Will Wizard For Coffee

“It’s alright,” Thomas tried to assure her, to assure himself, but the words came out garbled by damaged jaw and teeth. “Iss a-igh,” he slurred instead.

He tried to lean up to kiss her, but hissed in pain and sank back to the cot as shattered bones and weakened muscles rebelled against the effort. Instead he tugged her closer. He wouldn’t have been strong enough to pull her anywhere if she pulled away, or even if she didn’t lean into his touch.

He was still so hungry. It wasn’t enough. It was never enough. Pain was supposed to go away when he fed but it didn’t. He still felt like he was starving.

He lurched forward off the cot, trying to reach her, trying to devour every last bit of sustenance from her limp frame. Fresh agony shot through him but didn’t stop him.

The man in the way wasn’t moving so Thomas threw himself forward still snarling, unable to focus enough to even try to demand he get out of the way.

Rabid.  Put it down.

It flashed through his mind without his permission and he hardly had time to hate himself for it before Thomas was charging him blindly. The charge lasted a scant couple of paces before Thomas staggered,  his rage outpacing his body’s limits and he crumpled,  forward momentum turning a murderous charge into an agonized slide.  Harry winced,  Thomas’ body was hardly more than an emaciated bruise and if he hit the floor, Harry wasn’t sure he’d ever stand again.  Harry dropped to catch him,  trying to shield the most vicious of his injuries from the hard cabin floor.  

Don’t fight family,  they know you too well.  

He felt a sudden chill and then warmth as he lowered Thomas to the ground. When he looked down he saw red.  On his shirt,  and Thomas,’ on the knife in Thomas’ hand. For a surreal moment Harry simply watched the blood pooling before his brain abruptly caught up with what the winter mantle was hiding from him.  

They’ll turn on you, Frog.  Even if it destroys them.  It’s what they are.    

The old man was right.             

No.

NO.                                                          

“Damn it, Thomas,”  Harry hissed. The pain was creeping up through the mantle; muted and distant.  He felt cold fire flood his limbs ,  supplementing their sudden weakness with something icy and sharp and foreign. 

Thomas held the blade still, his whole body shaking with exertion, eyes flashing.    

"It's alright," Thomas tried to assure her, to assure himself, but the words came out garbled by damaged jaw and teeth. "Iss a-igh," he slurred instead.

He tried to lean up to kiss her, but hissed in pain and sank back to the cot as shattered bones and weakened muscles rebelled against the effort. Instead he tugged her closer. He wouldn't have been strong enough to pull her anywhere if she pulled away, or even if she didn't lean into his touch.

He’d lived with Thomas for long enough to have become accustomed to a steady stream of visitors. He’d come to terms with loud nights (and mornings … and afternoons.) It made him hesitate outside the door where Thomas was fighting for his life when he heard a feminine moan. For a moment that felt normal, to be expected.  But this was different. Thomas was dying, and he wasn’t safe to be around.

He’s never safe to be around, a voice in his head pointed out, one that sounded enough like his grandfather that Harry felt a quick twist of nausea in his gut.  A groan of agony made his decision for him and Harry shoved the door open.

A woman was pressed to his brother’s chest. Her ragged hair shadowed her face but her form was limp, locked in place by Thomas’ arm in a display of strength his wasted body should not have been capable of.

Harry reacted on instinct, diving forward and grabbing the woman to drag her from his brother’s grasp. Her head lolled to one side as Harry tugged on her, and he felt sick. There was a time Harry never could have competed with Thomas’ physical strength. That was before the mantle, and before the Svartalves. The woman came free of Thomas’ grip with alarming rapidity and Harry stumbled backwards, her body hitting the floor of the cabin with a dull thud. He couldn’t spare a glance for her, even to see if she had survived. Thomas was struggling forward weakly, agony etched onto his face, and dangerous as a wounded bear.

“Uhuh. You do realize that is not a reasonable battlecry, right? Nor is it a reasonable way to wake me up.”

“I don’t know,” Thomas snapped, but his anger was more at himself than at Harry’s persistence. “I don’t know her name. I don’t know if she has a family. I don’t know if there is anyone who loves her. I don’t know if anyone is looking for her. I don’t know if anyone is wondering why she isn’t home yet, but I do know that if there is, they will never find the body and will never get any closure. Is that what you want to hear?” The anger faded away and he just sounded lost.

“I didn’t want her to die for me, Harry. And if I thought she was disposable I wouldn’t be here.”

He closed his eyes for a moment. His side still ached fiercely and exhaustion threatened to overtake him.

