#bex and metzli
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TIMING: A few weeks ago
LOCATION: Some fancy penthouse
PARTIES: Siobhan ( @banisheed ) and Metzli ( @muertarte )
CONTENT: Unsanitary TW (for blood and boogers)
SUMMARY: Siobhan thinks the banshee she's looking for might be someone by the name of Regis Crotch. She enlists the help of Metzli to confront Regis at a party.
Siobhan was used to not being invited to parties; she had spent a long time cultivating a prickly attitude and a crude persona. She was proud of all she accomplished pretending to be an uncaring woman only interested in bones and having fun (a redundant statement). Yet, when Siobhan found out she was not invited to an exclusive party hosted by artsy types the likes of which she had never once interacted with or cared to, she was a little offended. At least in part because Regis Crotch was supposed to be in attendance and she really needed to see this Regis; her list of them was running thin and eventually she was sure to come up on the one she was looking for. As it turned out, hounding the host for an invite wasn’t the way to go about getting one. Thankfully, someone she knew had gotten one.
“Thanks again for doing this,” Siobhan smiled at Metzli. She adjusted her clothing, a tight but not revealing black dress and the deep red blazer she had draped over her shoulders. This party was hosted at one of those pretentious high-end lofts with the vaulted ceilings and the personal rooftop terraces and so, dressing well was expected. Though, even if it hadn’t been, Siobhan would have done so anyway. “Do you get invited to these things often?” She asked as they entered the building and she punched in the floor number on the elevator that just opened up. “Or--better question--do you come to these parties often? Any parties?” The door beeped and clunked shut; a rumbling and the telltale downward gravitation push of an elevator shooting up filled the enclosed space. The building was nice, but in the way renovated things often were; with enough old moldy corners and musty smells to make it still feel like there was some character left laying around.
—
Metzli didn’t like social occasions, going as far as to decline harshly in order to deter any future invites. Admittedly, the people who had invited them were impressively persistent. They’d never seen anyone take so much rejection and still have enough gumption to keep requesting. Metzli supposed it shouldn’t have come as a surprise. They had an up and coming gallery that, while still getting its legs, had drawn enough attention. Oddly enough, the fact that forgers disappeared left and right had given MuertArte a reputation that artists and their managers enjoyed.
Something about upholding impeccable standards by any means necessary. Needless to say, Metzli was a master of their craft, and it was paying off. Somewhat. The parties, they could do without. “Only ask that you help me when I am struggling with sound. Too many people. Hate it. Make me want to stab. Might stab if I do not keep calm.” They rambled, stressed their hand through their hair and adjusted their tie. “Invited a lot, but never go because I hate people—” The elevator shut and Metzli tensed. It was the kind of machinery they still hadn’t gotten used to. “And elevators. Hate elevators.” The confined space and whirring would’ve had them clawing at the doors if they hadn’t grounded themself by unconsciously reaching for Siobhan’s hand. They promptly let go and shook the tension away as best they could with an expression of embarrassment. “Sorry.”
—
Siobhan was used to stumbling through her life without caring about the people around her; she was a force of nature, dragging people along this way or that. The only people she had to stop to think about were the fae and, well, she didn’t really have to worry about them anymore. Not yet, at least. If Regis Crotch was her girl, then she could get back to the life she was meant to live. Instead, however, Metzli reached for her hand and Siobhan stared at it. Then at Metzli. She did consider that Metzli would hate the party but she didn’t consider what that meant, exactly. Or if Metzli would have preferred taking the stairs instead. Suddenly, her stomach sank and not in any way the elevator was responsible for. Guilt crawled up into her throat and squeezed. She had spent all her time cultivating her beloved prickly attitude that she forgot why she did it: Siobhan did care, immensely. When she was living with her family, it was easier to pretend she didn’t. All these years away from them had frayed her into something raw and ugly. She needed Regis. She needed to get back. She couldn’t keep living like this taut and vulnerable thing.
“I’m sorry,” she blurted. “I-I should have asked. If it helps….” Siobhan took her glove off, reaching her hand out and holding it palm up for Metzli to take if they wanted. “If you look at the numbers, it helps…or it did for me when I was a child. It’s a countdown; you know when the doors are going to open and you can get out. It’s not like being locked in some place. This has an end and it’s showing itself to you.” She smiled lightly and pointed up with her other hand. The elevator dinged again as they reached their floor and the doors slid open as promised.
Siobhan stepped out. There was a short hallway leading into the only apartment on the floor, the illustrious penthouse of pretentious art party fame. At the door, a muscular man in a finely tailored black suit stood watch and Siobhan bit down on her lip to keep from laughing. She supposed the exclusive aspect was rather serious and was at once happy that she’d asked Metzli to come rather than trying to get in herself. “If it gets too loud, there’s a rooftop terrace we can escape to. And if that’s too loud I can scream, that usually gets people to shut up.” She smiled softly. “Are you ready to go in? Or do you want another minute out here where it’s still quiet?”
—
Siobhan was right. Looking at the numbers did help. They were counting up, not counting down, but there was an end, as she said. Each beep brought them a floor closer to the exit, and despite hating parties, their destination couldn’t come fast enough. Metzli watched the number change and laced their fingers with Siobhan’s. The familiar coolness gave the vampire a semblance of relief, and the tension they were holding inside released in one large exhale. They were thankful Siobhan had a quiet kindness to her, that she extended her heart in her own way after everything she’d had taken from her.
In many ways, she reminded Metzli of themself, but that was what struck a chord most with them. Her life was carved away to make room for what others needed her to be. To serve until she could no longer give herself in any capacity. No room for anything else besides her higher power. It was a disheartening reality, a double edged sword. Each cut begging to spread over more skin, and Siobhan truly believed she wanted to be marked. Maybe she did, but something told Metzli there was lingering doubt, a truer version of herself that wanted to be free. But perhaps that was them simply growing lost in their thoughts and projecting.
“Hm?” Oh. The elevator doors had opened, and without realizing it, Metzli had been led outside. They were standing outside the entrance of the party and they were touched that Siobhan was once again taking them into consideration. Of course, she took the liberty of adding her own flair of humor. “Go in. Faster in, faster out.” Metzli led the two toward the security and stated their name to the unnecessary security guard. The two were inside in a blink, and the pretentious energy in the air alone tasted rancid and Metzli wanted to gag. They took to adjusting their suit jacket to give themself something to fuss with, an attempt to keep calm and focused on Siobhan’s task. “How do we look for your friend?”
—
The party was, as Siobhan assumed parties of these natures were, dripping with the air of self-importance. From the few conversations she could overhear, a competition of who-could-say-the-longest-word was waged in one and random French words occupied another. The art on display itself was…. Siobhan turned to Metzli. She wouldn’t call a Pollock ugly and she did know the historical significance of Malevich's Black Square but what she saw was no better than colorful squiggles and bright splotches. There didn’t appear to be rhyme or reason to them and the conversations around her consisted of people trying to ascertain the meaning lest they appear like the dumbest in the room. Siobhan wasn’t a fan. Say the work was shite and move on. “Is this art?” She asked her companion. If anyone would be the authority on artistic expression, she thought it would be Metzli.
Regarding their question though, Siobhan shrugged. “I thought we would just ask people,” she said. “Or yell.” She paused. “Or walk around aimlessly eating French cheese.” And at that, she grabbed cheese off a plate being offered to her and chewed it slowly. It had that funk fancy cheeses often did, the sort of thing that told her this was aged in complete darkness--which was not unlike how she thought these humans had grown up. Lacking patience however, Siobhan grabbed the nearest person and pulled them into the conversation. “Where’s Regis Crotch?” As soon as the person pointed at someone far off, Siobhan shoved them aside. “Easy. See?”
The person pointed out seemed to be the most darkness dwelling of the bunch; someone attired in a low-cut v-neck shirt and a thick red scarf. They adjusted their beret, swirling their wine very slowly. From the distance, Siobhan couldn’t tell if they were a woman--banshee or human. “Shall we go?”
—
At Siobhan’s questions, Metzli took a few glances around, all the pieces minimal and abstract. There was no depth, no actual forethought in any of the pieces on display. Maybe a few of the statues had some value, but that was only because Metzli couldn’t exactly place what they lacked. They were overfilled clusters of messes, not seeming to have any rhyme or reason. Metzli grumbled, about to answer when a pretentious-looking man tapped on their shoulder.
“Excuse me—are you Mx. Bernal from MuertArte?”
Looking the man up and down, a look of distaste began to take shape on Metzli’s face, breaking any stoicity. But only for a moment. “Yes,” They replied, someone brushing against them to move past. “Do not want to talk.” Another person bumped into them. “Please leave me alone.” Sounds became louder and light became brighter, raising Metzli’s anxiety significantly. Taking a steadying breath, they refocused on Siobhan, reaching for her hand and gripping it tightly. They should go. She’d found the man. It was the perfect excuse.
“Let’s go,” Metzli rushed the pair in the direction of this Regis Crotch, their mind set on the first objective. “What do we do once we get to them? I can…I have thrall. Can tell them to follow.” It wasn’t something Metzli particularly liked using, but if it was for a just cause, they could put those uneasy feelings aside.
—
Siobhan squeezed back on Metzli’s hand, assuring them of her presence and the comfort she hoped to occupy for them. She wasn’t completely heartless, despite what basic banshee education might imply. Her affection, far from vocal or obvious, began and ended with her tugging Metzli close to her, holding them, and shooting sharp glances at anyone else that recognized the artist. When they reached Regis Crotch, Siobhan’s mistake was obvious but something else broke the flush of embarrassment.
Regis Crotch was not a particular handsome man or an intelligent one or a kind one. What he lacked in favorable qualities he made up for in arrogance. To the podcasts he listened to, averageness was simply a state of mind. Regis Crotch fancied himself an artist— he had a few thousand Instagram followers of his exquisite A.I art. So, of course, he called himself one. Recently he typed a particularly delicious set of words into the A.I art prompt program that gave him a series of beautiful anime-styled women that were doing the rounds. Artists went to these sorts of parties and so, Regis had come despite his cold. Yes, he was sniffling up a storm in his little corner but it was his little corner and as a man of America, he was allowed to sniffle. When he went to wipe his nose, a thick spread of boogers sat on his fingers like jam. Sparing a quick glance around the party he figured there was no harm and no foul in making a tissue of the work of art he was looking at.
He would have screamed at the sudden presence of two bodies beside him if not for his attention stuck on how artsy his boogers blended with the globs of paint; he really was an artist. One was a pretty woman that he would certainly get to later with his practiced charms, the other was a surprising face. “Mx. Bernal from MuertArte?” He grinned wide, sticking out his one boogered hand for a shake.
Siobhan couldn’t say ‘this man disgusts me let’s push him off the roof’ with her mouth but she hoped the look she offered Metzli said it all. And yes, maybe they ought to thrall him.
—
Though their smile didn’t reach their eyes, still wide and stale from the need to hide in the void, Metzli felt content and at ease. Siobhan, while keeping people at arm’s length, still held them close and cared enough to ease their anxieties. “I appreciate this.” Metzli muttered, keeping their eyes downcasted to avoid making contact with anyone else’s. By the time the pair had reach Siobhan’s target, their eyes had risen to meet with Regis’, and their back stiffened with disgust.
“Yes, that is me and I already do not like you.” They continued, voice still dry, but quick in a way that showed their discomfort. Especially when they began to ramble. “Did you know your hands are covered with mocos? That is disgusting. I will not touch that hand but I am going to punch you now.” Letting go of Siobhan’s hand, Metzli’s hand, as promised, flashed too quickly to stop, crunching Regis’s nose with a powerful punch. Unfortunately for the vampire, making contact with his nose led to his boogers attaching to their knuckles and the sensation sent their nerves flaring with a sensation that felt wrong.
Regis groaned in pain, cupping his nose, which now began to coat his hands with both boogers and blood. This wouldn’t normally be a problem, but in a room full of people, red eyes and fangs weren’t exactly ideal. Metzli grabbed for Regis’s arm, staring into his eyes until they went blank with obedience. “Follow us without making scene.” They looked to Siobhan, waiting for her to take the lead.
—
Siobhan had no qualms with this. For the fact that Regis Crotch had the audacity to be the wrong Regis— be a man when she was looking for a rebellious banshee— was enough to warrant a murder. For his boogers he certainly should have got more. As Metzli sprung into action, taking out Regis’s nose in one swift motion, she giggled with delight. As he held his broken nose, overcome with boogers and blood and then put under Metzli’s spell, she had to restrain herself from skipping through the party. Siobhan knew she needed to be careful, they didn’t need any attention as they moved. She led them through the far end of the condo, past a poorly designed barrier and up a set of stairs to the empty rooftop terrace, where the sounds of the party died and left nothing but the night air and the occasional hum of a passing car.
“What do you want to do?” Siobhan grinned, skipping around Regis. “Throw him off the roof? Oh! But that might attract too much attention. If we kill him here, it might be some time before his body is found and I think I see a ladder coming down the side of the roof.” Whatever happened to Regis, it hadn’t been decided yet— Fate hadn’t given her a vision, Death didn’t want its cry. Regis existed in the thin space between life and death; he might still live if he could somehow break from Metzli’s thrall and run. More likely though, as soon as Metzli’s mind was made up on what fun they wanted to have, Siobhan would have a scream to swallow and a show to watch. The seconds before Death, where the promise of it loomed in the air, were always the most fun for Siobhan. “I leave the choice to you, Metzli.” She stopped skipping around, smiling at the vampire. “I think it can be great stress relief after that horrible, horrible party.”
—
Getting to the rooftop was a blur, the thick mixture of blood and mucus doing well to keep Metzli distracted from the snake of hunger constricting their throat. Bite…bite…bite…It became a chant in their head, as it always did when a meal was ripe and ready. They wanted to make him thrash, buck like prey. Did they have the time? The thought made Metzli blink, logic hard to come by in that hungry state. They were quick to latch onto it and look at Siobhan to keep themself grounded as they answered her question.
“I want to eat him.” Their voice was a robotic drone as usual, but less so with the losing battle of control. Metzli’s stomach tightened uncomfortably and they stood straighter, clenching their jaw enough to crack their teeth. Control was waning. Hell, it was practically gone. “I’m going to—” Metzli interrupted themself, fangs throbbing with pain and pulling them toward Regis’s throat to relieve the pressure. The release was instant, blood coating their tongue with its intoxicating umamic properties. And thanks to Metzli’s thrall, he made no call for help, no sniffle to save himself from the dripping mucus trailing down his chin.
At that point, Metzli hardly minded the mess that stained their suit, the blood much too potent to give themself pause. They consumed for several minutes, long after Regis went limp, until they finally threw him to the side. Blood coated their mouth and cheeks, the remnants dripping from their jaw. “That made that party worth it.”
—
Heat coiled up Siobhan's body, like a shot of whiskey gone in reverse. Her lungs expanded, pressing against her ribs. At the back of her throat, a bead encased with fire formed, stopping her from inhaling; begging her to exhale. A banshee scream wasn’t just some thing her body did, it was an impulse, a reflex, as natural as blinking and as inescapable as a yawn. Some humans thought they possessed great bodily control if they could hold back a sneeze, Siobhan thought they should try being stabbed and see how much control they possessed after that. In perfect form, without the flicker of expression across her face, her scream was swallowed as if nothing was felt inside her body at all. She didn’t want to disturb Metzli’s feeding and, anyway, she didn’t need the death vision; the show was just about to begin.
Regis Crotch died the same way he lived: limp. When it was done, Siobahn erupted in applause; heady from the sensation of death. She made no effort to glamour the dark veins that branched along her skin-- Metzli had just given her a wonderful performance, they deserved to see a banshee’s beauty in full. She flung her arms around the bloody Metzli, pulling them into a hug before she remembered that they probably wouldn’t like a hug. She let go sheepishly. “Apologies, that was just…so beautiful. Life literally drained from him; it was lovely!” To say Siobhan was ecstatic didn’t explain the almost uncharacteristic giggle that left her lips-- she was more than pleased; it didn’t even matter that Metzli was an abomination by every banshee standard. “You’re so attractive when you’re covered in blood. Come, if you’re good to walk, we should head down the ladder and enjoy a nice quiet stroll.”
—
The hug was unexpected, nearly disturbing enough to make the vampire flinch and bristle, like a feral kitten serving out a warning. But to their surprise, instead of a harsh reaction, Metzli wrapped their arm firmly around Siobhan. She didn’t need to pull away, not yet. They trusted the banshee, enjoyed her company and the way she made them feel positive about themself. It was give and take, by the looks of it, too. She had gotten a show and Metzli had gotten praise, not unlike the ovations Honey had given them. They were a beautiful monster in the eyes of their friends.
Metzli pulled away, their eyes still wild and untamed from all the stimulation. When they stood straight and looked down at Siobhan, they saw the way black veins weaved and framed her face, a beautiful web of death beneath her skin. With a hint of a smile curling the corner of their lips, Metzli let their awe take over their hand, landing it at Siobhan’s cheek so their thumb could graze her skin. She knew her beauty, Metzli knew that. How could they not? Siobhan had made that very clear as often as she could. Still, the words on their tongue slipped past their lips like a waterfall of saccharine.
“You are…” Their eyes were unblinking and awkwardly wide. “Beautiful.” Metzli’s thumb gave Siobhan’s flesh one last brush before they pulled away and looked toward the ladder they were just referred to. A walkdid sound nice, but a ladder was boring. There was a much better use of their newfound energy from feeding. “Better than good to walk. We jump.” A full smile reached Metzli’s lips, and they threw Siobhan over their shoulder as they burst into a sprint toward the edge of the building.
#i love metzli and I love jojo#regis crotch's fc is kaden in a bad scarf actually#its what i pictured in my head#c: metzli#writing#s1#blood and boogers#unsanitary tw#thank you 2 bex for supplying the scarf
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Metzli: Hello. My computer has the flu.
Bex: I'm sorry, I'm not sure I understand. could you tell me what it is that your computer is doing?
Metzli: There are popups and women want to meet me but I don’t want to meet them. Someone said maybe the computer has flu.
Bex: Oh, it sounds like you may have a virus. I see what you mean now. Can I send you to a website that will allow me to take control of the device?
Metzli: Will you tell them I don’t want to meet?
Bex: …yeah, sure
Metzli: Are you the computer’s new master now?
Bex: Only for a minute.
Metzli: I will count.
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Hyperfixations || Bex & Metzli
TIMING: Last Night
PARTIES: @inbextween @deathisanartmetzli
SUMMARY: Bex helps Metzli get a Spawn tooth, and as always, things go wrong.
WARNINGS: Blood, Parental Death Mention, Memory Loss
The night was cold, the breeze a small whisper in comparison to the chirping crickets. With each step Metzli took towards a tree, there was only a soft and subtle crunch. The fog made everything have more give, pliable. But the fog wasn’t the only thing in the air. There was blood too. It came from multiple directions, six to be exact. They had made trails of it with a few blood bags to draw a spawn’s attention, but they had had no luck the past few nights, and they really hated wasting blood. Nothing mattered more than their soul, though. They’d spend as many blood bags as needed if it meant they got the spawn’s teeth, if it meant they got their soul back.
“Goddammit.” Metzli muttered harshly under their breath and gripped the branch of the tree they sat in. It felt so hopeless, and they were so tired of being hopeless. All they wanted was their soul so that they could be a proper person, and not this monster Eloy and their parents had created. Tears began to fall down their face, darkening the spots on their hoodie where they fell. They weren’t going to stop trying, but god, they wanted to when things got like this. Like there was no hope. Before their thoughts could continue about the first step not even being completed, they perked up at the sound of steps.
Excited, they leapt down without thinking to surprise the spawn. Something didn’t feel right, though. The steps were calm, calculated. Exactly the opposite of how a spawn would behave. They landed with a soft thud and hissed instinctively at whatever was in front of them.
Technically this was Bex’s second tracking spell, but with how badly the first one had gone over, she was willing to pretend it wasn’t a thing and say this was her first. She was excited to try it, too. And lucky, that she still had Metzli’s hoodie from when they’d let her wear one after her clothes got ruined by the Bies. She had everything set up eagerly on her desk, Ru looking on eagerly from her shoulder. She blew the dust onto the hoodie, chanted the words, and waited for a moment. It seemed like nothing was happening at first and Bex could already feel the disappointment building, when suddenly an orb of light shot up from the hoodie and dust and started traveling out the door. Hurriedly, Bex grabbed her jacket and Ru and followed after it, simply excited it had worked at all.
There wasn’t much time for celebration, the little light was zooming away. It led her down a path and towards the treeline, dissipating as she got closer, which meant Metzli was around here somewhere. She slowed to a walk, reaching up to pat Ru on the head and hold her in her arms instead of on her shoulder. “Where do you think they are, huh?” she asked.
But she was answered pretty quickly, as something landed with a heavy thud in front of her and Bex yelped, leaping backwards as they hissed. Ru hissed back in turn, claws coming out, and Bex stumbled on a branch, falling backwards to the ground. When she blinked, looking up, though, all she saw was Metzli. “Geez, Metzli!” she said in exasperation. “You almost gave me a heart attack.” She paused. “N-not actually! I guess I can’t use that saying anymore, can I?”
When Bex yelped and subsequently stumbled back, Metzli grimaced at the scene knowing they had greatly miscalculated. “What the fuck are you doing here?!” Frustration washed over them the second their friend spoke. Of course she had found them. What else could they possibly expect from a woman who knew danger like that pesky cousin you can never get rid of at gatherings? “No, you can’t say that! You—oh fuck,” they could see the familiar preparing for an attack, rightfully so. Her duty was to Bex, to protect her by any means necessary. Even biting or scratching away at a friend. “Ru, it’s okay. I’m not gonna hurt her, don’t worry. I just thought she was something else.” A scowl was shot at her and they rolled their eyes before reaching out cautiously and helping Bex back on her feet.
A little calmer now and with their hair not standing on end, Metzli looked softly at Bex and huffed. They couldn’t be too upset with her, not when she was trying to be a good friend. It just really sucked that being a good friend sometimes meant putting oneself in danger in their world. “How in the shit did you find me anyway?” Their voice was no longer grating, but full of genuine curiosity. White Crest had a few cemeteries and they knew better than to think of all people, that Bex took a wild guess. While she was street dumb, she was pretty book smart.
“Wow, okay, you don’t have to yell,” Bex grumbled, and she could’ve calmed Ru right away, but she let her hiss just a little bit longer before patting the ferret’s head to calm her down. “It’s fine, Ru, it’s just our big, stinky vampire friend being weird.” The yokai chittered and retracted her claws, retreating to her spot back on Bex’s shoulder as Metzli helped Bex stand back up, and she leaned over to brush off her pants, before looking back over at Metzli. “Why were you up in a tree, anyway? Are you employing guerilla warfare tactics on spawn now?”
At the questions, Bex actually perked up excitedly. “I did a tracking spell! I still have that hoodie you let me borrow, back when I showed up after the whole bies incident. That’s all you need for a tracking spell. I was surprised it worked, but I like to think I’m getting better,” she grinned. “But, oh!” She fumbled around for a moment. “Don’t worry, I came prepared!” And she pulled out a stake from her back pocket. “Morgan got me one after the Eloy incident. Supposedly it’s made of unbreakable wood.”
“I’m not stinky,” Metzli bit back and flipped Bex off. “Why wouldn’t I yell, idiot? I’m waiting for a spawn and I almost attacked you. Don’t you know that you shouldn’t sneak up on me by now?” They sighed and rubbed their face in frustration. Seeing Bex was always great, she was their best friend, but now they had to be extra cautious. If they had stayed alone, it would’ve been much easier. Spawns were erratic and dangerous in a way that was extremely deadly for someone with blood pumping in their veins. Especially for someone with not only a heart condition, but an innate proclivity for bleeding. A lot. “I was watching from a vantage point,” they finally answered, petting Ru passively and looking at their friend.
With their frustrations fleeting, a smile was able to curve the corner of their mouth at how proud Bex was with herself. Metzli knew how frustrated she could get with her magic, and it was honestly nice to see her win one even if it was at their expense. “That’s actually impressive. Nice work…dummy.” Lightly, they pushed her shoulder and chuckled with a roll of their eyes when she displayed her stake to them. “Watch it! Those things are deadly.” They mocked offense, as if she was threatening them with it. “Since you’re here, you’ll need this too.” Taking a bottle from their pocket, they handed it over to Bex. There was another in their other pocket, so they had no issue giving one away. They wanted to keep their friend safe since they knew there was no convincing her to leave. “Holy water. Just don’t get it on me. That shit burns.”
“You are stinky, actually,” Bex said, folding her arms across her chest. “And I thought it was like, impossible to sneak up on you. Can’t you like, hear me or smell me?” She didn’t really know how it worked, but she hadn’t expected Metzli to be in a tree, either. “A vantage point? Why would you need one of those? I figured you’re strong enough to just take a spawn straight up, right? Nell can, I’ve seen it before. And so could Morgan. She actually took down a reanimated corpse once. It was trying to eat me. We were actually dress shopping for the first time, because I needed a sundress for over my bathing suit, because I was–” she paused, a headache coming on suddenly, as she tried to recall why, exactly, she’d needed a bathing suit. It was for something important.
Bex grabbed at her head and rubbed her palm into her eye as the headache splintered from her temple to her jaw, before it faded slowly. Ru gave a concerned squeak but Bex shook it off. “Sorry, just a headache. Been getting a few of those lately. And I’m not a dummy, you’re the dummy, dummy.” She took the holy water Metzli handed her and shook the vial a little. “Well, here’s to hoping I don’t actually have to use either of these. I’ve been practicing my barrier spells, and with Ru, they’re more stable and strong.”
“Ever heard of hyperfixating? Normally I’d be able to tell, but I guess I’ve just been really focused and jumped on any sound I heard.” Metzli shrugged and put their hands on their hips at how Bex kept poking at their plan. “Look, surprise attacks are good for a quick takedown. I was using the blood as a lure so I could sweep down, rip off their head, and then rip out the tooth. Do you have to—” Bex was grimacing in pain and they searched around for the source. But it was internal, and all they could do was kneel down and place a concerned hand on her shoulder. “You good?” Ru moved to her other shoulder, where their hand was, and they smiled at how her familiar truly cared. Both of them called down as soon as she stood up, stable and full of attitude.
Metzli rolled their eyes and shoved Bex playfully, “Well it’s a good thing Ru is here then. I think she’s stronger than both of us combined.” They chuckled at their joke, finding it funnier than they should have. With how wrong everything was going, it was nice to find some normalcy. It was just a small shard, but it was enough to fill the hole of worry in the chest with hope. “And I trust you, don’t worry. I know you’ve been working hard.” They smiled softly at Bex and gestured for her to follow. There was erratic movement sounding off just a few yards ahead from where they stood. “I think I hear something. Smells dead.”
“Yes, I have, thank you very much. My therapist says people with ADHD hyperfocus on things, which makes a lot of sense for me. I hyperfocus a lot. She gave me a bunch of exercises to help with it, though, if you wanna try them,” Bex rambled, nodding to herself and looking to Metzli for something along the lines of approval. She wasn’t sure when she’d started feeling it, but she found she looked to them as some sort of older sibling. They were messy and they had a lot to work on, but they tried their best to be good to Bex and she knew they’d do whatever they could for her. And that felt like family. Like Milo.
“Oh, I have no doubt she’s stronger than both of us combined. Have you seen her claws?” She beamed again, proud of her little familiar. Ru chittered triumphantly as she crawled back into the hood of Bex’s jacket and curled up. She was about to answer again when Metzli paused, pointing out that there was a noise up ahead. Of course Bex couldn’t hear it, but she trusted Metzli’s instincts, stepping behind them and squinting into the darkness. “Is it a spawn?”
“Yeah, yeah, of course you have. Even without the therapist, I’m sure you’d be able to tell me all about it.” An amused grin revealed their sharp fangs, and it reached their eyes. Though Bex had inserted herself into a dangerous situation much to their chagrin, it was nice to see her. It always was. The two could rely on each other in a way that they never had before, and neither of them would let the other trek alone if they could help it. “Sure, I’ll try them. Not sure if I have ADHD, but it has been really hard to focus lately. Maybe it’ll still help with my bullshit.” Metzli shifted their weight from one foot to the other, looking at the ground, and then at a chittering Ru, wanting to veer the spotlight back to Bex. “I guess therapy is going well?” They moved toward the sudden sound and the smell of death, being mindful to whisper. The air bit into their nose and hands, but it wasn’t like they actually minded the cold, it barely affected them. Sometimes it was just nice to feel a little human.
“Not sure if it’s a spawn or not. The movement stopped. I smell blood and a heartbeat is fading. It’s small. Maybe it just killed something.” The air was completely still and filled with the scent of blood. A discomforting tightness tugged at Metzli’s throat, forcing them to clear it. Control was still easy, but the discomfort would never go away. “Stay here.” Something was eating and it was covered in death. Before Bex could respond, they bounded forward, tackling an animal that yelped. A coyote. They groaned in defeat and let it run off in fear as they stayed sitting on the ground, watching it with a pout. “False alarm…again. Fuck. I’m off my game.”
