#mutlichapter

Aelin scanned her room for the hundredth time.

It was perfect, and yet, she felt like something was missing, felt she was forgetting something. It was her first night of parent-teacher conferences, and she wanted to make sure that everything was perfect. Not only did she lay out treats for the parents and her students, but she also decorated her dry erase board and put together packets of all her students’ school work along with little notes to her students’ parents.

It was her first year at a fantastic and highly regarded school. She wanted the parents to like her, wanted a future in the district.

She was so nervous she felt the need to puke.

The only thing keeping her held together was the fact that her night would end with a visit from Rowan for Ollie’s conference. He would be bringing her tacos from her favorite taco truck as celebration of surviving her first round of conferences.

If she did survive.

She also had to meet with Maeve, so the chances of her survival were quite a bit lower than they would have been if just Rowan was coming for Ollie’s conference. Thankfully, she wouldn’t be alone. They’d be attending together.

It had been tough, explaining to Ollie why he couldn’t bring up Aelin being at their house so much. They’d finally convinced him that her visits were a secret and if anyone but the three of them found out, Aelin couldn’t come over anymore. It of course wasn’t true. But they weren’t ready for Maeve to know yet.

It was just after six when her first student came in, dragging her mom and dad by the hands. Turns out her only moment of peace was when she was making sure her room was perfect. After the first student came in, it was one after the other. For two hours, she talked about how good the students were, then the stuff they could work on, then she would answer a million questions, and then she would have five seconds to catch her breath before the next family came in.

She was counting down the time.

And her nerves were worsening.

As the clock approached 7:45, her door opened and Rowan came around the corner, Oliver and a bag full of tacos in tow.

“Hi, Miss Aelin!” Oliver beamed. “Mommy will be here soon. Me and daddy just ate soooooo many tacos.”

Aelin laughed quietly as she caught Oliver in a hug. “Well, we will wait for your mom before we get started.”

Rowan was frowning when he set the bag of food behind her desk and sat in one of the chairs opposite of hers. He gave her a smile but it didn’t reach his eyes. Having Maeve there was worse for him than it was for Aelin, by far.

The hate between them ran deep.

Oliver didn’t seem to notice, bless his heart. Aelin knew Rowan did his best not to let his feelings for Maeve influence Ollie’s, but sometimes it was hard.

He was regaling Aelin on their dinner and definitely over exaggerating how many tacos he ate when the door opened behind them.

Maeve stood there, iced coffee in hand, her egregiously expensive purse slung over a shoulder.

“Ms. Mallory, hello,” Aelin said, standing from her chair.

“Hi, mommy!” Oliver said, hopping up from his desk

and running over to him. She squatted down and caught him, hugging him tightly.

Standing, she looked at Rowan. She gave him a saccharine smile. “Hi, Ro.”

Aelin could see Rowan’s guard go up at the use of the familiar nickname.

“If you’d like to take a seat, we can go ahead and get started,” Aelin said, gesturing to the seat next to Rowan.

Rowan stared at a spot on Aelin’s desk.

Maeve watched Aelin the entire walk from the threshold to the empty seat. She pulled Oliver onto her lap.

“So, tell me all the good things about Oliver,” she said. It wasn’t her words, but her tone that sent chills down Aelin’s spine.

“Well, he’s a great student,” Aelin began. “He always does what’s asked of him and never gives me any issues. He’s ahead in both reading and writing, and right where he should be with math.” Aelin opened his folder and took out his test scores. Before she could say anything, Maeve snatched the paper out of her hands.

“Great,” she muttered. “Anything we can help him with at home?”

Rowan rolled his eyes, but it was so subtle that Aelin was the only one that caught it.

“Work on addition,” Aelin suggested. “He does well with it, but he could always use the practice. Even when eating breakfast, he can be adding up his cereal pieces.”

“Cereal,” Oliver grinned, with a hungry look in his eyes. Aelin had no idea how he could be hungry if he had just eaten twenty tacos - which is how many he’d told Aelin he had.

Maeve was flipping through the tests and asked, “Shouldn’t you be the one to teach him addition better?”

Aelin blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Well, you’re his teacher,” she said, holding his test scores out for Rowan without even looking at them. “We can quiz him on spelling and colors, but ensuring he’s properly taught something-.”

“Maeve,” Rowan interrupted, taking the papers from her. “You’re the one who asked if we could help him out at home. Don’t berate Aelin because you-.”

“Aelin? Not Miss Galathynius?” She asked, looking over at him with raised brows. “On a first name basis, are we?”

Rowan froze, just barely, and Aelin cleared her throat, drawing Maeve’s attention to her.

“Ms. Mallory, I make it a point to have a good rapport with all of my students’ parents. Rowan takes the time to speak with me every morning when he drops him off and on his afternoons to pick Ollie up as well,” she said, folding her hands atop her desk. “You’re more than welcome to refer to me as Aelin, as well, if you’d like.”

Maeve pursed her lips, her eyes never leaving Aelin’s. Even though she wanted to, Aelin didn’t break that eye contact. “No thanks,” Maeve said, at last. She nodded at the folder opened on Aelin’s desk. “Anything else important in there?”