“What are you actually suggesting? That Justine and I just disappear and go on the run together? I can’t do that. I wish I could. Justine wishes I could. She doesn’t like it when I come home eviscerated.” He tried to say it as a joke, but Harry could see a bit too much truth behind it to take it as one.

Because one part of Harry’s accusation was true. Lara’s protection of Justine could very easily turn sour. He wouldn’t go so far as to call Justine a hostage at this point, but that was a very real future possibility. Which didn’t change the importance of the missions he was on these days.

“But I can’t just leave.You have no idea just how much I wish I could, but it’s not that simple and it’s not just about Lara. And it’s not about me. It’s not even primarily about Justine.” He met Harry’s eyes for the first time since he turned up on the couch. “I’m doing important work. Not enough to justify the price, but it matters and I can’t abandon it.”

It’s not about Lara?

There were a couple dozen things about the last few minutes that made Harry wish he’d learned to keep his mouth shut every once in a while.  That wasn’t one of them.  Thomas is getting hurt often enough for Justine to have an opinion on the subject and he’s not playing Lara’s games?

*sigh* To be fair, Harry has gotten slightly smarter about that than he used to be. Now she would probably at least have to appear completely human and in some sort of distress for him to jump off a cliff for her. Probably.

“Uhuh. You do realize that is not a reasonable battlecry, right? Nor is it a reasonable way to wake me up.”

Thomas snorted at Harry’s apparent confidence that the new apartment would be blown up eventually, then winced as he jostled his wounds.

“You wiped out the entire species that blew up your last place,” Thomas pointed out. “No one is exactly lining up to be next.” Sure, that wasn’t actually the reason Harry destroyed the Red Court, but they hadn’t spread the real reason around so a lot of the supernatural community came up with their own answer. And them blowing up Harry’s apartment was as good an explanation as any.

Harry walked away to gather medical supplies and Thomas slumped back, closing his eyes. He didn’t trust most people, especially when he was injured. Predators prefer weakened targets, and he came from a family of predators. But Thomas didn’t feel any need to keep an eye on Harry while he rifled a doubtless poorly stocked first aid kit.

Thomas was mostly asleep by the time Harry returned. He mumbled in the negative when Harry’s voice asked if he was awake, then swore and snapped “I am now,” as Harry pressed some kind of bandage against his wound. He sat up a little to make Harry’s work easier, and to drink the beer. “I’m guessing you don’t have anything stronger,” he grumbled. Mac’s tasted good, but it’s usefulness as a painkiller was extremely limited.

Originally posted by mabesies

“I can’t stay. Tonight, maybe tomorrow, just long enough to heal a little, but I can’t stay long. I’ve got my own place, you know. With Justine.” And there it was. He couldn’t move back in with his brother and pretend Lara didn’t exist, because Justine made such a convenient hostage against his cooperation. Lara wouldn’t push it for staying away for a few days, just long enough to not kill anyone else this time, but if she felt like she was completely loosing his loyalty that could change. And Thomas didn’t want to hurt strangers, but he wouldn’t risk Justine.

“What the hell were you fighting?”  Harry asked,  eyeing Thomas pointedly.  “This was another of Lara’s crusades wasn’t it?”  

Thomas dropped his gaze and it was all the answer Harry needed.  

“So now what?” Harry spat, voice tight with anger.  “I’ll see you the next time Lara uses you as a weapon then tosses some disposable girl at you?”  

Frustration boiled over into hot anger.  Lara would use him and use him and use him up until there was nothing left but the hunger.  And Thomas was going to let her do it. 

“Stars and stones, Thomas, this isn’t you.  You killed someone.  Do you even know her name?  She was someone’s kid.  Maybe someone loved her.  Maybe someone is never going to know why she never came home.” 

He went where?! With who?!

willwizardforcoffee‌:

You know how it is,  one minute you’re thinking about whether the earring thing is still a thing; and the next you’ve got a gig in the underworld and three days before your head pops like a overinflated water balloon.  

Besides, I didn’t have much of a choice.  She backed me into a corner.

Oh, get this…  Ask me what his dog’s name means.  Come on- it’s great.  

“Before your head… WHAT THE HELL HAS BEEN GOING ON?!?!?!”

“It means spot,”  Harry grumbled,  voice more than a little petulant.  “He named his dog-” Harry sighed. “You’ve ruined it.” 

“Uhuh. You do realize that is not a reasonable battlecry, right? Nor is it a reasonable way to wake me up.”

Of course Lara would have made sure everything was cleaned up.