“Well, I mean, maybe not all about it. But quite a bit, yeah. I’ve been reading a book on psychology, finally. It was kind of a topic I ignored before, cause, well– you know. Hashtag trauma.” Bex smiled back at Metzli, wide and proud, and she couldn’t help but feel like things had been going really well lately. Sometimes, when she thought about it too hard, she got another headache, but maybe that was just life telling her to not think so hard about finally being given something good. Something nice. Life was finally looking up. Or something like that. “Ooh, okay! So, exercise number one– mindfulness. It’s, like, asking yourself questions about how you’re feeling in the present moment to keep yourself aware.” She followed along after Metzli even though they said to stay, peeking over their shoulder as they watched the bushes rustle and move about. Ru wasn’t chittering or hissing, though, so Bex wasn’t too worried. She trusted Metzli, but she sort of trusted Ru’s senses more. She hadn’t led her wrong yet.
As Metzli flopped to the ground, pouting, Bex came up next to them and sat down as well. “Exercise number two,” she continued, picking up Ru from her hood and setting her on the ground between them. The little yokai stretched before she began rolling around in the leaves and dirt happily. “Identify the things you tend to hyperfocus on and make a list of them. Never start a hyperfocus near bedtime and if you know you need to do said activity, set timers. Getting up and moving also helps keep the mind from hyperfocusing too hard.” She glanced around them, at the relatively peaceful feeling forest, before she looked back to Metzli. But when she noticed that Ru had paused and had her haunches raised, Bex immediately leapt up. “Something’s coming.”
Metzli was so enraptured with the possibility of a spawn, that it was only when Bex continued her mini lesson that they looked at her with a bemused expression. Everything she had said finally registered, and they narrowed their eyes at her. “First of all, hashtag? Really? Second, I don’t go to bed. And third, what do you call this? I’m up and moving. Have been all night.” With a grumble, they pulled their knees to their chest and let their head fall. They knew, deep down, Bex was just trying to help and her information was in fact true. It just felt like defeat if they admitted it was their fault for not being able to do a simple thing for themselves. But the true defeat was getting lost in their own bullshit, so they sighed and looked at Bex with a weak smile that quickly fell to a somber one. “I guess…I am hyperfocusing on all things soul related. It’s making me weak. I mean, I got my ass beat by a slayer the other day, and he left me in the snow. I can usually kill those fuckers no problem. Or at least…” They smiled awkwardly at Bex, “Now I take them out of commission for a bit.”
Ru was rustling about, even brushing a bit on Metzli’s leg as she did. A smile tugged as they watched her relax into the dirt, only to have it abruptly end as she went into high alert. Bex was up at the same time as them, facing the direction of overwhelming death. “Yeah, something is coming.” They swallowed thickly, closing their eyes and letting their senses take over properly this time. “Get your magic ready. We’ll use your barrier and after it steps back from its attack, you let it down and I strike. Got that, dummy?” Eyes looked hopeful now, amused even, as they looked at Bex for confirmation. As much as she might seem to struggle with her magic, she was getting better, and they trusted her completely.
Bex rolled her eyes. “Yes, hashtag. I’m gen z, what do you expect? I unironically ironically say things like hashtag and mood.” She stuck her tongue out at them, crossing her arms over her chest. “I don’t think it’s making you weak, I think it’s making you lose focus. Like, you’re concentrating so hard you’re losing your concentration. You know?”
Bex stayed behind Metzli as they stood up, and she gazed around to try and place where the creature was. She couldn’t see, though, and she couldn’t hear much either. What she would’ve given to have any sort of super something. She’d even exchange magic for it, really. But Now wasn’t the time to think about that. She nodded quickly and called Ru over, letting her climb back up her arm to her shoulder. She let her magic flow into her hands, concentrating and trying not to think about the fact that a rabid, starving spawn was just up ahead. She needed to stay calm. With Ru’s energy next to her, the lilac magic flowed easily from her hands and formed a barrier in front of them. “Just say when,” she said back to them, “dummy.”
It felt natural to taunt each other, call each other names like juveniles. Metzli couldn’t help the grin that formed as they walked towards danger and managed to continue to joke. Having Bex next to them made them feel confident and strong, and like they were never alone. Family had a way of doing that to a person, they supposed. “Damn, Bex. This is solid as hell.” They looked all over the barrier, thoroughly impressed with her progress. “I’m…proud of you. Just so you know.” And it was true. Bex had obviously been practicing and trying hard, the evidence manifesting in front of them powerfully.
Attention was snapped from the barrier, something like heavy footfalls onto wet earth and snow. Metzli walked in a crouch, growling deep in their chest as they watched, at fucking last, a spawn broke through the trees, screeching and smashing its whole body against the lilac barrier. They didn’t flinch, they didn’t move, watching carefully for an opening. Frustrated at the wall between it and its meal, the spawn screeched and took a few steps back to ready itself for a pounce. “Now!” They commanded, bounding forward the second the barrier was lowered.
Metzli tackled the creature, the two fighting for dominance in a fight that would only end in death. Legs wrapped around the spawns neck, making it flail about, trying to get Metzli off of it. Leaning back, they caused the two to fall to the ground where they pried the mouth open and reached in to rip out a tooth. Their hold was firm and unbreakable, pulling and pulling as the spawn screeched in pain. A few teeth broke free, and Metzli smiled in victory. That was, until the ugly thing got a firm grip and flung them off. Their back hit the tree with a gut-wrenching crack and it went for Bex right after.
Bex only had a moment to let that warm, flooding feeling inside of her linger at the words, before the sound of heavy footfalls alerted her to the fact that they were, in fact, hunting a monster. She kept her concentration up as much as she could, letting the comfort of Ru on her shoulder keep her steady. She waited for Metzli’s go ahead, watching the spawn run straight for them, colliding with her barrier. It held tight but Bex winced, flinching back a little, the sound of it still in her ears. Ru’s hackles raised and she hissed angrily, claws already coming out, but she stayed on Bex’s shoulder, knowing her witch could keep hold, even as her arms shook a little.
Metzli gave the command, and Bex let the barrier drop. Ru gave a screech as well, preparing to launch herself, but Metzli tackled the creature and was wrestling with it on the ground. Bex took a few steps back, hands up, ready to use magic if need be. But Metzli seemed to be doing a fine job, even managing to snag a tooth, and Bex relaxed a moment.
That was the mistake. In the next second, Metzli was being thrown against a tree, slumping down it in a heap. “Metzli!” Bex cried out, turning to run in their direction, but Ru had other plans– she’d noticed the spawn’s attention turning to Bex, and leapt from the witch’s shoulder to meet it halfway between them. “Ru!” Bex stumbled in her spot, watching as the small yokai tore and ripped at the undead fiend with scythe-like claws, her screeches echoing in the woods. But the spawn was bigger, and with its bloodlust came a strength that far outmatched a magic weasel’s. It swiped a claw across its face where Ru was digging claws into its eyes and she went flying off, into a bush. Bex cried out for her, torn between going to the half conscious vampire, or the sounds of her familiar’s pained cries.
She didn’t get time to decide. The spawn was on top of her in seconds. Bex pressed fingers into its eyes, feeling sluggish blood run down her hands, but it didn’t care. Teeth tore at her arms until she was forced to let go, claws digging into her stomach, holding her down. She cried out and tried to concentrate enough to pull magic back to her hands, but the blood coating them made her mind pause, only for a moment, as she flashed back to her home, to her mother’s head between her hands, to the blood that had poured from ears and forever stained Bex’s hands.
In the next moment, teeth ripped into Bex’s neck and tore at the skin and her scream filled the echoless night.
Metzli struggled to get up, feeling like something in their back was extremely out of place. They watched in horror as Ru was thrown into the bushes and crying out in pain. Legs refused to move and they began to army crawl towards Bex as she struggled. “Bex!” It was a weak cry, a plea for their body to cooperate and get to their friend. Continuing to crawl, they had only made it a few feet when the spawn bit down, forcing a gut wrenching scream to pierce the air. “Fuck! Fuck!” Bex’s blood permeated in the air, forcing out a growl from the vampire and motivating them further.
Control was waning, and Metzli wanted the blood almost as much as the spawn. But they loved her, they really, really loved her. With their mind and their relentless resolve, they could manage. They had to. “Get off of her!” Ignoring all pain, they launched themselves towards the two, gripping the spawn’s jowls and forcing them open. Their spine was screaming, but the adrenaline and energy from their bloodlust kept them from faltering. They pulled the jaws apart, ripping the head completely in two.
“Bex…I’ve got you. I’ve got you.” Metzli attempted to soothe, pressing their shaking palm to her neck. “Please be okay. Please.” A shooting pain raptured their spine, making their last word come out in a small shriek. The pain was overwhelming and their throat was so constricted that words were too difficult to say properly.
Bex screamed and kicked and writhed but she couldn’t do anything. Her magic pried at the air, but an undead being with no thoughts except primal instincts weren’t affected by magic that tried to pull at their minds. The pain was splintering up her neck and down her chest and she was crying, kicking, slapping at the spawn, trying to get it to let go. She called out for help, for Ru, for Metzli, for Morgan. For Mina. She didn’t know why she cried out for Mina. She wasn’t really paying attention to who she was screaming for. She just needed someone. She needed someone to save her.
The vice grip on her neck loosened and then disappeared, but the pain did not. Hot blood poured from the mouth sized tear in her neck, even as a cold hand pressed to the wound. She sputtered and tasted iron in the back of her throat and blinked through the dizzying stars that were forming in her eyes. She could see how much pain Metzli was in, she knew what they had to do. Bex took in enough of a breath, turning her head enough to look Metzli in the eyes. “Y-You have to,” she choked, “take some b-blood. P-please.” She needed to find Ru. She needed to get out of here. She wished she hadn’t come. Why did she keep doing these things? Putting herself in danger? Why did she feel like she had to? Like she owed it to them? This always happened. This always happened. She wished she was different. She wished she could change. “I won’t m-make it if you can’t get us out of h-here.”
Their head shook vehemently, not daring to entertain the idea. “No,” Metzli croaked, fighting every urge to bite into Bex. Her blood smelled so appetizing, so mouthwateringly good. “I’ve got you. You’ll b-be okay. I-I promise. Keep your hand here. I’m g-getting R…Ru.” They moved her hand to her neck, helping her press down. Feeling was fleeing from their legs again, but they forced their legs to move, heading to the small yokai. She was still chittering sadly, and whining as she nudged her way to them. They knelt down and scooped her up carefully, screaming as they stood upright again. Their mind begged them to stop moving, but their love for Bex propelled them forward.
Ru crawled onto her chest and tried her best to pat and lick away at what wounds she could. “I’m going to pick you up, and we’re going to the hospital, okay?” Metzli screamed as they lifted Bex from the ground, feeling another crack down their spine. The sharp pain shot into their throat, forcing a snap of their teeth. Her blood was intoxicating and their hunger ate away at their dwindling resolution. Looking at their friend, they could see how much pain she was in, and that aided them in not biting her. “Keep talking to me. Don’t pass out. Not yet.”
Bex felt her own hot, blood under her palm as Metzli moved it to press down on the wound. She whined as pain splintered from it again, but she kept her hand in place, trying her best to quell the bleeding. Why did she bleed so much? She hated this. She just wanted to be helpful, to be useful, to not be the damsel always in distress. She winced at the sound of Metzli in pain. “Please,” she begged quietly, even as they came back over. Ru crawled onto her chest and curled up near the wound, trying to use her fur to stop the bleeding as well. “Please, just…I kn-know you need it. You’re in p-pain.” She didn’t know what else to do. She cried out, too, when Metzli picked her up.
She curled into their chest, squeezing her neck. “I’m a-already bleeding, you don’t even have to b-bite me, please. I can h-help. Please.”
“No,” Metzli answered firmly, leaving no room to argue. “I’m not doing that. I’m not risking it. You’re too important.” They continued to trek towards the hospital, relying on their sense of smell to guide them. It helped, if only a little, to distract them from the smell of Bex’s blood. “You helped a lot, cariñita. You did. I got the tooth. Just focus on you, okay?” For someone without the ability to empathize, they appeared to portray it really well. It was all selfish, though. In the end, they just needed their best friend to be okay. They didn’t want to lose any member of their family. For just an inkling of a moment, the promise they made so many months ago to turn Bex, should she be on the brink of death, came to mind.
Metzli’s steps sped up, fighting against the pulses of white hot pain that threatened to stop them from continuing. They stumbled, fell to their knees, but they didn’t stop. Time was too important. “We’re almost there. I see it.” Pulling her closer as she curled up, they saw the lights, relaxing their shoulders as their worry subsided. They screamed, demanding for help as they leaned against a pillar. Eyes were squeezed shut, both to hide them and in reaction to their struggle. “Please save her. Please.”
It was strange, Bex thought, to have people like this. How long had she felt so alone in life? Twenty years, actually. For twenty years she’d grown up alone and isolated and in pain. And then she’d found people, and they’d pulled her up and out of the hell she’d been living in. And even today, they were still doing it. She was nothing more than a burden on all of them. She doubted she’d ever be any good to them, if this was how these things always ended up. She remembered she’d been here recently, but she couldn’t remember why. Something was wrong with her head. Every time she thought about it, her head hurt too much. Bex felt her eyes lulling closed, Metzli’s voice echoing in her ears. She was trying to focus, but she couldn’t. Her head lolled onto their shoulder, eyes closing.
When she opened her eyes again, it wasn’t Metzli carrying her anymore. It was someone else, with deep brown eyes, and long, blonde hair. She looked worried. Sunlight haloed her head, obscuring her face. Bex thought she could hear her talking. She couldn’t stay awake. Her eyes closed again.
Metzli bolted into the hospital right after Bex, compelling whatever doctors or nurses they needed along the way to get blood. Collecting a few blood bags, they hid away in a bathroom for a few minutes to eat and heal as much as they could. Their mind reeled, thinkinking of only Bex as they waited for their legs to properly heal and comply without agony.
As soon as they could, they went straight to Bex’s room and found her resting peacefully. She was patched up and stabilized, much to their relief. Metzli trudged over, struggling to contain their worry and residual ache as they sat next to her and took her hand. Ru rested by her side, breathing slowly as she slept with her witch. They weren’t going to let her be alone. Morgan would arrive, and they’d leave, but Bex didn’t have to be alone. “I’m never leaving you.” A soft mutter. “I promise.”
#wickedswriting#bex and metzli#blood on paper#blood tw#parental death mention#hyperfixations#memory loss tw
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[Handwriting is shaky, but it can still be read. The note reads: ]
“Decided to look up how to deal with overwhelming circumstances. Apparently thinking about what or who makes you happy is a good place to start. And that you should write about them or illustrate them. I chose the latter.” -M
#submit#metzli#//it wouldn't let me edit??#kept saying error with the post#but imagine bex put it somewhere in the open#then got a little nervous#and put it on her desk instead
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Affettuoso || Milo & Mina
TIMING: Current
PARTIES: @drowningisinevitable and @wickedmilo
SUMMARY: Milo and Mina meet to play piano and check on each other. They both end up helping each other in various ways
CONTENT: Addiction, drug use (fae blood)
Milo was struggling. And knowing he had no real reason for struggling was only making him feel worse. Metzli wasn’t dead. The hardest thing he had ever been forced to process had been taken back by the universe. But having a complicated grieving process interrupted in such a monumental way had left him with something akin to emotional whiplash. Not only that, he was still searching for a more permanent source of blood, and he knew more than one of his friends was having a difficult time. Metzli’s death wasn’t the only issue Bex, and Mina were having to face. He didn’t know the details of their situation, he only got to see the aftermath. The way they were trying to navigate their differences, and move beyond what had taken place between them. Sharing such a close friendship with the Fae, and the Spellcaster meant he was doing what he could to maintain a steady stream of contact with the both of them. Allowing them to exist outside of their relationship, to spend time with him that may offer them a brief break from their troubles. It was why he had messaged Mina upon hearing she was back in town. Why he had suggested meeting up with her whenever she was ready to see him. It hadn’t taken long for her to suggest a piano session, and far too much time had passed since he last had access to the White Crest University piano room.
Having said yes in a metaphorical heartbeat, he was wandering the halls of the building, hurrying to reach the room he knew she would be waiting in. The light outside was a dull, dusty blue. Night was approaching fast but this time of day was as close to sunlight as he could possibly get without requiring the use of UV filtered glass. He did what he could to enjoy it. Eventually arriving, coming to a halt in front of the familiar door, he didn’t knock before opening it. Even if Mina was on the other side, this had become their shared space. There was no such thing as an intrusion.
The trek from the cabin that Mina was staying at to the car that she called and then to the school wasn’t exactly an enjoyable experience, but she was doing much better than she had been. Her bones were healing, though they ached, and she could manage with a single crutch since her left side was still okay. She’d managed to hobble her way into the music room and sat down on the bench, left hand rubbing at the wrapping around her right wrist. Her sleeve moved up her arm, exposing a patch of the scales that had refused to move themselves from her body, no matter how hard she tried. She tugged it back down, sighing. She couldn’t tell if she was doing better having seen Bex or not, but she wanted to try and be better. Mina didn’t know how to be better. Maybe seeing Milo would be a step towards being better.
When he walked in, Mina smiled up at him, hoping she didn’t appear too tired and that it didn’t seem too fake. She was trying. Look at her, how she went out in public, how she attempted to do something normal with a friend, how she tried to forget that she was a bad. Wasn’t she doing well? “Hi,” she said, quietly. “I’m… not quite as healed as I’d like to be, unfortunately.” She lifted up her bound wrist, her fingers flexing but painfully so. “So I’m afraid you might be playing by yourself tonight. Is that alright?”
Milo faltered when he first laid eyes on Mina, taken aback by her appearance. But he hurried to compose himself, not wanting to make her feel self conscious. Letting the door close softly behind him, he offered her a quiet smile. It was impossible not to notice the bandages, even without her drawing attention to them. And the crutch leaning against the wall beside her was equally as obvious. But he held his tongue instead of asking questions, knowing she would elaborate when, and more importantly, if she ever decided she wanted to. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realise you were in pain. I wouldn’t have…” He trailed off, wondering whether his words were technically true. Sometimes, regardless of pain, company and a change of scenery could make a person feel better. He wasn’t beyond attempting to encourage a brief escape from reality, and that was exactly what their music sessions had become. An escape. Some might even say a healthy escape. “Are you okay?” He asked finally. “Or getting there, at least?” Nodding to let her know he understood she couldn’t play, he moved to take a seat on the bench beside her, tugging his sleeves up so that his hands were no longer hidden by them. “It’s alright, so long as you think you can stand to listen to me play.”
He kept his head lowered as he spoke, running his fingers absentmindedly along the keys. It wasn’t lost on him that he probably looked equally as tired, albeit in a slightly different way. He hadn’t been sleeping, had been spending far more time with a bottle in his hand than he would care to admit. And existing on animal blood wasn’t easy. He had done it before, but having since developed an appreciation for human blood, it couldn’t compare. Thin, and less flavourful, it left him feeling empty. Craving something more substantial, which was always undeniably dangerous. Settling fully on the bench, a soft sigh escaping him as he realised how good it felt to be back, he tilted his head to look up at Mina, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “I don’t suppose you have any requests?” He asked, his eyes shining despite his melancholic expression. He was here to forget his life, and its complications. They weren’t important right now. “I don’t know if Bex has told you, but things aren’t exactly going well for me either… if we’re not careful I’m going to play something sad and depress us both.”
“It’s okay, I probably– probably should’ve mentioned that I’m not doing the best, ah, physically, along with everything else,” Mina said quietly, turning her eyes downward for a moment before she looked back up at him. She shrugged. “I broke my wrist and my leg, along with a couple of ribs, but everything’s healing.” And she knew that probably wasn’t really what he meant by doing okay. The truth was that she was doing rather terrible, and she imagined that she’d keep doing terrible for quite some time. It didn’t matter, though. It really didn’t matter. She managed to smile up at him. “I’ll manage. And I’ll be all healed up in a few weeks, I’m sure.” And she smiled a little easier as he sat beside her, and she turned with him to face the keys.
It was hard for Mina to be in front of a piano and not play. She genuinely liked play, so much, and her fingers felt like they were itching. She lifted her left hand and played a few short notes, sighing quietly. She looked at him, really looked at him. It was strange for Mina to see a vampire and think that they looked tired, despite the fact that they couldn’t sleep. But Milo looked tired. He looked tired and worn down. “I’m afraid I’m in no better of a mood than you are,” she murmured. But she frowned, adding. “What do you mean? I’m so very sorry for– for not keeping up with you the way I should have. I’ve been a bit of a bad friend, haven’t I?”
“Yeah, Bex mentioned… I guess I just- I wasn’t sure how long it takes you to heal.” Milo felt bad for not considering the severity of Mina’s injuries, but his guilt wasn’t strong enough to erase how content he was to be in her company. Or how convinced he was that getting out would be good for her. He noticed the way she carefully misunderstood his question, choosing to comment on her physical wellbeing rather than her mental health. But he couldn’t blame her, and he didn’t want to push her to talk. So he listened quietly, eventually offering her a smile. “That has to be the one good thing about being a weirdo, right?” He teased, although he couldn’t force the lighthearted tone he was aiming for. “At least we’re resilient.” Pleased to hear she would no longer be in pain after a few weeks had passed, he wondered whether anything else would be different by then. Whether her relationship with Bex would heal alongside her bones, and whatever happened between them would be left in the past. His smile growing as her expression softened, he couldn’t resist reaching out, letting his fingers lightly brush against hers before pulling away again. The piano room, and her presence were both such comforts to him. He longed to bring her some comfort too.
Listening attentively to the notes she played, letting them echo in his ears long after the room had fallen silent, he didn’t realise she was observing him until she spoke again. When he caught her gaze he could see the concern in her expression. “Then we can be miserable together.” He said, nodding his head definitively. As much as he hated the fact that the people he cared about were struggling, it undeniably made him feel less alone. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” He hurried to insist. Mina hadn’t messaged him, but he also hadn’t messaged Mina. “We’ve both been through… a lot. What matters is we’re here now, y’know? We’re here for each other now.” Turning back to the keys, he began to play, absentmindedly improvising a song. It was slow, and gentle, but not necessarily unhappy. Just something to keep his hands busy as he thought about how best to explain his situation.
“After losing Metzli, I didn’t know what to do. I felt like I was just beginning to process their death when- when they came back. And I’m so relieved, Mina. You have no idea, but it feels like my mind is still catching up.” He chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, briefly interrupting the song to push his glasses further up his nose. The moment he began speaking, it felt as though he couldn’t stop. Words were tumbling from his mouth, and it simultaneously felt as though a weight was being lifted from his chest. “Vampires don’t sleep, it feels like- like a state of unconsciousness, I guess. But it’s still a break, and I keep convincing myself that if I do that, if I let myself sleep, I might wake up and realise they really are gone.” As he continued, the song he was playing became louder, and faster. Far more complex. His emotions were pouring into it without his permission. “Like, what if they never came back and it was all in my head? What then? And there’s Murphy… she’s on some self righteous mission to teach me a lesson, and she cut me off from my blood source. My ethical nobody-gets-hurt blood source. Bex has been giving me animal blood but it doesn’t feel like enough, I’m just- I’m always hungry, I’m always tired. I know so many of my friends have it worse, but I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to make anybody feel better- myself included. Everything is… it’s really fucking hard.”
“Have you seen her?” Mina asked, trying not to sound too hopeful, too desperate for solid proof that Bex was physically okay. Mina just wanted her to be okay. She was just desperate for Bex to be okay, and it wasn’t like she could see her right now. She didn’t feel right seeing her right now. “I… I heal twice as fast as a human, as long as I get enough water, so that’s nice.” She didn’t agree with him that it was a perk of being a weirdo. There weren’t any perks to not being human. She wondered if that was something that he’d agree with if she voiced it. She didn’t, though. “At least we’re resilient,” she echoed. She wished Bex was as resilient. She smiled weakly back at him as he agreed for them to be miserable together. That would be nice. She didn’t need someone trying to convince her that she was good. She just wanted to feel bad, just for a bit, just until she could get over it.
“I… still. I know that’s what matters, now, but still.” She’d just been rather caught up in herself, recently. Even before the mushrooms, with everything that went on with Roy, what was going on with Metzli and their sire, worrying over Bex because of that. “We’re here for each other now,” she said a little more firmly, for herself. Once she was healing better, she’d do better about being there for her friends. She’d be a better friend. Mina needed to learn how to be a better friend. She looked at him, her eyes soft. “I– Everything with Metzli happened while my head was still… too much, from the Fae mushrooms, so I didn’t really process that they were gone, really, and then they were messaging me, and they were back.” She was glad that they were back. It was strange to admit that she was glad that they were back. “It’s not in your head. I promise. They’re back.” She paused for a moment, as if waiting for the promise to break. “See? Not in your head. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be doing very well right now.”
Mina frowned at the mention of Murphy, the name familiar as the person that had hurt Bex and gotten locked in a mirror with her. “So she’s… she’s starving you? Why on earth would she think that’s a good idea?” Mina asked. Who could possibly believe that starving a vampire, and a young one at that, would be a good idea? The more she learned about her, the more that Mina didn’t care for Murphy at all. She sat there quietly, pondering Milo’s words as he played. She wanted to be a good friend, and he was starving. Not quite starving, but he needed to find a good source of blood. Mina was already injured, and, even if she wasn’t, she healed fast. She was used to bloodloss, used to being injured. And if she could help Milo, maybe that would be okay, right? Maybe that would be alright. “I… If you want, you could take some of my blood. It’s– It’s not the same as human blood. You’d need to keep supplementing it with animal blood. I’ve heard that it’s very sweet, and it– it can be… you don’t want to have too much of it. But it might at least make that one thing a little easier.”
Milo faltered, surprised to hear Mina had yet to see Bex. Regardless of where she was staying she was obviously capable of paying her girlfriend a visit. Maybe things between them were more complicated than he realised. It hurt to even consider. “Yeah, yeah, I’ve seen her.” He wanted to assure Mina that Bex was okay, but he also didn’t want to lie to his friend. “I mean, she’s… she’s okay, she’ll be okay. I think she’s just having a difficult time figuring everything out. I get it, I’m not exactly thriving either. None of us are.” He hummed quietly in acknowledgement of Mina’s healing process. Humans didn’t heal quickly, though double the speed had to count for something. It seemed no matter how serious her injuries had been, she was through the worst of them. Sensing her relief when she realised he wasn’t going to force her to talk, or feign happiness, his song began to slow again. Returning to the gentle pace he had originally started with. “No buts.” He countered. He didn’t want Mina to feel guilty for anything, not when they had both played a part in the distance between them. “It’s the only thing that matters, okay?” He prompted, not trusting her to believe him.
Shifting on the piano bench, intrigued by the mention of fae specific mushrooms, he resisted the urge to ask whether they were anything like magic mushrooms. Mina was confiding in him, and he wasn’t going to shatter the moment by zeroing in on what was potentially a new supernatural drug. Almost glad to hear that she had managed to escape the grief, and pain that came with mourning Metzli, he allowed himself to become distracted by their sudden promise. Holding his breath without meaning to, when a few moments had passed and they drew attention to the fact that they were fine, he felt a thousand times more sure, a thousand times lighter. Mina couldn’t lie. Metzli really had come back to him. Biting down on his bottom lip with a breathless laugh, his eyes shone with unguarded gratitude. Mina understood him, she understood how desperate he had been for the confirmation. “You could argue you aren’t doing too well anyway.” He pointed out, teasing her to the best of his ability. His smile fading again, replaced by an expression of both longing, and confusion. The word starve felt so dramatic, and yet perfect for his current situation. When he focused on his body, his throat was burning with thirst. A thirst that hadn’t been dampened since Murphy had stolen his supply of blood. “She wants to teach me control, but she also believes in… embracing the monster.” He felt awkward, and uncomfortable even saying the words out loud. Murphy had been born a wolf. It was different for her. He didn’t know how you were supposed to embrace a side of yourself that had been forced upon you by a stranger.
Though his song had tapered while he was waiting to see the results of Mina’s promise, it only came to a halt when he registered what she was offering him. Far beyond the response he had been expecting, he found himself staring at her in disbelief. “You… you would do that?” He asked, unable to understand what she would gain from such generosity. And she was already weakened, would she really be able to stand losing blood? Swallowing his desire, doing what he could to suppress it, his curiosity was almost impossible to ignore. “Who told you it was sweet? Have you… have you done this before?” He should snap out of it, he shouldn’t even be entertaining the idea. But it was so hard to say no when Mina was suggesting she consensually give him what he had been craving. You didn’t get more ethical, and less dangerous, than a supernatural friend attempting to help. Did you? Mina would know how to be careful, Mina wouldn’t willingly put herself in danger if she didn’t think she was able to maintain control. “Are you… you’re really serious?”
