#yourlocalbrawler

“It–it didn’t work.” The earth continued to rumble and crack, the lightning of concrete and dirt growing with each thundering pulse of energy from White Crest. Metzli stood there, watching helplessly, unable to coordinate another plan as everyone stood behind them. Cass, Teddy, Emilio, Teagan, Patricia, and Eilidh agreed to ensure the plan worked, to stay just outside the town’s boundaries in case they needed to step in or keep running. 

And it was so funny, wasn’t it? Decades of being a strategist, with backup plan after backup plan, and now, when the world was ending—arguably the most important moment in Metzli’s life—they were coming up with nothing. “It was supposed to work! I don’t understand! Twelve sacrifices for each hour. All the books—Leah said—fuck! Fuck!” Abigail and Lil, and all those people had given their lives, believing they were doing the right thing. The very thought made Metzli sink to their knees, their heart aching and wishing for some other way. “All those volunteers…it was supposed to—”

Then, it hit them.

“The thirteenth hour.” Metzli practically whispered to themself, rising to their feet and stumbling as dry earth burst open. The sinkhole was going to reach the city limit if they didn’t act fast. If Metzli didn’t do something. “We forgot about the thirteenth hour. Teagan–you were in it.” She nodded with her brows furrowing together, as if she knew where they were going with their thought. She did. She looked down at Eilidh with a somber expression, not saying a word as Metzli continued. “You and that Sol guy, right? If it exists, it has to be the missing part. We need…” Their eyes fell at the realization they knew no one would want to say aloud. Avoiding everyone’s faces, Metzli continued, preparing for the inevitable rebuttals. Especially on Eilidh’s part. Maybe even more especially on Cass’s. “There has to be one more…sacrifice.” The final word hung heavy in the air, and Metzli didn’t lift their head. Doing so would make them think twice, and there just wasn’t enough time for that.

Eilidh was the first to surge forward, putting together what her partner was really saying. Her nails dug impossibly deep into their skin, drawing blood, and Metzli could’ve sworn they felt them in their heart. The two of them were supposed to have a new start, and they were effectively telling her they never would. Her screams filled their ears, her pleas making it nearly impossible to submit themself to what they needed to do. Whispering sweet nothings in her ears, she clung to them, and they finally rose their head to acknowledge everyone they loved, tears streaming down their fearful expression.

Rhett was dead. The ground was shaking, the world was ending, Rhett was dead, and it felt so much like Etla that Emilio could see Jaime’s body in the street just a few feet away staring at him with unseeing eyes. Nausea tugged at his gut, and it took everything he had just to keep his goddamn lunch down, just to keep himself standing on his own two feet. 

And the worst part, he thought, was that it was all for nothing. Rhett stayed behind to play the fucking hero, did the exact goddamn thing he’d forbidden Emilio from doing, and it was all for nothing. Emilio lost the only brother he had left for nothing. The world was still ending. They were still going to die. It might have felt like a relief if he weren’t so goddamn angry about it.

Metzli was speaking then, and it took a moment for Emilio to tune back in to the conversation, took a moment for him to pull himself back into the present and away from the bodies in the street that had rotted away to dust in another country years ago, but when his mind caught up, he understood what they were saying. 

Twelve people stayed behind. And there should have been one more.

Immediately, Emilio stepped forward. He locked eyes with Metzli, tilting his head in a silent question. He’d do it, if he had to. He’d be breaking a million promises — to Rhett, to Teddy, to people no longer around to care, but fuck, it’d be worth it. He chose to live. He chose that. Maybe it didn’t matter if he didn’t stick to it. Maybe choosing it once was enough.

The ground trembled beneath her feet, and Cass stumbled in a wild attempt to stay upright. It should have stopped by now, shouldn’t it? All those people who’d stayed behind, all those people who’d given everything to stop it… It should be over by now. The fact that it wasn’t was bound to be a bad sign, and maybe — maybe they all should have known better. Maybe they should have realized that things couldn’t be this simple. 

Maybe some things weren’t meant to work out.

Cass’s heart was in her throat, because she didn’t want to die. She didn’t want to fall into a hole in the world where no one would ever find her, didn’t want her life to end when it felt like it had really only just begun. Superheroes died for their causes, sometimes, but in the comics, they always came back after. Death wasn’t so temporary in reality. 

But then, Metzli came to a realization that was almost worse, somehow. They spoke, and Cass felt her stomach clench because she knew exactly what they were saying. She stepped towards them a moment after the hunter holding Teddy’s hand did, eyes sliding nervously to the man as she shuffled a little farther away from him and locked her gaze onto Metzli’s. 

“No,” she said firmly, shaking her head. “Metzli, no. You — You said we were going to leave together. You promised that. Let someone else do it.” She didn’t mean to glance back to the hunter as she said it, but maybe she did anyway. “You get to live now. You get that. Please, Metzli.”

The crumbling canyon before them was a ripping, yawning, hollow thing. Bleakly mirroring the expressions on those who stood around the edge. Teddy heard, yes. Teddy processed the meaning moments after the words came from Metzli’s mouth. His grip on Emilio’s hand and stubborn feet maybe the only thing keeping the hunter from rushing in without even knowing what he was going to even do about it. Teddy was doing it again. Flushed cheeks on a paling face. Slowly becoming about as ghost white as the crackles of energy that seeped up and out of the ground before them. Stuck in his spot. Unable to move. But if it wasn’t fear that was keeping him rooted, what was it? Despair? Rage? 

The florist (Well, was it even fair to call him a florist anymore? Twice now his shops had been swallowed completely by something all consuming and unstoppable. At least this time they weren’t alone. Though that thought was far more bitter than it should have been.) echoed the younger girl’s words. “No.” Firm, hurt, but lined with a breathy desperation that threatened to tumble outward should he say anything else. He finally forced himself to look over. Too much distance and too many people he loved stood between him and his appa. Fuck. Teddy was just getting used to that. To family. Each face painted a different portrait of grief. Emilio’s loss of another brother, Cass and the home she’d finally built for herself, Eilidh and the life they were about to create. And Metzli. Something determined and sad behind those eyes. A hungry thing Teddy recognized immediately as resolution. 

“There’s gotta– anyone else. Please. There’s so many people out there who could– anyone else.” It was pretty clear. The people there were among the few Teddy Jones would do literally anything for. Except allow them to die. Except allow them to be the final sacrifice in a pyrrhic victory against the town that raised Ted. The town that was set to raze the rest of the planet if someone didn’t intervene. There had to be another way. Anything. Anything would be better than losing a single one of them. 

— 

Despite the ravenous trembling of the ground beneath her, Patricia’s feet remained planted, looking on at the city that had attempted to make a massacre of its own population. It took her a bit longer than it should’ve to realize what Metzli was implying, what grim resolution to the problem they’d come up with, but it still hurt all the same. They were a close friend, one of the closest besides Teagan, and somebody she thought would become a parent-in-law someday in the future, but like all things, that innocent thought was cut short. Life was unfair, and cruel, but those words were understatements for the irony of Metzli sacrificing themself after already having given so much to the town and its people. 

A stunned silence washed over Patricia, the torrent of thoughts in her mind serving to silence the group’s pleading and denial. When she thought of putting herself in their shoes, she knew she couldn’t do it. There was no way she would leave Teagan and Daisy to give her life for the rest of the world. She knew just how selfish that was, but she didn’t allow self-pity to derail her thoughts. If anyone could do this, it was Metzli, that’s just the kind of person they were. They’d give their all until the last drop of blood was spilled.