“I…” he trailed off because he didn’t know how to finish that sentence. I’m sorry? or I didn’t mean to do it? or even I would have died without feeding? It was all true and none of it mattered one damn bit.

“I didn’t mean to drop this on you. But I didn’t have anywhere else.”

“You can always come here, Thomas.  Always.  I mean,  until the next time I get it blown up.”

“Then you’ll have to come to the next place, but you get the idea.“

Harry lifted the stained towel slightly to see if the bleeding had slowed.  It had, finally, and the towel had taken on an unnatural pinkish red color. Harry considered for a moment and then tossed it across the room into a trashcan.  Standing, he went into the kitchen for the first aid kit on the table that had never quite gotten put away.  

Frozen bandaids tumbled from the half open box and Harry scowled at them, tossing them in the trash before grabbing gauze and a compression bandage.  He turned to pull a bottle of Mac’s strongest from the icebox and his scowl deepened when he noted the frozen bandaids already neatly back in the first aid kit as he left the kitchen.  

Hilarious.  Damn faeries.  Turning back around for a moment he knocked them onto the ground in pure petty spite before leaving the kitchen.  

Thomas was leaning back on the couch again when Harry returned,  head dropped against the wall with one forearm resting over his eyes.  

“You awake?” Dresden called, settling next to him on the couch. Thomas murmured something mostly unintelligible. It became far more intelligible when Harry pressed the gauze hard to his wound, taking advantage of his jump of surprise to wrap the compression bandage around him to hold it in place.  He took a swig of the beer himself before handing the rest of the bottle to Thomas.  Better than Tylenol, Mac’s stuff.  Not better than much else, but definitely better than Tylenol. 

“Uhuh. You do realize that is not a reasonable battlecry, right? Nor is it a reasonable way to wake me up.”

Technically they could die from blood loss, but it would take a lot more than it would for a human. A few hours before, he had been in real danger, but he already healed from the very worst of his injuries. Lara made sure of it.

“It’s fine,” Thomas slurred. “You shoulda seen the other guy.” He managed a smile, but it was clearly forced. “Not going to be a problem. Just… don’t mention I’m here to Lara?”

“Damn.  Well, now what are Lara and I going to talk at our biweekly 4 AM planning committee?  Now I’m going to have to rework my entire presentation and have the couched cleaned in the next 27 minutes.”

Harry’s grin faltered as the blood continued to darken the cloth which had once been white, but had previously settled into a nice comfortable grey.  He really just ought to get red towels. 

He looked away, unwilling to look his brother in the eye. He just wanted to go back to sleep and not have to explain what happened, not to anyone, least of all Harry.

“It’s not like that. It’s… Dammit, Harry, are you really going to make me say it? I killed someone. Or probably did. It’s all a blur. I was in pretty bad shape when they got me back to the house. And Lara would have given me someone else, and someone else, until I was completely healed. And I can heal on my own from this, but I can’t trust myself feeding. I’d hurt the next girl too and…

He sat quietly for a moment, not even bothering to move the can before finally looking up.

“If she survived,” Harry asked quietly, would Lara have-” Thomas looked away and some spark of hope in Harry’s chest died.

“Uhuh. You do realize that is not a reasonable battlecry, right? Nor is it a reasonable way to wake me up.”

Technically they could die from blood loss, but it would take a lot more than it would for a human. A few hours before, he had been in real danger, but he already healed from the very worst of his injuries. Lara made sure of it.

“It’s fine,” Thomas slurred. “You shoulda seen the other guy.” He managed a smile, but it was clearly forced. “Not going to be a problem. Just… don’t mention I’m here to Lara?”

“Damn.  Well, now what are Lara and I going to talk at our biweekly 4 AM planning committee?  Now I’m going to have to rework my entire presentation and have the couched cleaned in the next 27 minutes.”

Harry’s grin faltered as the blood continued to darken the cloth which had once been white, but had previously settled into a nice comfortable grey.  He really just ought to get red towels. 

He went where?! With who?!

I am aware that early versions of Hades are not the literal devil that most modern depictions portray him as. But I still have a problem with you going to the afterlife, any afterlife.

Especially without me.

Originally posted by jonny-august

You know how it is,  one minute you’re thinking about whether the earring thing is still a thing; and the next you’ve got a gig in the underworld and three days before your head pops like a overinflated water balloon.  

Besides, I didn’t have much of a choice.  She backed me into a corner.

Oh, get this...  Ask me what his dog’s name means.  Come on- it’s great.