Watching Milo stumble a little, Mina quickly clarified, “She’s come by where I’m staying a few times, and I talk to her every day, I just… I wanted to know how she was around other people.” She bit her lip, looking away. “I know that she’ll be okay. I know everyone’s having a hard time. I’m sorry about it. I wish things were easier.” She made a lot of wishes these days, really. Stupid, useless wishes that would likely never come to pass. Maybe that was for the best. Mina saw what wishes did to Bex. She knew what they were doing to Metzli. When Milo tried to make her feel less guilty, it didn’t make the guilt go away, but she did nod her head. “Okay.”
Milo held his breath with the promise, just as Mina had, and she did manage a smile at the relief that filled his expression as he managed to laugh. She gave a soft chuckle of her own, her uninjured hand scratching at her neck. “I mean… no, I’m not doing the best, but I would be doing a lot worse. Broken promises are really not fun.” She watched him carefully, listening as he talked about Murphy and why she was doing what she was doing. “That’s cruel. And you don’t– You don’t have to be a monster to exist. This doesn’t seem very much about teaching you control. Depriving you of food… that’s something that someone bad does to prove a point.” And maybe Mina was thinking about it too simply, but that was how she felt. That was what she thought. And Milo seemed as adverse to his nature as she was. He didn’t seem to want to be amonser, either. If Mina didn’t have to, then neither did he.
“I would do that,” Mina said quietly, looking at her hands. It was the least she could do. She healed faster than any human Milo might pick. “I know it’s sweet because there’s no iron in it, so it doesn’t have that flavor. I’ve never done this, but– but, when I was younger, and my dad would do jobs with slayers, sometimes they’d use some of my blood to draw out spawn so that they could kill them. Vampires are apparently quite fond of it, of Fae blood. I think it makes them see through glamours, too. You just can’t have too much, and you have to supplement it, and we probably shouldn’t make this a permanent thing.” It could be addicting, and they never discussed it, but Mina was aware of Milo’s attachment to addictive substances. “I’m serious, yes.”
“Last time I saw her she… well, she wasn’t happy.” Milo admitted, seeing no reason to lie to his friend. “But I’ve also seen her pull herself out of dark places like, a thousand times. She misses you… I think she needs you, but you already know that.” It was the closest he would ever come to telling Mina what to do. It wasn’t his place to give advice unless he was asked for it, and it certainly wasn’t his place to order Mina, and Bex to spend time with each other. But it was important for him to make Mina understand her absence wasn’t beneficial. If anything, it was having a detrimental effect. He wanted them to move past whatever had happened. If he couldn’t be okay himself, then he at least wanted other people to be okay. “Maybe they will be easy one day. Metzli is always reminding me how young I am. How much life there is left to live. We’re all in it together, y’know… and I kind of like that. We’re together now when it’s difficult. And we’ll be together in the future… when it isn’t.” He didn’t consider himself an optimistic person, but as he spoke the words he almost, almost found himself believing them. A smile tugging at his lips as Mina agreed with him, he gently nudged her with his shoulder, careful not to exacerbate her pain. “I think you told me what happens when you break a promise.” He wrinkled his nose, making light of the situation to offer them both a temporary break. “Even human I knew it was better to avoid making them. I’m far too unreliable.” His smile faltering as the conversation moved on, he was reminded of his situation with Murphy. Of the many complicated emotions that came along with it.
He sighed, withdrawing from the piano so that he could rest his hands in his lap. “I don’t know if it counts as cruel, she really thinks she’s doing something good.” It was difficult to voice, but Murphy had comforted him on more than one occasion. And after he had visited her home she seemed to be protective of him in a way he wasn’t used to. She was looking out for him. Could she be blamed if he wasn’t compatible with her techniques? “I don’t think any of us are monsters. I did for a while… I woke up in a body that was so different from my body- from the one I was used to. And that was- I hated it. Everything felt so wrong. I’m beginning to feel like myself again though… I mean, I’m getting used to the fact that this is who I am. I wish Murphy could see that’s as valid as embracing it. I’m never going to love it like she does. I didn’t ask for any of this.” Reaching up absentmindedly to press his fingers against the scar at the base of his throat, he frowned, refusing to allow the memories of his attack to assault him.
Falling silent again, listening to Mina as she explained the way her parents used to use her blood, the fact that she had never let a vampire actively drink it herself made him uncomfortable. He didn’t want to put her in a position where she felt like she needed to feed him. He was still being careful, he wasn’t going to hurt anybody. She was under no obligation to try and protect the general public. Then again, she cared about him in the same way that he cared about her. She knew he was hungry, and she had a way to settle that hunger. He would do the same if the roles were reversed, they both knew it. “Glamours?” He had only heard the term used casually in conversation. Nobody had ever explained the specifics to him. “What kind of glamours?” The last thing he wanted to do was trigger whatever damage Virgil had done to his psyche. Did that involve glamours? Would he be more or less vulnerable should the fae try to make contact again? “I-” Ignoring the way being told he needed to limit himself made him want to overindulge, he nodded, lifting his head to hold Mina’s gaze. Even just her offering meant more than she could possibly know. He hoped his gratitude was showing in his expression. “If you’re sure…”
“I’m sure she wasn’t,” Mina said quietly. She didn’t think that Bex was very happy at all. Mina herself wasn’t particularly happy, either, and this was all her fault. She’d done this. She’d ruined everything. She was trying to stop thinking about that, even though it was the truth. She looked up at him softly. “You really think that? The– the being easier and the sticking around?” And there were times that Mina tried desperately to be hopeful, and there were times that it was too hard, but she wanted to be hopeful. She wanted to count on this. It was so strange. If she’d been told two years before, or even just a year, that she’d be friends with so many inhumans, that they’d be important to her, she’d have thought they were lying. This wasn’t supposed to be her life. Not at all. But it was. She was dealing with that. She could be hopeful and live with that. “I have told you what happens, yes. I mean… it does vary, a little, depending on the promise. But that probably wouldn’t have been a fun one to break.” It might have caused Mina to not exist. She didn’t know.
“I think, and I apologize if this is unwarranted, but I think that unintentional cruelty is still cruelty. Just because she thinks she’s doing something good, doesn’t mean that she’s actually doing something good.” And the words felt strange in Mina’s mouth, like something she was constantly reminded about but that she also refused to listen to. And maybe there were certain things about her life that she was ready to acknowledge, about the way she’d been raised, about how she’d maybe experienced more cruelties than she cared to admit, but not now. Not here. She looked away because she did think they were monsters, but she didn’t think she should mention that. “I can’t imagine going from being one thing to being another,” she said instead. It was bad enough that she’d always been Fae. She couldn’t imagine being human and having something turn her Fae. “I’m sure that was horrifying. I’m– I’m glad you’re embracing it, though. I think that’s a good thing, accepting yourself, in spite of it all.”
Mina brought her injured right hand to her left wrist and started rolling up the sleeve, exposing her wrist that was still patchy with scales that just didn’t seem to be going away. It would be best to use her uninjured wrist since it was unlikely that anyone would be checking it. “Glamours like… you’ll be able to see other Fae for what they really are, if they have wings or bark for skin or horns, things like that. I don’t know what you’ll be able to see with me, though. I don’t really glamour.” Mina allowed a few more scales to sprout up. “Those are mine. The skin is also mine. It’s not really glamouring.” She held her wrist out to him. “I’m sure.”
Milo swallowed any doubt that might show on his face. He believed it because he needed to. Because Metzli had convinced him it could be true. And maybe he could be to Mina what Metzli was to him. A positive influence. A reason to hope. “I think it’s possible.” He agreed, smiling softly at her. “And if it’s possible we can work towards making it happen, right?” He tried to imagine the perfect future. One where Mina, and Bex were happily married. Where Metzli had a partner, and he had a boyfriend, and there was no danger for any of them to run from. Their problems were as simple as sending wedding invitations, and organising pet sitters for collective nights out. Why couldn’t they have that? Why didn’t they deserve to have that? Listening to the brief elaboration on what a broken promise could do to a fae, the weight of her words wasn’t lost on him. Mina had taken a risk. A small one, of course, she knew she was telling the truth. But a risk, all the same. And she had done so to help him understand what was real. His mental wellbeing really meant that much to her. He opened his mouth, wanting to express his gratitude, but choked on his words before they could escape him. The habit of not thanking Mina, and not making promises to her had been a difficult one to fall into. He was finally beginning to catch himself. “It feels good to be sure.” He said instead, knowing she would understand the deeper implication of his words. “You didn’t have to do that.”
Turning his attention back to the piano, he played a handful of notes. He knew Mina was right in a lot of ways. That the intention behind Murphy’s actions didn’t change the fact that they were unfair, and somewhat controlling. But he couldn’t forget the vulnerability she had shown when she had clung to him after ‘losing’ Metzli. He had seen, on more than one occasion, that she cared about him. She genuinely wanted him to be okay. Shaking his head, he began to focus on his music once more. “I wouldn’t say I’m embracing it. I think if I embrace it… people get hurt.” He hated the fact that his instinct was to hurt people. Metzli had made it clear to him that he was built to hunt. He could fight back against his body, but nothing was going to change that. Regardless, he was determined to make the effort. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he didn’t. “But I’m learning to be okay with it. I mean, I was murdered… I don’t know how to get over that. And the guy who did this just… I guess he didn’t think I was worth sticking around for. It’s hard not to be bitter about being abandoned.” He sighed, his hands falling still to rest against the piano keys. They were cool, and smooth beneath his fingertips. “It’s taken a lot to get where I am.”
As Mina began to roll up her sleeve, he couldn’t help but feel awkward, and embarrassed. For all his talk of learning to accept himself, he did what he could to hide his fangs from people, and he couldn’t remember whether Mina had ever seen them before. If she hadn’t, he knew she was about to. Taking in the information on glamours, he did his best to file it away. If he had been taught anything during his time as a vampire, it was the importance of retaining information on his fellow supernatural creatures. Only raising his head when Mina held her wrist out to him, he was curious to notice the pattern of scales on her skin. He wanted to ask her whether that was a part of her healing process, or whether he should be concerned that maybe she wasn’t healing like she said she was. But he was too preoccupied, too overwhelmed by the prospect of blood. He hadn’t drunk from a person since his first day as a vampire. He didn’t know what the protocol was supposed to be. So he carefully took her wrist, holding it with his hands to keep it steady. Debating whether it would be more painful to break her skin quickly, or slowly, he leaned forward, letting his fangs slip out before he could change his mind. Before he could become too humiliated, or question the morality of what he was about to do. Pressing down with as much force as he dared, after a faint resistance, his fangs broke through, and warm, fresh blood flooded his mouth. Within seconds his nature took over, and he shifted in his seat, any hesitance leaving him. He pulled Mina closer, swallowing mouthful after mouthful, drinking as quickly as her body would allow. He could hear her heart beating in her chest, and it spurred him on. The taste was sweet, unlike anything he had ever tasted before. And he longed for more. He couldn’t stop even if he wanted to.
“Right,” Mina murmured. It was possible. It was possible for things to get better for them. For all of them. Even for her, if she let it, if she decided to stop feeling sorry for herself long enough to breathe. She wanted that. She wanted to let herself want that. It was… hard. Everything felt hard, and it felt heavy. She shrugged at him telling her she didn’t have to make the promise. “I wanted to. And it’s nice, isn’t it? To have the confirmation? Sometimes I think it’s nice.” Even if making promises wasn’t always nice, sometimes it helped. Sometimes it was worth it. In this case, it was worth it. She watched him play piano some more as he considered her words, and she allowed him to have that time. She soaked in the music instead, debating joining in with just one hand but deciding against it. She’d rather just listen, though. She didn’t have much heart for playing. “It’s hard to embrace things like that,” she said, and her words tasted like ashes on her tongue. She understood how hard it was. Every time she seemed to embrace what she was, something went wrong. Mina was perpetually one step forward, two steps back. “I don’t know what your sire was thinking, but he sounds like a bastard,” Mina said with as much vehemence as she could muster. “And… you should be proud, with how far you’ve come, I think. Being okay with being what you are… I know that’s difficult. It says something that you’re sitting here now, and you’re not feral.”
It took Milo so long to bite her wrist that Mina almost wondered if he’d go through with it, but he seemed to figure out what he was doing. Once he started, he didn’t seem to want to start. She wondered how long it had been since he’d had anything other than animal blood. Fangs cutting into flesh wasn’t any different than being stabbed, not really. If anything, it was gentler, kinder. The strangest sensation was being fed on. It wasn’t painful, not like she expected, not really. It was draining, though. Mina could feel a fatigue setting in the more that Milo took. She probably should have stopped him much sooner, but she didn’t have the heart to do so. Finally, when she knew he’d taken a little more than he should, she murmured, “Milo. Milo, you need to stop, now.”
“It is nice.” Milo assured Mina. He was frustrated by the fact that he couldn’t openly show his gratitude. But he knew she was used to people showing her they were grateful. She could probably recognise gratitude and thanks in a person’s expression, or in their body language. And that needed to be enough. Nodding with a grim smile, he didn’t look up from his hands. She understood the struggle of trying to accept what you were. She had never been human, but that didn’t matter. That didn’t make her pain any less than his. “I don’t think I even want to.” He admitted. “I want to be okay with it, but embracing it means… something else.” He thought of Murphy, of the violence she left in her wake. Of Eloy, and the countless lives he had destroyed. And even of the vampire who had killed him to chase a supernatural high. They weren’t fighting against their instinct, they were revelling in it. “I met him once.” He murmured, frowning as his song continued. It wasn’t something he enjoyed talking about, but in the safety of Mina’s company, the words escaped him without his permission. “I didn’t realise until after, but he recognised me. He recognised me and he didn’t say anything.” Offering a lazy shrug, he let the warmth of Mina’s assurance wash over him. He wasn’t proud of himself. He didn’t know how to be proud of himself. But he had come a long way, and it was undeniably an accomplishment. To survive what he had and still maintain a semblance of self. “Thank-” He broke off, a huff of breath escaping him, the sound both amused, and a little bitter. “I can’t say it…” He looked up at Mina, holding her gaze. He would do anything to be able to say thank you. “But you know… right?”
Despite the intimacy of the moment, and the heavy topic of their conversation, once he had broken the skin of Mina’s wrist, it may as well have been a different day. He may as well have been in a different room, with a different person. Every emotion seemed to dissipate. Every memory of his attack, of the struggles that had plagued him over the past nine months seemed to fade, leaving him with the sweet, delicious taste on his tongue, and a pleasant rush that he couldn’t quite place. It was all he could think about. There was no room for concern, or self control. And it would have stayed that way if Mina’s voice hadn’t forcefully cut through the haze, reminding him of his situation. Reminding him why he couldn’t afford to lose himself. He faltered, taking a second too long to remember where he was, and more importantly, what he was doing. But when it hit him, it hit him with strength. He withdrew. Pulling back quickly, blinking in the hope of his eyes returning to their usual colour. In the sudden silence, he reached up to scrub at his mouth with the sleeve of his jacket. Self conscious, and awkward. He was hesitant to acknowledge his friend, worried he might see disgust, judgement, or even fear in her expression, but her tone had been sharp. Had he taken things too far? He held her gaze despite wanting more than anything to avoid it. “I’m so sorr- shit.” He broke off, desperate to apologise. “Are- are you okay? I- I didn’t hurt you?”
Mina understood. She understood all too well. The idea of embracing what she was, who she was, how she was, it meant embracing something that was wholly inhuman. Mina wasn’t delusional; she knew that she’d never be human. But she’d lived an entire life striving desperately to be humane, and she didn’t want to accept inhuman ideas and mindsets because what if she did become a monster? What if she did become the kind of thing that hurt those closest to her on purpose? Mina didn’t want that. She didn’t want to be that. She’d give anything not to be that. “I’m sorry,” she said. “That he was like that.” And she was. He sounded cruel and wrong, to kill a boy and leave him to figure out his unlife on his own. That wasn’t right. Then again, she’d always been left to figure things out on her own. Maybe that’s the reason she was the way that she was. She smiled lopsidedly. “I’ll never use any thanks against you. Just don’t make a habit of thanking people like me,” she said. It would be safer for him that way.
Maybe Mina shouldn’t be putting this much trust in a vampire who had barely been a vampire for that long, but she didn’t attempt to jerk herself away. It was all she could think about, the various ways she should get rid of him, put down a monster just as she’d always been taught. Milo was her friend, though. She cared about him. Perhaps this would be for the best; he’d learn control if it was with someone that he didn’t want to hurt. And he managed to pull away eventually. She looked at him, feeling lightheaded and unsteady, but that was normal these days, wasn’t it? She was fine. “I’m fine,” she said, her tongue feeling thick. She cleared her throat and gave him another small smile. “I’m fine, really. You’re okay. Just be conscious about how much you’re taking.” She rolled her sleeve down and stemmed the bleeding. “We can’t do this often, but, if you need it…” she trailed off. If he needed it, then she’d let him have her blood. Not too much, and he’d have to supplement it, but she’d do it. She was tired. She probably needed to start heading back to the cabin, to the water. Instead, she wanted to just rest, if only for a moment.
“You don’t have to be sorry. It isn’t your fault, Mina.” Milo was touched by the sentiment, but didn’t enjoy the thought of his friend being forced to shoulder his burden. As of yet she had been nothing but a positive influence in his unlife. Guilt, and empathy should belong only to his killer. “I’ll be careful, don’t worry.” He smiled at her, pleased to hear he had a certain degree of freedom when it came to his use of language. He didn’t want to put her in a difficult position, he knew the power imbalance made her uncomfortable, but the clarification was comforting, regardless. “You know how much you mean to me… how much you matter. I don’t need to tell you like that, Mina. You’ll always be able to understand me.” He offered her a smile, hoping she could take comfort in the knowledge. He certainly did. When she brushed off his question, insisting she was fine, he debated pushing her, asking her if she really was fine, or if she was only able to say so because she was forcing herself to believe the statement was true. But he also wanted to believe it was true, so he ignored the worry gnawing at the back of his mind. It was soon replaced by an unnerving sense of shame. She was right, he had been too unfocused. Too distracted to even consider how much of her blood she could stand to lose. Swallowing his emotion, he nodded silently, a frown lightly creasing his brow.
“I know…” He hurried to assure her. He already understood this wasn’t something they could repeat with abandon. Mina needed blood to survive, continually taking it would only be increasingly dangerous. So why was he already working to figure out how much time needed to pass before it would be appropriate to ask for more? The first and only time he had ever drunk from a person, he had been out of control. He had no memory of what it felt like, what it tasted like, how it made him feel. And he was glad of that. He didn’t want to know how it felt to drain somebody of life, to feel somebody die in his arms. But this… he could remember this, and it had been so much better than he ever thought it could be. The blood was fresh, and warm, and sweet. Feeling his teeth pierce Mina’s skin… it was almost like giving in to every instinct he had been fighting. The rush was comparable to a high. He felt high. He wasn’t sure whether that was due to the fae blood, or the fact that his thirst had finally been sated. He did what he could to shake off the euphoria. It wasn’t lost on him that he only felt better because Mina had volunteered herself to feel worse. “Are you… are you going to need help getting home? Or I can play you something and we can stay here…”
“I’m still sorry,” Mina said. She could be sorry even if she wasn’t the one that hurt him. She could be just as sorry as she was about Metzli’s sire, as she was about Bex’s parents. Though, there was no one in the world Mina hated more than Bex’s parents, even after everything. “I appreciate that,” Mina said, a bit of a tease working its way into her voice. And maybe he could see that appreciation was safe. It was thanking Fae where things got complicated. “I know, Milo, and I do. Understand you. I do.” She got what he meant. And she knew that he was concerned about her, could see the crease between his eyebrows as he looked at her, and she couldn’t keep eye contact. She helped him out. That was enough. She was just as fine as she’d been before, when she’d first gotten there and sat down. She wasn’t really fine, and she didn’t think she would be, not for a long time, but she wasn’t any worse than she had been.
“I can stay here for a little while.” Enough time for some of the light headedness to go away. She might attempt to hobble out to one of the water fountains in the hall, but, otherwise, she was content to just sit with him for awhile. She’d need to leave eventually, need to order a car, head back to the cabin. She’d be traveling through the woods in the dark, but Mina wasn’t scared. She wasn’t scared of the dark. She nudged at Milo, turning him back to face the piano. With her good hand, she played a few short notes, leaning against him hesitantly. She wasn’t worried about hurting him. It would be so much harder to hurt him than if he was human. So she leaned against him a little more, hoping it was okay. It had been so long since Mina had been around people, not since Metzli visited, and they were cold, and so was Milo, but Mina missed touch. She’d never realized how much she missed touch. “I’m glad you agreed to come play tonight. Maybe next time I’ll be able to properly join in.”
“Well then,” Milo echoed Mina’s playful tone. “I guess I appreciate you being sorry.” And he did, he meant exactly what he said. But it was also a way for them to leave behind any tension, any heavy sense of seriousness that seemed to hang over them both like a cloud. They came to this room to escape, and they still had time to do just that. To let their lives disappear, if only for a little while. Noticing the way she averted her gaze, he eventually did the same. She did seem to understand him. Maybe in a way that others didn’t. He knew a lot of his friends secretly worried about him, or judged him for his habits, refusing to listen to him when he insisted he didn’t have a problem. Mina wasn’t like that. Mina had never said anything that set him on edge, or made him feel as though she was looking down on him for the things he enjoyed. Humming quietly in acknowledgement as she nudged him with her shoulder, it was obvious what she was encouraging him to do, and he placed his hands back on the keyboard, unable to ignore how strange they felt. How strange his entire body felt. Pressing down, allowing a few notes to ring out, he paused while Mina got comfortable, both surprised, and endeared when she rested herself against him. It was a relief to know she still trusted him. That she had seen the side of himself he so often resented, and decided he was very much the same Milo she cared for. “I’m glad you asked me to come.” He admitted, focusing once again on creating a song. It was happier this time, and filled with warmth. He poured his emotion into it, his memories of their time together. The things they suffered through, only to emerge stronger, and more sure in their friendship. Even though most people wouldn’t hear anything more than a song, anything more than a few hastily chosen notes, he knew that Mina wasn’t most people.
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the distance // self para
TIMING: current
SUMMARY: cass learns that some things in white crest aren’t as forgetful as she'd like them to be.
CONTENT: stalking
It was always easy to forget the things you wanted to forget. Cass had learned that early, had it drilled into her mind so often that it became as undeniable as the gravity holding her to the earth or the sun lighting up the sky. There was a grief that came with the way everything was temporary in the foster system, in her life, but there was a relief that came with it, too. If everything was temporary, nothing could hurt you forever. If everything was temporary, it was easy to wipe it from your mind as soon as it was over.
It had never really occurred to her before that this could be a bad thing, too. She’d never taken the time to consider that her method of coping might be doing her a disservice. She’d certainly never thought that it might wind up putting her in danger. But in a town like White Crest… Things were so much less temporary than they seemed.
So much had happened lately. There was everything that came with the way she was still trying to learn how to deal with who she was, what she was. There was the tree, and her part in ridding the forest of it. There was Metzli and their relationship with Macleod and Cass’s struggle to accept it. There was Marley and her quest to save Erin and her disappearance that followed. There was Bex and her bad luck demon, there was Kitty and the joyous dance off where they’d faced down Bart, there was Teagan’s illness and disappearance.
And there was the hunter. There was the hunter whose partner was rotting wherever Metzli left him, there was the hunter whose blood was still on the floor of the shop beneath Cass’s apartment, there was the hunter who’d limped away while Cass was struggling to get Marley to safety, her hands desperately trying to push blue blood back into a limp, barely conscious body.
There was the hunter and he was scary, and Cass was so used to the scary things being just as temporary as the good ones that she’d let herself pretend there was no hunter at all.
It was easier than it should have been. She’d mentioned it to Bex only once, and when there had been no immediate solution, she’d decided it was over. It was back before Marley handed her that book, back before she was willing to accept that she was something she knew so little about, and it had seemed easy to let go of the hunter because why wouldn’t she? Her denial had convinced her that he’d forget about her just as quickly, because hunters went after things that weren’t human and Cass had been so confident that that excluded her from their list of targets. There’d been some concern on Marley’s behalf, but when she got herself back into fighting shape again, even that had faded. Marley, Cass knew, could take care of herself.
So there was the hunter, but there wasn’t. There was the hunter, but as an afterthought. There was the hunter, but he was far away and inconsequential and nothing to worry about, not really.
There was the hunter, and he was outside.
She wasn’t sure how long he’d been there the first time she caught sight of him. It could have been minutes, if he wanted her to know he was there. It could have been days if he didn’t. In spite of her efforts to forget him, she recognized him right away. It was hard to forget the face of someone who’d been so intent on killing you, hard to forget the first person who’d wanted to hurt you specifically instead of wanting to hurt just anyone. When she saw him, standing across the street from her apartment with a cigarette in his hand, there was no question as to who he was. There was no question as to why he was there.
But he didn’t approach her. He didn’t barge into the apartment, didn’t jump her when she took her first hesitant step outside after spotting him. He just… watched. It took her a few more sightings to understand why. He walked with a limp now, dragged his leg behind him like it was a weight he wasn’t sure how to carry. His eyes darted from side to side when he stood across the street from her window like he was taking notes, like he was making sure he knew where everything was. He hadn’t attacked her yet, Cass realized, because he wasn’t sure he could win.
He’d come at her with a partner last time, an older man who was more experienced, and he’d lost. And, yeah, Marley had been the one to ensure that, but… The hunter was alone now. And Cass wasn’t. Marley came to hang out often enough before her disappearance, and though she obviously hadn’t been by since, the hunter couldn’t have known why. Metzli was there sometimes, too. Marina came by to watch Wrestlemania on the couch. Cass had people now, in and out and unpredictable. That didn’t mean she was safe — she wasn’t naive enough to believe that — but that meant the hunter would be careful. That meant he wouldn’t come at her until he had a plan. That meant Cass had time.
Just… Maybe not as much time as she might have liked.
She was coming back from a nightly patrol when she saw it. It wasn’t something he wanted her to miss, she knew; he’d taped it to the front door of the shop beneath her apartment, like a sign. He must have known that she’d seen him around, must have known that she was aware he was coming for her. Either he’d wanted it that way or he’d accepted the impossibility of a sneak attack and chosen to attempt to intimidate her to catch her off guard instead. She’d be lying if she said the intimidation wasn’t effective.
It was plain enough, the envelope he put it in. Stark white against the blue door, nothing written on the front. He must not have known her name. Cass didn’t know if that made it better or worse. She brought the envelope inside, shut the door behind her and latched it like that would change anything, like locks could keep her safe. She didn’t open it until she was upstairs, sitting on her sofa and trying not to remember how hard it had been to get the blood stains, both blue and red, out of the cushions.
Her hands trembled, just a little, as she tore the envelope open. It sounded deafening in the otherwise silent apartment, the ripping of paper like an airhorn as it cut through the room. Slowly, she lifted out the glossy paper that was inside.
A photograph. One of those old polaroids, blurry and grainy. Despite the poor quality, the men in the photo were easily recognizable. There was the hunter whose body she’d let Metzli take away, who she’d never asked about again as if it absolved her of what had happened to him. He was smiling, eyes bright and shining and alive as his arm, a blur of motion, seemed to be in the process of draping over the shoulders of the other man in the photo. He, too, was familiar. He looked so different in the picture than he had when Cass saw him with the older hunter, different than how he looked in the last few days when he’d been lurking around outside her apartment, staring at her window like he knew she was in there. He was laughing, in the picture. Doubled over with the joy of it, looking so much younger than he probably was. He looked happy. Cass felt sick.
The message, she thought, was a clear one. It was an effective one. It was a Tell-Tale Heart pounding beneath the floorboards, a coat of blood soaking her hands. It was a finger pointing firmly in her direction, assigning blame. A man was dead. A man was dead and Cass hadn’t killed him, but he wouldn’t have been dead if she were someone else. A man was dead and he was dead because of her, so it didn’t matter much how it happened. It was her fault, and she’d been stupid to think she could just get away with that. She’d been stupid to think he’d let her get away with that.
Her options were dwindling and she knew it. Even with Marley gone, she knew she could call Metzli for help, but what then? They’d wanted to kill the hunter from the start, and if they knew about this? Nothing would stop them. And it would be a cycle then, a never ending thing. This man wanted her dead to avenge his partner. If he died trying to achieve that, who would track her down to avenge that wrong? And the one after that? Could she live with herself, knowing someone else had died for her?
No. No, she didn’t want this man to die. She wanted him to do what she had done, up until now. She wanted him to forget about her. She wanted her presence to be a temporary thing that wasn’t worth holding onto for him, wanted him not to remember her face or her voice or her address. Bex had said her magic was on the fritz, before, but things were different now. The tree was gone and the roots were gone and the bad luck was gone and Spring was here.
Things were different now. Things could be different. Cass was going to make sure of it.
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Thank you to everyone who participated in this event! It was a blast reviewing all the entries, some of which certainly made us think we should have had a ‘humorous’ category! As it stands, everyone who entered will be getting a special little something…
Here are the winners in each category!
Structures:
Milo’s Anatomically Unfortunate Sand-Peen - “Get it? Because it’s been erected? Listen, we needed a winner for this category. Congrats, sand-peen.”
Lifelike:
Bex’s Dino Dig - “This entry made us feel like we were about to go on an adventure on an island full of living dinosaurs! Which is kind of scary, but quite a treat for the imagination! Very excellent job creating something to fit the environment.”