Rather than a sob or a cry escaping Patricia’s lips as a tear streamed down her cheek, a grim chuckle instead left in its place. The feeling of disbelief fused with the sudden realization that it had to be Metzli, into a feeling of amusement at the irony of the situation. What else was there to do when all others wept for their closest friend? “Always gotta be the damn hero, don’t you Metz? If you’re going to go out, might as well go out swinging.” The world in front of them was emptying out, crumbling into nothing before their very eyes, but with a single realization Metzli proved that they were willing to charge forth into the void with a final defiant gesture. “Make it count, because there won’t be a single person who survives this that won’t miss you every damn day.”

There wasn’t much else to say. The group of people surrounding Teagan had every reason to refute what Metzli was saying, but even with how horrible the answer was, it was the answer. However, she did find herself wanting to fight back with the rest. If not to preserve a kind heart’s beat, then for her mother figure, Macleod. The love of her life was giving everything away, tossing out any possibility of the happy ever after she felt her mother deserved. But then, the love of her life spoke up, speaking in a way that would most certainly get her chastised. 

“C-cariad.” Teagan pulled Patricia closer to retreat to the back of the group, her voice still cracking from her time in The Ring’s basement. Her neck still bore the evidence of the horrible conditions she was under, and she was still weak from her time away from Dark Score, but there was an undeniable strength in the way she managed to get Patricia where she wanted. “They might h-hit you. Wanted to protect you.” She whispered hoarsely, confident that Patricia would still hear. “May be best to k-keep quiet for now. People in mourning. Denial.” Teagan looked at Cass then, the biggest and most frequent offender of denial. She did it best, and Teagan has experienced first-hand more than once. 

Everyone spoke together, refusing to accept the solution in front of them, just as expected. Metzli’s face contorted into a mixture of grief, frustration, and fear, the knowledge that they were wasting time heavy on their entire body. “Guys—please, can we just—” Then, Patricia, of all people, was tearfully chuckling, and they couldn’t help but scoff in kind. She not only understood what they were saying, but accepted it. There was no way they’d let Emilio give his life, and there was no changing Metzli’s mind, and she knew it. 

“No, guys. No.” Metzli propped Eilidh an arm-length away by her shoulder, hoping to help her see that their solution was the correct one. She continued to argue, to kiss them and beg them to let someone else do it, but Metzli simply shook their head. It wasn’t easy on their part, by any means, though it may have looked like it was. They had coordinated so many plans, were looking forward to a life full of love and adventure, and now…there was no chance. All of that was being given up so that everyone they loved could have that instead. It would hurt, it would ache indefinitely. But to Metzli, that fate was far better than having nothing at all.

Looking to the rest of the group, Metzli could see a tsunami of emotions crashing together, further increasing the difficulty of their decision. Eventually though, they found their resolve. “Emilio, you’re not giving your life. You haven’t lived long enough to make that decision so easily. Teddy and Cass, I know this is hard. I know. But who else will it be? Who else has had their chance at life? I’ve lived over a hundred and fifty years. I promised, I know. And you know what?” They chuckled in disbelief, shaking their head. “I did. I worked so hard to get out of here with you all. I kept my promise, and now I’ve gotta make good on my promise to love and protect you.”

“Metzli…” Emilio’s voice was low, quiet. He wanted to argue that they had more to live for than he did, but Teddy’s grip on his hand reminded him that that wasn’t quite true. And there was something unspeakably cruel about that, wasn’t there? The last time Emilio had run from a town as it came to an end, he’d had nothing left to live for and nothing to chase him down and put him out of his misery. This time, he had so much left to do and the world demanding someone stay to pay the toll anyway. Two years ago, this decision would have been a simple one. But now? Now, it was harder than it should have been. Now, it wasn’t him who was making it. 

He glanced over at Teddy, the stricken look on his face. He was going to lose something here today, no matter who made this sacrifice. And Emilio hated that. He hated that these were the kinds of choices they were given, hated that this was their lot in life, hated that Metzli was volunteering for this now, just when they were starting to make peace with each other, hated that he knew he was going to let them. 

“It doesn’t have to be you,” he said, still low. It was a pointless gesture, both the quiet tones when just about everyone in their group had some kind of enhanced hearing and the offer that Metzli had already turned down once. “Already made it longer than anybody thought I would, you know. Wouldn’t hate it if it ended like this.” They were going to say no — he knew they were going to say no — but Emilio still felt the need to offer. They deserved that much. He got that now.

Frustration built up in Cass throughout it all, through Teddy’s voice echoing her pleas and Patricia’s teary chuckle and Teagan’s sidelong glance in her direction. They were supposed to all get out. They were supposed to all be safe. She was supposed to meet up with Sloane after, they were supposed to all get away together, and it wasn’t —

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It wasn’t supposed to end like this. They weren’t supposed to be faced with more impossible choices when the decisions had all already been made. Cass had already lost friends to this crumbling mess of a town, had already lost people before the chaos started thanks in part to the strange ‘warning signs’ the town threw out as it started the too-slow, too-fast process of dying. She wasn’t supposed to lose anyone else. She wasn’t supposed to have to leave her family behind. 

Teddy’s boyfriend made an offer, and it took everything Cass had not to beg Metzli to take it, not to say outright that it would be better if they left someone she didn’t care about behind than it would be to leave someone she loved. It was a selfish thing to feel, but she felt it so entirely that it threatened to swallow her whole before the crumbling town could. Growing up the way she had, first in the system and then on the streets, made it so easy to accept that terrible things were bound to happen and to prefer it when they were happening to people you didn’t know. It also made it harder, somehow, when they were happening to the people you loved. There were so few of them. Cass couldn’t afford to lose any more.

“I don’t want that,” she insisted, her voice breaking. “We don’t want that.” She gestured between herself and Teddy, speaking for him without permission because she knew she was right. For all that she’d resented him, she knew that Teddy grew up much in the same way she had. She knew that, like her, he would prefer it if strangers took the fall in place of friends. Teddy didn’t want anyone to die for him any more than Cass did. She was confident in that, at least. “Let it be someone else, Metzli, please. I — I don’t want to lose you. I can’t. You’re my family, the first family I ever had. Please don’t leave me here alone.” 

— 

There wasn't anything Teddy could say that Cass hadn't already. Though her glances towards Emilio hadn't gone completely unnoticed. It wasn't her fault she never had a chance to really meet him and get to know the side Ted had come to love. But that didn't really stop the sting and feeling of betrayal at the silent suggestion. His heart was pounding. If he had not spent the majority of the last few months learning how to control his shifting, he might have sported a much more toothsome look by now. Instead he looked much like a dog someone left out in the rain. Tearing his eyes between the one who had volunteered themselves, and the man who tried to take their place. Neither would be acceptable. How could they be? Teddy's life had been empty, so fucking empty until these beautiful lights filled it with meaning and worth. He gripped even tighter on Emilio's hand. Maybe even painfully, but not on an intentional scale. He'd probably have done the same to Metzli if he already had a hold on them. 

