#meah

"There!" Ellen gasped, grabbing Aaron's sleeve and nearly yanking him off his feet.

Light reflected on the sidewalk ahead. The Venus Café, as its painted sign read, still had its interior lights on. Through the windows, Aaron could make out small tables, chairs stacked on some of them, and some movement.

Someone was still inside.

The shadow behind them reached an arm out.

They didn't knock. Ellen hit the door at a run, Aaron half a step behind her, and they tumbled inside in a heap of gasping breath and sweat. The bell above the door gave a cheerful jingle that felt absurd given the circumstances.

"We're about to close-"

The man behind the counter had been wiping down the machines. He'd turned at their entrance, dish towel still in hand, and for a moment, his expression flickered from surprise into something harder, more alert. His hand had moved, Aaron noticed, toward something beneath the counter.

Then Ellen found her voice again. "Please- please, we need help, there's something…"

The man's posture shifted. The wariness didn't disappear entirely, but it turned into something else. He set down the towel, and when he stepped out from behind the counter, Aaron had to tilt his head back to meet his eyes.

The café owner was absurdly tall, taller than six feet, and in the warm lighting, he looked like something that had stepped out of a Raphaelite painting. Ageless in that uncanny way some people managed, with a face so immaculate it could have been porcelain. Makeup, Aaron realized, despite how light it was, caught the light as he moved.

He was beautiful in a way that made Aaron forget, just for a second, about the thing outside.

"What's chasing you?" the man asked, his voice cordial, almost gentle, as if people burst into his café fleeing for their lives on a regular basis.

"The- the shadowman. He's outside and-" Ellen started, but couldn't finish.

The man's gaze moved past them, to the windows, to the door they'd left hanging open. The darkness outside had grown thicker, as the boogeyman took his palpable form. Aaron and Ellen watched the café owner's expression, waiting for fear, for confusion, for something that made sense.

Instead, the man sighed, like this was an inconvenience rather than a lethal threat, and walked past them to the door.

"Sir, don't-" Ellen tried.

But he was already stepping outside, his upper half disappearing in the doorway, backlit by the café's warm glow, staring out into the night.

Aaron could see the shadowman walking slowly towards them, surely confident that he could get rid of the café's owner with ease.

The café owner put his hands on his hips.

"No," he said firmly, like he was addressing a badly behaved dog. "Shoo. Go on, get out of here."

He waved one hand in a dismissive gesture.

The shadowman stopped and looked up, and even if neither Aaron nor Ellen could see his face, they could tell that he was annoyed.

The café owner stepped forward onto the street, and his voice dropped lower, losing some of its cordial warmth. "I said no. You know better. Out."

For a breathless moment, nothing happened, as the shadowman seemed to consider the orders. Aaron's heart hammered against his ribs, and Ellen grabbed his arm so tightly it hurt.

Then, against all expectations, the shadowman made a disgruntled noise, loud enough for Aaron and Ellen to hear, before turning around and walking back into the night, before quickly disappearing completely.

The café owner watched for another moment, arms crossed, then stepped back inside and closed the door. He locked it with a loud click, tested the handle, and turned back to them with that same gentle, cordial expression.

"There we are," he said pleasantly, as if he'd just taken out the trash. "Now then, are either of you hurt?"

The two younger adults stared at him. Aaron's mouth had gone dry, while Ellen still had a death grip on his arm.

"I'm Dove Chastain," the man continued, apparently unbothered by their shock. "I own the Venus Café. I take it you two aren't from this part of town?"

"I- we-" Ellen seemed to physically shake herself in order to answer. "Thank you. Thank you so much, we thought-"

"That you were going to die?" Dove's smile was sympathetic but matter-of-fact. "Yes, well. That's why people don't usually wander around the savage quarter after dark." He glanced between them, taking in their disheveled appearance, the way they were both still shaking. "You can't go back out there tonight. Things will be waiting."

"We don't have anywhere to go," Aaron admitted, his voice hoarse. "We were just trying to- I mean, he was following me, and Ellen got caught up in it, and-"

Dove held up a hand, silencing him gently. "It's alright. You don't have to explain everything." He moved back behind the counter, pulling out two clean mugs. "Take a seat anywhere you want. I can make you a quick drink."

"Cocoa," Ellen said faintly. "Please."

As Dove began preparing their drinks, Ellen guided Aaron to seat down on the couch closest to the counter, as her friend tried to process what he'd just witnessed. The way Dove had simply… ordered the shadowman to leave. And it had listened. That wasn't how things usually worked.

"Here." Dove set two steaming mugs in front of them, the hot chocolate smelled incredible, before he pulled out a stool for himself to sit down. "I have an apartment upstairs. Once you've caught your breath, I can take you up there. The couch folds out into a bed. You'll be safe until morning."

"Why are you helping us?" The question escaped Aaron before he could stop it. "You don't even know us."

Dove's expression softened into something that might have been sadness, though it was hard to tell. "Because it's the rational thing to do," he said frankly. "And because no one should have to face something like that alone."

Ellen wrapped both hands around her mug. She'd gotten her breathing under control, but Aaron could see her mind working, trying to fit what they'd just seen into some kind of rational framework.

"You must have dealt with a lot of dangerous situations," she said carefully. "Working in this part of town. My boss's friend, Theron, he was a cop for a few years, and he also had that kind of… problems."

It was a generous interpretation. A kind one, even. Aaron could see the lifeline Ellen was offering Dove, a reasonable explanation that didn't require acknowledging whatever the hell had actually just happened.

Dove's smile was enigmatic, but he didn't contradict her. "Something like that," he said. "I've been running this café for a long time. You learn things."

"How long?" Aaron asked, because the tall man in front of him didn't look much older than Aaron himself.

"Some years." Dove stood, collecting their mugs even though they'd barely touched their drinks. "Come on. Let's get you two settled upstairs. You both look like you're about to collapse, and I imagine you have a lot to figure out in the morning."

After leaving the mugs in the kitchen, he led them to a door at the back of the café, past the storage, to a narrow staircase. As they climbed, Aaron glanced back once at the windows. Normal darkness now, empty of malice.

But he couldn't shake the image of Dove standing in that doorway, tall and impossibly calm, waving away something that could have easily mawled him.

Ellen caught his eye and gave him a little nudge on the shoulder, as if to say 'let it go'. But he knew she was just as baffled as him.

Dove Chastain was not a cop, former or otherwise. He was not a normal citizen of Mayweather, no matter how cordial his smile or how perfect his hospitality or appearance.

He was something else entirely.