Weird:
Metzli’s “Death Hides in the Trees” - “Weird, this guy looks kind of familiar… The detail is incredible! Look at all those trees! We love a good tree. And a good Forest God that is definitely friendly and definitely not here to kill anyone. Fantastic entry.”
PRIZES: Every first place winner receives a large pearlescent trophy full of seawater, artificial reef, two clownfish, and a blue tang! Additionally, each character that entered will receive a special prize from the panel of judges. These will be messaged to players on Discord tomorrow! Some of these prizes are weird/dangerous/full of plot, so there’s no pressure to accept the prize IC if it disrupts anything, but we hope they’re largely enjoyed.
Thanks for participating!
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How Do You Do? || Bex & Eloy
TIMING: Oct. 14, Evening
PARTIES: @inbextween @eloycadena
SUMMARY: Eloy comes to town for a short visit, Bex runs into him.
CONTAINS: Emotional Abuse, Domestic Abuse, Vampire Compulsion, Murder
Eloy’s shoes clacked on the sidewalk, passing the library and staring idly at his phone as he walked to the meeting point he had discussed with a prospective colleague. The air was much crisper in Maine, colder and full of humidity that Mexico did not have. Especially at night. He was used to a drier climate, and he completely detested Metzli’s choice. Maybe that’s why they had picked it. They knew he’d taught the clan the importance of hiding in plain sight. Sun brought a sense of bliss, and bliss brought ignorance, and ignorance brought plentiful food for himself and the other clad members.
Pocketing the phone, a familiar face caught his attention. A face only seen on a screen. Bexley. Eloy smiled wickedly and he couldn’t believe his luck. Two birds with one stone. Initiate plans to torture Metzli, and leave a proper message to them.
Throat cleared, and Eloy asked a question to a very oblivious Bex. “Excuse me, where can I find a Ms. Metzli Bernal?” His voice was taunting and low, baring his fangs and looking deeply into Bex’s eyes as he covered her mouth to pull her into a dark area. The shadows concealed them and it worked in his favor. “Tengo mucha suerte hoy. How do you do, Bexley?” Her mouth was released, but Eloy loomed over her carefully, anticipating an attack from her.
Bex had accidentally stayed a little too late at the library, digging through book after book and finding no answers. And now the sun was beginning to dip below the treeline and that meant it was getting dark, and Bex couldn’t very well stay out past dark if she wasn’t letting Mina do that. It’d be awfully hypocritical of her. She stacked up her books and shoved them into her bookbag and scrambled for the door, thanking the lady at the front desk as she ran out the doors. If she hurried, she could get home in time to not make anyone worry, and she really was over people worrying about her just because she came home a few minutes late.
Her skirt caught on the door and she groaned, because of course that would happen right now. She turned around to tug the fabric off of the piece of stray metal that was poking out of the inside of the door, clearly a broken bit that hadn’t been fixed. Maybe the library could use a nice donation for a new front door. She didn’t even notice the figure sauntering towards her until his hand was over her mouth and she was being tugged into the alley and-- this had happened before, hadn’t it? This had happened before. She clawed at the arm that was holding her, it wasn’t possible, Frank couldn’t be alive, it couldn’t be--
It wasn’t. Her back hit the wall and above her towered a man she’d never seen before. She didn’t need to recognize him, though, to know who he was. Instinctually, a wall of violet rose between them, flickering magic. Her heart was pounding, but she couldn’t let him see her fear. She wouldn’t let him. “You know, you could just ask to talk,” she finally managed to say, “dragging people into dark alleys could give them the wrong idea.”
Bex’s heart thumped rapidly and harshly in Eloy’s ears, making him smile even wider. The taunting, the fear, the pain, it was all a part of the fun. Fear and the way it affected the body always made his skin crawl with excitement. He already knew she would be fun based on her online responses alone. But now that he had her right in his grasp, he could see how much fun he could truly have with her. “No, I’m giving you the exact right idea. I want you to be scared, Bexley. I want Metzli to be scared.” A humming emanated from the flickering magic, and the glow enticed him. This was new for him. He’d heard of witches, of spellcasters, but so rarely had to deal with them personally. “Your brujeria isn’t really worth much here.”
Mist enveloped the two and Eloy disappeared as the air grew thicker. Air collected together right next to Bex, and Eloy manifested closely to her. A hand wrapped around her throat while the other grabbed one of her arms. His grip threatened to break it, but he refrained from doing any real damage yet. “What should I do to you first? How should I break my little toy?” His face was dangerously close to Bex’s cheek, whispering into her ear, letting stubble graze her skin. “I can hear your fear.”
Eloy couldn’t help but laugh as he pulled back to look at her a little more clearly. Pupils contracted as her heartbeat grew louder in his ears. He thought of how fun it would be to pierce her skin. For one reason or another, she mattered to Metzli. Even after years of proper discipline, the idiot went and built connections and made themselves weaker. “Aren’t you just so happy to meet Metzli’s master?”
If he wanted her to be scared, then she wouldn’t be scared. Bex couldn’t control her heartbeat anymore, but she could steel her expression and make sure he didn’t get the pleasure of seeing that on her face. Even if she was afraid. She could feel her magic boiling beneath her skin, screaming to be let out, to protect her, to fight back. But she couldn’t show her hand just yet, she needed to know what he was capable of first. Nell had already told her mental magic couldn’t affect the undead, so all Bex was left with were the physical spells Sai had taught her, and the wild magic that so often erupted from her. Doing that would draw attention, though. She wasn’t sure that was the best idea.
But she didn’t have much time to consider any options before the vampire disappeared into a cloud of mist and she found her breath catching in the thick air. She stiffened as a hand tightened around her throat, her wrist. Her skin was buzzing, pulling defensive magic to the surface, ready to strike. She glared into his eyes and set her expression in stone, frowning. “Sorry, that’s not fear, it’s just my heart condition. Easy mistake to make, though, I understand. When you spend most of your time hiding behind other people, it’s hard to tell the difference between real life things.”
She hated the feel of his cold hand and bristes of stubble and fought the instinct to jerk away, simply turning her head away from his gaze. “Happy isn’t the word I’d use,” she growled. “And I’m not your toy. That makes you sound like a creep, but I guess I can’t expect much more from the guy who sends groupies to take pictures of people through their windows. Didn’t your mother teach you peeping is wrong?”
“¿No te da verguenza hablar así?” A thick accent, with layers of life and history was attached to every word. It was an accent that most people in Mexico could recognize and would immediately know that Eloy was from Jalisco. It was an accent Metzli had, but theirs was much more diluted. “Oh, I apologize. I should translate.” The grip around Bex’s throat tightened, “Are you not ashamed to speak in such a way? All this bravado, and for what? Reckless puta.” Teeth were gritting and fangs throbbed. He could send the message now. Drain her completely and destroy them instantly. But there was no fun in that. Instead, he raised Bex’s wrist to his face. He could feel her resistance, but it didn’t matter much to a three hundred year old vampire.
A smile formed slowly once again, enjoying the way Bex tried to pretend she wasn’t scared and ignoring her snide comments. He’d lived long enough to know an act when he saw one. “No, you aren’t my toy. But Metzli is. I really love playing with their pain. You ever wanted to see them chained up and starved? That’s just the first part of the fun.” Eloy taunted Bex with his plans, knowing how her anger fueled the buzzing of energy he felt underneath his fingertips. It was just waiting to burst. “Oh, well look at that. You’ve already been bitten. Was this Metzli’s doing? Forced or offered? And I see you have another on your neck.” Excitement brewed in his voice and he had to choke back a laugh.
“Do you think Metzli would come to me if I left you as a bloody mess at their door? I always did have a way of making them break with just a look. Imagine what I could do with some leverage.”
Bex tried to pull her wrist back, but his grip was too strong. Right, superstrength. Everyone and their fucking mom around here had superstrength. Even Nell had a spell for superstrength. Bex just had useless, incorporeal magic. No...no that wasn’t all she had. She grit her teeth, scowling at him. She knew he could kill her so easily if he wanted, but he wouldn’t. Not this early. She knew this kind of person, it was the kind of person her mother had been. He wanted to savor her pain, Metzli’s pain. It was just about how much he wanted to dole out right now. Bex wasn’t about to let him do it for free, though. She’d fight. She’d told Mina she’d fight. Actually, she’d told Mina she’d be careful, and she had been careful, really, it wasn’t her fault he’d happened to find her. Unless he’d been looking for her and she’d been oblivious and led him right to her.
She couldn’t think about that right now. “I spent a long time feeling ashamed,” she growled through the hand on her throat, voice strained against the tightening grip, “you don’t make me feel anything close.”
She didn’t need to respond to his taunts. He was clearly trying to rile her up, get some sort of emotional reaction out of her. And, maybe, now was the time to get emotional. It was time to let it all go. She felt her breathing increasing, heart pumping, as she let the anger she felt at him rise to the surface. Magic bubbled inside of her and seeped from her skin and she pulled on the anger she felt at Roy, at the theater, and the anger she felt at her mother, for everything she’d done, and the anger she felt now, towards this man who thought people were possessions and if she tried really hard, she could see her father standing there.
And Bex cried out as she let her magic manifest in a physical wave, shoving the two of them apart like an explosion. Her back hit the brick wall, and so did her head. Stars in her eyes, she fell over onto the trash can beside her, scrambling to get away from the alley. If she could just reach the light, reach someone else-- surely he wouldn’t kill her in public, right? She just needed to run away. She was good at running.
A wave of deadly lilac light burst between the two, sending not only Bex back, but Eloy too. He groaned, frustrated and annoyed with her sudden act for reprieve. “Pinche bruja.” He muttered, stumbling to his feet and lunging after Bex. Hands clasped onto ankles, causing her to trip and fall. With a smile, he dragged her back and didn’t care how hard she fought. This altercation was getting fun, and he wanted to savor it. “That was a neat trick, chulita. But you’re gonna need to do a lot more than th—” Sentence was cut off, words right at the tip of his tongue as a stranger made an appearance at the end of the alleyway. On pure instinct, Eloy grabbed Bex and covered her mouth to prevent her from screaming.
“Hello? Is everything okay?” The man asked, sounding genuinely concerned for whoever was in the darkness. Eloy smiled widely and continued to hold Bex still as he called out, his voice taking on Bex’s, “I’m really hurt. A guy, h-he attacked me. I can’t move.” The voices were nearly indistinguishable, even taking on a fearful tremor. Footsteps grew rapidly closer and Eloy brought the two of them to standing as the would-be hero ran towards them. But before he could register the vampire holding Bex hostage, a hand gripped his face and slammed it into the brick wall.
“Pobrecito, he never stood a chance.” Eloy mocked and laughed at the bloody mess he created. “And it’s all your fault too. You just had to make a scene. Look what you’ve done.” Lips grew increasingly close to Bex’s neck, opening to let fangs graze her shoulder.
Hands grabbed her ankles and Bex toppled to the ground, arms scraping against pavement. That would hurt in the morning. If she made it to morning. Eloy began dragging her back and she clawed at the ground, not caring how bloody her hands became as she grappled for anything to grab onto, anything to get away from him with. She grabbed whatever her hands found-- old cans, stones, empty food boxes-- but it didn’t stop him. It wouldn’t stop him. She tried to build her magic up again, but it was fizzling beneath her fingertips as her heart pounded out of control. If he didn’t kill her, her heart just might. She kicked out at him, just like she’d kicked out at Frank. The alley was turning into a cold, dark forest before her eyes. Cement turning to mud. She begged her mind to stay in the present, but it was dissolving quickly.
She felt the hand over her mouth, just like Frank had done. She heard the unfamiliar voice calling out, just like Nell and Mina had. And then she heard her own voice, even though she knew she wasn’t speaking. A shadowed figure was coming towards them. It was a man, but Bex only saw Nell. Get back! She wanted to shout, but found she couldn’t, her voice lost. It felt as if he’d stolen it from her. Please no!
She heard the crack of a skull against brick and flinched. She clawed at the hand on her mouth, desperate to try and get air, tears streaking unwantedly down her face. She was staring wide-eyed at the slumped body, bleeding against the forest floor, trying to tell herself it wasn’t Nell, it’s wasn’t Nell, it wasn’t Nell, that she didn’t even notice fangs near her neck until they were already piercing her skin.
Teeth sank in for a moment, not too deep, just enough to make blood pool at the small piercings. Eloy only savored what little sustenance that gathered on her shoulder for a few seconds before he pushed her into a wall. It took so much of his willpower to not bite again. Bex’s blood had just tasted so good. Even better than he could’ve imagined, especially while knowing how much it would kill Metzli. He looked forward to those photos, to their pain being etched in a digital memory for him to keep and laugh at.
Eloy forced Bex to look him in the face, meeting her eyes with his. There was a crazed look to them. His pupils were so small, like a predator staring at his prey. And that’s what she was, ultimately, but right now, she had to be a message.
Pulling Bex into a trance of submission, he felt her face relax and watched as her eyes went blank. “You’re going to walk home, and you’re going to let me join you. And then when we get there, you’re not going to scream. You’re going to stand at your door until someone finds you. Now, let’s go.” Eloy pulled Bex harshly by her elbow and motioned her to the alley’s exit. He was extremely proud of what he’d been able to do, even relishing in the way the man’s heartbeat began to slow into nothing.
Bex cried out when teeth sunk in, snapping back to reality. The forest fell away and she was in an alley and there were arms around her and teeth in her neck and blood pooling out. And her heart was beating too fast and she couldn’t breath and she was panicking. She knew she was panicking. She squirmed and writhed, but to no avail. Heavy hands pushed her into the wall and her head lulled to the side. Blood pooled from the wound and dripped down her neck to her collar bone, gathering where the collar of her shirt began, staining it. She could see the look in his eyes, how he wanted more. She was worried he would take more. She didn’t want to die.
Weak hands reached up to try and push him away, even her magic failing her. A hand forced her head back up, to look him in the eyes. She didn’t even have time to process what was happening before her body went slack and all she could do was stare, breath shuddering.
When he yanked her, she followed. She had no choice. Her body moved even as her mind screamed. Even as her body ached. Legs kept moving as she marched all the way to East End, through the winding neighborhood, and right up to the front door, with its black polish and decorative skull hanging on the outside. They’d all spent an afternoon together, decorating for Samhain, and now Bex was staring the deer skull she’d crowned in the eyes.
And that was all she could do. Even as blood continued to seep slowly from her wound and the muscles in her legs were screaming to sit down and her heart was beating much too fast, she thought it might just explode.
It was dark now. Her eyes were drooping. Eloy had long since left. She wanted to knock, she wanted to scream, she wanted to cry.
But she stayed standing, and wondered when someone would finally open the front door.
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World Turned Rainbow | Eilidh & Metzli
SETTING: Crest Works Art
TIMING: Last night.
PARTIES: @deathisanartmetzli & @braindeacl
SUMMARY: Eilidh and Metzli have some fun in the gallery.
WARNINGS: Drug use
Approaching people had been particularly daunting the past few days. Most of the wounds had finally healed, but Metzli still appeared a little worse for wear. Even sporting their favorite suits, they hid away. Keeping to their office, they worked on the new budget they acquired thanks to Bex. Who they had drank blood from, twice now. With a groan, they pushed aside the pestering thoughts and the even more pestering paperwork to talk a walk in the gallery. Today they would greet their patrons as they usually did, today they would start anew.
Hair lively bounced with each clack on the tile floor, welcoming every person they saw in the gallery. There was a new rotation of works, so the place was filled with more people than usual. Some were the artists themselves, and some were intrinsic minds that delved into the art world, seeking to gawk at works they could not create. Maybe even seeking a small escape into the images depicted on canvas and stone alike.
As Metzli made their way to the back of the main gallery, a fair woman caught their eye. She was studying their painting, possibly even admiring it. Their smile grew, making their rounds until they reached her, saving her for last. “Good afternoon,” They greeted her with a smooth and gentle voice, trying to make a good first impression. “I see you’re enjoying my masterpiece. I have another just down that way, but this one is much more special.”
Those walls still pressed against her skin. Clung to Eilidh like a lover’s embrace. But love was not returned. Instead, it was stolen from her; left her hollow. Determined to render her a copy of that underground prison. Or to fill its own cavity. But it was endless and she was finite and could only give up so much before she was nothing. And that nothingness knocked on her door. So, she ran from it. All across town. Filling her mind, her soul, with all it could offer. So the knocking was harder to hear. So the cavern had other things to steal. Mindless wandering led her to the gallery. A first encounter. Not that she wasn’t interested in the arts. She just preferred the creations of nature than to canvas. But it was new. And she needed new. And these walls didn’t cling to her.
And luckily the creations of nature weren’t far. Imitated upon the canvas. From a distance, some could be mistaken for windows. Stuck in time. But close inspections always revealed those telling brushstrokes. Eilidh passed by these frozen windows—peering into days long gone. A stroll through time and space. Until an outlier arose. Less of a window to the world, more like a window to the mind. Though she did wonder the truth of its depiction. A living raven didn’t seem interested in suits, but a decayed one might. Was there one right now, somewhere, enjoying a three-piece? Ponderings stopped with a voice. Like a cool stream after a hot summer’s day. Eyes followed its trajectory—found a matching visage. Peppered with signs of distress, but a delightful visage to look at, all the same. Attention took turns with the creator and the creation, noting how both sported a dashing ensemble. “Oh? ‘Cause you two match?” A chuckle tickled her lips.
“I was going to say it was because you were looking at it, but that response is a thousand times better,” Metzli replied delightedly, their smile growing wider at Eilidh’s witticism. It wasn’t often that someone caught them off guard like that—in such a positive way at least. Upon further inspection of the woman, she was almost certainly a whole foot shorter, but they did have a soft spot for those too small to reach their head. “Beauty and wit, I like that. I’m Metzli Bernal, creator of that painting, and owner of this gallery.” They adjusted the cuffs of their sleeves before clasping their hands behind their back.
“Who do I have the pleasure of speaking with?” They asked, leaning in slightly with an aura of not only attention, but intention. Regardless of whether or not Metzli would strike out once again—because somehow everyone they flirted with was taken—they didn’t care. Finding solace in simple connection and idle prattle was becoming a frequent thing. Something they could get used to, especially if the people of White Crest were all this funny and intriguing.
Beauty and wit! They were certainly obvious in their intentions. It was charming and refreshing, the forthrightness of it all. Burst of a chuckle shot from Eilidh’s mouth, exposing her gapped tooth smile. “Ah, owner! Flirtin’ a common tactic for business reasons? Or’s this personal?” Despite the implied accusation, her tone remained light. A soft jab if assumptions were true, or an open door for following coquetry. The name held a ring of familiarity, though she could not place its source. Not uncommon, this was a small town after all. Metzli grew closer—a slight adjustment in posture, but height resulted in them nearly hovering above. Eilidh leaned in turn, fitting in that space below their head. Keeping those eyes locked upon their own. Held it there, before a finger pressed on their abdomen. “Got a button loose.” When they fell for her trick, that pressing finger switched from abdomen to nose, flicking it. “Bloop.” Something rumbled in her chest, it sounded amused. “Call me Macleod.”
“It certainly can be,” Metzli replied, shrugging and snickering softly. Her gapped smile was endearing, leaving them with a buzzing in their stomach. How strange, they thought to themselves. “But this approach is for personal enrichment. It’s not often that I get a patron with your charm.” It was true. Eilidh’s lightsome approach and attractive features had a pull that was like a moth to a flame.
Falling for the juvenile trick, Metzli returned the laughter and enjoyed Eilidh’s in return. It was only then, when listening to her entertained reaction, that they heard a lack of something. A lack of a heartbeat. The pull grew even stronger, prompting them to continue, “It is an absolute pleasure, Macleod...” Metzli motioned for a handshake, pulling in her death-ridden hand to plant a small kiss to the back of it. “Wait a minute. Macleod. Why does that sound familiar?” They asked, a look of recognition painted on their face. Her name sounded so familiar, but they’d never seen her face before. Wouldn’t be hard to remember. “Have we met?”
A brow quirked in amusement. The charm was thick and loud, and Eilidh let herself be washed up in it. A wonderful distraction. And perhaps a bit of fun for later. “And I don’t often meet someone so blunt.” Especially in this town, a place of many secrets hushed on the wind. She understood the need; took part as well. But it often bled into the personal. This person seemed untouched by it all. Easy to read. At least, that's what she told herself. And she liked what she was reading. Her hand did not feel their lips press—too soft to combat the numbness. But eyes saw the motion, replicated a warmth on the back of her hand when Metzli met it. When head returned upright, she saw that flash of recognition play out in their eyes. Mirrored in her own mind moments prior. “Likely. Small town. Hard to avoid anyone. Got any one-nighters you can’t place a face to?” Spoken in jest, though that exact situation had occurred to her in the past. Blink. Something stirred in the back of her mind. A something that would solve the puzzle, and she knew it would, and it knew it would. But it stayed just out of reach, on the tip of her tongue. Then it finally fell to the back of her throat. Her head cocked curiously. “Mushrooms?” Tone implying the word may as well had been a nickname for an old friend.
“I don’t think I’d be able to forget a face like yours,” Metzli said cooly, smiling as bright as a summer’s day in July. “Besides that, I’ve managed to strike out consistently due to everyone being in a damn relationship. No one likes to have fun anymore.” A mocked frown plastered itself on their face, rolling eyes that settled once more on Macleod.
Their brow arched, “Mushrooms!” This time excitement tethered itself to their voice. Macleod was the woman they grew an innate interest in over something as simple as the internet. “Ah! Yes,” Metzli hands clasped together and gestured in victory upon finding the answer. “I was greatly disappointed that we never got the chance to meet. This’ll do though.”
Space was subtly decreasing between the two, unbeknownst to Metzli, they were leaning in further. They were so much taller, so they naturally had to do so in order to be as close as they wanted to be. Well, as close as was socially appropriate. “You wouldn’t happen to have any on ya?” They asked, narrowing their eyes with playful curiosity. “We could have a little fun right here.” Their left eye winked, with a grin that knew how stupid they were being. It was all for Eilidh’s amusement, just so they could see that smile.
Another trait of small towns—committed relationships were frequent. Or there was someone else on the mind, yet to be entwined. Eilidh didn’t mind the potential baggage the latter brought. She rarely stayed anywhere long enough for it to cause issue. “Everybody does know everybody. Just gotta know where to look.” She winked. “New in town?” Ding, ding, ding—assumption confirmed. There was the beginnings of another smile at the connection. Seems fate intended them to meet. All obstacles be damned. Like that night. “Right…” Mind flashed to the tree, to the darkness, to the nothing, to the…
……
Air grew tight, walls closed in. Eyes tried to focus back—saw the walls were made of fabric instead of dirt. Instincts pricked and snarled. Head struck forward under its thrall, thumping onto the other’s chest. When the two pair of eyes met again, old spark had returned in Eilidh’s. “Like how you think.” Spoken as if the previous action hadn’t transpired. And mind so cloudy, part wondered if it actually had. Her hand dug into a pocket, fishing out the drug of choice. Bits here and there, remnants of a larger pile recently reduced. Another distraction. Bag wiggled, as did her brow. “Got enough for a hit.” Unknowing it may be of use, in those moments alone, her stake was left back at her trailer. But she always carried a blade, strapped securely to a thigh. And knew it well, if the need arose. Until then, she’d enjoy the fun this Metzli could provide. They seemed to be full of it.
The impact to Metzli’s chest made them exclaim in surprise, “Oof! Ow!” The wounds from the eventful night with Milo made themselves known, making the space grow as they stepped back and gathered themselves. Before doing so, Macleod looked a little frazzled herself, but there wasn’t enough time to dwell on that or their wounds when she pulled out her bag. “Yeah I’m definitely pretty fresh. I’ve only been here eight months.” Eyes darted about the gallery. There were too many people to do anything privately, but they were feeling pretty lively today. Shoulders rose and fell in a shrug, settling on a decision.
“You wanna do it now, cariña?” Metzli began to tease, their lips curling into a mischievous grin. Their accent binded to their words, embarrassment showing on their face for mere moments. “We can give these paying customers a real show. A performance piece.” A cold hand brushed against the wall near their painting, leaning sultrily, no longer imposing on Eilidh’s space.
Eilidh’s mind travelled back to the woods, to that destined spot. But eyes perceived the crowd, the bodies swarming the walls. Mind’s premonition would be left unfulfilled—own body deciding to remain amongst the others. The others so unexpecting of what was running between the two’s thoughts. Of the fun that would be had, a few paces away. Fun for them, at least. Another amused rumbling formed at the idea—compelled her to stay. To let them lose themselves, right then and there. What would be unlocked, in those frozen windows covering every surface? She was excited to know, to see. “Hope you got insurance.” Voice light and playful, but there was a steadiness to her gaze. Implying a hint of truth. Hands worked swiftly to reveal the mushrooms to the stale air. Brittle lilac wanting to break, and it did so gladly as she separated a chunk into two. “Fuck the customers. Just focus on me.” Her piece slipped passed her lips, down throat. Other half remained in her hand. But she offered it to Metzli, almost pressing it on their lips.
Eyes widened, shock and surprise from Eilidh’s excitement and subsequent approval covered their expression. Her tenacity was unlike anything Metzli had seen before. With no regard for her surroundings, their lips curled into a smile, watching Macleod take her piece. They were really going to do this. Perhaps their impulsivity and lack of thought on the matter was going to rear its ugly head at them later, but they didn’t care. At least, a part of them didn’t. The other, more responsible half that adored the gallery cared a lot. Insurance was something they definitely had, but they couldn’t imagine what damage could be done right now. Not when Macleod was offering their piece to them.
Silencing that irksome voice, Metzli leaned forward, “The customers aren’t the ones I want to fuck. So I’ll gladly focus on you.” Their voice was low, raspy, and wanting as they ushered the mushroom in Macleod’s fingers to their lips, using their teeth to take it and then standing erect to chew and swallow.
Maybe this would be disastrous, maybe this would be detrimental to their gallery; or maybe, just maybe it was the fun they needed to unwind and feel free for a while. Finally relaxing into the decision, a hand slid up Eilidh’s arm, “You want to give them a show? Bet we can scare them into leaving.” The hand slid back down and brushed away to rest back at their side. A chuckle escaped the confines of their throat, and they pushed away from the wall to stand closer and wait as the mushrooms took effect.
Brows rose and fell in unison. “Good. Glad we’re on the same page.” Despite attention being placed on that surrounding congregation, eyes did not leave Metzli. Short, airy laugh rushed through. Disturbed a bit of fabric on their suit. “Seems bad for business. But, since you don’t mind.” In the dwindling window of normalcy, Eilidh took a fleeting moment to refamiliarize herself with those glimpses in time. Gaze returned to one that piqued the most interest. And grew irate when others had fallen to its thrall. Hand brushed against Metzli’s arm—as theirs had done to hers. Almost tickling against the skin. But it ended with a hold—teeth flashing—and she led the two of them over to her favored painting. As distance grew short, teeth flashed again. But their intentions were different for these other onlookers—snapping and cracking in a threat. Murmuring amongst themselves, they hurried over to another section of the gallery. Clearly satisfied, she beamed back at Metzli. “Let’s start here.” The smile remained, strong and firm, as a warm trickled down her head. Fell down into her eyes, melting the colors of Metzli’s suit together.
Watching Macleod snap like a madwoman at the patrons, a breathy giggle surfaced, one that Metzli had never made before. It was unrestricted and high, echoing in their ears as amorphous colors blurred past them. When they came to a halt, the world tilted and a hand grabbed firmly onto Eilidh’s shoulder to keep balance. Another giggle brushed their throat, the sensation a buzz that sent a chill down their spine.
With their faltering focus back on the Eilidh, the colors on her clothes melded together and hummed so powerfully that it reached the surface of Metzli’s skin. It made their suit jacket and tie grow in weight, a weight they wanted to remove, so they did. Their jacket and tie fell to a heap on the floor and the outside onlookers continued to murmur, furrowing their brows in confusion. Undeterred, their dress shirt became halfway unbuttoned. “Your wish is my command, Macleod.” Fangs greeted her as their mouth formed a toothy grin, eyes glowing red as the excitement peaked. Only Eilidh could see, Metzli’s back faced the patrons.
Cold lips suddenly pressed against those matching in temperature. Arms wrapped around in a firm embrace. The voices surrounding the two grew louder and more disturbed, followed by one of their employees asking Metzli what they were doing. Breaking away, they said, “New performance piece. Don’t mind too much.”
Her eyes remained transfixed on the painting. Watched as stagnant waters became rapids. As a sudden wind breathed life into dead trees. Fronds turned fingers—reaching out to Eilidh. Passed the frame, into the air. Entwined around her arms, gripping her down into the fixed window. Bursts of colors; bursts of sounds. Drenched in rainbow and symphony. Crash of cymbals carried a familiarity. When she followed that déjà vu, found the source was her own throat. Overcome with giggles—harmonizing into an ensemble. Her hands danced to this music, fluttering by her face. Other hands found her, different from the ones before. Pulled her out instead of in—into an embrace. Mouth found a partner and those giggles reverberated down both throats. Tongue soon followed, over two sets of teeth. Finding its own match, intent on staying.