"You– you can't leave us." He repeated numbly, barely audible. "I said I'd go wherever you go, appa. You promised we'd be together." In lieu of a well thought out argument, Teddy began to mumble like a lost toddler. Felt the burn in his legs as he willed them to move but they stayed firmly in place. His stomach churned, and his chest rose and shuddered with his ragged breath. "Why-why-why would it even have to be you? Huh?" He stammered, a rising defensive rage bubbling up out of the demon. "Haven't you given enough? You deserve to make it out with all of us just as much as anyone else, more even. You fought for this appa, you have to come with us s-someone else out there has to-" The tears his wide stare had been holding back finally burst through the dam. Catching his voice behind a curtain of hyperventilation and choked sobs as the realization that there was no way that he was leaving here with his heart intact. 

—

Patricia couldn’t think of anything witty or insightful to add to this devastating moment of collective revelation. All she could do was wrap an arm around Teagan, and watch as each member of this group reacted in their own ways. Even if all of them were normal people, intertwined only by common interests and memories, this would still hurt like shit, but they weren’t just that. Everybody here had been affected by Metzli for the better, time and time again. How could anybody ever accept that a world of people they’d never met, of people that would mostly never know them or care about them, should be more important than the one person who was good without expectation? It was a herculean task, and it couldn’t be resolved in the mere minutes that remained before the world ended.

Only an immensely small percentage of the world would know just what had been sacrificed for them, and even less would get to know who was lost for them. It was a devastatingly lonely fate that Patricia wouldn’t wish on nobody, not even those that had taken Teagan from her. There was no point consoling others right now, because not even Patricia could keep it together to do so. There was no staying strong, not anymore. Thoughts were quickly becoming harder to grasp as the knot in her throat felt larger and larger. Patricia leaned over and buried her face in Teagan’s shoulder, quickly dampening the fabric of her shirt with a stream of the tears just as inevitable as the shudder of the earth beneath them.

Teagan’s whole demeanor softened at the emotional outpour around her. She found herself wanting to fight back too, but there was a look in the vampire’s eye that told her everything she needed to know. They were a parent, a lover, a friend, a sibling, and everything in between. Soon, they would be none of those things except in the fleeting memories of everyone surrounding them. Macleod would mourn for the rest of her days, and as Teagan looked back over to her whilst she held Patricia, she held back a sob. The people she loved were always so strong and never let their tears see the light of day. Each a cache of emotions they held tightly shut. Holding tempers that could be akin to a blazing fire. But there they were, extinguishing the flames themselves so as to not leave anything unsaid.

“Shh…” She cooed, bringing Patricia closer. What else could she say? Teagan led the pair to the ground to get a better hold, a better look at the damage Metzli’s decision was making. It was then that she realized just how good of a friend they were to Patricia. She should’ve known. They had played a willing part in her rescue mission, after all. Teagan then cried, too. She held them at arm’s length so she didn’t have to feel the love they so obviously wanted to give, and did anyway, even without her permission. “I’m sorry,” Teagan whispered, looking at Metzli. “I should’ve gotten to know you better.” They shook their head at her, proclaiming her words nonsense and that they wouldn’t change a thing. Sometimes a quiet love is the one that echoes the farthest. Nodding in understanding, Teagan placed a kiss on Patricia’s head and intertwined her fingers with Macleod’s, extending her strength and love to her.

“Come on man,” Metzli shook their head and faced the wreckage that White Crest was becoming. “You’re not getting out of living that easy. You’ve got shit to do. Besides…” Shrugging, they turned to Cass and Teddy for a moment, going back to Emilio to finish their thought. “You need to make sure everyone stays together and gets out. No one else knows how important that is more than you.” 

Metzli again turned around, this time facing Eilidh. If it wasn’t ghosts or ghouls, it was the intimate celebrations that brought back the dead, or better yet, kept them alive. Metzli had done just that only weeks ago when they put together a Día de Muertos party. Eilidh did that daily when she saw a butterfly and said hello to her first love. They wondered, for a moment, if she’d do the same when she found a blooming datura. At the thought, Metzli stared into her eyes with a softness that could compete with silk. Their hand grazed the necklace they’d given her and they swallowed a sob so they could replace it with a longing kiss. “I’m so glad you’re the first and only woman I’ve ever loved.” They muttered against her lips, stepping away slowly while holding her hand with a pressure she could feel. Raising it just as slow and biting hard enough to draw her black, clotted blood. She scoffed out a teary chuckle and roughly pulled them to her for another firm kiss. A proper one that ended with their blood in her mouth. “I love you,” They said in unison, in each other’s languages they learned for one another.

Finally, they faced Teddy and Cass, only cupping her cheek. They would’ve cupped Teddy’s too, but sadly, one needs two hands for that, and he was on their left. “Listen guys, I’m not leaving you because I want to. I made a promise to protect you. To love you so unconditionally that I would quite literally put my life on the line for you. Of course you don’t want this, hell, I don’t want this, but it’s the solution we’ve got.” Metzli tightened their eyes shut in a vain attempt to halt the tears that fell anyway, and slowly, they brought Cass and Teddy into the tightest hug. Tight enough to imprint their bodies onto their skin so they’d stay there forever and they never had to forget how beautiful it felt to have love wrap around them. “It’s not about deserve. That went out the window a long time ago. It’s just about love. That’s all this is, and if you remember that, I’ll never leave you. You’ll never be alone. Look around you.” They parted from the hug and gestured to the people that had banded together to leave. “We made a family, Cass. We started it. And then it got bigger.” Teary eyes met with Teddy’s. “So no, you two will never be alone, and you know, you know, I will find a way back. This isn’t the end. It never is in our world. I chose you from the get-go. I chose you when I said we should leave. I’m choosing you now.” With a pause, they let go and stood tall, looking at their car. “We don’t have a lot of time and I need to get something done. Can I do that?”

Teddy’s grip on his hand was almost painful, tight and certain in a way that told the slayer just what the florist thought of his offer. It wouldn’t have mattered, anyway. Metzli had that bound and determined look in their eye, the one that told Emilio that their mind was made up. For all the ups and downs that their strange almost-friendship had been through throughout his year in White Crest, he could certainly recognize that that look meant there was no arguing with the vampire. 

Glancing to the rest of the group — to Teddy’s stricken expression, to the heartbroken kid, to Teagan and Patricia on the ground and Macleod murmuring in the language she and Metzli shared — Emilio nodded. “I’ll make sure they get out,” he promised. Metzli was right; out of all of them, Emilio knew best just how important that was. He could save people, this time. It didn’t make up for the ones he couldn’t save before, didn’t undo the shit he’d done, but it was something. It had to be something.

Cass, of course, was far less understanding. She wanted an easier answer, wanted a better ending to this story. She wanted the kind of thing that only ever existed in fairytales, where the people she loved were fine and everyone lived happily ever after. Never mind that that was already out the window now, never mind that people had already died for this town, never mind that it would all be for nothing if one more didn’t join them. All Cass wanted was to get out of here with what was left of her family intact. That was all. 

And this world couldn’t even give her that. 

Her tears soaked Metzli’s hand as it rested against her face, and she shook her head adamantly. “It isn’t fair.” After everything they’d been through, after all the work they’d put into regaining their soul, how was this how it ended? How was it okay that they were going to die when they’d only just started to live? The two of them had just celebrated Metzli’s birthday, the first time they’d been allowed to do so. It was supposed to be the first of many, was supposed to be the beginning of a new tradition. They were supposed to have decades of movie nights and stupid dinner parties, were supposed to be there for each other until Cass was old and gray. Cass was supposed to have her sibling with her until the day she died. 