Aelin cleared her throat and handed them another stack of Oliver’s art and schoolwork. “Just wanted you to see how well he’s doing.”

Maeve took all of the papers and shuffled through them, not bothering to let Rowan see any. He watched as she shuffled through them, nonetheless.

“There’s one last thing,” Aelin said, and held a picture of Oliver, his mom, and his dad across the desk. “I asked him to draw something for you both in class today, and this is what he drew.”

“That’s beautiful, bud,” Rowan said, and smiled at his son, but Maeve was looking at Aelin’s outstretched hand with narrowed eyes.

“That’s a beautiful bracelet,” she said, and her voice had gone cold.

Aelin stilled. “Thank you. It was my mother’s.”

Maeve sat back in her chair. “Looks familiar.”

Rowan audibly swallowed. He knew the story of that bracelet, knew that it was the only one of its kind. It had been passed down through the Ashryver family for years, dating back over a century. And it was very, very distinct.

Sighing, Rowan started, “Maeve-.”

“I mean, it’s gorgeous,” she went on, that sneer growing as she leaned forward and took Aelin’s hand in hers. Aelin didn’t move, didn’t dare snatch her hand away. “The design around the cuff, the turquoise stone…” Maeve shook her head. “There’s not another one like it, is there? One of a kind.”

Aelin’s eyes flicked to Rowan, but he was staring at Maeve.

“Now, where would I see such a one of a kind piece?” Maeve asked, and Aelin suddenly knew exactly where this conversation was going.

“Maeve,” Rowan warned, quietly, thankful that Ollie was focused on the coloring sheet he was working on at his desk. “Now’s not the time for whatever bullshit this is.”

“How was dinner at Mistward last week?” She asked, eye narrowing. “I’ve heard the mahi-mahi is to die for.”

Aelin stopped breathing. She was pretty certain Rowan had too from his still he was in the periphery of her vision.

“Mommy, what’s mahi-mahi?” Oliver asked, turning to look at her, oblivious to the bomb she’d just dropped.

Oh gods, there was no way she’d figured it out.

“It’s what Miss Aelin had for dinner when she went on a date with Daddy last week.”

A crease formed between Oliver’s brows, the conversation going directly over his head, but it was Rowan that asked, “You’ve been stalking me?”

“Can’t stalk what’s put on the internet for all to see,” Maeve said simply, crossing her arms.

Aelin kept quiet. She just looked between Rowan and his ex.

“Last time I checked, you were blocked,” he replied, his voice low. Aelin had never heard him talk in that tone.

Maeve ignored his snide remark. “How long has this been going on?”

“That’s none of your business,” Rowan hissed.

“None of my business?” She repeated. “She’s around my son all day, every day, I’m pretty sure it is my business.”

“Ms. Mallory,” Aelin began, but Maeve cut her off.

“This is extremely unprofessional,” she snapped, barely giving Aelin a second glance. “I’ll be speaking to the headmaster in the morning.”

“The headmaster is aware of our relationship,” Rowan replied and she narrowed her eyes at him. “Since it began before the school year, before Aelin was even assigned to be Ollie’s teacher, there are precautions we have to take, but her job isn’t in jeopardy and if you do anything to change that, I’ll-.”

“You’ll what? So it was just me you were keeping this…relationship from? You’re pathetic.” Maeve interrupted. She turned and sneered at Aelin. “Both of you. You better watch yourself.”

Rowan was about to grab Oliver to leave, but Aelin stood. “That’s enough. Rowan and I owe you no explanation of our time together outside of school. This is my classroom, and I won’t be reprimanded for my professional or personal life. If that’s what this conference has descended to, then it’s over and you may see yourself out.”

Something like pride bubbled up in Rowan’s chest and he didn’t hide his smirk as Maeve looked over at him.

Maeve’s face was turning red. “Ollie is going home with me.”

“What?” Rowan shouted, his smirk fading as he rose to his feet. “No, he isn’t.”

“I assume Miss Aelin is going home with you,” Maeve said, calmly. “He doesn’t need to hear all that. With me-.”

“I have custody,” Rowan said, through gritted teeth. “He’ll come home with me.”

Although Aelin stayed with her chin raised high, she remained silent. As Maeve and Rowan stared one another down, she snuck a glance at Oliver. He was watching his parents with wide, sad eyes.

“Don't worry, buddy,” Aelin whispered when his silver-lined, dark eyes turned to her. “They’re just having a little disagreement, that’s all.”

“There’s no need for you to address my son right now,” Maeve snapped, although her eyes never left Rowan’s.

“Yes, there is,” Aelin replied, calmly. “He is my student and he is in my room. My room is a safe place.”

Maeve slowly turned her gaze to Aelin and Rowan took the opportunity to hold out his hand to Oliver. “Come on, bud, let’s go.”

Aelin held Maeve’s gaze, but she wasn’t the one who spoke.

“I wanna go with mommy.”

A beat of silence.