Until a familiar click.
Mouth and teeth snapped shut, barely missing snapping Metzli’s lip in turn. A sizable crowd had formed, but Eilidh’s eyes easily found the perpetrator. Betrayed by the sheen of camera’s lens. Every spectacle had its memorabilia. Her lips peeled back. Teeth shook under the snarl stampeding out. All things heightened, even anger. One swift step, and she was close enough to grip the camera. One swift tense, and it cracked and snapped under her fingers. Clattering to the floor in unrecognizable bits.
“Everyone out! Get everyone out, Richard. And go home. Everyone goes home. This is a private performance.” Metzli commanded, seeing how Macleod responded to her picture being taken. It was hard to focus, colors and shapes melding together harmoniously, making their skin vibrate. The customers and employees only saw their side profile, a method they were using to hide their vampiric features. Everything continued to shift in their line of sight. They felt like they were floating, forgetting the small interruption already and pulling Eilidh back into them. Everyone was shuffling out already, fear halting any other captures from being taken.
Macleod’s features seemed to jitter, a comfortable sight, even bordering on satisfying. “Forget them. The gallery is ours now.” Metzli pulled her face to lock eyes with her, gently taking her chin and guiding her face. The dance of hums increased, all the paintings joining in on the ensemble to create a euphonious experience.
While Metzli stood obscured, the crowd could not even attempt to ignore Eilidh. Teeth still bared—exposed to air that forced salivation. Dripped down her chin. Mouth turned waterfall, and when she looked down a river had formed at her feet. It gushed out, lapping at the departing crowd. As eyes returned to them—bodies weaving in and out—she threw the remaining chunk of camera in her hand. It meddled with those bodies, lost to that flow. Brought the giggle back to her lips, despite the reasoning lost on her. The sound felt good on her ears, and they hardly noticed when departing footfalls stopped. Alone.
Attentions turned from the emptiness to the beauty beside, gentle touch instructing. But the wild still claimed Eilidh. Gentleness was not returned; she leapt onto Metzli with a hunger. Mouth met them, as mouth did when hungry. But it was with lips instead of teeth. And the world was rainbow again.
#wickedswriting#world turned rainbow#chatzy#;— interactions#ft. metzli b.#drug use tw#// the title on the doc is 'metzli FINALLY gets lucky'
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Keep You Right Here || Bex & Metzli
TIMING: Current
PARTIES: @inbextween @deathisanartmetzli
SUMMARY: Bex helps Metzli return home.
CONTAINS: Domestic abuse mentions, Emotional Abuse mentions, Parental death mention
Darkness receded and gave way to a dim light. Everything was fuzzy, felt so distant and garbled in the pain-induced haze. It was like a thick substance prevented their body from moving, like they were fighting against molasses. A weight so heavy that Metzli’s body could not rise, and could only shift uncomfortably as the pain rose excruciatingly and their throat felt like it was filled with knives. “Con calma. (Calm down.)” A small voice pleaded. Metzli’s head whipped and they cried out in pain, cutting it short from the knives digging further into their esophagus. Everything hurt so much. How were they still alive? “Me llamo Sylvia. Te encontré caído en el suelo contra…(My name is Sylvia. I found you collapsed next to…)” She trailed off, eyes falling on a pile of ash that looked to have been swept together. “…maestro Eloy. (…Master Eloy.)” She flinched as she said his name, and Metzli understood immediately why she helped, why she looked relieved to be looking at his remains.
“Gracias, Sylvia.” Metzli groaned as they sat up, realizing they were in what used to be Eloy’s bed. Sylvia shuffled to their side and they winced, waiting for an attack. It never came. “No te voy a maltratar. Estoy aliviada que ya no me pueda tocar. (I’m not going to hurt you. I’m relieved he can’t touch me again.)” Silently, Metzli nodded and the dryness of their throat settled in. “¿Cuanto tiempo tengo dormido? (How much time have I been asleep?)” They asked worriedly. Sylvia swallowed thickly and looked concerned. Raising a finger, she shuffled to a table and returned with a bowl of fresh blood. They took it immediately and wolfed it down.
“Hace como seis días. Todos piensan que el maestro Eloy te está torturando aquí. Pero van a sospechar si nos quedamos. (It’s been about six days. Everyone thinks that Master Eloy is torturing you in here. But, they’re going to be suspicious if we stay here.)” Sylvia’s words were barely above a whisper, and Metzli choked on the blood. “¡¿Seis días?!” They inhaled the rest of the blood and tried to rise fully but fell back in agony. “Necesito—celular. ¿Hay un celular?” (I need—cellphone. Is there a cellphone?)” Sylvia nodded and pulled one from the nightstand. It was Eloy’s. Taking the cellphone, Metzli immediately got online and signed into their account. So many messages were popping up and their stomach dropped. The packages were sent. Their friends thought they were dead. With a trembling hand, they dialed for someone, a friend who might be the only one who could get them and this stranger to safety. The trill of the line made them uneasy, made their body tense despite the pain it caused. When a click sounded, they let out a soft gasp and spoke with a rasp, “Bex?”
Bex didn’t know what she expected when she saw the unknown number on her phone screen. She didn’t usually answer those kinds of calls, but something compelled her to answer this one. Maybe it was Mina. Maybe it was someone unknown calling her about Mina. Maybe it was someone who could fix everything that had happened, bring her girlfriend-- her fiancee-- back to her. Or her dead friend, or, fuck, anything about her life just a week ago when it was all going fine. Going great. She wanted that life back. She felt like she was never going to get that life back.
And then she heard Metzli’s voice on the other end of the phone. “M-Metzli?” she didn’t believe it at first, surely she was just imagining things. Hearing their voice because her heart ached and she missed them and she needed something good in her life. “I thought-- you were-- you-- the packages. Metzli, is it--?” she felt tears already welling up in her eyes. Her voice was already cracking. “Is it really you? Please, is it really you, Metzli?”
A choked sob escaped their throat and Metzli nodded their head feverishly despite Bex not being able to see it. “It’s me. I just woke up. I’ve been out for six days.” Their voice became a whimper at the end and they had to cover their mouth to prevent a wail from developing. It hurt so much to speak, but they had to continue. “He’s…” Eyes fell onto the pile of ash and they could feel their body tense just before relaxing again. “I killed him. Nell got away. But he got me and—sorry. Forget it.” There was so much to say but they weren’t sure how much she wanted to hear. She sounded so distraught and that didn’t sit right with them.
“I…I’m stuck here. Is there any way you can summon me back or something? I don’t have any documentation on me and I…” Metzli trailed off, feeling uneasy about asking for help, for a favor when they should be able to help themselves. But at that moment, they knew they were helpless. Bex was probably their only hope of getting back with or without magic.
Bex couldn’t help but let out a sob, clasping her hand over her mouth to keep from being too loud. It was them, it was really them. Metzli was alive. The first good news Bex had had in days. “You killed him? Eloy? He-- he’s dead? You did it?” Words were falling out of her mouth like drabble, water pouring from a cup. “No, no, no. Don’t be sorry, don’t-- it’s okay. You’re alive and that’s all that matters. I-- you’re alive.” She had to sit down immediately, running her hand through her hair. “S-stuck? I-- I don’t know how to do summoning magic and Nell still isn’t back, she got stuck somewhere cause the spell went wrong.”
Bex looked around. She had to do something, she had to get them back here. She had to help them. “I-- is there an airport near you? One that lands private jets?”
“Y-yeah. I did it. I don’t know how, but I did. And this woman,” Metzli glanced up to Sylvia and swallowed thickly. “She helped me. I think she was tired of master—of him.” They almost got angry at themselves, irritated that even at that moment, they couldn’t stop themselves. Anger slipped away at the sound of all of Bex’s sobs. Despite both of their state’s, her voice was the best thing that had happened in days, and it was only a matter of time that they would be together again.
Covering the microphone, they looked at Sylvia. “¿Hay un aeropuerto? ¿Una privada? (Is there an airport? A private one?)” With widened eyes, Sylvia nodded enthusiastically, excited and desperate at the prospect of getting away. “The woman says there is. How soon can it get here? I don’t know how much longer we can pretend Eloy is alive. I also…I’m pretty hurt. The less people on the plane the better.” Metzli was speaking rushedly, scared that they’d be somehow cut off. “God, it feels so good to hear your voice. I miss you so much. I miss everyone so much.”
“You did it,” Bex said, still sobbing, “you did it. You did it. Metzli, you did it. Thank you. Whoever helped you, tell them thank you. Thank you so much.” She wiped at her eyes, tried to stop the sniffling. “I’m sorry. I need to stop-- private. Yes. Private.” She started sifting through stuff in her room, setting the phone down for a moment as she pulled a box from her closet, throwing folders out as she looked for the right one. “Yes, yes, I can--” she scoured through the papers in the folder and found what she was looking for. “Just-- give me a minute. Can I call you back? I need to call someone else.” She hated the idea of it, but she had a way, thanks to her family’s money, thanks to their business. Being big shot lawyers with branches around the country meant they had a private jet on command. She hated the idea of her privilege, but if she could use it to help someone, then she would. She had to. It was the only good use of it.
“I did it.” They joined Bex in her cries, letting their own hot tears stream down their cheeks. Eloy was gone. All they needed to do now was get home. Nodding, they listened as the line clicked to end. A shaky sigh escaped their lips and they rushed to get up. “Necesitamos empezar a irnos. (We need to pack and leave.)” Metzli said with a groan, stumbling on weak legs. Sylvia hooked their arm around her and guided them to the clothes they were wearing before they passed out. “Gracias.” Some of their strength was returning thanks to the blood, but they were nowhere near full strength.
Metzli took the last of the blood Sylvia offered and managed to stand on their own. Their body screamed, begging to be given more, but they had to make the blood be enough. They had to remain in control. Once the pair was ready, they secured their backpack with a wince and settled back on the bed to wait for Bex’s call. The absence of her voice made everything feel so much heavier. Eyes stared intently at the phone, hoping the call came soon.
Bex made the call quickly and of course someone answered right away. All she had to do was give them a name-- Oxendine, it tasted like blood in her mouth-- and they had a jet secured and ready to send wherever and pick up whoever. They gave her the exact time and place and Bex wrote it all down before texting the info to the phone Metzli had called from. Then she dialed and waited for the line to ring. She needed to hear their voice again, to know that it was real. To know she wasn’t making something up in her distressed, sorrowful state. “Metzli?” she said again when the line picked up. “Did you-- I texted you the info. To this number. It’ll be there in a couple of hours, um-- about six. I’m sorry it can’t come sooner, but you can wait at the airport in the lounge. Just give them the name and password I sent you, okay? I-- I’m gonna get you home, I promise. You’re coming home.”
Right after the text came through with all the necessary information, Bex’s call came through and they inhaled a deep breath. “I’m here.” Metzli sounded a little better, no longer having a bitterly dry throat. “I got the information. Thank you. Thank you.” Home. That’s all Metzli wanted. They just wanted to be home. A sob broke through and they had to do their best to cough it away. “I’m so sorry. I’ll be home soon. I’m sorry this happened.” The line was silent for a few moments, only broken to say goodbye and extend their love.
The location Bex sent would take three hours to get to, so the vampires had to get started. “Vámonos. Vas a ir conmigo. Ya no necesitas quedarte aquí. (Let’s go. You’re coming with me. You don’t need to stay here anymore.)” Sylvia shook her head, smiling warmly. “No. No puedo. Necesito ayudar a los vampiros perdidos. Ellos necesitan alguien amable. (No. I can’t. I need to stay for the lost ones. They need someone kind.)” Metzli understood and didn’t fight her on it. With Eloy gone, several vampires would be lost, would need guidance. They gave Sylvia a single nod and let themselves be guided carefully to Eloy’s balcony. “Gracias.” Metzli bowed respectfully and then bound over the second floor to head to the airport.
When the jet finally arrived, Metzli was struggling to not attack, but they held back and gave all the necessary information. They practically bolted into the plane, holding their nose shut to not take in any scent of blood. Body shook from the tension and pain, but they needed to remain calm. They were so close to being home and that brought enough comfort to help their body relax. In a matter of seconds, the meditative state they learned to call sleep took over.
Bex rushed to the car and to the airport because she needed to be there to pick up Metzli. She could’ve called a car for them, but this felt better. She needed to see them. She paced the airport lounge while she waited, she couldn’t sit still. The steward kept asking her if she needed anything, water or a snack or a drink. Bex didn’t have time to stop and say no, but she didn’t say yes, either. She just kept pacing and worrying and running hands through her hair, looking towards the tarmac, waiting. She hated waiting. She was never really impatient, but she hated waiting right now.
Finally, the plane landed and pulled up and Bex leapt from her spot and over to the doors, bouncing in her spot. And the second Metzli was through the door, Bex raced up to them and threw her arms around them tightly and she was already crying, burying herself in the vampire. “I thought you were dead,” she sobbed, “I thought I’d never see you again.”
The moment Bex came into view, Metzli’s eyes cascaded a waterfall of tears and their breath hitched considerably. It felt so surreal to have her in front of them. “I thought I was dead too. I can’t believe you’re real.” Their arms draped around her carefully, tightening as her cries grew louder. All they wanted to do was take her pain away, but they had to settle for paying her kindness with comfort. It didn’t matter that it caused their ribs to shake and tender skin to burn. She was all that mattered, home was what mattered.
As all the smells of people hit them, their grip tightened but they didn’t lose control. Metzli’s throat constricted painfully, but even then, the comfort of being home kept them stable. “Can we go home? I need to eat…and…people are staring.” Their hand gestured to their body and face, all of it painted with Eloy’s final masterpiece. Victory was theirs, and even if it came at such a great cost, it was one they were happy to pay.
“I’m real,” Bex said, exasperated, “I’m real and you’re real and you’re here and you’re not dead and I missed you. I missed you so much.” She missed having something normal. She missed having someone. She missed Mina. She missed Mina so god damn much and she knew she was projecting that ache and loss onto her sorrow over Metzli, but she couldn’t help it. She needed someone, and Morgan was great, of course she was, but Morgan was a mother, she needed a friend. She sniffled and pulled away and wiped at her eyes. “Sorry, sorry, I--” she glanced around as Metzli gestured and she shook her head. “Right, yeah, let’s--” she took Metzli’s hand. “Let’s go.”
She pulled them away from the door, towards the exit where the car was waiting for them. “Here, let me take your stuff,” she opened the trunk and held her hands out for the bag they had. She finally got a look at Metzli, at the condition they were in and she felt tears again. “God, what happened to you…”
Metzli yelped as the backpack slid off of their shoulder, grazing the deep stab wound Eloy had given them. “A lot,” Their gaze averted quickly and they limped themselves towards the passenger side to sit down. They didn’t bother with the seatbelt, it wasn’t necessary. Besides that, lifting their arms already proved too difficult. A ball formed in their throat as they sat inside. Being in Bex’s car felt so heavy yet so freeing. Returning home had taken such precedence that they hadn’t taken the time to fully accept everything that had happened, everything they had experienced. No matter how much they swallowed and choked back their emotions, they demanded to be felt.
Their hand gripped tightly onto their knee and they fell forward, crying into their hand. Metzli wailed and let themselves feel every emotion in between good and bad. “Mast—he chained—” They couldn’t finish. Their voice became consumed by cryful hiccups and soft sobs they attempted to stifle. “I fought. I fought.”
“Sorry, I’m sorry!” Bex said, panicking a moment as she heard Metzli yelp. “Here, here, sit down.” She opened the passenger door and motioned for them to have a seat. She could tell something was welling up inside of them, she could see it in their face. She knew because she felt it, too, stabbing deep inside of her. Emotions that would not hide, that you could not let go of or stuff down. They were screaming to be heard and seen and shown but Bex couldn’t put all her pain on Metzli when they looked like how she felt, and they probably felt the same, too.
They were crumpled over and crying before Bex even stood back up to shut the door. She didn’t know what to say, bending down to kneel and wrap her arms gently around their slumped form. “It’s okay, I know you did, I know. I know you did,” she said, repeating the words because she didn’t know what else to say. “He’s gone. You’re safe. He’s gone. You did it. You’re free.”
After a few long moments, Metzli calmed down enough to speak clearly and look at Bex. Maybe everything wasn’t perfect, but if being home, alive, was as close as they could get, they’d take it. No one, not even Eloy could take their home away. “Thank you for getting me back home. Thank you. I don’t know how I’m ever going to repay you, but I will. I will.” Knowing Bex, they knew she wouldn’t accept, but they had to try anyway. She had given them everything back. Thanks to her, the family they had created didn’t have to lose a member.
The break in between weeps of despair allowed for Bex’s pained visage to become clear. Time was no longer constrained, and Metzli was given the opportunity to feel and consume her energy. She was hurting, and if they thought about it hard enough, they could recall how pained Bex had looked the entire time. Brows furrowed with concern and they sniffled away their distress, “Stuff happened, huh? Let’s—Let’s go. It looks like we both need each other right now.” They gave Bex the biggest smile they could form, which was barely even one to begin with, but it still felt like the biggest lie ever told.
“No, no,” Bex insisted, shaking her head, “you don’t have to pay me back. You don’t. Just-- just having you here alive is thanks enough. Okay?” She stayed where she was until Metzli calmed and she leaned back, sitting on the ledge of the sidewalk and looking up at them. She was exhausted and still worried and wondering, unable to stop any of it. But she could do this, she could be there for them. She swallowed back more tears and nodded, standing up as she shut their door gently and went around to the other side, climbing in. She didn’t turn the car on for a long time.
When Metzli spoke again, she jumped a little, turning to look at them. “No, no, it’s-- I’m okay. I-- let’s just get you home, okay? Just worry about you, right now. I can take you to your place and you can take a nice, warm shower and cuddle Yucca and Milo will be there, and--” Murphy. Bex’s brow furrowed. She still had bruises around her neck from her. “Let’s just go home.” And she started up the car, pulling away from the curb.
“No, I can’t go home like this. I can’t.” Metzli shifted uncomfortably in their seat and ran through all the possibilities in their head. They looked like a literal horror movie in the worst way possible. As much as they wanted to give Milo a giant hug and kiss Yuca’s head, they also didn’t want him to see them in their condition. “Can I—is there any way I can get cleaned up at your place first? Hell, I might need a doctor. I just don’t—I can’t. Not right now. I’ll tell Milo I’m back. I just can’t see him immediately.” It was difficult, but they swallowed their tears and prevented any more from falling for now.
When the car began to move, that’s when it really dawned on them that they were free, that they could finally relax. But then Metzli found that they couldn’t, not fully, when the bruising around Bex’s neck registered. For a brief moment, as they searched for answers, they could smell Murphy’s faint scent on their best friend. A low growl vibrated from their chest, but they kept their composure. “You’ll tell me about who did that to your neck once I’m a little more healed. I’ll take care of that when I’m able to.” Their head fell back onto the headrest and they sighed as their hand extended slowly to Bex. It was a silent request for comfort, to hold their hand as they rested their eyes if she accepted. Cuts, bites, and bruises covered their hand, and even if it hurt to have pressure on the tender skin, they wanted it to be held. They wanted the physical comfort so badly, but didn’t forget the boundaries set before. Even then, they wouldn’t break them.
“I--” Bex started, but stopped herself. She knew Morgan didn’t like Metzli, not very much, and she didn’t think the woman would take well to Bex inviting them into her home. But she didn’t know if she could tell them no. She didn’t know what she was supposed to do. “I have a place we can go.” And it wasn’t anywhere she thought she’d ever return, or ever take Metzli, of all people, but she didn’t know where else to go. It was secluded and it had a functioning shower, plus a bed. Bex turned off the road that led into town and instead headed to the road that led to the ferry. She looked over when the car was parked and noticed Metzli’s hand held out for hers. She could see the cuts and bruises on it and worried she might hurt them, but she gently moved her hand over and grabbed theirs, not squeezing but closing her fingers just enough to let them know she was there. She wasn’t going anywhere.
Her mind drifted back to Mina for a moment and she wondered if she was still at the cabin. She’d texted her each day to remind her to soak for at least a few hours-- she wasn’t going to let Mina destroy herself because of this. She wasn’t. She blinked at the sound of Metzli’s voice and she glanced over, having forgotten about the bruises. “It’s-- they’re nothing. It’s okay. Don’t worry about that.” She wasn’t going to come between them like that. She had more important things to worry about. The ferry docked and she started up the car again, before turning down the private road that led back to the manor. Iron gates opened before them and she pulled up to the large front doors, stopping. “We’re here,” she said, glancing over at them. “Do-- do you need help getting out?”
Metzli’s eyes were half-lidded, but they weren’t asleep, they couldn’t. “They’re not nothing. I can smell—never mind.” They groaned and noticed they were at a manor. “Never been here before. What is this place? And…thanks. I just didn’t want Milo to see me like this. I want to heal a little first.” Their free hand reached for the door but they found that they struggled to squeeze it shut for a few moments. Everything began to grow stiff and they whimpered in fear. They needed to hunt, soon. “I can do it. I can.” With a strained and grated sigh, the door finally opened and they let go of Bex’s hand and stumbled out of the vehicle.
“I just want to lay down, okay?” Metzli turned to look at Bex while she was still seated inside. Their eyes were soft and hopeful. “I can smell a few animals nearby, not even a quarter mile away, so I can hunt after I get patched up.” Limping to the door, they stood outside of it, and waited to be invited in. Though they felt happy to be back, exhaustion took over their body and they swayed about. The wall did well to keep them upright for the time being and they smile softly at Bex. She hadn’t stopped looking worried since they arrived. “You can stop looking at me like I’m gonna keel over. I’m alive. And—and you don’t even have to patch me up. I’ll do it myself if you can get me the materials. I don’t want you to see.”
“Please don’t worry about it right now,” Bex insisted quietly, watching them slide out of the car. She looked at them worriedly as they let go of her hand, then she glanced back at the entrance to the orante, large manor stretching out behind it. She hadn’t been back here since her mother’s funeral and she swallowed. “It’s my family home,” she said simply, looking over at Metzli again, “the Oxendine manor.” She opened the door on her side and climbed out stiffly, shutting the door and grabbing Metzli’s bag from the back, shouldering it.
“I, um-- I actually have some animal blood, if you want some. In the trunk. Milo-- Milo needed blood so I had Morgan pick some up on her next visit, too, just in case.” She went over to the trunk and opened it, grabbing one of the containers she’d stuffed under the wheel well and holding it out. She didn’t want to worry Metzli more with news of Milo’s supply being cut off, so she left it at that. She unlocked the front door and swung it open, listening to it groan with age. “You can come in. And of course I’m going to patch you up, idiot. I’m not going to make you do that yourself. And I kind of--” she paused, her eyes growing misty again-- “I kind of need this, too. Please. Just...I need to feel useful.” Since Mina wouldn’t even let Bex be in the same room as her, let alone patch her up or help her. She wiped the tears on the back of her hand. “Please.”
“Oh—but—” They left it alone. There was so much they missed, and it would be a while before they’d get all the information, before they could know what was happening. Rushing it wouldn’t do any good. Besides that, their focus drifted elsewhere. To the blood Bex was carrying. It made their throat constrict and they had to bite their hand firmly to prevent them from attacking the bag she held. Their instincts receded the moment that she called them an affectionate name. “Idiot? You’re the idiot. Trying to patch up a hungry vampire.” A small smile formed along with a chuckle and they managed to let go of their hand, which began to drip black blood as they stepped into the manor and looked at Bex with gentle and concerned eyes.
Bex sounded defeated and the way she pleaded pulled at their chest. It was impossible to reject her offer without it going wrong. “O-okay. Yeah. You can. You can. Um—do you have a sports bra or something? I’m not wearing anything underneath because of everything that happened and master had a lot of fun...” Eyes fell to the ground, knowing they had just rambled, and they slowly walked to the couch to sit down for a moment. A contented sigh spilled out at just how comfortable it was, helping their muscles slacken. Tears pooled once more, feeling absolutely free from Eloy’s grasp. “Fuck. I can’t believe it’s finally over.”
“That’s why I offered the blood,” Bex pointed out, holding it out to them after she shut the doors and came into the foyer. She looked at their face a little more clearly now, under the light of the chandelier in the entrance, and it was full of bruises and cuts and crusted blood. It made her heart ache again and she took the hand they’d bitten down on, pulling a cloth from her pocket and wiping away the black blood that began to ooze. “I’m not worried about that. If you need blood, human blood…” she didn’t say the words, though she knew Metzli knew what she meant. She’d done it once before, and she’d do it again. Anything for a friend.
“Um, probably somewhere,” she said, standing back up and looking towards the staircase. “Do-- do you want to shower first? I can show you to the bathroom and get you some spare clothes while you do that.” She swallowed, trying not to think about the cruelty that Metzli must’ve endured and trying not to think about the cruelty Bex had endured inside these very walls. Or the blood stain that was still at the bottom of the stairs where her mother had fallen limp and dead. She concentrated back on Metzli. “It’s over,” she repeated, “it’s really over.” She held her hand back out. “C’mon, let’s go upstairs. I promise it’s much nicer up there.”
“Are you trying to say I smell?” Metzli attempted to joke, hoping Bex would take the bait and continue the light conversation. It was the most normal they had felt in over a week, and they didn’t want to let it go. They took the blood happily along with her hand, finding so much comfort in it even as they struggled to rise from the couch. Biting into the blood pack sated their need to eat for the time being, and helped alleviate the constriction in their throat. It made it easier to hold her hand and not think about biting her. The last thing they wanted to do was bite Bex, even if she was okay with it. “A shower would be nice. Anywhere is nicer than where I was. I was chained up, and trust me, I give it maybe one star.” It was a poor attempt at a joke, but a joke nonetheless.
The energy in the room felt heavier with their comment, and even heavier as Metzli could smell the old blood that had developed over the years. It saddened them to know that this was possibly a torture ground for their friend. Oxendine Manor. It had to be difficult, and the fact that she was willing to bring them to the place she probably hated the most made them feel a little sick, even if it meant that she truly cared about them. “I’ll probably look better after a shower. Just promise you won’t freak out once you see what’s underneath.” Their voice was a shaky mess with groans of pain littered in it as the stairs put a strain on their body. They had never been so happy to have been able to consume animal blood. It aided their muscle’s repair and kept them from falling apart.
“Yes, absolutely,” Bex said smoothly, even if her voice was still quiet and stuttering. She glanced over at them as they sucked down the blood, hoping it was enough for now. She knew they didn’t want to drink her blood, even if offered, but if it was an emergency, they didn’t really have a choice. Bex didn’t mind. As they came up to her old bedroom, she paused a moment, staring at the slightly ajar door. She hadn’t gone into her room when she was last here, she didn’t remember what state it was in aside from derelict and full of boxes. She pushed on the door after a moment. “I think I’d rate it negative stars, if it were me,” she said back. The room inside was what she’d imagined it might be. The closet was mostly stripped empty, save for a few pieces, the dresser left open, boxes around the bed and on the floor. She moved one out of the way and pointed towards a door in the back corner.
“The bathroom is through there. There’s a tub and a shower, so go for whichever you want. Um--” she spun in her spot a little, digging through one of the boxes. “I don’t have any sweats here, but I’ve got some shorts and a t-shirt if that’s okay?” She turned to face Metzli again, holding the clothes up. “I won’t, I promise. I just want to help.”
“If you’re here, then it’s automatically five stars.” With a single nod and smile, they headed towards the bathroom and turned to Bex before heading in. “I’ll just cover my chest when I’m done if that’s okay with you. There’s a few open wounds.” Metzli took the clothes and closed the door, turning the water on quickly and removing their ripped garments to hop inside. The hot water soothed every wound and every tense muscle, making them feel relaxed in a way they didn’t expect. Being alert and ready for an attack was no longer necessary. All they had to do was let go and let their friend take care of them.
When they finally came back out of the bathroom, the clothes were tight around their body, a little too small for their frame. But it felt good to finally be clean, to wash away most of what Eloy painted on their skin. Wounds already began to bleed through the clothes, darkening them as they walked about. “I think I might need stitches.” They muttered. “Um…master—I mean—Eloy got a little knife happy. A little deep.” Metzli couldn’t lock eyes with Bex, and they settled for holding her hand once more so she could guide them to the appropriate spot. The bruising was a little more visible now that they washed away the grime on their body, and even they had grimaced during the quick glance in the bathroom mirror. “Thank you. I’m really glad I’m home.” Their words were a little muttered and hollow, finding it difficult to fight through the pain they felt on a level that transcended physical. “Where do you want me to be, Dr. Bex? You’re the boss right now.”
Bex set about organizing the room a bit as she waited for Metzli to finish showering. Her nerves were beginning to return now that she was alone in her bedroom. No, her old bedroom. This was not her home, and it was, arguably, never actually her home anyway. She stacked most of the boxes in the corner and came back to the closet, shuffling through the clothes that were still hanging in it, just old dresses and blouses that she didn’t have much attachment to because her mother had picked them for her. She went back downstairs for a moment and searched through the supplies in the kitchen for the big first-aid kit and the sutures, before coming back upstairs and setting up stuff on the bed.
