Thomas was sure he could find Elon’s front door with his eyes closed. It was the most familiar place that he frequented, like a second home that he would be drawn to no matter where in the world he found himself. Yet, uncharacteristically, he felt almost scared -- or maybe it wasn’t fear, maybe it was guilt -- to knock at her door.

​

          It was a strange thing; Thomas had let himself in several times when Elon wasn’t even expecting him. Today, however, he could all but sense her on the other side of the door waiting for him, but his mind cried out that he was making a mistake. He swallowed nervously and tapped at the wooden visage. It was drawn away almost immediately, and he was pulled into a tight hug.

​

          “Hey!” Elon greeted him, just as warm as ever. “I’m glad to see you’re still okay!”

​

          Thomas matched her energy the best he could. “What a coincidence; I’m also glad I’m okay!”

​

          The girl laughed and pulled him inside, closing the door behind him. She hesitated where she was for a moment, a thoughtful finger to her mouth.

​

          “Did you want to go out tonight and do something?” she asked. “Or are you still kinda spooked by the demon rabbit guy?”

​

          “This answer is going to shock you: I am still kinda spooked by the demon rabbit guy.”

​

          He was so frightened, in fact, that he hadn't returned to his own apartment since the stalker attacked him in broad daylight. Regardless of the actual peril Thomas was in, Elon was still beaming at him and giggling at his response.

​

          “No worries! We can hide inside,” she offered.

​

          And they did just that. Elon, knowing Thomas’s perfect idea of comfort, suggested they build a fort out of pillows and blankets. He eagerly agreed, so giddy about the idea that his fears were melting away. They became thieves for a moment, collecting all of the bedding in the house to hold it hostage in the living room. Couches were their columns as they built the fortress around the furniture, elaborate and colorful with Elon’s eccentric taste in blankets.

​

          When it was finally completed, Thomas and Elon barely took the time to appreciate the exterior of their masterpiece before gleefully slithering inside. It was like a maze, taking up the entire room as it sprawled and spiraled soft shapes across the floor. There was, however, an unexpected guest on the outside, foretold by the dark shadow cast on one of the thin blanket walls. Maria, with her usual confused expression, looked at the mess they had made in the living room. 

​

          “W-what’s going on here?” she stammered, scanning the area for Elon’s blonde hair.

​

          Instead, Thomas was the one who poked his head out, armed with a balled up sock. He launched it at her, and she flinched at its soft impact. Snickering, he ducked back down under the safety of the surrounding sheets.

​

          “Hey!” Maria shouted. “Knock it off, you’re acting like children.”

​

          Finally, Elon emerged, an apologetic smile on her face. Maria visibly relaxed, but still looked exhausted.

​

          “Sorry, Maria! I’ll have this cleaned up by tomorrow,” Elon told her. “Thomas is having a bad week, this is really important.”

​

          “Yeah, I need to be inside of a blanket fort at all times,” Thomas shouted, his voice muffled by the blankets that hid him. “Doctor’s orders.”

​

          He, too, emerged shortly after and inspected Maria’s unhappy face.

​

          “Uh. Different doctor,” he amended. “My roommate is also a doctor.”

​

          “I’m not a doctor,” Maria said.

​

          Thomas pointed at her. “Not with that attitude!” He shooed her away with an aggressive hand. “Get out of here. Or you can come in, if you want, but you have to be nice.”

​

          Maria didn’t budge. “I’m absolutely not going in there, you lunatic.”

​

          The redhead sighed and rubbed her eyes, then turned towards the door.

​

          “I’ve got to go to work, Elon,” she said on her way out. “Make sure he doesn’t break anything, okay?”

​

          “I love you, Maria!” Elon called after her.

​

          “I love you too!” Thomas chimed in. “Be safe! Have a good day at work!” The door slammed shut. “Oh my god she sucks.”

​

          “Hey! She does not.” Elon turned her face up and away from him. “She’s awesome.”

​

          Then, she looked around at their work in belated appreciation. A sincere smile formed on her face.