Rowan’s arm fell to his side. “What?”

Oliver was standing halfway behind Maeve and he held onto the hem of her shirt. “Mommy,” he repeated. “I wanna go home with mommy.”

Aelin said nothing, but she watched as Rowan’s face fell. Maeve was already grabbing Oliver’s backpack. “Ollie…”

Maeve didn’t give him another chance to protest. Scooping him up and setting him on her hip, she didn’t look back at either one of them as she walked out the door.

<>

Technically, per their legal agreement, Rowan could have the cops called and get Oliver back instantly, but he figured one night wouldn’t hurt.

He wanted his mom? Fine.

Even though he felt like shit.

He and Aelin were at her house, but neither of them had spoken in the past hour. There wasn't much to say. Rowan wasn’t sure how, but he was pretty sure he had let his son down.

Oliver had never wanted Maeve over him, had never asked to go with her on his days. And, worse of all, he had almost looked scared. He was clearly upset with the way Rowan had been talking to Maeve.

But, gods, he hated that woman.

As the television quietly played in front of them, Rowan and Aelin laid in her bed, his arm around her and her head on his shoulder.

She had yet to say anything, had yet to ask him about it, but she clung to him willingly.

It wasn’t until another episode of the show they were binging ended that he said, “I’m sorry for the way Maeve spoke to you.”

Aelin nodded and her voice broke as she whispered, “I’m sorry I made your son want to go with her.”

And there was the reason for her silence. Not only was she giving him space to work out his thoughts in his own head, she’d been focused on her part in the day’s confrontation.

Turning her face until she had no choice but to look him in the eyes, he said, “You have absolutely nothing to apologize for.”

She closed her eyes, but a lone tear still spilled over and he watched it until it dropped onto his bare chest. “I should have kept my mouth shut, I shouldn’t have said anything,” she breathed. “It wasn’t my place to-.”

“It was your place, Aelin,” he cut her off. “We were in your classroom, where you teach, protect, and care for Ollie and nine other kids all day long. If anyone has his best interest at heart, it’s you.”

Aelin nodded but still looked uncertain. Rowan started rubbing her back softly with the tips of his fingers.

“It’s all on me,” he went on, looking up at the ceiling. “I shouldn’t have talked back the way I did. It’s what she wanted. Oliver didn’t need to see it.”

“You were defending yourself,” Aelin whispered. “And me.”

“And I should be doing both of those things,” Rowan said. “I just should’ve kept my cool a little better. Oliver has rarely seen me raise my voice or get pissed. Usually I’m good about that stuff. Maeve, though…she just brings it out of me.”

“No one can blame you for that,” Aelin muttered.

Rowan huffed in agreement and they went back to their comfortable silence.

It was Rowan’s day to pick Oliver up from school tomorrow so he would be leaving the office early and getting there right on time. Everything would be fine, he knew it would, but it didn’t make it hurt any less now.

He didn’t want to think about what the alternative might be.

Rowan swallowed and apparently it was enough to get Aelin’s attention, because she looked up at him. He sighed and tucked some loose hair behind her ear. “I’ve told you that Maeve is…manipulative. I’d like to think she’s above using our son to hurt me, but I don’t have any doubt that she’s at home right now making you out to be the villain.”

Aelin nibbled on her lip, but she nodded. “I’d already anticipated that. I’m not going to treat him any differently than I always have, just like the rest of my kids.”

“I just…” He sighed, and rested his brow against hers. “I don’t know how he’ll treat you tomorrow.”

“He’s only five, Ro,” Aelin replied. “Right now, the two most important people in his life are at odds, even more so than normal. I’m sure he’s confused and scared and doesn’t understand what’s happening, even with me.” She sighed and looked around at her bedroom. “Maybe she’s right. Maybe I shouldn’t be around as much.”

“No.” Rowan’s answer was instantaneous. “No, I— That’s the last thing I want.”

“But I don’t want to be-.”

“You’ve done nothing wrong,” Rowan said and he tried to keep the bite out of his voice. It wasn’t Aelin’s fault but he was so frustrated with Maeve, with the situation. “I love you. And we’re going to be fine. Ollie included.”

Aelin nodded and snuggled into him. “Well, we should probably rest. It’s getting late.”

Rowan sighed but agreed and turned off the light then the tv before scooping her into his arms and falling into a fitful sleep.

Both of them tossed and turned all night. By the time five rolled around, Aelin was already up making coffee. She let Rowan sleep but it didn’t do much good because he came down the stairs only a minute or two after she did.

After a quick good morning kiss, Aelin was getting ready and not long after she was heading toward the door.

“Try not to worry about today,” he said, tying his tie in the middle of her living room. “Let me know how it’s going when you can.”

Aelin smiled and kissed him softly. “I will. I love you.”

He said he loved her too, then she was out the door just in time to catch the beautiful oranges and pinks of the sunrise.

By the time she pulled into the parking lot, she felt like she was going to be sick. She wasn’t worried about Maeve, she knew she could handle her. It was Oliver. She wasn’t sure what she’d do if he didn’t want to be around her anymore.