When Metzli came out of the bathroom, she perked up, trying to forget about the dark thoughts that were trying to crowd her mind being back here. But her face fell when she saw all the wounds on them, and it reminded her of all the times she’d look in the mirror and see nothing but bruises and swollen eyes. She remembered all the times Mina came home looking battered, and she remembered all the times she’d seen Metzli torn up. “Just...over here is fine,” she said, motioning to the bed. She started gathering up the supplies she’d need, taking stock. “There’s uh-- pain meds, if you want them. I don’t know if they work for you, but they’re there if you want them.”
“They probably won’t work,” Metzli stated a little dejectedly. “Pain meds don’t usually take. But if you can get the wounds sealed up, that would…help a lot.” They gave her a smile, and even if it was weak in comparison to what they gave her before, it was better than nothing. It was better than giving into the gravity of the situation before them. They took careful steps and slowly got to the bed, letting out a soft groan they sat down. The bed gave a generous reprieve to their muscles and they settled into the soft surface, removing their shirt strategically while covering their chest.
A slew of contusions and lacerations were presented to Bex so she could do what she needed as they did their best to accommodate. “If you can seal everything up quickly, I’ll be forever grateful. I just don’t want my people to be sad.” They shrugged with a soft groan and closed their eyes as they slowly laid back. “And just so you know, those people include you.” Another smile tugged at their lips half heartedly, trying their best to latch onto any lightness in the room. They thought maybe they had tried to smile too much given the circumstances, but they couldn’t help wanting to alleviate what pressure they could. It was helping them hold on, helping them keep their inner beast at bay as it rattled within them. It wanted to be sated, but Metzli wouldn't allow it. Even as they laid there without much blood in their system, they kept their composure, holding onto everything Bex meant to them. “Are you doing okay?”
Bex nodded and set to work, carefully weaving the suture into the deepest cuts first. It was a scary thought to realize that she was so good at this now simply because she’d done it so much. It was out of necessity that Bex had developed this skill, and the thought alone made her heart clench. Her friends were hurt so often and she still couldn’t do anything to help them, to keep them safe. She couldn’t even keep herself safe. She thought about the Torple and how Cassidy had gotten hurt helping her, and Toni. And she thought about how many times Metzli had gotten hurt for her and all the times Mina had, too. She pushed the thought away and concentrated, moving on to another open wound.
“Just hold still, I’m almost done,” she said, grabbing some gauze patches and covering up the worst of the cuts once they were stitched back together. She finished up as quickly as she could without causing too much discomfort, before she sat back up and let out a long breath. “I’m okay,” she answered and began cleaning up the supplies and the bloody clothes she’d used to clean the wounds. “Just lay down and try and rest, okay?”
Metzli only shook lightly and whimpered a handful of times. Nothing would be as painful as being in Eloy’s grasp, and nothing would be as comforting as having their friend take care of them. Bex was even better than the last time she patched them up, and that worried them a little, but the feeling quickly numbed itself. She had to have patched up too many of her friends by now, and if they had a soul to feel deep enough with, they would be saddened by that. “Thanks, Bex. Really. Thank you.” They turned to cover their torso with the shirt, and then immediately sank into the bed to lay back fully.
Anxiety pricked their skin, and they inhaled deeply to calm it. But the anxiety demanded to be felt, growing even harsher as Bex appeared like she might possibly leave the room. “Wait!” Metzli called out worriedly, sitting up too quickly and hurting themselves. It was like a child begged, and they looked down at their hands. Embarrassment washed over them, but they pushed it away, trying to be unashamed for asking for one more thing. Something they decided they’d stop being ashamed to ask for as they flew back home. “Can you stay? L-lay with me? I don’t…I don’t want to be alone.” Eyes pleaded desperately, but they also apologized for such a heavy request. “You don’t have to. You can just stay in the room. I just don’t want to be…alone.” Tears welled in their eyes and they hastily brushed them away, looking down, waiting to be scolded for asking for too much. That wasn’t Bex’s nature, but it was the mindset they couldn’t break free from yet.
“Of course,” Bex said, giving a gentle smile, or what could maybe pass for one in the dim light of the room. She turned to toss the bandages into one of the trash boxes when Metzli called out and she paused, looking back at them. They looked scared and small, laying on the bed, covered in bandages with half-lidded eyes they could barely keep open. Vampires didn’t even sleep and she could tell they were tired beyond a physical ache. She let out a breath and nodded. “I’ll stay,” she said, setting the trash down and making her way back over. Admittedly, she hadn’t wanted to leave, either. She needed someone, too. She wouldn’t say it, but she did. She missed being held, she missed being with Mina. She missed her life where things were easy and she could be happy. She didn’t get that life anymore, not after everything that had happened.
She crawled onto the bed and laid herself down gently next to Metzli, making sure she didn’t disturb them and injure them on accident. Turning onto her side, she moved as close as she could without hurting them. “I’m so glad you’re back,” she muttered, “I missed you.”
#wickedswriting#keep you right here#bex and metzli#domestic abuse tw#emotional abuse tw#parental death tw
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A Safe Place || Bex & Metzli
TIMING: Current
PARTIES: @INBEXTWEEN @DEATHISANARTMETZLI
SUMMARY: Bex needed somewhere to go, and Metzli’s door was open.
CONTAINS: Domestic abuse mentions, internalized transphobia
Bex was halfway home when she realized she didn’t want to go home. She was a mess. Bloody palm, teeth scrapes on her neck, covered in dirt. Mina would hear her come in and even if they weren’t talking, she was sure she’d hear the slow footsteps up the stairs and down the hall, and maybe even see the dirt caked on her skin or the blood on her clothes. At least it wasn’t her still broken hand. Small favors, she supposed. And she was exhausted beyond belief. The way her heart beat in her chest made it hard to breathe, and she’d had to stop more than once to sit on a bench and catch her breath. It burned, but she just supposed it was how much magic she’d used. Too much. She could feel that. She’d used too much again. She needed to stop doing that, but she couldn’t seem to help it. Her anger was consuming her, egged on by the nightmares that plagued her sleep-- of her mother, of her death, of everything they’d done to her. She scraped the back of her hand across her eyes and stood back up, glancing around. She had nowhere to go. She had one place to go.
Bex was standing outside Metzli’s apartment complex before she realized she’d started walking there. She looked up, then glanced around, before pushing the door open and making her way up the stairs. Down the hallway, a door opened and Metzli popped out, a look of concern on their face. Bex stopped, waved. “Can I um-- can I come in?”
Bex’s scent pooled through the open balcony door. Yuca was lounging, enjoying the night air as Metzli sat at their gaming desk, shooting at rookie nerds. Their spine straightened as the scent grew stronger. It was a mixture of blood and dirt, forcing their focus away from the game, and rushing to the door. She was already down the hallway when their door opened to reveal a very disheveled Bex. “Y-yeah. Come in.” They stood aside and Yuca ran up to their legs, rubbing against Bex as they shut the door. “Go ahead and sit on the couch. I’ll go get you some clothes.”
Metzli shuffled to their room, opening their casual-wear drawers and pulling out a large hoodie and some shorts. Making a stop at the bathroom, they grabbed a first aid kid and a wet cloth before kneeling beside Bex on the couch and placing the clothes on the coffee table. “What happened?” Voice was soft and careful, raising the wet cloth to her face and pausing before they began to wipe away residual dirt and blood. It smelled good, but not good enough to pull them away from the severity of the situation. The bite marks made them want to growl, be angry that someone would do that. But they had no right. “You don’t have to tell me. I’m just...I’m glad you’re alive at least.”
Bex walked in behind them silently, holding her arms against her body and trying to calm her erratic heart beat. She was just still wired from the encounter, that was all. Adrenaline was obviously still pumping through her, otherwise she was sure she would’ve passed out by now. She looked at Metzli’s couch and remembered sitting on it just a week ago and feeling happy. For a split second, she had been so happy. She blinked and glanced off towards the door Metzli had disappeared behind, but didn’t sit yet. “I don’t wanna...get blood all over your couch,” she muttered, but her legs argued otherwise. She sat on the edge of it, holding herself still, hoping she wasn’t getting too much mess on their couch. Yuca was rubbing at her legs but she didn’t reach down to pet her.
“Um…” she started, paused, trying not to flinch as Metzli dabbed a wet rag on her dirty face. Was their blood on her face? She wasn’t sure. “A lot.” Now that she was sitting and could relax, she realized she was still pretty drunk. The world was tilting back and forth behind Metzli. “It’s kinda a long story…” she held out her bleeding palm, still slick with fresh blood. “We ended up in the woods and I scraped my hand and there were these giant, like, bull creatures and they were chasing us and I had to use magic to get away, but Milo was, like, I don’t know. He just jumped at me and tried to bite me and it’s my fault, really. I’m the one that led us out there and I think I fell and scraped my hand and that’s why I’m bleeding. But I ran when he tried to bite me and I-- Left him there! What if something happened to him? I have to go back and get him,” she suddenly insisted, trying to stand.
Anger bubbled and created a heat in Metzli’s chest, but they kept their composure. “No, Bex. You’re in no condition to go back out there.” Their hands hovered over Bex and then gently pushed her back down. They didn’t want to scare her or make her angry. The last few times they’d done so, they were met with a painful outcome. “Milo can take care of himself, but if you want me to go out there, I’ll go.” Sincerity showed in their eyes and they lifted Bex’s hand back up to clean her palm. Most of the dirt and blood had been cleaned off, so they took out the alcohol and bandages to patch her up.
“It sounds like you ran into biesy, though. And none of this is your fault. Knowing Milo, he was probably all in.” Metzli said with their brows creased together in unrelenting concern. Had she even forgiven them? Is that why she was comfortable being there? They held that uneasiness in their mind until that desire for absolution became a wish. But wishes couldn’t be granted, and they were prepared to wait until Bex showed up at their door.
Metzli wrapped a bandage around Bex’s hand and used butterfly bandaids for her smaller cuts. “I’m surprised you came here. But I guess you didn’t want Mina to see you like this. And find out your other vampire friend wanted a taste. Why did he anyway? That’s not...that’s not like him.” There was a place reserved for Milo in their concern, but in witnessing Bex’s condition, he was put further back for the time being.
“No, it is, it is my fault,” Bex argued, no struggling at all when Metzli pushed her back down to the couch. She looked at them with wide, worried eyes, red-shot and welling with tears. “I stormed off and he just followed me, we were just having a nice time in the cemetery and I got so mad, I wanted to-- to find Roy. I wanted to yell at him. I just wanted to make my anger go away. It’s my fault, really.” And it was, and she believed that, and she needed someone else to blame her, too. Did Milo blame her? She hoped he did. She looked back down as Metzli started bandaging the cuts, and Bex thought about all the injuries her body had incurred. She was so careless with herself, with her body. She knew it was partially out of shame but more and more she realized it was out of punishment. She was punishing herself. She didn’t know how to stop.
“Yes! Yes, those-- the things with the third eye. You told me not to look at it and I didn’t. I-- I wanted to, but I didn’t. But it was trying to kill us and then more showed up and I didn’t know what to do.” Her body began to shake, something she couldn’t seem to control in her state. Exhausted and drunk and panicking. Her brows knit together.
“I didn’t know where else to go,” she answered quietly, the painful truth. “I...had nowhere else to go.” She looked down at her bandaged palm. “I was bleeding. He probably just-- he was just as panicked and scared as me. It was probably just overwhelming.” The scent of her blood. Metzli had said her blood was rare, that it probably smelled really good to other vampires. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know where else to go.”
Fists clenched tightly at the sound of Roy’s name. Even when he wasn’t actively hurting her, he had an effect on Bex. “No, Bex. No more blaming yourself. Let’s be done with that. At least for tonight. Just be happy you have a friend that cares enough to go after you.” Metzli gave her a reassuring smile and sat next to her on the couch. Her heart was still racing incredibly fast, way too fast for someone who had been resting on the couch. Before they could mention something about it, the topic of the biesy caught their attention for a little longer.
“Yeah, that’s the thrall. And they usually are in packs. I’m just glad you made it here.” As Bex began to tremble, Metzli scooted closer and outstretched a hand for her to take. Letting her have the option to accept or deny their offer. Her heart echoed in their mind more, rapid and too erratic. “Bex, how does your chest feel?” They blurted out, dismissing everything else she had said. The fear of something else being wrong outweighed everything else. “You can always come here. I have a guest bedroom. But, seriously. Your heart hasn’t calmed down at all and it’s uneven. Do you need water?”
Bex looked down at Metzli’s outstretched hand, watched them scooting closer. She shied away, curling her arms back around herself. It was her fault, she didn’t deserve this kindness. Someone needed to show Milo this kindness, not her. She wasn’t worth it. “Yeah…” she murmured, swallowing thickly and finding her throat tight again. She wasn’t sure she deserved Milo’s friendship, especially not after what happened tonight.
She looked over at Metzli, confused. “My--” then she remembered, through her drunk haze, that vampires had super hearing. Metzli could hear her heart and how strangely it was beating. “Oh. No, it-- I’m fine.” She was just still anxious, that was all. “Water...yeah. Maybe, that-- that’s probably a good idea, water.” She couldn’t remember the last time she’d drank water. Or eaten. The days were all blurring into one and she knew she needed to do something about it but she couldn’t bring herself to, when the weight in her chest felt as if it were dragging her down. “I, um-- thank you. For…” all of it, she supposed, “just thank you.”
Nodding, Metzli went to grab a glass of water and grabbed hummus and pita chips they had purchased for the movie night. “You don’t have to thank me. What are friends for?” They smiled warmly and placed the food on the table while handing the glass over to Bex. “Hopefully that helps. But seriously. It’s like palpitations. You might wanna get that checked out.” Being worried was extremely uncommon, and very strange for them, but it was something they were beginning to get used to when it came to Bex.
They wanted to try again, try reaching out for her hand and comfort her, but she had shied away once already. Pressing her wouldn’t do any good. “Good thing I don’t sleep, huh? Oh, do you wanna change? I brought out these clothes for you. They might be a little big but super comfy.” With a sigh, Metzli turned their head from the lack of light from the monitor. Groaning, they walked over and shut everything off before going back to the couch.
“You can even shower if you want. I have lots of extra stuff in the guest bathroom.”
Bex gave what she hoped was a smile, prickling at her face like a crack. “Yeah,” she mumbled, taking the glass of water and drinking a good bit of it. It certainly helped make her throat feel less like it was closing up, and she inhaled deeply, holding it a moment. “It’s fine, it’s been doing this a while,” she explained, and she wasn’t sure that was relieving to hear or not, but it was fine. It had to be. Of course it was fine. Her chest was fine and so was her heart, she just needed sleep, actual sleep. When was the last time she’d actually slept well? She had no idea. She couldn’t remember.
She watched Metzli groan and walk over to their computer, shutting it down, and felt a spike of guilt. “I-- I’m sorry. Did I interrupt? You don’t have to stop. I can just-- I can go. Or go somewhere else. I’m quiet, I won’t bother you. I’m good at being unnoticed.” She looked at the clothes Metzli had brought out for her and reached out, pausing. “I--” she didn’t know what to say. She didn’t want to leave or go home. She curled her fingers into the cloth of the hoodie. “Can I stay here?” she asked suddenly. ���For the night? I-- I don’t want to go home.”
Head tilted in confusion, not knowing why Bex would ever think she could interrupt anything. “What? No. Destroying teenagers at that game gets boring. And…” Metzli slapped their hand to their face. “Bex, that sounded so sad. But, same.” They laughed and realized they were still in their business casual clothes from their earlier trip. As they walked to their room again, to change, they spoke from within its walls. “Yeah, you can stay here. Guest bedroom is down the hallway behind the couch. Along with the bathroom.”
When they came out, they sported attire most didn’t get to see them in. In fact, not even their one night stands got to. They wore a hoodie crop top and shorts, typical night clothes when they were home. Suits were a staple they adored, but hoodies always made them feel so comfortable when they were lounging about. “Be honored. You’d be the first guest. I don’t even bring ladies here.”
“I--” Bex started, then stopped. “It’s not sad, that’s just-- the way I grew up. Being small was safe. It still feels safe…” She watched Metzli again, the world slowing down around her, as they headed into their bedroom. The door was closed, but she still turned her gaze away, knowing they were changing. Instead, she fiddled with the clean clothes Metzli had gotten for her, holding up the hoodie and already knowing she was going to be swimming in it. Somehow, that made her feel...comforted. She loved wearing Mina’s hoodies, they were usually just the right size for her, too. This felt different. She almost wanted to tug it on overtop her bloody blouse, but looked up, instead, when Metzli came back out.
Bex almost immediately blushed. She was stuck staring, unable to control most of her actions thanks to the alcohol still in her system. “You-- oh. That’s-- you’re-- nice. That’s nice. You’re nice,” she stuttered, her voice raising in octave. She coughed, cleared her throat. “For letting me stay here. You’re nice for--I’m gonna--” she pointed towards the bathroom, hopped up from the couch, a little too quickly, and the world spun, and she toppled over the coffee table towards the floor.
In a flash, Metzli reached out and caught Bex before she could land on the floor. “Swooning over my good looks so much that you’re falling? Damn Bex. Contain yourself.” It was a pitiful attempt at a joke when their voice was clearly shaky and concerned. A chuckle was just as trembled, pulling Bex up and helping her to the bathroom. “I’ve got ya, don’t worry.”
The door opened slowly and the light flicked on, revealing a magazine perfect bathroom that had clearly gone unused. “Clothes are on the counter,” Metzli ushered her in and kept a hold of her until she reached the counter. “Keep the door open. I’ll stay turned around, don’t worry.” They swiveled their body to face away and waited patiently. “So…you think I look nice?” A laugh escaped, trying to keep the energy light.
Bex stumbled into Metzli’s arms and clung to them, closing her eyes as the world started spinning again. “I’m okay! I’m okay. I just-- drank too much. I think.” She didn’t move for a moment-- Metzli’s skin was cold, their grip strong, and it felt nice against her over-worked, flushed body. Her cheeks flushed even more so. “I-- no! That wasn’t because-- I mean it’s not that I-- it was the alcohol,” she stuttered, swallowing. She righted herself quickly, still holding onto them as the helped her down the hallway to the bathroom, stumbling inside to the counter.
She turned to look back at them, eyes wide, suddenly nervous. Her heart stammered. “No! No, close the door. I’ll be fine. Just-- close the door.” Her entire body stiffened as she held herself up on the counter. “Please.” Even if they didn’t turn to look, the embarrassment-- no, the shame-- Bex felt about her body wouldn’t let her move until the door was closed. She looked at them with pleading eyes. “I’ll be okay, I promise.” Then, quieter, “you do look nice.”
The sound of Bex’s heart and her scared voice mixed together made Metzli jump and turn back around. Eyes met briefly before they shut the door. “Sorry, Bex. I just—I was just trying to be safe. I’ll wait out here.” With a sigh, they waited patiently outside the door. Bex’s heart was still running rampant, making them worry more. This love that they felt for her felt like such a weakness due to its innate vulnerability. But as they stood there, caring for Bex and bringing themselves to be there for her, it felt more like it was okay to be vulnerable. Love was a currency that worked best in reverse. And the only way to be wealthy with it, was to give more of it. The two had shared very sensitive moments, and it was with great fortune that the two were able to do that.
“I’m gonna wait on the couch. Give you more privacy, okay?” Metzli figured with them standing there, Bex may still feel self-conscious. Especially if she had to go to the bathroom. Steps receded away from the door and made it to the coffee table where they picked up the glass to refill. Yuca was lounging on her little couch. Her body rose and fell deeply as she slept, and they held onto the smile as they refilled the cup and settled back onto the couch. Regardless of the circumstances that brought Bex over, Metzli was just happy to see her again.
Bex waited until she heard Metzli’s footsteps stop before she began pulling her shirt off stiffly. Her arms burned still, with the exhaustion the magic had taken from her. She sighed, setting it on the sink and looking into the mirror. The scars that Kyle had given, what felt like so long ago now, still stood out against her pale skin. She ran her fingers over them, feeling the soft, scarred flesh that had healed there. She was only alive because of Nell. The burn scars over her heart, from when Frank had electrocuted her. Again, she was only here because of Nell. She owed so much to other people. Who did she owe for being alive tonight?
She turned on the shower before pulling the rest of her dirty clothes off and stepping into the hot water. It burned, but in that relaxing way, that made her muscles unclench and her shoulders relax. It stung a little against the cuts, but she didn’t mind. Pain was a reminder she was alive. And she wanted to be alive. There were people who needed her alive.
She didn’t stay in too long, throwing on the hoodie and shorts Metzli had gotten for her and glancing one last time at herself in the mirror. The bags under her eyes were more visible, now, without all the dirt caked on her face. She looked...like nothing had even happened tonight. Silently, she opened the door and made her way out to the living room where she found Metzli on the couch.
Without really saying much, she climbed onto the couch next to them, and lowered herself, setting her head on the side of Metzli’s lap. “Thank you,” she murmured.
Metzli stiffened, unsure what to do. After a second of contemplation, they looked down at Bex and nodded. “Any time.” They gave her a wry smile and looked at her in their clothes. “Those really do wear you. You sure they’re comfy? I can try to find something else. Maybe something more your size.” Bex’s comfort felt important after the night she had. Even if they couldn’t erase it, even if they couldn’t fix it, they wanted to at least make it easier. She looked tired, so tired and beaten down. From the night and from all the stressors pulling her at the seams.
A hand lifted up, moving a stray strand of hair covering Bex’s face before abruptly recoiling. They wanted to soothe her, brush her hair with their hands, but that wasn’t their place. “Sorry. I don’t know how to do this. Um, what do you want me to do? Or, what do you want to do?” Metzli asked, a little worried there might be repercussions for their invasion of space.
Shoulders fell and they looked away, letting their eyes fall onto Yuca. Eyes remained there, as their arm moved to the backrest of the couch and their other hand tapped on the armrest. Bite marks littered their hips and neck, but they were long forgotten since they were usually covered up with form fitting suits. They hadn’t expected the company to visit, let alone see them in the more revealing clothes they reserved for lounging purposes only.
“They’re fine,” Bex answered, curled up on her side. She was staring at the empty TV screen across from them, wishing none of this had happened. If they’d never made that promise, Bex never would have gone out with Milo tonight, and she never would have had to use so much magic, and she never would have had to see Milo lunge for her throat. She closed her eyes. Shivered when Metzli brushed some hair from her face, remembering how gentle Mina always was when she did the same thing. She missed her touch. She missed being touched by her. “Can we just...stay here?” she asked quietly, not moving. “Just for a bit.” She didn’t want to move anymore.
Silence descended, except for Yuca’s little engine like purrs. They were oddly relaxing, and after a bit, Bex shifted, laying her head further on their lap. “Why do you have bite marks?” she asked, finally breaking the quiet.
“Yeah, we can stay here.” Metzli said with a soft voice. Pulling out this phone, they connected to their Google Homes around their apartment. Gentle piano played through the speakers, quietly and soothing. “Do you want me to, uh, play with your hair? I’ve seen it done in movies and stuff. But I can just be quiet. And you can fall asleep on the couch...” Their breath hitched as her head got further on their lap. It was nerve wracking but also soothing to know she was beginning to trust them again. A hand reached forward to brush her hair, but stopped midway. Comforting wasn’t something they were sure how to do.
With the silence broken and her question asked, Metzli laughed and lifted their hoodie more to touch the bite marks. There were three total on their abdomen, and many more were on their neck and legs. “Oh. Right. Uh, Macleod. She uh…she likes to be a little rough. We’ve become some fuck buddies of sorts. And with her unable to feel as much…yeah.” They couldn’t help but cover their face, a little embarrassed.
“Don’t worry, though. I’m still very much available.”
Bex shook her head gently. “This is okay,” she mumbled. She curled her hands up against her chest, the hoodie sleeves covering them up to her finger tips. It was warm and soft, but it had no smell. Not like the way Mina’s always smelled of fresh dew and vanilla. She supposed that maybe it was unfair of her to lay on them without letting them reciprocate any affection, but she just wanted to feel close to someone. To something solid. Someone solid. She wasn’t sure being touched would go over as well as she wanted it to, even if she missed it. Even if she craved it.
Bex turned her head enough to look up at Metzli. She was still quite drunk and she blinked away the spinning ceiling behind Metzli’s head. “I know what fuck buddies means,” was what she said, her voice sounding as if it were coming from a different source in her own head, “and you wish.” She turned to rest her head back on their leg, closing her eyes. She wrapped her good hand around their leg. “Maybe in another life,” she mumbled absently, “though I did promise Mina I’d love her in our next life.”
“Yeah, I know you know.” Metzli waved vaguely at the air and rolled their eyes. It laid gently on Bex’s head, stroking her hair before they came to their senses and jutted their hand away. “S-Sorry. I got distracted.” Arms went back to their respective resting places. Worry took over their mind that they went too far. She didn’t want to be touched and their heart wanted to do nothing more than give her the affection that helped them. But what makes them feel better didn’t help everyone. “Idiot. Think before you act!” Their mind yelled at them, so they occupied themselves by turning off the music and turning on the tv with their phone. The tv came to life, playing One Day at a Time.
“Now you wish, Bex. I’m very picky. Maybe you’re not even my type. And I’m sure you’ll have her in the next life. Connections like yours have a way of breaking through lifetimes. Cute shit, really.” Metzli laid their head back and closed their eyes. Sleep would not overtake them, but it was nice to keep the light out. It was nice to feel the pressure of Bex’s head on their lap and her embrace around their leg. “Do you feel okay? Like, safe?” The question surprised them, meaning to only keep it within their mind. But they truly wanted to know if they were doing okay at being Bex’s friend.
Bex scoffed. “I’m so your type,” she said. She didn’t know if that was true, but she knew it would make Metzli squirm. She hadn’t moved when they absently stroked her hair, and she found that, maybe, she didn’t mind it as much as she thought she might. She didn’t know if that was good or bad, though. Up until now, the only person she’d let touch her like this was Mina, and occasionally Morgan. She didn’t look back at Metzli, but shifted her head just a little. “You can...keep doing that.” She just wanted to feel comfortable for the night. For one night. She just wanted to sleep. She didn’t think she’d really be able to sleep.
Bex nodded. She did feel safe here. Her mind had brought her here without even thinking when she’d felt she had nowhere else to go, so it had to mean something, right? She drew in a breath and let it out slowly. “I do,” she said, and her voice was quieter now. She wanted to sleep so badly. The TV noise was just static in the background as her eyes finally closed. “I’m safe,” she mumbled, already falling into sleep.
“Pretty and rich? Yeah. I have room for that type in my wheelhouse.” Metzli snickered and their eyes became so warm and gentle. As always, Bex was the only person who could bring this out of them. They loved her, and all they wanted to do was take care of her and help her through whatever she needed them for.
A lump formed in their throat at Bex’s approval. Not out of sadness, but out of how much it meant. For someone like Bex and Metzli, receiving touch had to come when they allowed it. And the gentlest of hands were not accepted easily. Slowly, Metzli let their hand travel to Bex’s scalp, hovering for just a few moments before fingers brushed through her hair. They listened as her breathing grew deeper and steadied into a slow tempo. Before long, her body went completely limp, but Metzli continued their affections. “I’ll always be here, Bex. From now on, you’ll be safe with me.”
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TIMING: Two weeks ago, after this
PARTIES: @inbextween @deathisanartmetzli
SUMMARY: Bex and Metzli meet up to check out the sand.
CONTAINS: Domestic abuse mentions, PTSD
Bex could so do this on her own, she decided, marching purposefully through the sand in her hiking boots. She figured maybe it’d be easier to walk on sand with shoes made for gripping slippery surfaces. She could easily find some stupid sand pit on her own, she didn’t really need help. She’d just offered for Metzli to come along because they were so insistent and worried and she wanted to prove to them that she didn’t need any help. She was perfectly capable. This was a good thing. What had happened to her was good and she could prove it. She would prove it.
The sand sunk beneath her feet more and more as she walked along the shore, pausing every now and then to toss a rock or shell towards a suspicious looking spot, waiting to see if the sand would try and swallow it up. Prodding places with a stick she found but to little avail. Finally, huffing, she put her hands on her sides and huffed loudly. “How hard is it to find a stupid pit of sand?” She kicked at a clump and watched it spray along the surface. Something caught her eye, moving sluggishly along the shore line. Bex tilted her head and watched for a moment, transfixed, until she heard a noise behind her and whipped around, hands up, magic at the ready. But it was just Metzli and she groaned, dropping her hands and rolling her eyes. “I don’t need a babysitter,” she said, turning back around to prod at the sand again, “it’s just sand, right?”
Going back to the beach wasn’t something Metzli had wanted to do, not after they had taken days to finish a simple sculpture. Though they wouldn’t admit it to others, being buried alive had royally fucked them up. The first night of redoing their sculpture was spent at the edge, where the parking lot met the sand. Even after that, they could only spend five to ten minutes at a time on it. Any more than that, and they would have gone into a panic-induced frenzy. This visit would be different though. They were with a friend. One that was being particularly insensitive, which wasn’t in character. “I’m not here to babysit.” They hissed, too on edge to soften their response. “It’s not just sand. I was literally buried alive not even ten feet away.” Feet were planted at the edge, just like before, unable to take another step forward. Their whole body shook, subtly vibrating in fear of being consumed again.
