into the murky water of the pond.

"So it's eight-thirty on a Friday night," he said, popping open one of the cans, "and you're…fishing."

"Yep," she said. She cast the line, a little hesitantly, and not too far; it only landed about a dozen feet from the edge of the dock.

"Do fish even bite at night?"

"Willy claims that special fish bite at night. I'm going for the midnight carp."

"Midnight…carp," he repeated. "Never heard of it. You sure Willy isn't pulling your leg?"

She chuckled. "Name five fish."

"What?"

"Name five fish," she repeated. "I'll wait."

He shot her a glare; she stared back, one eyebrow cocked. "Salmon," he said. "Tuna. Catfish. Bass." For a moment, his mind went blank, stuck trying to load, but then it spat one more fish forth. "Regular carp."

This time, she snorted a little when she laughed. "Okay, fine. You know some fish after all. But just because you haven't heard of a midnight carp doesn't mean it doesn't exist."

"Sure," he said.

She pointed at him. "You'll see. Give it a couple of hours, and I'll have one to show you."

"A couple of hours?"

"What, you got places to be? Very important things to do?"

"It's just a lot of waiting."

"That's why I brought snacks," she said. "And flagged you down, so I'd have company."

She peered out at the line. She didn't give him a significant look, or anything. To him, though, it was significant. There weren't very many people in this town who would flag him down just for the pleasure of his presence—exactly as he'd intended. Emily was nice, but she was nice to everybody. Penny talked to him once in a while, about how Jas was doing in school. But he hadn't made any overtures to the people here when he'd arrived, and they'd steered clear of him, too.

He didn't want to be known. He didn't want to be doing…this, this exact thing he was doing right now. He wanted to be left alone. He deserved to be left alone.

But he didn't get up and leave. He told himself he would, told himself to do it, but none of his limbs moved, except to bring the beer up to his mouth to take a deep drink.

It would be worse later. That was the thing that he knew to be true. If he accepted these couple of hours of companionship now, it would open the seal on all the adjacent memories he was struggling to keep contained. He was too weak to keep a lid on that, and too weak to walk away now.

"You okay?" Lydia asked, like she'd seen some shadow of these thoughts on his face—or like she was thinking about the last time they'd shared a drink on this dock, and all the stupid shit he'd said, the festering wound he'd let out to breathe.

He wasn't going to bring that up again. He couldn't completely shrug her off, either. She had a habit of digging if the brush-off was too interesting. 

He tried a decoy. "I just gave forty more hours of my life to Joja, so," he said. "Not exactly jumping for joy."

"Ugh." She pulled a face. "Morris was in Pierre's again the other day, waving around his little coupons, luring shoppers away. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm not over the moon about Pierre's prices, but it's just so underhanded."

"You think that's bad, you should see him when he really gets into it with Lewis," Shane said. "He's going to wear him down eventually. Lewis is actually a human person, even if he takes his job way too seriously. Morris is a JojaCaf-fueled robot. He'll never give up."

Lydia laughed. "Does he hook himself up to a coffee IV in his office? Is that why his voice is always so loud?"

Shane found himself laughing, too. Not hard, not at all. But some kind of sound of mirth did come out of his face. It sounded rusty and unpracticed, and it was instantly followed by guilt. But the image she'd conjured stuck with him, regardless.

"He might never give up," Lydia said, unearthing one of the sandwiches from the cooler, "but Lewis is more dug in than you think. As long as nobody else buys a membership, Lewis won't sell the community center."

"Everybody else in town must have one already. Except Pierre's family, I guess." He looked at the mulish set of Lydia's mouth. "And you. Of course."

She huffed. "Yes, of course. I burned my membership card when I quit. I'm not about to go crawling back now!"

"No, you're too proud for that," he said, for all the world like he knew her.

"Thank you for recognizing the truth," she said, nose in the air, all dignified, and grinned.

The longer he knew her, the more he recognized the differences between her and his dead best friend. Patrick would have been a little bit more of an asshole about his comment; he hadn't liked being accused of being too proud, too stubborn. Lydia brushed that kind of thing off like it didn't matter to her.