Regardless, Aelin parked and hurried into the building, the late autumn chill seeping into her bones.

She still had a half hour before her students began to arrive. After writing their daily agenda on the board, she made sure she had all the copies she needed and organized their morning snacks so that they would be ready.

Once the first bell rang, she felt like she would faint, that nausea becoming overbearing.

It didn’t show, though. She wouldn’t let it, not as her students began to come in, one by one. She greeted each of them as she usually did, with a hug or a high five or a simple hello - whatever her students chose.

The last one to arrive was Oliver, just as the second bell rang. He didn’t make eye contact with Aelin as he hurried to his desk and began to unpack his belongings.

Aelin looked to the door.

Maeve’s grin spread as she disappeared out of sight.

After a silent prayer to the gods, Aelin approached Oliver’s desk and knelt. “Hey, buddy. Good morning.”

“Hi,” he said, quietly, without looking up at her.

When he said nothing else, Aelin said, “You didn’t choose what lunch you wanted on your way in. Would you like pizza, mac n’ cheese, or did you bring a lunch from home?”

Without a word, Oliver stood and went back towards the door where he moved his name to the label that said pizza.

Aelin hadn’t been sure what to expect, but complete silence wasn’t one of them. It broke her heart.

She sent Rowan a quick text as she let each of them get settled in their desks, letting him know Oliver was safe and sound at school and she’d text him on her lunch.

The morning went by slowly. Aelin kept trying to get Oliver to talk, but the more and more he didn’t, she decided to give him more and more space.

By the time lunch rolled around, Oliver was acting normal with his friends, laughing and eating at their lunch table, but every time he looked at Aelin, his smile would fade.

Aelin looked at her phone.

How’s it going?

She sighed inwardly before texting Rowan back.

I’d like to know what Maeve said to him. He will barely even look at me. He won’t talk, either. I’m concerned.

It took Rowan a few minutes to reply, but then he said, I’ll talk to him after school. It’s all going to be okay. Promise.

Aelin took his word for it even though a heavy feeling sat in the pit of her stomach.

The day continued on with much of the same. The only smile she got from him was when he’d known the answer to one of the reading questions she’d asked, and even then, his dark eyes had lit up briefly before he’d remembered what had happened, and he ducked his head.

By the time pick up came and Rowan came around the corner to her classroom, Aelin was feeling defeated. He gave her an encouraging smile before calling, “Ollie!”

Oliver’s face lit up for the first time that day. “Daddy!” He ran into Rowan’s arms and gave him a great big hug before his body slouched and he was frowning, once more. “Can we go home, daddy?”

Rowan set Oliver on the floor and crouched down so that they met eye to eye. “Usually I have a hard time getting you to leave this place. What’s going on?”

Oliver looked at Aelin, but she pretended she wasn’t listening as he looked back at Rowan. “It was hard not talking to Miss Aelin all day.”

Rowan frowned. “I can imagine that would be hard. Why didn’t you talk to Miss Aelin all day?”

“I couldn’t,” Oliver replied, simply.

“Why not?” Rowan pushed.

“Mommy said I couldn’t,” Oliver said, and it was hardly loud enough to be audible. “Not unless it was about schoolwork.”

When Rowan didn’t say anything, Aelin looked over at them. Oliver was on the verge of crying. Without another word, Rowan pulled his son into a hug.

Aelin felt a burning in her own eyes as she moved around the classroom. She tried to give the two of them a bit of privacy, saying goodbye to her other students and cleaning up as she went.

Rowan didn’t let go of Ollie as he said, “You can talk to Miss Aelin whenever you want, bud. What’s going on with mommy, the reason she doesn’t like Miss Aelin…” He sighed and pulled back to look at him. “It’s hard to explain.”

“She said Miss Aelin is trying to be my other mommy,” Ollie said, lip still quivering. “And that if she is, that she won’t be my mommy anymore. I like both mommy and Miss Aelin though.”

“Miss Aelin is a friend,” Rowan said, quietly, taking Oliver’s hands. “Mine and yours. She hasn’t ever done anything mean to us, has she?”

Oliver shook his head.

“I know you love your mommy, and I want you to love your mommy, but she cannot tell you who to talk to and who not to talk to,” Rowan began, hesitantly. “If daddy tells you it’s okay to talk to someone, you can trust me. Do you trust me?”

Oliver nodded.

“You need to trust me,” Rowan said, and smiled. “Why don’t you, me, and Miss Aelin go to dinner and we can talk this out, hmm?”

Oliver looked at Aelin for the first time. All of his classmates were gone, and it was only the three of them that remained.

She hoped he couldn’t see the tears lining her eyes as she gave him a small smile.

“Okay,” Oliver said. “I want pasta.”

“Pasta it is,” Rowan said, and picked Oliver up as he put his son’s backpack over his shoulder. “Does that sound good to you, Miss Aelin?”

“Perfect,” she said, collecting her belongings. “I’m ready when you are.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Maybe a new drug you haven’t seen before, you think idly, checking your watch as you reach your destination.