They should have had sixty more years of laughter and joy and peace. It wasn’t supposed to end in a crumbling town, with tears and dust. It wasn’t supposed to end abruptly and without warning, the way every other attempt at a family Cass had ever made had. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

But there was no other way it could be, either. 

Metzli wouldn’t let anyone else make this decision in their place, not even if they were volunteering for it. No matter what they thought of themself, they were good. Too good to let anyone else do this in their stead, no matter how much Cass might long for it. Maybe it was always going to end like this after all. Maybe, since the beginning, Metzli doing something this selfless and this wonderful and this heartbreaking was inevitable. Maybe good people didn’t get happy endings. 

She whimpered as Metzli spoke, a thousand arguments building up in the back of her mind. But you won’t, she wanted to scream. You won’t be here. You won’t be here, and the town is gone and Levi is going to go back into the sea and Teddy probably doesn’t like me much, anyway, and I can’t go back to being alone when I’ve only just started to be with other people. This can’t be all the time we get. This can’t be all the family I get to have. It was stupid and selfish and childish, but she wanted to stomp her feet and throw her hands up and scream at the sky, wanted to yell at a god she wasn’t even sure she’d ever believed in for making this the hand they were dealt. It isn’t fair. I need you here. I still need you here. 

But what good would it do? What good would throwing a fit at the end of the world do for any of them? It would only make Metzli feel worse than they already did and, god, Cass didn’t want their last impression of her to be that. She didn’t want Metzli to feel anything negative towards her at the end, didn’t want to be the inconvenience every one of her short-lived foster families had accused her of being. There was so much here that she didn’t want, and so little time to correct any of it. 

There was still too much to say, still too much to do. And the world was still ending. And not one bit of it was fair.

She reached out, clutching Metzli’s hand desperately. “I’m not — I’m not ready,” she said, voice caught somewhere between a whisper and a sob. “I’m not ready to be without you. We just started. This is supposed to be the beginning.” 

The messy mix of memories that had firmly rooted Teddy in place began to settle into the corners of his mind, letting him slip into an unkind and uncomfortable sense of morbid pain. He had stopped flicking his gaze between Metzli and Emilio at some point, maybe when the older of the two guided the younger to keep everyone else safe. A firm decision that didn't seem up for debate. No, instead his eyes fell on Cass. Watched every bit of the churning ocean of emotions washed over her features in a way his inability to process the very same ones wouldn't allow. He watched until they were both pulled into a hug so tight his view was obscured, and he could only feel the flushed heat radiating off her skin. Hear her heartbeat banging against its cage in rhythm with his own. 

Her words compelled him to do something he never really would have thought of, if not for how Metzli brought them closer together. Funnily enough, their connection to Levi and Marina made them something of siblings, but it might just have been the old vampire who made them family. Teddy gently, far more gently than he had been (and still was) gripping tight to his boyfriend, slipped his hand into Cass's. A wordless promise that if she wanted it, if she allowed it…he would be there for her. They both knew so intimately what it was like to be alone. Maybe it was time they tried to get rid of that feeling together. 

Teddy wasn't ready to lose Metzli either. The annoying gnawing voice that always grated at the back of his head reminded him that they hadn't even really known each other that long. That the strange sensation of knowing the vampire all his life had come from a stint of magic that temporarily altered his memories and gave him and Metzli a few days where he got to be a real kid. Their kid. And now… now he was going to be an orphan again. It didn't really matter how old you were, losing that part of yourself… especially after having fought so long to feel it. To really belong to something or someone who chose you because of who you are, not something you did or something you could give. He wasn't ready to lose it all again. It didn't matter what he had with Levi. A thousand years and that would never be this. 

A loving embrace, before a calculated release. 

A selfless sacrifice that would leave a living scar on everyone here. Teddy wept. Silent and steady. Hot blistery tears streaking down his cheeks with no sign of stopping. His breath stifled any words, as if he could think of any. What the hell was he supposed to say? How do you tell someone that they've become such an ingrained part of you that to pull them away means the very fabric of you begins to unravel? How do you keep standing when the ground below gets ripped away? The closest he could think of was a sobbed, repeated phrase. Over and over. 

"Apa, please. I love you."

—

All Teagan could do was watch with eyes so full of mist that everyone was a blur. Looking down at Patricia, it was all she could do to keep herself from falling apart when there were parties clearly more affected than she was. For the time being, she kept quiet, wiping her eyes to see Metzli hurry around the vehicles as the world crumbled around them. Time was ticking, and Teagan could’ve sworn she could hear the clock bell roar, confirming Metzli’s suspicions. 

Why did it have to end this way? Life always had a cost, and it looked like there was nothing left to do but pay, and Metzli was holding the lump sum. One so large that it was lodged in their throat while they said their goodbyes, even taking the time to speak to those they barely knew. Teagan appreciated that, looking at Macleod with eyes so full of sorrow, they were dripping down her cheeks. Everything was breaking, and the nix didn’t wield the power to make everything come to a full stop when the collection of all their fears was titanic. But that strange, one-armed vampire did. And they knew it. 

“I’m not ready either,” Metzli whispered with a tired smile, pulling Cass into one more tight hug after spending a few minutes rushing to transfer items to the other vehicles and writing letters as fast as they could. They figured their belongings would be better off kept by those they loved than lost beneath the rubble of a lost town, and their family would pass on their goodbyes to everyone they knew. Of that they were sure of. 

“And Teddy,” Metzli locked eyes with the one and only son they ever had, wrapping their arms around him and giving into their heart that they opened up so anxiously to the world. “ I love you. I love all of you.” That time, they looked around them, taking the time to share a glance at everyone, disregarding the way their backwards world could they offer their dying breaths and it be called beautiful. 

Emilio, the man that hated them without a second thought became one of their greatest allies, and even better friend. 

Patricia, a woman who so lost in her failure that she nearly lost sight of what she could have. Now she had everything, and the best was yet to come. 

Teagan, a girl who kept everyone at arm’s length, was now using those very limbs to encase people with love. 

Cass, once a stranger that prevented them from being their own worst enemy. She shared Metzli’s  fear of loneliness and abandonment so intimately that she became tightly entangled in their heart and made a family. Their first. 

Teddy, a boy who was never chosen despite holding the biggest heart made of gold that persevered through loneliness, and now, finally, he knew what unconditional love from a parent was. 

Eilidh, the first and only woman Metzli ever loved. With her heart as full and lively as every garden she tended, she gave the vampire everything, even if it was to her detriment. She found their heart, but she’d always be their soul. Their death so early on in their relationship was not the ending they wanted, but they handed her the seeds for the future and were giving her a watering can to nurture something into bloom. Each petal would be marked with their love and she would be reminded every day that they would never leave her. With their sacrifice, with their love, they were painting the future in the background with only 30 minutes left. 

And yes, they would all grieve. But Metzli found comfort that their deep grief meant that they loved fully. They all opened their hearts despite the inevitable. Metzli had many regrets, but never would they regret the love they gave, or anything they did in the name of it. 

With one final round of hugs and a lingering kiss for Eilidh, the ending was cemented. Each rumble and shake grew in strength, leading a flurry of tremors to course through Metzli as their legs settled in the driver side. “Please, take care of each other. Please.” They faced everyone, rolling the window down and shutting the door with their face tear-stained and red. “And Cass?” They chuckled dryly, a glimmer of humor pushing through with a twitchy, quick nod. “Tell amá I love her, okay? And check Macleod’s glove compartment in her trailer. There’s a little present there for you.”