Too late, he realized he'd allowed himself to open the can of worms he'd been trying to keep closed. It was a short step from thinking about Patrick to thinking about what Friday nights had once been like: pickup gridball after work; greasy takeout afterward that they brought home to share with Charlotte and Jas; games with the kid until she got tired, and then movies afterward, whatever dumb thriller was on cable, maybe something rented at the video store.

It had been so routine. It had been so fixed. For so long, they had only added, never subtracted: Shane and Patrick became Shane, Patrick and Charlotte; then became Shane, Patrick, Charlotte, and Jas.

"Something I said?" Lydia asked, in a more somber voice, cutting through the excruciating whirlwind of his thoughts.

He took another deep gulp of his beer. He'd overshared last time. He didn't want to do that again. He didn't want her, or anyone, to see how much he was suffering. He didn't want anyone to see him. He didn't completely understand why.

But she knew about Patrick and Charlotte already, something that couldn't be said of anybody else in the valley, except Marnie and Jas. What was he afraid of? Driving her away? Wouldn't that be for the best?

"Sort of," he said. "You just remind me of Jas's dad sometimes. Patrick. He was a huge goofball, too."

She snorted. "Thanks. I think."

"It's a…compliment."

"Thanks, then," she said. Still watching her fishing line, she asked, "What was he like?"

No one had asked him that, he realized. He hadn't given anyone the opportunity. In Pelican Town, only Marnie knew what had happened, and she tread on eggshells around the topic—afraid to set off Jas, afraid to set off him, in different ways.

He opened his mouth to say I'd better head home and instead a flood came out.

"He always had to be the funniest person in the room," he said. "And he usually was. It seemed like he had a thousand friends. He made connections with people so easily. Even back then, I wondered why he bothered with me." He took another drink from his beer, finishing off the can. "But eventually I realized he wasn't actually close with all those people. He was kind of a social chameleon. With me and Charlotte, though, he was just himself. Not perfect. But funny. Good at gridball. Good taste in movies, sucked at video games. Kind of a sore loser, but he'd make it up to you later—get your favorite takeout food for you without having to be asked, buy the next round, that kind of thing."

He crushed the can, willing himself to be silent.

"Sounds like he was a good friend," she said, and before he could tell her not to bother with stupid platitudes, she said, "but just to warn you, I'm great at video games. All games, actually. So you're not getting any easy apology takeout from me."

He laughed. It didn't sound as rusty and awful this time; it had been surprised out of him by the vague inappropriateness of her comment. Someone else might have taken offense. But Patrick had loved trash talk—just another way for him to run his mouth. 

"Sounds like something a sore loser would say," Shane said.

"You, me, Journey of the Prairie King," she said grimly. "We'll see who's—oh, shit!"

The line had gone taut. Hastily, Lydia fumbled for the fishing pole and started to reel the catch in. It fought her—Shane found himself holding his breath as she let out the line and reeled, let out the line and reeled—but eventually a strange purple fish flopped up on the dock, scales glistening.

"Midnight carp," Lydia said, breathless and triumphant, with a challenging look at Shane.

"You can be a sore winner, too, you know," he pointed out, but without any of his usual ire. He stared, incredulous, at the fish. It was beautiful, eerie, alien. It had a bioluminescence, a bizarre glow. It was like nothing he'd ever seen before.

It had been a while since he'd felt awed by anything.

"All right, pretty thing," Lydia said, and with a quick motion, pulled the hook from the carp's mouth. "Sorry about this—I'll make it quick."

Shane wasn't squeamish. He'd grown up visiting Marnie in the valley; he knew the necessities of country living. He still felt sad, though, when the bioluminescence faded from the fish, no matter how gently Lydia placed it in the empty cooler. It had been so strange and wonderful, and now it was dead.

"Shame," she said, softly, like she was thinking the same thing. "But…they're overpopulating this pond, Demetrius said. Better to curb that now, before there's any other consequences to deal with."

"Wonder what caused the overpopulation," Shane said.

"Demetrius didn't say," Lydia replied, but her eyes flicked over to look at the crooked tower to the west of the pond, the light high up toward the peak, glowing green, then blue, then purple. She clearly had a theory of her own. "Gus promised he had a recipe for these, though. They won't go to waste."

She reset the line, but Shane decided he'd had enough for the night; he got to his feet. In a way, he liked the odd melancholy that had overcome him in the last few moments—but he didn't want company for it.