“.... No, you listen, pendejo, not one heartbeat before this, I was in the desert, and now-”

Oh, Christ.

You pull back the curtain to reveal another junior doctor, Amy, conversing animatedly with a man who looks like he escaped from the Ren Fayre happening one state over.

He’s handsome. Which is a shame, because he’s also clearly a few sandwiches short of a picnic, or a horse short of a good Ren Fayre costume.

A fearsome scar bisects his left eye, shaving clean through his eyebrow. How his eye survived you’ll never know.

He.. smells. Like dry straw and too much sun. There’s sand in the crevices of his armour. His hair is as black as midnight. A scowl curves his pretty mouth into a sneer.

Amy jerks her head up at you. “Thank goodness.”

The stranger scoffs. “More white coats. You people must be rich, no? To be able to clean your clothes so often?”

You mentally roll your sleeves up. “Well, Sir, you clearly haven’t been to a hospital in some time.”

“Hospital?” he echoes, seeming to test the word in his voice. It’s deep and raspy, heavily accent, the sound more pleasing than you’d like to admit.

Amy moves a little. You pat her arm. “I’ve got this.”

She mouths omg thankyou and departs with Matthias.

“Sir-”

“The name is Tovar.”

You look down at him sitting on the bed. It creaks, not used to supporting such a broad man and what looks like honest to goodness chain mail. “Mr Tovar-”

“Tovar will do, si?”

You check your watch. There’s a Riesling in your fridge that you really hoped to drink tonight. “What seems to be the problem here, Sir? What’s brought you here?”

He gestures, exasperated. “I wish I could tell you, senorita. I fell out of the sky on to a… chariot fused from swords and a man wearing too little clothing insisted on an… what did he call it, an ambulance? And so.” He performs a little bow. “...here I am.”

You tap your foot and wonder if you should order another drugs test.

“Okay, Tovar, I’m just gonna do some observations.”

He acts bemused as you take one hand and track his pulse. It’s irritatingly normal. His skin is rough and warm. The hands of a blue-collar worker.

“Can you… roll your sleeve up?” You tap the… forearm covers he wears.

Tovar wrinkles his nose. “This is necessary?”

“I want to check you’re all right.”

“Meirda. Of course I am not all right, as you say. I have been taken from one place and thrown into another, like an unwanted rat carcass!”

“Please keep your voice down,” you instruct.

“Why? I speak the truth.”

“You may think it’s the truth,” you mutter.

You gaze at each other for what seems like an hour but is probably only ninety seconds, and then finally Tovar, if that is his real name, unbuckles one of the leather forearm protectors. It clangs to the floor, metal and leather laying there like an unclaimed prize, and it looks so out of place on the tiled hospital floor that you almost laugh.

“Happy?” Tovar asks.

“Delighted,” you say back, making sure your tone is super professional. You gently roll his sleeve up. His skin is tan here too, a sort of sunkissed gold, like wet sand at dawn. You wrap a cuff around his arm and he honest-to-God tenses like he’s never seen this kind of medical equipment before.

His BP reads normal.

Why is he so infuriatingly calm? Is he genuinely insane?

“Where did you get these clothes?” You ask, curious, wanting to test the weight of the chain mail.

He frowns. “A tailor, west of Seville. They are old now, si? A sellsword cannot afford new clothes more than every few assignations.”

“Assignations..?”

“To earn coin. I assume you earn with your.. Instruments? That you heal?”

You sigh. He’s beautiful, he really is, and you’d listen to him read a thousand audiobooks. But you’ve been on your feet for ten hours. “Okay, Tovar. You seem fine to me. I have to discharge you. Is there somewhere you can go? Someone you can call?”

His brow furrows. “Call? If I call William from inside this building he will not hear me, comprende?”

You shake your head. “All right then.”

You whisk out from behind the curtain and have a furious whispered conversation with the registrar, who won’t discharge him unless you’re sure he has somewhere to go.

You argue for a few more minutes and then the registrar suggests you discharge him to yourself and then drive him to the homeless shelter.

You close your eyes briefly.

“Or have one of the med students do it,” he suggests, returning to a massive stack of paperwork.

It’s on the tip of your tongue to call Matthias, but you hesitate.

Maybe because you want to spend more time with him.

It’s ridiculous.

But you don’t want to leave him just yet.

You swipe back the curtain. Tovar is calmly refastening his forearm armour.

“You’re sure you have nowhere to go?” you repeat.

He looks up at you with those antique-gold eyes. “I imagine there are many places I can go in this strange new world, bella. But I know none of them like I did my home.”

You sigh deeply. “In that case, you’re coming with me.”

He stands up warily, his knees bent ever so slightly, reminding you of computer-game character stances in character creation mode.

“And then what? You will keep me like a little pet? Your kitten, caged and awaiting scraps of affection? I was not built for this.”

You bristle. “As if I would have time to dote on you. Come on. I’ll do the paperwork on the way out.”

If you have to strap him into your car, you will, and then you’ll drop him at the nearest homeless shelter, and then you’ll forget all about him.