Metzli stayed where they were, watching Bex’s magic glow around her hands. They couldn’t help but smile. She really was getting the hang of her magic. Whether it was an effect of the fruit or her determination, they didn’t know. They just hoped it was the latter. “Impressive, by the way.” A finger pointed at the glow, “Your magic. Can’t help but feel proud. It’s even better than the last time I saw it.” When she almost died. The memory made them wince, but the light of the moon wasn’t strong enough for their features to be caught. “You see anything yet?”
“Then why are you here?” Bex asked, looking back over her shoulder at the vampire. It was dusk, the sun dipping below the trees behind them, casting long shadows against the beach. She gave up on the stick and dropped it, prodding around with her toes now, careful to not take too big of a step and lose her footing. She glanced once more back at Metzli, frowning. “Okay, so it’s sentient sand. I still see the big deal. You didn’t have to come with.” Everyone thought Bex was weak and needed protecting, even Metzli had fallen into the pattern, despite Bex insisting when they first met that she could take care of herself. Now, everyone wanted to swoop in and save her as if she were some damsel in distress. But now, with her magic and her mind pulsing with energy, she didn’t need any of them.
She did smile, though, when Metzli mentioned her magic. Perking up, she grinned. “Ever since that day at the tree, it’s been getting easier and easier to control. And I have so much energy, I don’t even have to worry about it wiping me out like it used to.” Wanting to show off, she waved her hands and used her magic to pull up a wad of sand, curling it into a tight ball before hurling it at Metzli, where it splattered on the ground by their feet and spread sand all over. “See? I’m perfectly fi–”
Her sentence was cut short, however, when her foot sank a little too far into the sand and suddenly she was up to her knees in it, hands planted on the other side as the sudden drop made her fall forward. “Oh, I think I found it!” she said excitedly, face alight.
“As a precaution. And to…” Metzli’s breath hitched, feeling a tightness in their chest. They wanted to feel okay, to be able to be on the sand, or even just look at it without it sending them shaking. Being so pathetic didn’t feel good in the slightest. “To try and get over my shit. Macleod and Milo have been on my ass about not being okay and I just figured if I could walk on the sand without freaking out, I can prove that I’m fine.” Their foot started to tap nervously on the pavement, still reluctant to let their sneakers sink into the sand. They didn’t have to make themselves do anything though. Bex was hurling a bundle of sand their way, and they jumped, a little angry that they did.
“Hey! Don’t do th—” Words ended abruptly when Bex sank into the sand. Metzli moved instantly, springing toward their friend without a second thought. When she was secured in their arms, they yanked her from the small dip, and darted back to the solid ground, hurriedly setting her down. They watched in horror as the sand continued to move, but they were thankful Bex didn’t get taken away.
“Precaution my ass,” Bex mumbled, trying not to roll her eyes too much. She knew Metzli was just there to make sure she didn’t hurt herself and it bothered her a little. It shouldn’t have, Mina or Morgan or Nell would’ve done the same– but maybe that thought bothered her, too. The thought that people just assumed Bex needed someone to take care of her. She didn’t anymore. Maybe before, but that was different. She was different. She was better now, stronger, more healthy, more powerful. More in control. In control enough to get herself out of any mess she’d get herself into, including sinking into the sand. It was a strange feeling, something pulling on her leg, squeezing, pressure increasing. She wondered if there was something below the sand, controlling it. Was it magic? She wanted to know. She dug her hands in and tried to feel it, tried to find the center of its energy, tried to–
But it didn’t matter. Because in the next moment, she was being yanked from the sand and hauled over to the sidewalk faster than she could react. Her feet planted on solid ground and she turned, immediately shoving Metzli, anger on her face. “What the hell was that for!? I was fine!”
Bex fought back, shoving while Metzli was panicked and only trying to save their friend. They didn’t budge, too stoned into place. She was being reckless and they didn’t understand why she was fighting back so hard. Friends were supposed to protect each other, weren’t they? “I couldn’t just stand there, okay?! I couldn’t! I was stuck down there for days, Bex. Days!” Their voice nearly turned into a shriek as they spiraled, darting their eyes back and forth from the sand, to Bex. “You can’t expect me to sit back. I didn’t have to breathe in the claustrophobic space, but you would. Just think logically for a second. Don’t you care in the slightest how I feel about this after what I went through?”
Metzli raked their hand through their hair, tugging at the curls to help their panic. Had it not been for their heart being dead, it’d probably be thundering in their chest. It certainly felt like it was. “If you wanna keep checking it out, fine. I can’t stop you. You’re too fucking stubborn.” They sucked their teeth and placed trembling hands on their hips as they surveyed the area. Why did Bex have to have such a hard head? “But at least do me the courtesy of doing it safely. For my sake. You’re freaking me out and I’m going to annoy you with that because I’m allowed to.”
“I was thinking logically!” Bex said back. “In case you forgot, I have magic and I’m pretty damn good at using it now. I’m not stupid, I had a plan to get out.” She grit her teeth as her jaw clenched and she looked back at the moving sand before turning her gaze back to Metzli. She could see they were panicked, worried, maybe even paranoid. Bex deflated a little and unfurled her arms. “You didn’t have to come. I told you you didn’t. And of course I care, but you were the one who insisted you were fine and totally okay. Obviously you’re not, but I’m no one’s therapist so I’m not going to sit there and force you to talk about it.”
Not that Bex really needed their permission, but at the words, she turned back to the beach and hopped on the sand. “Not sure there’s really anyway to get sucked up by a sand pit safely, but I’ll try my best,” she said, looking back over her shoulder. “Worry all you want, I can’t stop you, but maybe– just maybe– put a little confidence in me. Everyone thinks I’m so fragile and breakable and that I can’t fight back or do the things I want to do.” She started moving towards the pit, that was still sucking up sand and shells from the surface. “But they’re wrong.” Purple magic seeped from her hands and crawled up her arms. “I’ll prove it.”
“I know I didn’t have to come. I wanted to, with someone I trust, so I could try to be okay with being here. Macleod loves the beach.” Metzli pinched the bridge of their nose, a little less frantic and much more frustrated instead. “I’m not asking you to be my therapist, Bex. I’m just asking you to listen to me. I am fine, but I’m not gonna stand here and pretend like being here doesn’t put me on edge. Like the possibility of you getting stuck in there doesn’t terrify me.” They took a few steps toward Bex, listening as best they could until she forced herself out of reach, and right onto the sand. Tremors threatened to take over, but they tensed their muscles and released, forcing composure to settle. Sheppard’s tools were really coming in handy.
“You don’t have to prove anything! Bex, come on. Don’t put yourself in danger just to prove—” Metzli’s eyes widened, watching their friend as she stepped closer to the put, unable to move. They were stuck in between putting their faith in her and doing what they thought was best. Which answer was correct? A guess surely wouldn’t suffice. She desperately wanted to prove herself, and they understood that need. And hadn’t she put faith in them a hundred times before? Even when death was staring them in the face and all the odds were against them, she believed in them. Maybe it was their turn to stand back and wait. So, they did.
“Yes I do!” Bex said back, whirling on her heels to face Metzli again. The sand moved easily under her feet, but magic flared in her hands. It had always been so connected to her emotions, it was nearly impossible, now, to hide it. “I do have to prove myself because none of you ever believe that I can take care of myself!” And maybe that had been true before, but it wasn’t now and it never would be again. She wasn’t going to let anything ruin the gift she’d been given. “Tell me, honestly, if I told you I was going on say, a hike, alone– what would you say? What would you tell me?” Bex was tired of being treated like a child. She understood that she’d been a little behind, mentally, while she had let her parents control her life– but she was better now. Everything about her was better.
“The hypocrisy in this place is astounding,” she finally said again, standing up straighter. “Everyone tells me I need to be more careful, that I need to make sure I’m informed and that I understand what’s going on. But then they also tell me to not do anything or go out anywhere or look for anything. How am I supposed to learn if I can’t discover it for myself?” She took another step back. “I’m not going to get stuck,” she stated simply, before stepping back into the pit and letting the sand swallow her.
Metzli blinked, taken aback by the explosion of emotions. Bex always felt so deeply, maybe a little too much even. And they understood that, in a sense. They didn’t remember much from childhood, but they did remember all the intense emotions that went with begging for love and begging to have your existence met with something other than hatred. They remembered how those requests were met with punishment, leading to burying every part of themselves and collecting those emotions in a container that had no outlet. Only a small leak. Such confinement led to devastation, to something always lacking; control.
“I would—” It didn’t matter what they said, did it? Bex knew the answer. “I’d tell you to bring someone with you.” Metzli said, defeatedly. She needed to prove herself, and it wasn’t fair, they thought, to prevent her from doing so. It would be so inherently wrong to do so when she placed her bet on them without a second thought, even when the odds were stacked against them. As a friend, they knew they needed to do the same for her. Terrifying as it was, it was the right thing to do. “Y-you’re right, Bex.” Metzli took a deep breath. “You’re right. I believe in you. I do. You got this.” They kept their feet planted, letting their friend walk onto what they saw as death as she was consumed. Ants stung under their skin, but they had to stay in place, they knew they did. One beat. A second beat. And then another. And another. God, they hoped they didn’t just let their friend die.
Being enveloped by sentient sand was a lot different than Bex thought it might be. Then again, she’d never been buried alive by anything. It was probably a really good thing she wasn’t claustrophobic, but then again, her problems would’ve started much earlier than this if she had been. No, closed spaces like this felt more like a safe haven. Like a security blanket. She almost felt…comfortable as the sand curled around her and the light disappeared. Safe only from suffocating thanks to the lavender shimmer of magic coating her like armor. She took in a breath and opened her eyes to the blank darkness. She could feel something inside of it, an energy pulsing, like a heartbeat. This sand was alive.
She felt as if she could feel its hunger, insatiable and ever growing. A presence never satisfied. Hands reached through the sand and grasped something, enveloping the item in magic as well. Bex couldn’t see it through the dark, but she knew it had once belonged to someone else who had been sunk into the sand. An anger flared in her chest. People had died down here and their memories, too. Her eyes lit up, a flaring purple, as her magic began to expand, pushing the sand away from her. More items dropped into the bubble of magic, clinking together at the bottom in a pile. It built and built until Bex let out a cry and all the sand around her exploded outwards, raining down clumps of wet sand and any and all objects that had been sunken into the sand. Bex was spit out, landing face first into the normal sand, still clutching whatever she’d grabbed from inside the sand.
It was quiet a moment, before Bex sat up, coated in sand and mud and whatever else had decided to stick to her. She looked around at the beach, then over to Metzli, as a large smile spread onto her face. “Did you see that!?” she called out, her voice high pitched and excitable. “That was so cool!”
There were so many sounds, so many small flicks of movement that Metzli couldn’t quite discern. Something akin to a squeak escaped them from the nerves that continued to build with every second that ticked by. They wanted to pounce forward, to dig and dig until they could pull Bex out, but they stayed in place, not even pacing. Doing so, even moving a little bit would motivate them to do more. She wanted their trust, to have someone believe in her the way she believed in so many others. With the progress she’d made in her magic and the confidence she had, Metzli wanted to give her their faith. And they tried desperately to hold onto it. Shield it away from the panic that threatened to dismantle it completely. Until, finally, a muffled yell reached their ears and Bex flew into the sky.
“Holy shit. Holy shit!” Metzli let out a shaky sigh of relief, too surprised to move. When Bex reached them, they wrapped their arms around her and lifted, spinning them both. “Yeah, I fucking saw it!” A smile that matched Bex’s rose on their face, reaching their eyes that were so full of excitement, it felt like they were glowing with glee. They placed Bex down and laughed in disbelief, blinking and dusting away sand off of both of them. Catching a glimpse of Bex’s arms carrying something, their head tilted curiously. “What’s that?”
Bex was lifted into the air and twirled, tasting sand in her mouth but laughing all the same. When her feet hit the ground again she stumbled a little, dizzy but walking on air. She hadn’t known the extent of her magic quite yet, but the more she used it, the more she realized how good she could be at it. She was better now. She was great. She had control and she was happy and she was healthy. Suddenly, that strange feeling again made Bex’s brows knit together. A car in the distance backfired and a flock of birds flew overhead. She glanced back over at the beach and the scattered items and watched as the sand began to trickle back into the hole she’d blasted in the beach, taking with it all the items that had spewed from it. “No!”
Bex blinked and she was being lifted into the air and spun around. Her feet hit the ground and she stumbled a little. But this time, there was no smile, overwhelmed by a sense of deja vu. She looked back at the beach and in the distance, heard a car backfire. Without a word, she rushed towards the beach again and started scooping up as many items as she could, clutching the one she’d found first, and trying her best to gather as much as she could before the sand suddenly trembled and began to swallow the hole she’d made back up. She stumbled back, falling onto her backside into the regular sand, holding fistfuls of jewelry and trinkets and a dirty, torn ballcap. She looked over at Metzli, confused but unquestioning. “I had to save them,” she said, looking down at her lap, “it’s all that’s left of the people they belonged to.”
Hearing Bex laugh caused laughter of their own to take over. She looked so happy and so free of any troubles. Metzli had never seen her so content, and really, what she had done was dangerous, but she had made it out successfully. With a little bit of faith, she was able to prove herself not only capable, but aware of her own power. She’d appeared to have gone a long way from the beginner spellcaster they met nearly a year ago. “I’ve never seen your magic do shit like that. It was increíble! How did—” Bex interrupted them with her exclamation and subsequent leap back into the sand. “H-hey! What’s…wr—oh. Oh!” They hadn’t even noticed the items that were strewn all over the ground. Bex had taken priority, but now she was going back into the sand, into that death trap that still terrified them.
For a split second, Metzli hesitated to follow. Bex had the capability to get herself out, so it was reasonable to believe she could get them out too if anything happened. Get them both out. In a blink, Metzli darted forward and grabbed as many items as they could alongside their friend. Tremors took over, and they dropped a few things just as quickly as they picked them up in the process, but they had fistfuls of items too when they heaved their body backwards onto firm ground. Metzli didn’t feel anything for the people the items belonged to, but they understood why it was important to grab them nonetheless. Their own items could have easily been a part of the pile. “I get it.” They said, sitting up and plopping their items on their lap so they could put a gentle hand on Bex’s shoulder. “You did a good thing. A little crazy, but good.”
Looking down at the items in her lap, Bex wondered how many of these things belonged to people who had gotten out. And then she wondered about the bones of those who hadn’t. Were they under that sand somewhere? Deep beneath the earth? Of had they vanished, been consumed, by the sand. She looked over at Metzli as a hand was placed on her shoulder and she blinked. “It felt alive,” she said, picking up one of the necklace’s she’d managed to swipe. It was rusted and covered in sand, but Bex could still see the charm, half a jagged heart, that said ‘Best’ on one side. She wondered if the ‘Friends’ necklace was in there, too.
She dropped it back in her lap, giving a half-hearted smile. “Thanks,” she said quietly. The truth was that she hadn’t done it to find these things, though. She’d done it because she was curious, because she’d wanted to know. And then she’d felt the pain of all the people swallowed whole, as if their spirits still lingered inside the missing items, reaching through the planes to touch her magic. She sighed and tugged off her jacket, dumping the things she’d found in it and wrapping it up like a sack. “We should probably get going,” she said, standing up stiffly, “Mina’s gonna wonder where I am.”
Metzli dropped the items they had collected with Bex’s, grimacing at the amount they had managed to scrounge up. All those people didn’t have lungs that didn’t need oxygen. They supposed they were lucky in spite of the PTSD they had over being buried alive. With a wry smile, they nodded at Bex and swallowed, feeling the grittiness from the sand that got in their mouth. “Yeah, you should get home to her.” They stood up with her, craning their neck to give the beach one last look. Macleod loved the beach, but Metzli had made it clear they didn’t want to go anywhere near it after what happened. There was too big of a chance that they could get swallowed again. But maybe, just maybe, they could work their way up to standing on the sand for more than a few minutes at a time. After all, they were able to combat their panic even when the sand came to life. With enough patience and love, they’d be able to build a sandcastle with their partner. “I know I said it already, but I am proud of you.” Taking a few steps toward their car, they stopped and turned around again. This time, to look at Bex with genuine eyes that spoke volumes, glinting gently in the moonlight. “And I do trust you. You’re a badass, Bex. It was amazing seeing your magic.”
#wickedswriting#sunken treasures#metzli and bex#writing in blood#domestic abuse tw#beach please#writings
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To: Bex, From: Papa Metzli
Hey Bex, just thought you could use some color. Marigolds are greatly symbolic in my culture, and they represent power, strength, and light.
Stay safe.
-M
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@nelllraiser
[pm] Oh chill the fuck out. I wouldn’t have dropped a name if I didn’t already know for certain. I would have done it like I did with Kyle (:
Just tell me what your experiences have been already.
[pm] Yeah, because you were so smart with Kyle
[pm] If you knew I knew for certain then why bother being so vague?
[pm] My experiences?
[pm] I don’t know
[pm] He messaged Bex, and I
[pm] Threatened to go after my parents
[pm] Some of his asshole followers managed to tear up Metzli pretty good
[pm] Why?
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@deathisanartmetzli
[pm] But I should. Because I hurt you and because I do understand, I should. It’s not about that or me, though.
I didn’t even give you the chance to do something. You had every right to know. I let two of my friends suffer just because I thought I was doing the right thing. And you’re not supposed to let your friends suffer. You two hurt each other and even hurt others, and now you’re hurting more because of that. I’m just so sorry Bex.
[pm] I get it, Metzli, I know you’re sorry, I know you know you fucked up-- but how many more times are you going to before you get it?
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Safe Place To Land || Bex and Mina
TIMING: Right after Bex gets out of the Mirrors
PARTIES: @drowningisinevitable and @inbextween
SUMMARY: Mina comes rushing to pick Bex up after she calls her and Bex reluctantly explains what happened.
CONTENT: Assault mention, Domestic abuse mentions
Bex waited until Murphy was gone beyond the treelines before she dialed up Mina. Put the phone shakily to her ear. She hadn’t bothered reading through the multitude of missed messages or listen to all the voicemails, they weren’t really important, when it didn’t matter. What had happened, happened, and nothing was going to change that. It wasn’t like she’d purposefully gotten stuck in the mirrors for a day. She wanted to forget about it, anyway. She wanted to go home and curl up in her bed and maybe let Mina hold her. Or take a hot shower to clean herself off first. Yeah, that all sounded really nice. Mina’s voice on the other end sounded even nicer. “Mina? Please don’t freak out, please,” she asked quietly, shivering against the cold of the autumn breeze. She looked around at the empty carnival grounds, then down at her feet. “I’m at the carnival. By the hall of mirrors. I-- I’m okay. I’m okay, but can you um, can you come get me? I...I don’t want to walk home.”
It wasn’t that Mina was panicking. It was just that Mina was panicking. A lot. And had been since Bex didn’t come home. She was grateful that Bex had released her from her promise since she’d been out all night, looking for Bex. She still would have tried to look for Bex, even if she had still been promise bound. She knew it wouldn’t have ended well. She would have tried anyway. Her head was killing her, and she couldn’t sit still, and, yes, she was definitely panicking, but it was like a wave of relief washing over her when she saw Bex’s name on her phone. “Bex!” She was relieved and panicked and happy and incredibly anxious. “Okay, okay, I can– Okay. I’ll head that way. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” No questions. She wasn’t going to ask questions. She couldn’t even think of what she’d even ask, not yet. She’d figure out what to ask when she knew that Bex was safe.
Bex stayed in her spot once Mina hung up, having told her exactly where she’d be. She pulled her jacket tighter around herself, knowing it wouldn’t really matter. Mina would see the bruises that Murphy had left no her neck, the claw marks that matched them. The glass in her leg from where the wolf had smashed the mirror with her. She didn’t know what she was going to say, actually. She didn’t think she could tell Mina who had done this, not without someone wanting to go after Murphy. She couldn’t do that, not to Metzli. Nell or Morgan or someone would go after her. She shifted uncomfortably for a moment, glancing down the walkway, when she spotted Mina coming up the path. She watched her until she was close enough to hear her footsteps. “Hi,” was all she said.
When Mina parked, she started out walking towards where Bex said she was, then jogging, then running when she saw her girlfriend. She skidded to a stop in front of Bex. “Hi?” She was checking Bex over, her eyes widening as she took in the bruises and the glass and the look on Bex’s face. And she didn’t say anything more, and Mina didn’t know what to say. Everything felt like so much right now, and this was no different, and she didn’t know what to do with it. She wanted Bex to tell her what happened. It didn’t seem like Bex was going to tell her what happened. She wanted to hold Bex, but she didn’t think that was a good idea. “Hi,” she said, a little dejected. “I parked– I mean, I tried to park close, but I couldn’t, really, but I got as close as I could, and I was so worried, and I didn’t– I parked over there. Can you walk?”
Mina looked just as panicked as Bex thought she might, maybe even more. She was checking her over and Bex let her, unfurling from herself. She just wanted to go home. Mina was still panicking, Bex could see it, and she knew Mina wanted her to explain, to say something more than just ‘Hi’ but Bex didn’t quite know how to. She tried to smile, reaching out and taking Mina by the arms to get her to stop moving and talking so much. “It’s okay,” she said, “I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner. I, um--” she looked back at the hall, before she turned back to Mina. “Got stuck in the mirrors, I guess. They do that, too.” And it was still strange, she thought, that her future mirror had shown her nothing. Not even her reflection. She took the moment to pull Mina into her, instead, and hugged her, despite the sharp pain in her back.
Looking at Bex with wide eyes, Mina went still as she put her hands on her arms. “It doesn’t look okay,” she blurted out. “It looks like you’re hurt, and you got stuck in the mirrors? They do that? I didn’t know they did that.” Mina let Bex puller her into her, and she couldn’t help it; her arms wrapped around Mina, and she breathed out a sigh of relief. “I was so worried. And I know that you couldn’t call because… mirrors, but I was so worried, and you’re hurt, and how is that you always seem to be getting hurt.” She pulled away enough to look at Bex more closely. Her hands went to hover a few inches away from the marks on her neck. She could see the claw marks, and Mina knew that something did this. She swallowed tightly, thinking back to when Kyle had attacked Bex, how similar these marks looked. But it could be anything. But something did this to Bex.
Bex sighed heavily. “I know,” she said quietly, “I know it doesn’t. But it is. Okay?” She leaned against Mina, grateful to be in her arms. She listened to her talk, and she’d never really thought Mina was a rambler unless she was talking about something she loved, like math or chaos theory or music, but the words tumbling out of her mouth now didn’t seem to stop. “I don’t know. Guess I’m just kind of accident prone,” she answered, looking down again. She saw the big chunk of glass in her leg again, the cloth she’d tied around it to keep it from bleeding too much. She wasn’t afraid of Murphy, of her killing her or her friends, Bex wouldn’t let that happen. She didn’t know how she felt about her, except angry. Bex wanted to hurt her and she didn’t like that. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get hurt again.” She shied away when Mina’s hands ghosted over the claw marks and turned her head. “I can walk, let’s just go home, please. I want to go home.”
Mina jerked her hand away. “Sorry,” she said, and she didn’t want to hurt Bex even more. Mina didn’t want to hurt her. The last thing she’d ever want to do is hurt her. Mina didn’t want to hurt her. But it was kind of hard for her to hide her own hurt as she realized that Bex wasn’t going to tell her what happened. She turned her head away, too, wrapping her arms around herself. She felt like her whole body was buzzing, still, that hadn’t stopped for over a week, but it didn’t feel good anymore. She wanted to go back to it feeling good. Instead, everything just felt too much. “Okay. We can go home. I– I’ll get the first aid kit when we get there. Your leg doesn’t look good. Your neck… We need to see about those. I’m not parked far. It won’t take long.”
“Mina…” Bex said, her shoulders sagging. “I--” She reached back out for her and took her hand. “I”m sorry. I didn’t mean to.” She stood, stiffly, her leg aching as she came over to Mina, tentatively putting her hands on her arms. “Look, it-- it’s not important what happened, okay? I’m okay now and it’s not going to happen again. I just want to go home,” she muttered. She didn’t like that look on MIna’s face, the one that was clearly hurt and upset that Bex wasn’t telling her what was going on, about what had happened. She tugged on Mina to unfurl her arms. “Please don’t be upset,” she asked, looking at her with pleading eyes. “It’s nothing bad, okay?” She didn’t know what else to say, or how to say it. She brushed her hand along Mina’s jaw. “I’m okay.” And she knew Mina got so worried about her, all the time, but she’d been doing so good lately, they both had, and Bex just wanted it to stay that way. She didn’t want her to go after someone just because of this.
“I know you didn’t mean to. I don’t need you to apologize for that,” Mina said, and she didn’t. She didn’t need an apology for things that weren’t in Bex’s control. But… Mina realized she wanted something. An explanation. She wanted to know what happened. She didn’t understand why Bex wouldn’t tell her when they’d agreed to tell each other things from now on. “That’s a lie,” she muttered. Because nothing didn’t wrap bruises around someone’s neck, and nothing didn’t put glass in someone’s leg, and nothing didn’t cause someone to get stuck inside a mirror for an entire day. Mina knew it wouldn’t feel like nothing if she pressed her fingers into the spots on Bex’s neck, and that was such a confusing and startling thought that Mina blinked and tried to shake it out of her head. She didn’t feel good anymore. She wanted to go back to feeling good, please. Her face softened at Bex’s touch, like it always did, but she was still hurt. She still just wanted Bex to tell her what happened, but she refused to say the words.
Bex recoiled slightly at Mina’s words. It was a lie, and the luxury of being able to lie was one she often overlooked. Lying had saved her a lot in life. She didn’t want to lie to Mina. “I-- it was just a-- I ran into someone who doesn’t like me very much,” she finally said, feeling her insides vibrate, “they’re a nobody, though, okay? And-- and yes, they did this but it-- there’s nothing to be done about it. The mirrors were just an accident.” She reached up to turn Mina’s face towards her again. “Just...so much has been happening and then we got to be happy and I want it to stay that way,” she said quietly.
“Who?” Mina asked, still confused, maybe moreso. She didn’t know of anyone that actively disliked Bex. She thought Bex would have told her, if that was the case. Or maybe she wouldn’t have, if she didn’t want to tell her now. She let Bex turn her face back, looking in her eyes for a moment before she avoided them again, instead focusing on the marks on Bex’s neck, on the bruises that led into scratches. “I wasn’t going to– I just wanted you to talk to me and tell me what happened,” Mina said. She wrung her hands together. “I know, and I know, and I want it to stay that way, too, I like being happy with you, but I also– I’d like– I thought we were supposed to be telling each other things.” Mina told Bex things. Even when she didn’t want to. She didn’t know how not to, because as much as she wanted to keep Bex safe, she wanted Bex to trust her, too, and she didn’t think that Bex would ever let her get away with not explaining what happened. She didn’t realize that the sentiment wasn’t returned.
“We--” Bex started, confused for a moment. “We are. I do. I tell you things, I--” she hadn’t thought this would qualify. Bex told her everything, she did. But this was different. It was different. She looked back at the hall, remembered the anger and hatred in Murphy’s eyes, the threats to hurt the people Bex cared about, and it was all just happening all over again, wasn’t it? The secrets, the hiding, the pretending to do the right thing to protect people. She didn’t want that to happen again. “I don’t want to hide things from you, and I’m not, I don’t mean to, it’s just...please don’t do anything.” She wasn’t going to make her promise, not after what happened with Frank, but she wanted to hear her say it, first. She needed to make sure she wouldn’t try and do anything. She’d seen the way they all looked at Kyle and that was an accident.
Mina eyebrows furrowed together. Was that what this was about? Bex thought that Mina was going to go after whoever did this. And maybe that was reasonable, in some way, but Mina had… never actually properly gone after anyone that hurt Bex. Not unless they counted Frank, and they probably should, but he’d hurt Mina, too, even though that wasn’t her reason for killing him. But she hadn’t hurt Bex’s parents, as much as she wanted to, and she hadn’t killed Kyle, as much as she’d wanted to at the time, and she hadn’t staked Metzli, though she’d wanted to. Because Bex told her not to. She didn’t do anything if Bex told her not to. Even if she wanted to. She’d punched Roy in the nose. That’d been rather heat of the moment, though. “I won’t do anything,” she said quietly. She wasn’t going to do anything. She wasn’t going to actively pursue any sort of violence against this person. Even if she thought that she should.
Bex watched Mina’s face as she thought about what she’d asked of her. But Bex knew she’d agree, because this was Mina, and Mina would do anything for Bex, and Bex would do anything for her. She would. She was hers and she had Mina and they had forever. They’d promised each other forever and that they’d always tell each other things and no more secrets. No more secrets. “Her name is Murphy,” she finally said, quietly, sitting back down, because her leg was hurting and her neck hurt and her back hurt and now her heart hurt a little. “She feels....threatened by me because of Metzli.”