"Leaving so soon?" she asked.

"You've seen one midnight carp, you've seen 'em all," he said. He reached into the cooler for his beer, tore two off the six-pack, and left them in the ice. "Tax paid. See you later."

"Thanks for stopping by," she said, and raised her beer to him as he turned away.

At the path, just when her lantern light was about to vanish behind the trees, he looked back. Her fishing pole was set; in the light of the lantern, he saw her rummage around in her backpack and pull out a book. With a last glance at the line, she opened the book to a point maybe a third of the way through and propped it in her lap, taking a sip of the beer he'd left her.

She'd brought her own entertainment to while away the hours. She'd flagged him down, anyway. She looked so complete, there at the end of the dock in the bubble of lantern light, one foot dangling down to dip her toes in the water—like she existed inside a snowglobe, frozen in time. Like he had never been there.

He thought, again, about the midnight carp, the glow to it, the incredible depth of its color. Patrick would've loved it. Less so the killing, but he could imagine the wild theories Patrick would've thrown around, the conspiracies about the wizard's tower. Shane could hear the crazy possibilities that Patrick and Lydia would have come up with together, like they were standing on either side of him, talking over him.

He had not imagined much of anything, lately. It made his throat ache, his eyes burn. But where had imagination gotten the midnight carp? It looked like magic, and yet, it died like any other fish.

“Sorry.” someone mumbled to his left - it was Albert Hickling. Of course it was Albert Hickling. For over four years he had tinkered with his own inventions, putting spells on them to make them do all sorts of unimaginable things. Never before, though, had he done anything with an alarm clock. 

“It wasn’t meant to do that, I thought I had bewitched it to transform into a duck every morning so I could have it in my bath.”

“What?” Either Ominis was still too groggy from sleep, or it was the silliest thing he had ever heard. 

“It wouldn’t be a real duck, of course!”

“Never mind that, could you just make it stop?” he said, because the alarm clock was, in fact, still ringing. 

“Oh! Sorry.” Hickling mumbled again, fumbling with the noisy gadget for a good couple of seconds before it finally became quiet. 

Ominis rolled his eyes. Idiot, he thought as he dragged the covers over himself again. 

It wasn’t until he heard Hickling leave the dormitory a moment later, that it occurred to him that none of the other boys had woken up. Sebastian, he knew for a fact, was a heavy sleeper, and could sleep through most things - though something as loud and obnoxious as that alarm clock would surely have woken anyone up. As for Everbleed, he hadn’t learnt what type of sleeper he was - but even if he was a heavy sleeper as well, there was no reason why he shouldn’t have woken up. 

Ominis regretted that he hadn’t asked Hickling what time it was when the clock had rung - if he had, he would have known now, if it was a time in the morning when the boys would normally be in bed. 

Lifting himself up to his elbows, he called out for Sebastian but got nothing in response. It was awfully quiet, now that he thought about it. On most mornings, he could hear faint snoring coming from Sebastian, but right now, the room was completely silent. 

“Sebastian? Are you there?... Everbleed?” Still no response. Ominis frowned. Normally, he and Sebastian would wake up at roughly the same time, a consequence from sleeping in the same room since they were 11, he was sure of, then Everbleed would slowly start to wake up, and eventually the three of them would go to breakfast together. But now there seemed to be only him here. 

A voice in the back of his head told him that the two of them had gone on without him - but he tried not to listen. After Sebastian had talked to him on the bridge last week, Ominis had been under the impression that things had gone back to normal between them - but now he wasn’t so sure anymore.

He let his arms fall to his side and his head was once again reunited with the pillow. He sighed, but found that when he did, his chest ached a bit, so he brought his hand up and clutched the fabric of his pyjamas, right over his heart. As he did so, he thought about how pathetic he was, and that it made perfect sense that Sebastian would want to abandon him. 

He closed his eyes shut, hard, and wished that he could just fall back to sleep, but he knew there was no way he could do that now. Not with all these thoughts filling up his entire mind. Things will be all right, he told himself, I will be all right. 

...

Sleep had, unbeknownst to Ominis, swept him away an hour later, easing his mind as well as his body. When he came to, it was because he had, for a second time that morning, been woken up. 