*****

Turns out, it isn’t that simple.

The two nearest shelters are full.

The rain is pounding down like a million hammers on your car as you drive back home, exhausted and so done with this shit.

Tovar protested heavily at both the car and the seatbelt (especially the seatbelt). He dominates the space in your little Ford and you glance over at him. He is watching the windscreen wipers with abject, naked fascination, like a child seeing something for the first time.

“Is it real?” he asks softly as you park. “This horse made of swords. The objects that move without a hand to command them. The light. So much light,” he mutters, pointing to the street lamp with glows amid all the rain.

“Yep, it’s real.” You shut off the car and round the hood, yanking open his door and releasing the seatbelt. “Looks like you’re my guest tonight. Tomorrow, the authorities get involved.”

“A guest, or a prisoner?” Tovar asks, scorn dripping from his tone as he stands, towering over you. You think for a second that you should feel afraid, but you feel only two things: mild annoyance, and the tiniest spark of… interest?

It makes you more tired.

“Look!” You shout, into the howling rain. “You can shut up and come inside where it’s warm and dry or you can sleep out here in the wet. Your choice.”

He stares you down for a moment, and then his shoulders slump, all the fight gone out of him. “You are in charge, bella.”

It’s the second time he’s called you that, and you try not to wonder if it means anything.

You trudge up the steps, Tovar’s warm, broad front close to your back. You buzz yourself in and Tovar jerks at the intrusive sound, but makes no comment.

Once inside your little sanctum, you throw towels at him. “I assume you know how to use a shower? Good,” you snap, without waiting for an answer, and practically shove him into the bathroom and pull the door closed.

Then you stomp into your kitchen, yank the Riesling from the fridge and drink some straight from the bottle. You carry it to your couch with a bag of chips and let out a long, long sigh.

At least you have forty eight hours off - but then you have to pull a double.

You love your work, but you’re exhausted a lot.

Tovar curses from the bathroom. You should go and check on him, but you truly, deeply, cannot be fucked.

There’s a bang and you think christ on a bike, what now? And you get up, drag yourself into the minuscule hall and knock on the door.

No reply. Fuck, what if he’s slipped on the wet floor?

You hear a groan. God. Better go in.

You knock again, louder. No response.

You creak open the door.

The Spaniard stands under the spray of water from your shower, gloriously naked, the armour and clothes and chainmail in a pile by the toilet.

His head is bowed under the spray of water and his golden body is littered with scars, some old, some new.

He groans deeply like a man who hasn’t washed in weeks. Like a man who has had a hard life.

And you must make some noise, because he looks up at you and smiles, utterly unconcerned to be seen naked.

“I have decided that I like this new world!” He shouts, his face lighting up.

This, you think as you try not to stare at his cock, must be what going mad feels like.

*********

Pedro pals, assemble!

Your brother was playing in a sand pit at the local playground when you turned around to go buy the two of you some ice cream cones from the truck driving slowly past.

There was a priest with a group of nuns walking through the park, discussing something about the "Lord's Will". You didn't believe in any of that stuff then, so you rolled your eyes and told the nice man what ice creams you wanted.

"There you go, kiddie."

"Thank you!"

Spinning on your heel, you licked your own ice cream as you went to get back to Joey, your brother.

Something was wrong though. When you looked, he wasn't there anymore. He had been playing with a group of three kids, and none of them were there anymore. Turning back around you remember the Priest had been driving away with the nuns. You saw the two other childrens' mothers crying and talking, flailing their arms wildly at each other.

"Joey? Joey where are you," you wandered around the play set for a minute and started crying when you couldn't find him.

Wandering up to one of the adults scattered through the play area, a mother with a small baby in her arms, and said, "Can-" a sniffle before, "Can I borrow your phone? I need to call my mom."

"Of course, honey," she shuffled the little girl to her other hip and grabbed the phone from her other pocket. "Here you go sweetie. Is there anything else you need?"

"No. Uh, thank you. I'll bring it right back."

Taking a few steps away you called your mother's house number, suddenly grateful for the pressure she had put on you from a young age to remember her house number and her cell number.

"Mom-"

Hey, honey,- what? What's going on?"

"Mom, I can't find Joey. He's not here. I just walked ten steps to get our ice cream and he's- I can't find him, mom. And the other two kids were gone too. I don't know what to do, he's gone. Mom-"

"Honey?"

"I can't find-"

"Y/N!" You finally stop rambling and quiet down enough to hear your mom's voice and your own heartbeat. "We'll find him, okay? Tell whoever's phone this is what happened, and then wait there for me okay? Ask the lady you borrowed this from to call the police and help you explain what happened and I'll be right over there okay? It will take me five minutes, okay?"

"Okay. I love you."

"I love you too, Peanut."

Hanging up the phone you do as she told you and explained your situation to the kind woman with the baby. She agreed to help you call the police, even though the other parents had probably already done it.

"Are you okay, Y/N?"

"Y/N? Hey. Y/N! You missed the turn..."