It wouldn’t have mattered if the quakes hadn’t been trembling through the ground, wouldn’t have mattered if the sun was high in the sky or the clouds were all far away. In that moment, no matter what the world actually looked like, all Cass would have seen was darkness. The scene blurred around her as her eyes filled up with tears, and she shook her head again, adamant. It couldn’t end like this. After everything, it couldn’t end like this. They’d made it out. They’d gotten all the way to the edge of town, had plans to go farther, had a future all mapped out and ready to go. They were all supposed to survive this. They were all supposed to be okay.

But the world, Cass had learned long ago, never gave much of a shit about the way things were supposed to be. It didn’t matter that Metzli was going off to stop the apocalypse, didn’t matter that a dozen other people were giving their lives for the same reason. The world was ending anyway. It already had.

Cass clung to Metzli stubbornly as they hugged her, and she wanted to drag the vampire with them, wanted to say fuck the world, let it end, I don’t care even if it wasn’t true. She was too kindhearted to doom the world, even if hers would be so much emptier without Metzli in it. Even if it felt like the apocalypse might as well have been successful in this moment.

She sniffled as Metzli spoke again, nodding her head even as her throat burned, even as her chest ached. Whatever present Metzli had left for her would be far too small to fill the void carved out in her life, but at least she’d have something to hold onto. At least she’d have something tangible to remind her that once, for a moment, someone had loved her like this. 

Too soon, the goodbyes were over. There wasn’t enough time in the world to say everything they wanted to say, and there certainly wasn’t enough time now. Metzli had to go, and so did the rest of them. Someone tugged her back towards the cars, Teddy’s boyfriend practically dragging him along, and everything hurt long after Cass was settled into the seat with a seatbelt holding her in place, long after Metzli disappeared in the rear view mirror. 

A glass of whiskey held Patricia’s attention as she stared down at it, gently swirling the liquid while watching it closely. Eventually, she stopped, letting the liquid fall still, before slamming it back and loudly setting the glass down on the wooden countertop. Just as the bartender could open their mouth to cut her off of drinks for the night, Patricia simply put a hand up to stop them. “I know, I know. Shush and take the tip, pal.” She pulled her wallet out, rifling through the cash before setting several 20 dollar bills on the bar, not specifying whether it was all for the bartender or if she wanted part of it to go towards paying her tab.

As Patricia slowly stood from her seat, she wobbled a bit but quickly found her footing, starting towards the bar exit. She tended to spend nights here when she had nothing better to do, which meant she was spending a few more nights here every week after her episode in The Ring. She didn’t have much trouble finding the door, taking a deep breath of refreshing night air after exiting the establishment. She caught the scent of something, or rather, somebody, on the wind.

Somebody was nearby, waiting for her, and Patricia noticed. She did her best to steel herself, not wanting to risk getting into a fight tonight if she could help it. After a few more moments of sniffing the air like a lunatic, she locked onto the source of the scent, locking eyes with him.

It wasn’t the kid’s parents who hired him. That wasn’t a rare thing, in cases like this one, but it always stirred something in Emilio’s gut, anyway. Blake Sullivan was barely out of his teenage years, and he’d been missing for at least three days now, but it wasn’t his parents who’d shifted their weight nervously in front of Emilio’s desk at Axis and set an envelope full of cash down in front of him with a hopeful smile. Instead, it was three other kids who were also barely out of their teenage years. His friends, they told him, who’d been looking everywhere for him with little results. 

The cash they gave him wasn’t technically enough to cover his fees, but he’d pretended not to notice when he’d tucked it into his desk drawer because they were kids and they were scared and Emilio was a goddamn idiot when it came to scared kids. He listened as they talked about Blake’s habits, paying close attention when they brought up the Ring, which he knew about only in the vaguest terms. Emilio did try to stay away from trouble where he could, and the Ring was the kind of thing he’d steered clear of for the most part.

At least, until a bunch of scared fucking kids showed up in his office with a missing friend and a connection to the place. 

His investigation turned over a few stones right off the bat; Patricia Moore was one of them. Her habits weren’t hard to track, and they were a little too familiar for comfort. A bar, a few nights a week. The same stool in the back, the same pattern of drinking until they wouldn’t serve her anymore and then heading home. Tonight, Emilio waited outside, smoking a cigarette as he leaned against the wall. When she stepped out, he could see the way she tensed. He figured she knew he was here. And that was fine. He wasn’t looking to sneak up on her, anyway. He didn’t think she had anything to do with Blake Sullivan’s disappearance. But that didn’t mean she didn’t know anything about it.

Putting his cigarette out and dropping the butt to the sidewalk, he pushed himself off the wall and stepped forward, hands up and palms out. “I just want to talk,” he said, low and cautious. “I’m not looking for a fight here. I’m Emilio. You’re Patricia, right?”

Watching as the man finished his smoke and tossed it aside, Patricia remained silent as he approached. This person didn’t seem prepared for a hunt or a fight of any kind, nor did he seem the type to start anything in such a public place. She was very obviously scanning Emilio open for any hidden weapons or signs of attack, but found nothing more than the usual. Maybe this interaction wouldn’t be as bad as she’d assumed.

Patricia sighed as he spoke, mentally preparing herself as best she could. Worse than just a hunter, it was a journalist. Probably. She didn’t really know, but the assumption was already made. “They always just want to talk.” She watched him closely, though she was a bit out of it. If he did try to start something, she’d certainly fail to react fast enough. She figured it’d be better to just talk for now. “Depends on who’s asking… nah, I’m just fucking with you, I’m Patricia.” 

“So, what do you want to know? You writing a puff piece or exposing somebody or what? Because I don’t talk to my clients much at all, if that’s what this is about.”

Leaning her back against the wall, Patricia pulled a pack of cigarettes from her pocket, rifling through her other pocket for a lighter and realizing it had fallen through a hole in her pocket. “Shit. You got a light?” Patricia hadn’t realized that Emilio probably had a lighter if he was just smoking moments ago, but that required too much brain power to think about. She held her cigarette out towards Emilio for him to light it.

She seemed a little put at ease by his stance of surrender, though it by no means made Emilio any less dangerous. There was a knife in his sleeve that could find its way to his hand in a heartbeat if he needed it, but he had no intention of using it here unless he had to. Paranoia meant he wasn’t unarmed, even when he slept. But this really was just a conversation. 

He tilted his head thoughtfully as she went on. It was clear that she thought he was something he wasn’t — a journalist, from the sounds of it. Emilio decided to roll with the assumption. People were wary of private detectives, sometimes; some kind of strange assumption that they were on the same level as police, he thought, with some kind of duty to uphold the law. It wasn’t true, of course, but people heard detective and they got squirrely. It made things harder than they needed to be, sometimes. Maybe pretending to be a journalist would loosen Patricia’s lips a little easier.

“Something like that,” he replied with a shrug. “I’m writing an investigative piece on missing persons in White Crest. A whole spread on why so many of them disappear the way they do, you know. I’m looking into a kid who disappeared a few days back, and a source told me you might know him. I was hoping you could provide some insight. Your name wouldn’t show up anywhere in the piece if you didn’t want it to.” He wasn’t sure it was an entirely believable lie, but he didn’t know enough about journalism to come up with a better one. 