“Are you still sleeping? You’re going to miss breakfast if you don’t get up soon.”

Ominis could only respond with a sluggish ‘Mm’ for he was too tired to be able to make a, perhaps more coherent, response. 

After a moment, he heard his stomach rumble as hunger overwhelmed him, and he woke up more and more. When he eventually sat up in his bed, stretching his arms over his head, the thoughts that had occupied his mind earlier came back and hit him straight in his gut. Breakfast didn’t seem so inviting all of a sudden. 

“You wouldn’t happen to know where Sebastian is, would you?” he asked before he even realised it. 

“No, but I heard him and Kieran early this morning, talking about Feldcroft. They seemed to be in a hurry.” 

The answer threw another punch to his gut and he felt sick. He was sure he would have thrown up, if it wasn’t for the fact that Hickling was in the room. 

“I thought it was strange that he left without you.”

‘Left without you’ The words echoed in his mind, taunting him, cutting him. ‘Left without you’ He could feel the bad taste in his mouth as the words only grew louder. ‘Left without you’ He ran out of the dormitory, running like a wild beast that had been let loose. … Then he fell and hit the floor, and everything came all at once - the vomit, the tears, the blood. 

...

For a third time that morning, Ominis was woken up. This time, however, it wasn’t whilst lying in bed - but on the cold stone floor of the common room, and not when he had been asleep, but when he had been unconscious. 

Everything was a big blur to him. His head throbbed violently and he felt dizzy. He could hear rushed murmurs coming from all directions, but he couldn’t make out any of the words over the ringing in his ears. Someone shook him by the shoulder, calling his name, but Ominis just lay there, unable to produce any sort of response. Then he could feel a pair of arms picking him up, and a warm body against his own. In the state he was in, he couldn’t understand anything that was going on. 

...

He felt something soft touch his back and he realised that he must have been laid down. No more than a second later someone’s hand was on his forehead, then at both sides of his head, prodding at him, wiping at his face. He could hear a woman muttering to his side, but her words weren’t any clearer than the voices earlier had been - these, too, were rushed. Then, before he could even register it, his back had been lifted up and something was placed in his hand to hold. Ominis blinked, still feeling very out of it. He heard more muttering, and the next thing he knew, someone grabbed the object from his hand, brought it up to his lips, and then a nasty liquid hit his tongue. He wanted to spit it out immediately, but found that whoever was feeding him this liquid was still pouring it into his mouth, making it impossible to do so. 

Whatever it was that he had been forced to drink, he felt an instant effect from it as soon as he swallowed it. The throbbing in his head died down to a level where it was almost completely gone, and his ears no longer rang. The woman spoke to him again, and this time Ominis could hear every word. 

“Mr. Gaunt? This is nurse Blainey - you are in the hospital wing. It seems you fell and took a blow to your head.” 

As he registered her words, Ominis brought his hand up to his head, and frowned  - he couldn’t remember falling and hitting his head. 

“It’s best if you stay here for a couple of hours, so I can keep an eye on you. Now, be still, so I can put this on you.” 

He didn’t know what ‘this’ referred to, but felt the matron’s hands on his head again, apparently putting on some sort of bandage. 

“Do you remember how this happened at all?”

“No.” he replied, his voice coming out slightly hoarse. 

“Your prefect, Mr. Hickling, arrived with you in a hurry, just moments ago. He told me he saw you running out of the dormitory looking sick, and that when he heard a commotion in the common room he went to see what was going on. That’s apparently when you had hurt yourself.” 

The matron finished wrapping him up and said “You don’t have to remember now, it will all come back to you after you’ve had some rest, so don’t strain yourself. Now, if you would be so kind, Mr. Hickling…”

Ominis hadn’t realised Hickling was still in the hospital wing with them. 

“Of course, nurse Blainey. Ominis, I shall leave you now. Hopefully you’ll feel better soon.” 

Ominis made his second incoherent response to Hickling that morning, but it was the best he could do - he was still trying to understand why the other boy would have shown him such kindness.

“Oh, I almost forgot, nurse Blainey, Ominis hasn’t eaten his breakfast yet…”

“Why didn’t you say so? Tsk, tsk, tsk. Here I was, giving him medicine on an empty stomach…. Oh well, best call for the house-elves, so they can bring some food up then.” 