You snap out of your flashback and look around you at the road.

"What?"

Hotch let out and annoyed puff of air and pointed to the road that you were about to drive past. "That's our turn. You know, to get to the school. That's right there."

Mumbling under your breath you turn the signal on and slam the breaks after seeing there was no one behind you. You smirk to yourself when you see that the man in the passenger seat had to throw his arm out so as not to hit the dashboard.

"Agent, if you do not drive this vehicle with care, I will personally revoke your privilege of driving on the clock," he threatens as he adjusts the lapels on his suit jacket.

You ignore him and park in front of the school, getting out and straightening your own blazer.

"You let me do the talking, L/N." He declares as he brushes past you, not bothering to hold the door on his way.

Murmuring under your breath, you follow him in.

Almost immediately, you are stopped by someone from campus security and flash your badges in reply. The guard simply nods and sends you through, pointing to the principal's office.

"Mr. O'Malley? I'm SSA Aaron Hothcner, and this is Agent L/N. We are here from the BAU in Quantico investigating the homicides that I'm sure you've heard about. I was wondering if we could ask you a few questions about the victims; they were all students here." Hotch's air of professionalism was back full force rather than his childish antics only five minutes ago.

O'Malley shakes his head slightly, a red tint coming to his ears as his eyes scan the clock. "Actually, I don't have the time right now. I have another meeting coming up shortly-"

"Sir, your meeting isn't for another fifteen minutes," the secretary states before turning back to you and Hotch, "Surely that's enough time for you and your partner to ask him a few questions?" The young woman looks at you when she speaks, her eyes silently pleading. She must know something as well.

"No, Anne. I really don't have time for that-"

"Hotchner, if you want to talk to Mr. O'Malley, maybe I could ask," you pause, reading her desk tag, "Ms. Brink a few questions?"

She nods her head eagerly, and as much as Hotch wanted to argue, he has seen her desperate look as well and would have suggested splitting up if you hadn't.

"I was just about to say that. Mr. O'Malley is there somewhere we could go that's a bit more private?" Hotch questions, signaling behind him, "If that's a break room that would be perfect."

O'Malley nods, standing up. He walks towards the door, opening it as he turns back to look at the you and Hotch. There's a glint of something in his eyes and-

And he's running.

"Go! Hotch, go, go, GO!" Before you even finish urging him to chase the principal he's running after the man. "Anne, if you know anything suspicious about James O'Malley you need to tell me, and you need to tell me now."

Tears well in the younger woman's eyes as she nods, fists bunching in the skirt of her peach colored dress. "He, uh. He has made- you know. S-sexual advances on a few young girls. He did the same to me, b-but when he d-did it to me he said he would kill the next girl that w-was in here if I told..." Anne breaks into sobs as she hangs her head low.

"Anne, listen to me. None of this is your fault. You were only trying to protect these girls and yourself. This has been extremely helpful, thank you, Ms. Brink." Gently you reach over and squeeze her hand, sliding a box of tissues towards her before quickly slipping out of the office.

Pulling your phone out of your pocket, you call Garcia.

"BAU Sperm Donation: You jack 'em, we pack 'em. How can I help you my pretty?"

You don't have time to laugh, though you so badly wanted to. "Pen, I need to to pull everything you can find about James O'Malley. He's the-"

"School principle of Opportunity Elementary. He's 37 years old, comes from a highly religious background- Papa Bear was a Priest. He- oh boy. Oh no. This is not good." You hear computer keys clacking on the other end before you prompt her to keep speaking.

"Yeah, Pen? What's not good?"

"This guy," she clicks her tongue, "And his entire recent history when you deep-dive in my Fancy Google. This guy is on review for child molestation and rape charges."

You slam your fist against the nearby wall and curse lowly, "Do you have any large property in his name? Anything big enough to have some sort of shrine, or altar? Also, with enough room to... oh God... cleanly chop off a-"

"Ah! AH! Stop! I get it. I'm looking."

After a moment she sighs, "Bingo! 142 Walnut St. right outside of the town that the school is in. Twelve minutes and forty-three seconds from your current location. I'll ping the directions to you and notify the rest of the team. They are slightly further away, so you and your partner should get there first. Hurry, Y/N, he might have another kid there."

"Bye, Pen." You hang up and start running to the SUV, surprised to see Hotch there, already waiting in the passenger seat. You wonder why he hadn't sat on the other side and remember about the key in your pocket.

Getting in, you slam the door, not bothering to buckle and say, "Take my phone and pull up the directions from Pen. That's where our guy is going, she think he has another child based on video footage from this morning's video feed of the back entrance of his office."

Hotch surprisingly doesn't argue, instead doing exactly as he was told while you sped in the direction you had come from before.

Withing ten minutes you had made it to the house, not saying a word to Hotch as your mind ran through all of the possibilities of what you'd find. This was your first child case since you moved to the BAU and honestly you weren't handling it very well.

When you made it to the barn, you snatched your gun from your holster and kept it aimed towards the ground. Motioning to Hotch you signal that he should go left and you will go right.