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his lighter and flicked it on, holding the flame against her cigarette until it was lit. “Kid’s name is Blake Sullivan,” he said, tucking the lighter back into his pocket. “He’s twenty. Hangs out around Amity Road.”

“You’re looking into missing people in White Crest? Good fucking luck with that, buddy. I’m sure you know better than most why so many people here go missing.” Patricia pulled her cigarette to her mouth and took a deep drag from it, exhaling the smoke out of the side of her mouth, so as to not blow it into Emilio’s face. She was rather pessimistic when it came to people dying or going missing in this town. Normally, they never got found, and sometimes it was better to just not look for them.

Hearing that it was a kid, something deep down pulled at her heartstrings, just as she was about to tell this guy to leave. “I’ll help however I can, but keep my damn name out of it. That kind of attention isn’t great for business.” A sober Patricia would probably be skeptical of the story being told to her, but right now she didn’t think twice about this stranger’s cover story.

Patricia thought for a moment on the name, it sounded oddly familiar, but she’d definitely never met the person. Then, it clicked, her eyes widening in recognition as she gave a prompt nod of understanding. “I’ve heard of him before, from the announcer down at The Ring. He was a newbie, don’t know if he was participating voluntarily or not though.”

After a short pause, Patricia took another puff from her cigarette, focusing on the burning paper at the end while she released the smoke from her lungs. “Chances are, they took the kid because he looks ripe, and they’re putting him to work, or he’s dead. Luckily for you, I can get you in there if you really want to find him, but once you’re in you don’t mention me ever again. I make… made good money there.”

“Hey, I don’t call the shots. My boss wants the story done, assigned me to write it. I go where they tell me to.” She seemed to buy the lie, at least for now. Emilio might have figured he’d been lucky to catch her in an inebriated state if that hadn’t been an intentional move on his part. People were always a little more honest when they were drunk. Even him. 

He saw something in her expression soften ever so slightly as he continued his story. He wasn’t the only one with a soft spot for kids, evidently. With a nod, he agreed to the condition. “You’ll be an anonymous source,” he promised. And it was true; her name would certainly never feature in any kind of public article, and he’d have no reason to share it with Blake Sullivan’s friends when he told them what he’d found. They wouldn’t care how he’d gotten the information. They’d only care what the information was. Emilio just wished there was more of a shot at it being good news.

Because it was probably going to end up another White Crest tragedy. He knew that. Kids in this town didn’t go missing only to show up a few days later hungover and embarrassed. Kids in this town went missing and turned up piece by piece if they turned up at all. Odds were, Blake Sullivan would not be an exception to this rule, especially not if he was tied up with the Ring. 

“Yeah,” he sighed at the confirmation, rubbing at the back of his head with a tired expression, “that’s what I’m worried about.” Either the kid was stuck doing fight after fight with no say in the matter or they’d already gotten rid of his body. Either way, it was probably going to get messy. His brows shot up as Patricia offered to get him into the Ring. “Like I said, nobody ever finds out your name. You have my word on that one.” He hadn’t been expecting this level of involvement from her. At most, he figured she’d confirm that the kid was in the Ring, maybe have some information on whether or not he was dead. But this… This was a lot better than Emilio had hoped for. “You should know, if I find him in there, I’m pulling him out. Might not fall under the typical journalism perimeters, but I won’t leave him there.”

“Good, because if I find out you snitched, I’ll break you.” Patricia didn’t seem like she could fulfill that threat right now, but if she found out about it later she’d certainly act on it. She looked around, hoping Emilio drove here instead of walking, so she wouldn’t have to walk all the way over to where The Ring was. “So, where’s your ride? The deal is off if I have to walk.” She grumbled, taking one last drag from her cigarette before tossing it onto the sidewalk and stomping it out with the heel of her shoe.

Deciding to trust him for now, Patricia let her doubtful thoughts fade for the time being. It wasn’t like she had much of a choice, anyways. Keeping thoughts in focus was a chore in her current state. “Honestly, I expected that from you. You’ve got the fuckin’ ‘knight in shining armor’ vibe, ya know?” Shrugging, she decided that it would probably be best to warn Emilio rather than letting him rush in blind. “You’ll probably die if you just run in there, or worse, you’ll end up stuck as a fighter. On nights like these, the place is filled with the best of the best and the worst of the worst. Be real quiet about it, so I don’t have to hear that you went missing too on the morning news. You’d get in the way of the segments where they show off new stray dogs.”

“You’ll try,” Emilio retorted, but there was a good-natured grin on his face as he said it. He was sure that, sober, she was a formidable threat. She wouldn’t have been involved with the Ring if she weren’t, after all. At her question, he sucked his teeth. Technically speaking, Emilio didn’t have a car. Despite the obvious downsides involved with walking, it was how he tended to get around. But, luckily… He was pretty damn good at knowing which cars were safe to ‘borrow.’ With a quick glance around the street, he settled on an older model that likely didn’t have an alarm and looked to have been parked on the curb for a while. “Here,” he said, indicating to it. Navigating around to the driver’s side, he subtly yanked the handle with enough strength to break the lock and slid in, leaning over to unlock the passengers’ door as well. It’d be parked back in the same spot before whoever left it there would know it was missing. 

Fiddling with the wiring under the ignition in a way he hoped wasn’t too obvious as Patricia settled into her seat, he snorted. “Really? Don’t get that one very often.” The engine roared to life, and he shrugged a shoulder as he put the car into gear. “Worse things than dying. And I can handle myself pretty well in a fight.” Not that he’d ever let himself get nabbed. He would have figured out an in without Patricia’s help, he was sure, but… it was nice to have a better option available. “You don’t gotta worry about me. I’ll be in and out before they know I was there.”

Climbing into the passengers’ seat, Patricia slumped into the chair and pulled the belt over herself, trying for a bit longer than she should have had to before she was able to successfully buckle up. She soon turned on the radio, switching through the channels to find something good, eventually ending up on some indie music radio station. Sober Patricia probably would’ve asked to mess with the radio, but at the moment she couldn’t care less as long as she got to listen to some good tunes. She failed to notice Emilio’s hotwiring, but she wouldn’t complain even if she had noticed. “I hope you know the way, because there is no way in hell I’m giving directions right now.”

As he started driving, Patricia leaned the side of her head against the window, watching the passing streetlights. A part of her wanted to roll down the window to feel the breeze on her face, but another part of her felt like she’d get nauseous from doing so. “I don’t think there are worse things than dying. Dying’s pretty bad, and if you want to get in a fight with a bunch of bloodthirsty lunatics, don’t let me stop you.” She joked, chuckling quietly to herself. “Alright, good. When we get out, you can give me a ride home since I’m helping you. Ooh, and we can get some food, I’d murder somebody for a burger right now.” Forgetting that there would be a formerly missing passenger in the car, the intoxicated werewolf in the passenger seat let her appetite plan for the rest of the night.

“Yeah, yeah, I know the way.” Emilio made it a point to know where things like the Ring were in White Crest, if only so he could better avoid them. It was important, he knew, to maintain awareness of anything that might prove to be a danger. It might not stop it from killing you, but at least it would ensure you died on your feet. He wondered, absently, what made someone like Patricia get involved with the Ring in the first place, but… he didn’t have to wonder for long. In all honesty, he understood it. It was the kind of thing he might have found himself tangled up with under different circumstances, with all his rage and all his grief. Sometimes, you just needed something to hold onto. Even if it was violence. 