...

The rest of the morning and afternoon went by faster than Ominis thought it would, considering he was meant to spend it in a hospital bed. He had managed to rest for the most part, albeit shorter periods at a time, and the rest of the time he had spent listening to nurse Blainey moving across the room, tending to other students. At some point Hickling had come back with his clothes and schoolrobe so he could change out of his pyjamas. 

Later, when the matron finally came to remove his bandage, she announced that he was free to go, and Ominis felt relieved. 

“Be careful not to make any sudden head movements though, and should you feel anything at all, come back and see me again.” 

“Of course, nurse Blainey-” he said, and started stepping away from the bed, but realised soon that he was without his wand. “-My wand…” 

“Oh, it’s right here, dear-” she handed it over to him, placing it in his hand. “-Mr. Hickling brought it with him when he dropped off your clothes.” 

“Ah… thank you.” he managed a smile, and then proceeded to walk away from the bed, and out of the hospital wing. 

...

As soon as Ominis reached the Grand Staircase, he was overwhelmed with loud voices. All around him students were chatting away with their friends, talking about what they had been up to during the day, and what they planned to do tomorrow. Some students, further away from him, mentioned being in Hogsmeade, eating and drinking at the Three Broomsticks. A group of girls talked about how they went down to Lower Hogsfield and what a lovely little place it was. 

It all made Ominis feel like he had been stuck in a sort of hazy dream the entire day - coming in and out of consciousness, and not really knowing what had been going on for the most part. He had missed out on a whole day he could have spent doing the things the students around him had done. But it was just one day, he told himself, no matter. It’s not like he normally spends his free days visiting Hogsmeade or the neighbouring hamlets, anyway. Nonetheless, a sense of gloominess washed over him as he descended the stairs towards the Reception Hall. 

A waft of delicious food reached Ominis’ nostrils as the doors to the Great Hall opened and closed by students coming in and out, and the gloomy feeling turned to hunger. It felt to him like no time at all had passed since the house-elves had brought him breakfast. Here I go, eating again, he thought to himself. All he had done this day, so far, had been eating and sleeping. 

...

Dinner had been exquisite. All the things Ominis loved tasted particularly good this evening - the roast chicken was juicier, the sausages fattier, and the roast potatoes crispier than ever. He couldn’t think of a time when he had been this full - not even on his very first day as a first-year. 

I wonder if I still have room for some dessert? But it probably won’t arrive any time soon, he thought as he rubbed his belly. Though I might as well stay here for a while, I’m too tired to go anywhere at the moment. He let out a content sigh, but was interrupted halfway. 

“You look like you swallowed a dugbog - were you that hungry?” It was Sebastian.

 Ominis was just about to give a snarky retort when suddenly there was a strange feeling in his head. It didn’t hurt, exactly, more like it made him a wee bit dizzy. He shut his eyes, but when he did, memories of the early morning came back to him - very fast, and very vividly, and he felt increasingly dizzier. He didn’t even notice nearly falling off of the bench, until a pair of hands steadied him. 

“Don’t touch me.” he spat out instantaneously. 

He was met with something he could only assume was a stunned silence. Then, whilst still a little shaky, he stood up and began to walk away, bumping into Sebastian on purpose. It didn’t take long, however, until Sebastian’s hand was on his arm, trying to stop him. 

“Ominis? Wha-”

“Don’t talk to me.”

“Did something happen?” 

Ominis ignored the question at first, just puffing out air, shaking his head in disbelief, trying to convey the message that he was upset. Then he grabbed Sebastian's arm forcefully and dragged him to the side of the hall, where they could have some privacy. There, he answered the question with a question of his own.

“What do you think?” he said through gritted teeth.

“Well, you’re obviously upset, I can see that.”

“How observant of you, anything else?”

“You’re being really snappy towards me.”

“Oh, yeah?” 

Sebastian sighed, and after a couple of seconds said  “Why are you being like this, Ominis? If I did something to offend you, just say so.” 

“Offend me?” he huffed loudly. “I think you would know for yourself if you had done something to offend me.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Exactly what it sounds like!” 

“Okay, so I have offended you? When exactly?”