Clearly, he didn't like you making all the calls, but he was so upset about losing the guy the first time around that he didn't have it in him to command you down.

Beginning your move-in, you start to circle the barn just how you had told Hotch and kept your gun up as you crept towards the final turn to the back of the barn. Out of the corner of your eye you see the rest of the team start to jog over to the barn from the forest behind the bar, they must have decided to use a different entrance as hopes to catch O'Malley off guard.

Taking a moment to steel yourself you keep your back against the side of the barn before spinning in a quick step to raise your gun again and aim at the final possibility of where he could be-

But it was just Hotchner.

"L/N, he must be inside, turn back the way you came and we'll go in together." His voice is stern as you nod in compliance and turn around, raising your gun as you see a little boy. With a gun trained on him...

It's Joey. Joey is there dead in front of the church, a big cross burned into his chest... his five year old body.

That's all you see, just like that day so many years ago. That's all you see, so you jump forward in front of him and you-

Fall. You fall. And you can't tell why.

Blood, there's blood under you. Who's hurt?

"Y/N! Oh my God, Y/N!" Anything between your name being said the first and second time is lost in your fuzzy ears.

You don't realize why the voice is yelling at you until you feel the burning, fire-like pain, radiating up your left side.

After a moment, you feel hands on your shoulders, one of them moving to slap you in the face a few times to get your eyes to open, which they did.

"Hey, you need to stay awake. Okay? Y/N! Open your eyes. Look at me." Emily transfers her hands to your hip, pressing down on the wound there roughly. Your body instinctively crunches up to get away from the new, uncomfortable pain, but Emily presses down on your chest, keeping you to the floor.

You try to mumble something, but the second your mouth opens, it's as if you completely lost your voice.

"Shh, Y/N, you're going to be okay, you just need to keep your eyes open okay?

"What the hell, Aaron?! You were standing right there, man, why didn't you go to her?! She was fucking shot and you just stood there! You're our leader, start fucking acting like one!" You can't pick out all the words, but you can tell that it's Derek's voice and you smirk to yourself.

After school ended, Danny, Tucker, and Sam went to the nasty burger to hang out and grab some milkshakes. They didn't talk about much, and definitely avoided talking about the crystal shards. It wasn't long until their shakes were gone, so they reluctantly headed over to Tucker's to get started on some homework. Lancer had, as usual, assigned a mountain of reading due before monday's class. Luckily, it was Friday, so they did have a couple days to get it done. None of them were looking forward to it, though. As they were leaving, a wisp of almost invisible mist escaped Danny's lips. His ghost sense. He tensed, glancing around to see if he could find the ghost. Sam and Tucker noticed, and started doing the same. "Over there." Sam was pointing down the street a little ways, where a huge serpent like ghost was slithering towards them, destroying everything in its path. Danny jumped behind a nearby delivery truck and transformed. He left Sam and Tucker where they were, and flew straight for the snake. As he got closer, he realized the thing had two heads. It saw him coming and flared out its necks like a cobra and hissed. Danny stopped just out of striking distance. He charged an ectoblast and threw it at the left head. It connected and the creature fell backwards into the pavement. The asphalt cracked and chunks went flying in several directions. Danny reached around to pull the thermos from his new utility belt. Sam had come up with the idea for that, and Danny was glad. It had been hard to figure out how to get it to stay only on his ghost form, but they had eventually figured it out. All it needed was to be charged with a little of Danny's ectoenergy, and it traveled with his ghost form. Easy. Before he could pull the cap off the thermos and suck the dazed two headed serpent into it, a blaring horn caught his attention. His parents were careening towards the two ghosts at full speed. His father was driving, which was scary all by itself. What was scarier though, was that his mother was crouching on top of the RV, aiming an ectocannon at him. "Surrender, ghost scum!" she shouted before firing the gun. Danny had to dive out of the way, dropping the thermos in the process. He flew higher, trying to avoid the subsequent shots. He'd forgotten about the snake, and evidently so had his parents. The snake rammed into the side of the RV, causing it to tip sideways onto two wheels. Maddie backflipped off the roof and landed with the ectocannon pointed at the snake. A red glint as she flipped caught Danny's eye. He looked closer, and saw that she was wearing a necklace. That was strange. His mother never wore jewelry, especially with her hazmat suit. She fired the gun at the snake, who couldn't avoid it fast enough. The ray blasted the snake into the nearby wall and it did not get up again. Danny used the distraction to turn invisible and float back towards Sam and Tucker, who had moved toward the fight, but had stayed far enough back to be out of the way.   "Jack! Get the thermos out! Hurry!" Maddie yelled at her husband. He stumbled from the RV, nearly falling flat on his face as he rushed forward. A thermos was in his hand and he sucked up the snake when he got close enough. Maddie was still on guard, looking around for Phantom. "Did you see where the ghost boy went, Jack?" She asked, so quiet that Danny had to strain to hear. Crap, he thought. He'd better change back before they found him. He turned to find a place to transform, but a shout made him stop in his tracks. "Show yourself, Ghost!"