He glanced over as she fiddled with the radio but made no move to stop her, focusing the bulk of his attention on the road ahead as he drove. It wasn’t entirely necessary — at this time of night, there were few other cars on the road — but it gave him something to do. “Nah,” he said quietly, tapping his finger against the wheel. “I can think of plenty worse.” He thought he’d probably rather be dead than be in the tangled web of fae bonds and demonic obsession that he was stuck in now. Half amused, he glanced over at Patricia as she went on a drunken tangent, nodding his head. “We can go through a drive thru,” he offered. The kid would probably be hungry, too. “But we need to focus on getting this done first.” It wasn’t long before he was pulling up in front of the building that housed the Ring, putting the car into park. “Focus up, all right? Gonna need you for this part.”

“Well, I can’t. Death is the most permanent thing ever, well, unless you become undead. I never really thought about that.” Patricia lightly shrugged and looked to the building, unbuckling her seat belt and stepping out of the car. She tried to compose herself, not wanting to look like she’d just come from the bar, even though she had. She made her way around the side of the building, approaching a heavy metal door next to the large metal garbage containers. Knocking a few times with no discernible rhythm or pattern prompted the slot on the door to slide open with a loud mechanical clank, a pair of eyes looking from Patricia to Emilio. “Let me in, dickhead. I brought a guest.” After another mechanical clank rang out from the metal slot closing, before the door was unlocked and opened in front of them.

“Nice one, you never bring guests, Trish.” The scrawny person at the door teased Patricia, just like most people did now that she’d stopped fighting.

But Patricia was not going to let it pass this time. Walking past them with Emilio in tow, a swift stomp onto the stranger’s foot and a passing glare was enough to let them know that she still demanded respect. Returning her attention to what lay ahead, Patricia followed the maze of hallways to The Ring itself, finding a seat for them to sit in near the back row. “The basements are where you’ll find what you’re looking for. Here.” She offered Emilio her business card, which, among other information, had her phone number on it. “I’m going to rest my eyes, so call me when you’re done and I’ll meet ya outside.”

“It’s the end of something,” Emilio replied with a shrug, as if that was all that needed saying. Maybe it was. After all, the reason why death… tempted him the way it did was because of that definitive end, because of the way nothing would continue past it. When your life seemed to be an endless parade of tragedy, any end was a good one. Even if the thing that was ending was you. He stepped out of the car, walking around to the passenger’s side so he could continue to the building in step with Patricia. He waited as she knocked, raised a brow at the eyes that peered at him from the slot on the door. He could feel them sizing him up. 

The door opened without much fanfare, and Emilio let Patricia lead him over to a seat. When she settled down, he raised a brow. “You don’t want to tag along for this part?” He could hardly blame her. She clearly had a connection to this place, and if she came with him… There were few things that could sever that connection more completely than being caught in the act of something like this. Emilio knew that. Pulling a scrap of paper from his pocket, he scribbled his cell phone number onto it. “Do me a favor and text me if you get wind of anyone heading down to the basement to kill me or whatever. I’ll let you know when I’m done.”

Patricia almost seemed offended that Emilio offered her the chance to come with, quickly shaking her head in response, before pulling her sunglasses from her pocket and slipping them on. “Hell no, you go in yourself, lone ranger. You’re the one with a death wish.” Taking the piece of paper, she let out a small sigh as she pulled her phone out, struggling a bit to open it and add the correct number, almost like her finger wasn’t tapping exactly where she wanted it to. “You got it, I’ll come out there when you’re, try not to die because I don’t want to walk home… and because of the kid or whatever. Good luck.”

Eventually, Patricia managed to get the number on her phone, allowing her to return her attention to the brawl that was currently underway. It was one of the more ‘normal’ matches, what looked to be two humans boxing with established rules in place, but there was still knowledge to be gained from watching. As she watched them fight each other, trading blows back and forth, she couldn’t help but feel envious. She’d give anything to be down there in the spotlight, beating some poor soul senseless to numb whatever emotion was bothering her in the moment. When the match eventually ended after several minutes, Patricia was almost disappointed, but the realization set in that some guards would probably be heading down to the basement cages soon to fetch some new fighters, so she quickly pulled her phone out and sent a message. It was clearly written by a drunk, panicked person, but it still got the point of ‘get the hell out of there’ across.

Her response, of course, wasn’t entirely unexpected. It had been pretty clear in their earlier conversation that Patricia had no desire to face down death, and this task certainly carried a risk of it. Emilio huffed at her words all the same, ducking his head to hide an amused expression. “All right. Well, if I die, feel free to snag the wallet off my corpse and call yourself a cab.” It was probably the least he could do. 

Turning on his heel, he slid through the crowd carefully and made his way towards the doors to the basement. They weren’t unguarded, of course, but the guards were pretty damn distracted. One of them was chatting up a girl who looked far too young to be holding the beer in her hand, and Emilio felt a surge of irritation that he quickly stomped down. It made the guard easy to slip passed, though he made a note to fucking clock the guy if getting out quietly didn’t end up being an option. Once through the door, Patricia’s earlier instructions acted as an easy enough guide despite how drunk she’d been when she’d given them. He pulled out his cell phone, glancing down at the photo Blake Sullivan’s friends had provided him with. In it, the kid was sandwiched between two of the kids who’d hired Emilio, grinning like a madman. Something told the hunter his expression would be different when he found him here.

The cages were depressing to look at. Emilio glanced in each one only long enough to verify that the kid he was looking for wasn’t the one occupying it. Most of the occupants barely acknowledged him. After a few minutes of searching, he spotted a sandy blonde head of hair inside one of the cages. Carefully, he glanced down at his phone again to confirm the identity, then tapped a finger against the bars. “Hey, Blake.”

The kid looked up at the sound of his name. “Who are you?” His voice was tight and angry and terrified. Emilio turned his phone around to show the picture.

“Relax. Your buddies told me you got into some hot water, sent me to throw you a life raft. My name’s Emilio. I’m gonna get you out of here.” His phone buzzed, and he turned it around to see Patricia’s message and cursed. “I’m gonna get you out of here fast,” he said, quickly removing his lockpick tool from his belt and getting started on the door. “You good to walk? Because I might need you to run.”

“Walking and running aren’t the same thing,” Blake pointed out, curiously wandering over to the door of his cage to watch Emilio work the lock.

“All right, smart ass. You’re lucky I’m getting paid not to leave you here.” He kept his tone light enough to make sure the kid would know it was a joke, and the lock popped open to punctuate it. Emilio let out a relieved sigh. “C’mon. We need to go now.” 

Patricia slowly stood from her seat, making her way towards the exit, though she grumbled upon spotting the door-guard in her way. She didn’t know how Emilio would get out without there being a distraction of some kind, but she also knew that starting a fight could possibly force a shift in her body that would send her reeling in pain, so she had to think creatively. Luckily, she was in the perfect mind to think creatively. “Hey, dickhead.” She made sure to sound as drunk as possible in her speech, which wasn’t exactly difficult at the moment. “You’re bad at your job.”

“So are you, Patty the choker.” The watch-person retorted, wearing a shit eating grin as they teased the former champion standing before them. It was then they suddenly saw a body hurtling at them like a blur, a look of horror crossing their face for only a few short moments before impact.