Mina didn’t know any Murphys. Now, she didn’t particularly care to. And of course it was tied back to Metzli, and Mina didn’t blame them, really, but this wasn’t surprising. Or it shouldn’t have been surprising. Mina moved to sit by Bex, sighing. “I won’t go after her or anything,” she said, repeating what she’d said before, though not quite. She’d probably be pretty pissed off if she actually met Murphy on the street or in the woods or at a carnival. But she wasn’t going to go after her. Not unless this became a thing. “Ah, yes. Someone who can beat the absolute shit out of you being threatened by a skinny, twenty-something year old woman. Very threatening. She was clearly in the right.” And the words were such a lie that they burned, that she was surprised that they’d managed to come out. She could practically feel her stomach clenching in on itself. She just hoped her nose didn’t start bleeding. She looked at Bex, reaching up to brush the hair from her face. “I missed you.”
Bex heard the bite in Mina’s voice and glanced at her sideways, wincing a little. “You know I can defend myself,” she said, letting out a long huff. “Usually.” She turned to look at her, eyes tired. She really just wanted to go home, after having spent an entire day inside an echoless, wordless chamber with someone who wanted to rip her throat out, all because she couldn’t see the righteousness in her violence. “It wasn’t-- she’s not physically threatened by me or anything. She-- thinks I make them weak.” That was kind of a running theme with Bex, wasn’t it? She made people weak. Mina, Morgan, Nell, and now even Metzli. “I don’t know what I did to her to make her hate me so much. But I just-- I hated the way she looked at me. It made me so...angry.” She leaned into Mina’s touch, before she rest her head on Mina’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, I should’ve just told you. I just don’t want...I don’t want to make a thing out of this.”
“I know you can. Usually,” Mina said, a tired smile on her face. She was finally starting to relax, and she still didn’t feel good, still felt like she was going to vibrate right out of her skin, but it wasn’t bad like before. “Just, I mean, you’re not physically threatening, no. I’m not either, though, I suppose.” She snorted, feeling a spike of anger work its way into her system. “I didn’t realize that it was weak to help someone understand that maybe killing indiscriminately and being an arsehole all the time made them weak.” Mina sighed, brushing her thumb along Bex’s cheek before she wrapped her arm around her as she pulled her close. “I’m sorry she looked at you like that. I get being angry. And I get not wanting to make something out of this, but… It’s already something. I mean, it happened. That makes it something. I want– I want you to be able to trust that I won’t do something rash just because something happens. I want to be able to trust that you won’t do something rash because something happens.”
Bex leaned into Mina and burrowed in a little more, wrapping her own arms around Mina and letting out a long breath, deflating in her arms. “No, I guess we’re not,” she admitted quietly. And even if they were still sitting on a bench in the middle of a carnival that was completely empty, she felt safer. Better. She always felt safer with Mina. “I guess she think it’s going to get them killed,” she mumbled, “she thinks violence is the only way.” And that thought made her angry again. What hatred could someone hold in their heart to believe that? It was just like her mother. Only anger, only violence. She drew in a breath and held it. “I don’t know if I can...promise that. You-- you saw what happened with Roy. I couldn’t-- when people threaten you and hurt you, I-- and I know it’s hypocritical, I know, but I finally have something good in my life and I don’t want to let anyone take that away from me.”
Sometimes Mina still thought that violence was the only solution, but she’d been working her way out of that line of thinking. She mostly considered it against creatures that weren’t properly sentient, mindless monsters that only knew killing and eating and hurting. That was all she hunted anymore, and it wasn’t like Mina hunted much of anything, these days. She’d been doing just fine not hunting at night. She was just fine keeping that up if it meant that she got to wrap her arms around the girl that she loved every night and cuddle close. Even now, Mina wanted to be closer, closer, closer still, too much separating them. “It’s not the only way. She’s a fool if she thinks that,” Mina murmured, soft and gentle. She leaned away a little to look at Bex, biting the inside of her cheek. “I… I don’t know if I could promise that, either. It’s a bit hypocritical, yes. I feel the same, you know. I don’t think I’d handle it well, someone trying to hurt you, not if I thought that I could stop it.”
“I know, Mina,” Bex said quietly, just as quietly, “I know.” She’d killed Frank for Bex, and Bex knew Mina would do it again if she had to. She almost did with Roy, she said she would have, if he’d tried to hurt her again. And Bex had told Roy she would kill him if he tried again, but she didn’t. Maybe Bex really was all bark and no bite. She moved when Mina did, staying close. “I just...I already put you in that position once. I don’t want to do that again.” She still thought about it a lot. Too often, actually. She thought about how many times she’d failed Mina. How many times she’d failed protecting her. Maybe this wasn’t about that, specifically, but when Bex thought about what had happened, she only felt anger. She hated Murphy, and she never wanted to hate anyone. The violence Murphy had shown Bex was the same violence Bex had dealt with her entire life. It was not fear that had filled her, but anger. “I want to do better for you. I’m sorry.”
“You didn’t put me in any sort of position. I put myself there quite readily,” Mina said, and it was easy for her to let her head fall back against Bex’s, her eyes wide open as she kept looking around them. She almost expected this Murphy to come out of nowhere and try to hurt Bex again, and Mina hated even the thought of that, rage spiking up within her like something white hot and dangerous, and she needed to not go there, she wanted to be back to the happy, good feelings. She needed to find those again. Bex was the best place to find those. Mina’s head felt fuzzy and strange, and she was beginning to not like it. “I don’t need you to do better. I really don't, I promise that I don’t. I don’t. I just need you, that’s it. You don’t have to apologize, you don’t.” Then, moving enough to press a kiss to Bex’s temple, she added, “I love you.”
Mina still didn’t blame Bex and she probably never would, but Bex figured that was expected. She should, but she never would. She closed her eyes and stayed against Mina, letting the pressure of her body bring her back from the place in her mind where she couldn’t think about anything except the anger. She didn’t want to be that person, be that way, but everything about this world was making that so hard. Her eyes opened when Mina started talking again, but she stayed still, listening. She sat up and turned to look at her. “You have me,” she said quietly, “always. I’m yours.” She leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to Mina’s lips. “I love you, too.” She reached out to take Mina’s hand. “Can we go home now?”
“We can go home,” Mina said against Bex’s lips, taking her hand and standing. She was looking Bex over again, at the bruises and the marks and the shard of glass that was still in her leg. They needed to do something about that as soon as they got home. Mina was cataloguing everything that they’d need to do when they got home. “Do you need help?” she asked. Then, smiling gently, she lightly asked, “Would you like me to carry you?” She squeezed Bex’s hand with one of hers before she used the other to brush some of Bex’s hair away from her face, her thumb brushing against her cheek. “I can probably carry you, if you’d like. It’s not that far. It might even be romantic.”
Bex watched Mina stand and almost dreaded having to follow suit. Now that she'd been still for some time, now that she was safe and her mind and body weren't on alert, she could feel the aches and pains sinking in. Her back was screaming at her and her leg felt like it was on fire and her neck felt sore and throbbing. And then Mina was offering to carry her, as if she knew, as if she could just tell Bex needed something from her that she didn't want to ask for. "I… Might need you to do that, yeah…" she mumbled, looking back down at her feet. She wished she'd worn better shoes. She gave a half smile, brief on her lips. "Could be very romantic, I'm sure." She held her arms out for Mina, looking at her with a softness that was really only reserved for this girl, this girl that she loved more than anything and would do anything for. "I do like it when you carry me." She'd never not felt safe in Mina's arms, and even if it was only a short walk, she'd rather be curled in her arms than limping beside her. She figured Mina probably felt the same.
Mina gently put one arm under Bex’s knees and used the other to wrap around her back. “I’ve got you,” she murmured. She hoped it wasn’t hurting Bex too much, but she knew this was probably easier than if Bex had tried to walk herself. “Super romantic, yes. I was going to pick you up dinner the other night, but there was a whole mirror thing, and… yeah. Would you want to pick something up?” Then, she made a face. “No, after. We need to see about your leg, first, before anything? And how’s your heart? And you’ve been in there two days, so you must be hungry.” She kept talking all the way to the car, setting Bex down long enough to open the passenger door and help her in. Mina leaned in again, raking her eyes over Bex. “Are you really okay?” she asked quietly.
Bex leaned into Mina as she picked her up, laying her head on her shoulder and closing her eyes a moment. She wrapped her arms around her neck to hold on, breathing her in. The comfort she felt in Mina’s arms was zero to none, nothing else felt this way. She didn’t know what she’d do if she ever lost Mina. “We can get dinner,” she said when Mina stopped talking, “We can order something when we get home?” She untangled from Mina and climbed into the car, laying back against the seat. She looked up at her as she felt her checking her over again and reached out, cupping her cheek. “I am now,” she said, “and my heart is fine. I wasn’t scared, I was just worried about getting back to you and how worried you must’ve been.”
“I think that sounds good. We can do that.” Mina leaned into the touch before she kissed Bex’s palm and moved to get in the driver’s seat. She started the car and began driving, drumming her fingers against the steering wheel. “I was really worried. I mean, maybe a little bit worried than usual, which is already a lot, and I’m really grateful you’re alright. So grateful. I don’t know how to explain it.” When they made it home, Mina went back around to the passenger side to help Bex out again. And Bex was there, and she was okay, or she was mostly okay, and so many of the bad feelings in Mina’s chest were turning back into better, softer, warmer feelings. “Want me to carry you inside?” she asked, smiling.
“I’ll always come back to you,” was all Bex said, taking the time during the car ride to close her eyes and rest her mind and try not to think too much about the pain in her leg and around her neck. It was a quick ride home and Bex sat up, waiting for Mina to come around to her side, unbuckling as she opened the door. “If you think you can manage it,” she said, giving a gentle smile. She reached out to take Mina’s hand again, but paused when she grasped it, looking down at the shard of glass still in her leg. “Please don’t tell anyone about this,” she said in a small voice, “especially Metzli.” She lifted her gaze back to Mina’s. “I don’t want to make things harder for anyone.”
“I think I could manage,” Mina said as she helped Bex out and took her in her arms. She looked at Bex, her brow furrowing. She didn’t know why Metzli was specified. She wanted to ask. She didn’t ask. Mina didn’t want to have to ask things. She wanted Bex to tell her things. “I won’t tell anyone,” she agreed quietly, “but I think that you should, when you decide you’re ready to. It’s not going to do anyone any good to keep things like this from people.” She sighed. “Come one, we should just– we need to see about your leg, and your neck. And then some food. And then, maybe, cuddling on the couch with a movie?” She looked at Bex hopefully. “I can put on Jurassic Park or The Mummy.”
Bex leaned her head back on Mina’s shoulder. “I will,” she muttered, but she didn’t know if that was true, if she would. She didn’t want to say the wrong thing, she didn’t want to make people choose sides. She didn’t want Murphy to think she was weak like that. She didn’t know why, but it bothered her. It still bothered her. As they headed inside, she nodded against her. “That sounds nice,” she replied, arms still tight around Mina’s neck. She didn’t want to let go yet. She liked being in her arms. They were warm and safe, even if she could see Mina was a little upset that Bex didn’t want to tell people about what had happened. She’d barely wanted to tell Mina. But they’d promised to be better for each other, to not hide things at all anymore. “We can watch whatever you want.”
Mina wasn’t particularly sure that she believed Bex, but she felt better for having said something. She couldn’t just not say something. And she could tell that Bex didn’t want to let go, so Mina didn’t. She just held her. She just wanted to hold her. “You know my movie preferences are lacking. I want to watch whatever you do. I just want to be with you. I missed you.” She really needed to move them so that they could look at Bex’s leg, remove the glass, get it treated, but Mina just wanted to hold Bex close, wrap around her tight and not let go, but she couldn’t do that, not yet. But she wanted to. She was so glad that Bex was okay and not dead and no longer trapped inside some strange mirror dimension. She knew that there was something awful with those mirrors. She knew it.
“I missed you, too,” Bex sighed, and maybe it was silly, they’d only been apart for a few days, but she’d missed her so much. It was cold and felt like nothing inside those mirrors, and she’d been stuck in there with an angry wolf who thought she was a weak, useless piece of shit human. Bex didn’t realize how painful that all really had been until she was here, in Mina’s arms, and before she knew it, she was crying silently into her shoulder. Bex hadn’t had any idea how to get out of that place, it was really only chance that they did. Chance and anger. She’d been so concentrated on proving Murphy wrong, she hadn’t even thought about how to get out. If Murphy hadn’t broken the mirrors, then they might still be there. And Mina would still be frantically searching for her and worried out of her mind and Bex hated that thought. “I want to stay with you. I hate that things keep trying to take us apart.”
Bex was crying, and, like always, all Mina wanted to do was comfort her. “Hey,” she said, her voice low and soothing. “It’s okay. You’re back now. That’s what matters, right? You’re back now, and you’re okay.” That was what mattered. That was what Mina was telling herself mattered because it was what made her feel the best. And that awful feeling seemed to be ten times worse right now that it usually was, which was already a lot, and she just didn’t want to deal with that. She wanted Bex. She wanted to be close to Bex and warm and tangled up together. As soon as Bex’s leg was taken care of. “You’re here now. And you’re stuck with me, I’m afraid. Forever, right?” She pressed a kiss to Bex’s forehead and started moving them to the bathroom. “Let’s get you looked at, okay?”
Bex nodded into Mina again, not saying much. Mina was right, she was back and it was okay now, but she was just so tired of these things happening. She wanted to stay open and optimistic, she did, but people like Murphy made it so hard. Like her mother. They pulled up all of her anger and grief and turned it into raw power and she hated it. She hated them. She drew in a breath. “Forever,” she repeated, unfurling from Mina’s arms when they made it to the bathroom and she lowered herself to sit on the toilet, stretching her leg out stiffly. The blood was seeping through her jeans now and she moved to untie the tourniquet. “I didn’t really know what to do, so I just kinda left it in. I was worried pulling it out would make it worse.”
Mina was already getting out the first-aid kit, well-stocked for Bex and Mina related injuries. She chewed on the inside of her cheek as she looked to Bex’s leg. “I’m glad you didn’t pull it out,” she murmured. “I think it’s going to need stitches. I know it will, actually.” She got out everything that she’d need. “You really picked the worst time to wear blue jeans, you know. These are going to really awful to get off.” She wondered if she should just cut off the pant leg and then work from there. That might actually be best. “What if I just cut it off?” she asked. Then her eyes widened. “The pant leg, I mean! Just the pants. To make things easier. I think it’ll make things easier.”
“See? I can learn from past mistakes,” Bex tried to joke, though it sounded strange through the sniffles of her tears. She wiped them away with the palm of her hand and watched Mina gather the supplies, kneeling in front of her. “What else is new? I always need stitches…” she grumbled, “at this rate there won’t be anymore room for new scars.” And she wasn’t even trying to get into trouble anymore lately, it just happened. Like it followed her. Like her only purpose was to be pushed around until she finally came undone. Well, Bex had already decided she wasn’t going to let this place or these things change her. She wasn’t going to let go of who she wanted to be and what she believed, no matter what. “Well, if I’d known I was going to get glass stuck in my leg I would’ve worn a skirt.” She gave a short chuckle, finally smiling again. “Might be easier, yeah.”
“I’m proud of you,” Mina said lightly. She got up to wash off her hands, making sure they were properly clean. “There’s nothing wrong with scars, though. I don’t mind them. They mean you’re still here.” And Mina was also running out of room for scars, but that just meant that she was still there, too. She kneeled back down in front of Bex. “I hope you weren’t fond of this particular pair of trousers.” She let her claws slip out, using them to cut the fabric off of Bex’s leg. “Okay, I… don’t think I need to tell you that this is going to hurt, do I?”
It was strange to hear Mina say that, considering last time they’d talked about scars, she’d reminded Bex that she wore long sleeves to cover the ones on her arms. It wasn’t that Bex was proud of her own scars, but they were something physical, a reminder that she’d gone through something and survived. They were so different to the wounds her parents left on her, always so careful to never leave a scratch or scar. Nothing permanent. And yet they always felt like the most painful. The ones no one could see. Her invisible scars far outnumbered her real ones. The same violence Murphy preached. She sniffled again, wiping away more tears that had managed to surface. “No, not particularly,” she answered as she watched Mina’s hand turn into a claw, something she’d been more comfortable with lately and it made Bex proud of her. “And no, I don’t think so. I remember.” She closed her eyes and bit down on her cheek. “Just...do it fast.”
Noticing that Bex was sniffling, Mina leaned up and gave her a soft kiss, wiping away her tears as she shifted her hand back. She kneeled back down, taking something in one hand to stem the bleeding while she put her other hand on the glass. “I’ll do it fast. Count to three, right?” This was going to hurt a lot. Mina knew it was going to hurt. “One,” she pulled out the glass. “Two. Three.” She was already pressing the cloth in her hand into the wound on “two,” pressing into it and making sure that it didn’t come spurting out. “How bad was it? Be honest. I’ve never liked having to pull things out.” Though she’d gotten kind of numb to it. She remembered the stick that had been stuck in her side when she’d been stumbling through the woods. “Just give it a few minutes and then I’ll start with the stitches.”
Bex smiled softly when Mina gave her a quick kiss. She was trying her best to make this all better, but Bex didn’t know when that would be. She felt terrible and she wanted to not feel that way, especially not when she was with Mina. “Okay,” she said, squeezing her eyes shut and gripping the counter tightly. She gave a stifled cry as the glass was yanked from her leg and she bit down on her tongue to keep from cursing. She drew in a breath and let it out slowly, deflating while she did. “Bad,” she grumbled, looking down at Mina, “you never make it to three, do you?” she leaned back and let her head rest against the wall. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that.” She closed her eyes. “What would I do without you?”
“I’m sorry,” Mina said, taking one of Bex’s hands and giving it a squeeze. “It makes it easier to not make it all the way three. Everyone expects something to happen on three. It makes you less tense if it’s before.” She pulled the cloth away, pulling out what she needed from the first-aid kit, making sure that it was all sterilized. “I know. It’s not really something to get used to. I’ll be quick, though.” She knew how to be quick. It was best for both of them, to keep as much blood as possible off of herself and as much of it inside of Bex as possible. “I could ask you that, you know,” Mina said quietly. She’d missed her so much, and it had only been two days, but it had been two days of not knowing where she was or if she was okay. But Bex was here now. She was safe. She was okay.
“It’s okay,” Bex reassured, “it’s not your fault.” It was her own stupid fault, and Murphy’s fault, and maybe she kind of blamed Metzli a little bit, too. Because she’d told them she didn’t like Murphy, she’d told them that all Murphy wanted was violence and pain, but Metzli insisted she was good. And so Bex had shut her mouth. She wished she hadn’t been right about Murphy, but the evidence was wrapped around her neck. “I think you’d be fine without me,” she muttered absently, “you were doing okay before I came along.”
Mina tended to Bex’s wound quickly and effectively, making sure that there was no way that it could get infected before she bandaged it up. “I know, but I’m still sorry that you’re hurt,” she said. She moved up, focusing on Bex’s neck instead, on the wounds and bruises, and she tried very not to let that overwhelming anger overwhelm her. She shook her head. “No. I mean, fine is relative, and I… was doing okay going through the motions. But I— I wasn’t happy. I didn’t really know how to be happy. Properly happy. And you do make me properly happy. You really do. You make me feel things. Good things and bad things and just things. All the things. I felt a lot of… anxiety before. And sadness. And fear. And now I have more than that.”
“Yeah, me, too,” Bex sighed. She hadn’t expected to get hurt just checking out some mirrors, but, really, it wasn’t even the mirrors that hurt her. Maybe they saved her. Who knew what Murphy was going to do, she’d already broken one mirror and shoved Bex into another and tried to strangle her. Bex didn’t know what else she was capable of. Murder, apparently. She frowned again, looking down at Mina as she started examining her neck. “I think that’s just love,” she murmured, “that’s how I feel about you, too. I just...you’re my everything. I think my world would be empty without you.”
Mina cleaned up the wounds on Bex’s neck, something that was far quicker than her leg. “I think you’re right,” she said quietly. “That’s just love. I feel the same. I do. I do. I know I’d be rather lost without you.” She gave Bex a gentle kiss and took her hands. “What do you want to eat? I’ll order delivery for us.” She’d wait until Bex stood, and then they could go upstairs and put on something comfy, and they could order food, and they could veg out in bed for the rest of the night and maybe even the next day if Bex wanted. They could do whatever she wanted. Mina would be more than happy to do whatever she wanted.
Bex squeezed Mina’s hands back and nodded slowly. “Okay,” she said quietly, kissing her back, “I’m not going anywhere. I’m yours.” She’d say it again and again and however many times Mina needed her to say it. “How about Al’s? I think I want some greasy fries and tomato soup and a smoothie,” she said. She wanted comfort food because she wanted to be comforted. After what had happened, she just wanted to lay down in peace in her lover’s arms and pretend like everything was still okay, that nothing had ruined the happiness she’d been feeling for so long. She stood up slowly, putting a little pressure on her leg to see how bad it hurt. It hurt less, now that there wasn’t glass sticking out of it. She let out a long breath before she circled her arms around Mina and hugged her tightly, just holding her for a moment. She just wanted to hold her for a moment.
“And I’m yours,” Mina said, and it was something she needed, to hear those words and to say them and to know they were real. “Al’s sounds good to me!” And she still had a little too much energy, could already feel it building back up from all that stress and panic, and she wanted it to go away, but she wanted to be with Bex even more. And when Bex wrapped her arms around Mina tightly, she returned it, pressing her forehead to Bex’s shoulder. She was so happy Bex was okay. She lifted her head up to look Bex in the eyes, lovely and warm, and then she leaned in and kissed Bex’s cheek. “As nice as the bathroom is,” she stage whispered, “I could carry you upstairs if you’d like me to.”
Bex felt her body relaxing the longer she held Mina, even more so when arms came to circle back around her as well. She burrowed into Mina’s shoulder, her neck, breathing her in and reminding herself that this was real and concrete and it wasn’t going to go away. They’d promised each other forever and she knew they both meant it. As Mina leaned back, Bex did, too, gazing into her eyes and the soft, autumn brown that made her heart melt. She smiled, truly, genuinely, for the first time since she’d fallen into that mirror with Murphy, when Mina kissed her cheek. And maybe it was a bit childish, but Bex nodded, because she did want Mina to carry her upstairs. “I think I’d like that,” she whispered back, circling her arms back around Mina’s shoulders. “It sounds very romantic.”
Tapping Bex’s legs so that the other girl would wrap them around her waist, Mina held her up and carried her up the stairs, all the way to the bedroom before she put her down on the bed, and Mina couldn’t help herself as she leaned in and gave Bex a kiss, one hand on her cheek. She pulled away, smiling because smiling was all she could do with this girl when she felt like this, even after everything that happened because Bex was okay. She was okay. She was there and okay, and Mina was so happy that she was okay that she could burst. She said, “I’ll order our food and grab you one of my shirts from my room.” Because she knew that Bex liked her shirts, and Mina was willing to lose one of them if it meant that Bex was comfortable. It was a win-win; Mina liked seeing Bex in her clothes, too.
Bex wrapped herself around Mina and let the other girl carry her up the stairs to her bedroom-- which was practically their bedroom at this point. Mina rarely slept in her own room, and if she wasn’t sleeping with Bex, she was in the pool-- laying down gratefully after Mina set her on the bed, kissing her back. She lifted her hands to brush through Mina’s hair before caressing her face a moment. “Hurry back,” she said, smiling because Mina’s smile was just infectious to her. She couldn’t not smile if Mina was smiling, even if she was in pain and she was still thinking about what Murphy said to her. She scooted herself up on the bed and started wiggling out of her now torn and ruined jeans, guiding them slowly over the stitches now in her leg. She thought for a moment about what she might say when people asked questions. They would surely ask questions.
“As soon as I can,” Mina said, stepping out to place their order. She went ahead and changed into her own comfier clothes, a soft shirt and sweatpants, before she grabbed some clothes for Bex, too, and she headed back to the room that was all but hers, too, except she didn’t keep clothes in it. “Here,” she said, handing Bex what she’d brought back, but she didn’t give her much time to put anything as she crawled onto the bed and sat behind Bex, putting her legs on either side of her as she wrapped her in a hug and placed her chin on her shoulder. “I’m going to stay like this until I have to go downstairs to get the food,” she said, matter of factly. “I hope you don’t mind, and I hope you don’t have anywhere you need to go because you’re stuck with me for a day, at least.”
Bex looked up when Mina returned, already smiling again. She took the clothes that Mina had brought for her, pleased and warm with the thought of putting on Mina’s clothes. They always smelled like her, like fresh dew and leaves, a hint of her perfume. She was just reaching down to pull her shirt off when Mina scooted in behind her and wrapped legs and arms around her. Bex just let out a sigh, leaning back against her and putting her arms over Mina’s around her. “Only a day?” she asked, turning her head enough to see Mina’s, even if she couldn’t see her eyes. She placed a kiss on her temple. “I figured you’d want to keep me in your arms for at least a week.” And really, she didn’t think she’d mind that too much. It might make it hard to go to class, but she wasn’t really that concerned about it. “I’ll stay here as long as you want.”
“I didn’t want to get too greedy,” Mina said. She put her forehead on Bex’s shoulder again, breathing in the scent of her, something that was strictly Bex that Mina was in love with. But she was in love with all of Bex, so this made sense, of course. “A week might be too much to ask for, but I know I can get away with keeping you in bed with me for at least a day.” She let her eyes drift closed, though Mina knew she wasn’t going to be able to sleep for quite some time. Why would she sleep? She didn’t want to miss even a moment of having Bex back. It had already been a lot, going to her room, and it was going to be a lot to go grab their food, and Mina just wanted to stay right where she was, wrapped up around Bex, and maybe it was a little clingy, and a few months ago, Mina would have been desperately afraid of the idea of coming off as clingy, but now she just wanted to hold Bex. That was all.
“How about two?” Bex offered, leaning her head against Mina’s as she rest on her. “I’d say maybe the whole weekend, but I hear it’s supposed to be nice and maybe we could go out and do something one of the days?” She leaned back again, craning her neck to look back at Mina. And if it seemed a little clingy from either of them, she didn’t really care. She’d missed her and being around her and it’d only been two days, but Bex hadn’t been separated from Mina for that long in months. Not since her mother died. She didn’t like that thought so she wiped it away by turning just enough in Mina’s arms to look at her properly. “I love you,” she said again, nuzzling into her, “I want to spend the weekend with you. Just you.”
“Two sounds really good, actually,” Mina said, wrapping around Bex a little more, moving to look at Bex, though her mouth and her nose were still pressed into Bex’s shoulder. She looked at Bex with wide, happy eyes. “Would you want to go swimming? I know it’s cold, but there might be some places that are still warm. I’ll keep you warm.” She let Bex turn around and face her, giving her a soft kiss. “I love you, too. So much.” They’d make it a nice weekend, Mina was sure of that. She’d give Bex a good weekend. “It’s going to be a great weekend. It will. I’ll even promise it, if you like.” She gave Bex a bright smile, and she felt happy again, warm and buzzing in her brain like crackling fire. “All weekend. Just me. You’ll just have me.”
Bex couldn't really remember a time when Mina had looked so happy, so content. Even after what had happened, she was relaxing and she just looked so happy. Bex hadn't wanted to ruin that, she'd almost ruined it. "Yes, we can go swimming," she said with a smile, "I think that'd be nice. I mean, you'll have to teach me how if we go any deeper than I can stand, but I trust you." She leaned into the kiss, sighing happily. She'd already forgotten about the pain in her leg. "You don't have to promise that," Bex murmured, staying pressed close to her, "I know it will be. I...I think I might actually have the perfect place to go. There's something I want to show you, something I've been sort of working on." Something she'd almost forgotten about in all the chaos of Roy and Eloy and Murphy.
“I’ll teach you,” Mina said excitedly, nuzzling into Bex’s cheek. “And I’ll keep you safe.” That was all she wanted, really, to keep Bex safe. And Mina knew that she couldn’t keep Bex safe from everything; not crazy people named Murphy or dangerous vampires or torples that attack when she’s not around. But Bex would be safe with Mina. She’d always keep her safe. “Okay, I won’t promise,” she said, sighing happily as she pressed her face into Bex’s shoulder. “Where is it? What do you want to show me? What have you been working on?” Her voice was muffled against Bex’s shirt. And Bex didn’t really have to answer now. Mina was just excited to see what Bex had planned.
“I can’t wait,” Bex said, genuinely excited and happy. She’d always hated swimming and being exposed that way, but with Mina it didn’t seem daunting or terrible at all. It seemed exciting and fun and she wanted to learn, she wanted to be able to do the things Mina loved, and that included swimming. She wanted to learn for her. “If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise,” she said, before leaning back into her and kissing her, a little deeper than before, wrapping and arm around her. The butterflies in her stomach were making her feel like her insides were buzzing, she’d never felt so excited before. She heard Mina’s phone buzz and pulled away reluctantly. “Hurry back,” she said again, smiling at her. “I’m ready to start our weekend together.”
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