“You haven’t offended me Sebastian, you’ve hurt me!” he yelled out, tears starting to form in his eyes. “Are you really that oblivious?”

“If you’re talking about the Undercroft again, I’ve already apologised for that-”

“That’s not what this is about!”

“Then, what is it about?!”

“Everbleed!” he practically screamed out, tears now streaming down his cheeks. 

“What does he have to do with this?”

“Everything! He’s got everything to do with this, can’t you see? You spend so much time with him, you barely have any left to spend with me anymore! And as if the Undercroft thing wasn’t bad enough, you even bring him to Feldcroft to meet Anne? You didn’t stop to think that perhaps I wanted to go meet her again? That I, who happen to actually be her friend, would be happy to hear her voice again? No? Did it never occur to you?!” 

He fell backwards against the wall, shaking with uncontrollable sobs, feeling utterly miserable. 

“Am I not your friend, Sebastian? Do I mean that little to you?” 

Several seconds passed in a suffocating silence, and he thought that this had to be it - the moment he would lose his most dearest friend. He knew that if Sebastian didn’t want him anymore, things would go back to how they were before they were friends, before he got to Hogwarts. He would be on his own again, the only company the one found in solitude. But he didn’t want that, he didn’t want to go back to being all alone, with no one to talk to, or to laugh with, or to create memories together with. But that had already started to happen. It started on the very first day of their fifth year. A tear in a bond that he thought was so strong that nothing could break it, but has just kept on growing. 

“Ominis…” Sebastian’s voice was not more than a breath of air, and Ominis could barely hear it over his own thoughts. “I am sorry. I am truly sorry… I didn’t know you felt like this. You know you mean a lot to me-”

“No, Sebastian, I don’t.” he cut him off quietly, and Sebastian sighed. 

“You and Anne are the most important people in my life; I wouldn’t know what to do without either of you.”

“Then why didn’t you let me come meet her?”

Sebastian sighed once again, and took a step closer. 

“What you have to understand, Ominis, is that there are bigger things going on. War is almost upon us and goblins are terrorising people everywhere. There’s not a single hamlet that is safe anymore, especially Feldcroft. It’s just a matter of time before they curse someone from the village again, and I just don’t want that to be you.”

Ominis closed his eyes. He just didn’t want to hear it. 

“You don’t think I can handle my own.” 

“That’s not what I said, Ominis.”

“But I know that’s what you meant. You didn’t want me there with you to slow you down, so you brought Everbleed with you instead - perfect little Everbleed who can defeat a whole troll on his own.-” He pushed himself off of the wall, and stepped closer to Sebastian, stopping right in front of his face. “-Isn’t that right?” 

A few silent seconds passed. 

“You’re being ridiculous.” Sebastian said and moved away. Ominis clenched his jaw. 

“I’ll leave you alone then, if that’s what you think. I have no interest in being here anyway.” 

He didn’t get very far though, before Sebastian said “Before you go, I want to speak to you about something else, if you care to listen.” 

Ominis made no sign of moving, and Sebastian continued “You remember me mentioning Salazar Slytherin’s Scriptorium, right?-” 

“-I’ve already told you how I feel about that.”

“Yes, well, I hoped you could give it some more thought. I believe, if we were to enter the Scriptorium, we could find something that could provide us with useful information about a cure for Anne.” 

Ominis clenched his jaw harder. 

“That Scriptorium means only bad things, and I want nothing to do with the dark magic that lies within it-” 

“-Even if it means finding a cure?” 

“I will not change my mind on this matter! Anything to do with the Dark Arts should be avoided. It’s too risky.”

“Anything to do with Salazar Slytherin is worth the risk.”

“I can’t agree, and I’ll not say a word more. I’m sorry.” 

With those final words, Ominis walked away from Sebastian - his head pounding and his heart aching. He couldn’t even be bothered to care when he realised he had collided with Everbleed, he just wanted to get away from the Great Hall as fast as possible. 

...

It was cold in the dormitory, where he lay in his four-poster, thinking hard on everything that had transpired that day - first hitting his head, then spending the day in the hospital wing, and lastly, everything that had gone down between him and Sebastian in the Great Hall. Perhaps he hadn’t lost his most dearest friend that day, but he wasn’t sure how much longer it would take before their bond would eventually break.