Throwing her body sideways at the poor guard, their head soon met the metal door with a loud thud, before they collapsed over loudly onto the cold, hard floor. She didn’t intend to do more than cause a distraction, but managing her own strength was out of the picture. She quickly fiddled with the door, sliding aside the metal bars and latches that held it closed normally, before heading out. Patricia safely made it to the car with the large metal door cracked, before sending another hastily written text to Emilio. 

“Back doors unlockd, hurry beefore shitbreath wakes up.”

Resting her eyes, all Patricia could think about was how good some chicken nuggets sounded right now, a satisfied and tired grin on her lips. 

As soon as the cage was open, Emilio reached in and grabbed Blake by the shoulder, hauling him out. The kid needed to lean against him a little, but he was mobile. And that was good. They didn’t have enough time for anything else. Emilio half dragged the kid back the way he’d come, ignoring the cries of protest from all the still-locked cages they were leaving behind. There was nothing he could do for the people and creatures inside them; he knew that. 

His phone buzzed again as he made it to the stairs, and a quick glance down at it showed another largely misspelled text from Patricia. Luckily, he was pretty decent at understanding drunkspeak. A side effect, he figured, of having to decipher his own sent messages when he sobered up enough to read them. 

“All right,” he said, pulling Blake through the door, “we’re going out the back. Come on.” 

“Hey!” A voice called out behind them. Emilio propped Blake up on the wall and whirled around. It was the pisspoor guard he’d slipped passed earlier, the one who’d been a little too busy hitting on some kid to recognize that someone was doing the exact thing he was being paid to keep people from doing. 

Emilio smiled viciously, patting Blake on the shoulder. “Back door,” he told the kid. “Go as far as you can. I’ll meet you in a second.” Hesitantly, Blake nodded and moved forward, pace slow but steady. 

“I don’t know who the fuck you think you are,” the guard growled, taking a step forward, “but I’m going to make you sorry you —”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence. Emilio closed the space between them with two determined strides and swung his fist hard, feeling the man’s nose break against his knuckles. Blood spurted from the man’s nose as he fell, hands already going up to cup his face with a cry. “Go fuck yourself,” Emilio told him, then turned back towards the exit. Blake was already at the door, hesitating and looking back. Emilio made a note to berate the kid for not just leaving him once they were in the clear. For now, though, he only grabbed him by the arm, leading him to the stolen car where Patricia was already waiting.

Depositing Blake in the back seat, Emilio climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine with the wires under the steering wheel, putting the car into gear and quickly pulling out into the street. “Blake, Patricia. Patricia, Blake. We’re going to hit a drive thru. You want anything?”

“Sup, Blake.” Slowly, Patricia leaned over to look back at the kid, narrowing her eyes as she racked her mind, trying to pinpoint where she remembered his face from. “Oh shit, you’re the dude who got decked the day before yesterday and folded like an omelet.” She laughed, finding it a bit funny, before she remembered that he was kidnapped and held captive for a few days. She then abruptly stopped, turning to look back ahead.

She felt a bit guilty, much less than she would feel if she were sober, but the feeling was still there. “I’m.. sorry, kid. That place sucks, but they won’t come back for you if it’s any consolation. Just try not to hang around that building anymore.” It slowly hit her that she fought there willingly, but there were some that didn’t have the choice. Some of the people she fought were unable to back out, or even make it home.

Are you okay with that?

The thought was gone as soon as it had arrived, but it certainly left a mark, like a bruise. It was another of the thoughts that could not be silenced, because it made far too much sense to be devalued. A part of Patricia did truly want to help people, but she didn’t know how to do so without causing more pain, because at the end of the day, causing pain was the only productive thing she knew how to do. She was visibly lost in thought during the drive, her head leaned against the car window, watching the passing buildings.

Blake offered Patricia a nervous smile in greeting, though the expression faded when she laughed. “I didn’t exactly ask to get into that fight,” he muttered, clearly irritated. When she apologized, he only shrugged sullenly. Emilio sighed. The kid couldn’t have been much more than a fucking teenager, and he certainly looked like one now with his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes fixed on something out the window. He wondered how many of the people he’d left in those cages had been like this; kids who hadn’t asked for the shit they’d been pulled into. A stab of guilt twisted in his gut like a knife.

“All right,” he said, trying to pull himself from the thought. “Enough of that shit. Blake’s not going back to that damn building, so it’s not gonna be a problem. And if anybody hassles him, he’ll have my number.” Even though he wouldn’t be able to hide behind the guise of a paycheck by that point. He watched Blake in the rearview mirror until the kid nodded, then turned his attention back to the road. 

After a moment, he saw the bright lights of a restaurant and pulled off into the drive thru, glancing in the mirror again. “I want fries,” Blake said in response to Emilio’s raised brows. With a nod, the slayer turned to the passenger’s seat, where Patricia rested her head against the window.

“Hey,” he said, trying to get her attention. “What do you want? I’m not paying for a four course meal here, so don’t go trying to order the whole damn menu. And this is a one-time thing. As payment for helping us out back there.”

Patricia’s brows furrowed in thought as she tried with all she could to decide on exactly what she wanted. “I want a chicken nugget meal with one of those orange drinks, and don’t skimp on the sauce, I want barbeque.” A content, somewhat excited smile rested on the werewolf’s face as she sat in the passenger seat, looking away from the window to look over at Emilio and the kid in the back seat, looking back and forth between them for a moment. Eventually, her gaze settled on Blake.

“Hey, kid, you got a name or something? Not yours, though, the name of somebody you want me to beat up in The Ring.” Combing a hand through her hair, she only ended up messing it up a bit rather than straightening it out. “I’m pretty big shit, and when I get back in there to reclaim my crown, I’ll go extra hard on whoever you want, because I’m nice.”

With an exaggerated toothy grin that showed off her rather sharp canine teeth, Patricia tried to reassure the stranger that had been kidnapped that she was truly nice, in her own special way. She then quickly snapped her attention to Emilio, staring at him while he ordered, and only opening her mouth to speak once he was done. “And you… thanks, I’ve been meanin’ to head in there and crack some heads to free some more of the ‘fresh hires’ at that place, just haven’t gotten around to it since the loss. If you ever need to investigate the place again, I’ll give you a hand, in exchange for food or drinks, of course.” She could definitely afford her own food, but something about free food made it taste so much better.

Nodding at Patricia’s request, Emilio recited the order into the speaker and pulled around to the window. For a moment, as he collected the food and paid the tired fast food employee, he sat in silence. He listened to Patricia offer to beat up whoever Blake wanted her to in the Ring, smiled faintly when the kid immediately responded with a name, like he’d had it ready. He sounded a little less timid now that he was snacking on the fries Emilio had passed back to him; a sign, the slayer figured, that he’d be all right in the end. 

“Any time you wanna go back, I’m there,” he replied, pulling out of the restaurant’s parking lot and into the street. “Any time. People like that…” He trailed off, thinking of the guard and the too-young girl and the cages full of people like Blake who probably hadn’t done much of anything wrong. “There’s some things I don’t mind doing for free.” After a few more minutes of driving, he pulled the car back into the spot where he’d found it, near the bar where he’d met Patricia. Tapping his fingers on the wheel, he turned to face her with a nod. “You’ve got my number. You can use it if you need me.”