​

          “This is nice, though,” she told him. “I do feel like we’re kids again, except you’re too tall. You need to shrink because you’re ruining my immersion!”

​

          “Sure thing.” Thomas gave her a thumbs up. “Grab me a hacksaw and I’ll get rid of my shins.” 

​

          Her laughter always warmed his heart. For a moment, Thomas had forgotten his worries.

​

          “Oh, wait!” he gasped, suddenly. “I forgot, I’m magic.”

​

          With stars in her eyes, Elon watched as Thomas cast a sparkling illusion on both of them. In a flash, they both appeared as their younger selves, nearly the same height, as they were when they first met. Elon was overjoyed, but Thomas had failed to conceal his own festering thoughts.

​

          “Hey-- why do you look sad?” she asked him, the light fading from her eyes.

​

          Thomas perked up. “Oh, I was just in character. I think I was a sad kid, right?”

​

          Unsurprisingly, Elon didn’t buy his excuse. “I don’t think you’ve changed that much, you know.”

​

          “Maybe not,” Thomas admitted. “But at least I’m tall now.”

​

          As he spoke, the glamour faded and they returned to their present selves.

​

          The smile returned. “God I wish I was tall. Can you imagine?” Elon gasped. “What if we were the same height?”

​

          “That would be horrifying,” remarked the faerie. “My posture would probably be better, though, because I wouldn’t be hunching over to speak to all you shorties so often.” Thomas jabbed an accusatory finger at Elon, but she smacked it away.

​

          “Are you staying here tonight?” she asked. “It would be like a proper slumber party!” 

​

          “No, I actually told Ifrit I’d be spending the night with him.”

​

          With narrow eyes, Elon whistled at him. “Ooh, okay!” she said, prodding his arm with her finger. “You should bring him to a double date sometime. I think Sam and him would get along!”

​

          He laughed. “You think everyone would get along. But, you might have a point…”

​

          When the thought formed, however, Thomas waved a dismissive hand and shook his head.

​

          “Wait! No, no double date!” he protested. “We aren’t dating!” 

​

          “You and your labels.” Elon snickered.

​

          Thomas pointed at her. “No labels! We are label-less!” he insisted. “We’re just fucking!”

​

          At his language, Elon shrieked and hit him with a pillow. It bounced softly off of him, barely making him flinch. He sneered at her feeble attack, but then suddenly became aware of the time.

​

          “Speaking of which, I must get going.”

​

          Thomas scrambled out of the fort and stood near the door, waiting for Elon to follow. When she did, they hugged, and she unlocked the door. The weight of his decision was creeping up on him slowly. His eyes lingered on her until she became visibly concerned.

​

          “Hey,” he began, “you’re going to be okay if I leave, right?” 

​

          There was no way she could have known what he really meant.

​

          “Of course! You can do whatever you want.” Elon gave him an assuring smile. “Don’t worry about me.”

​

          Still, he had heard what he needed to. Thomas forced a smile, but his eyes didn’t comply.

​

          “You should probably text Sam back,” he suggested.

​

          Clearly, this confused Elon. “What?” she stammered, “but she hasn’t--”

​

          Checking her phone, however, made Elon blush. As he had predicted, there were a few missed messages from Sam waiting for her. 

         

          “Ah! I’m so forgetful,” Elon gasped, still staring at the screen. “Thank you! Maybe I’ll have plans tonight after all.”

​

          When she looked up at him, it was clear that the distraction had cheered her up. 

​

          “See you later!” she said as he walked outside.

​

          He waved back. “Bye Elon, I love you!”

​

          Shutting the door behind him, Thomas looked out at the empty street. Even with summer approaching, he felt so cold.

​

--

​

          There had been a noticeable influx among demon attacks. Though Jonathan and Isaac had expected as much, the reality was still far from what they had hoped. Elon had been helping out the best she could, and Jonathan had to admit, Eden was keeping the vampires uncharacteristically docile. At least that was a small victory.

​

          Having grown up together, Jonathan and Isaac were a near perfect team when it came to fighting; Jonathan was the cautious one with the plan, and Isaac was their ultimate celestial weapon with his ability to easily fell demons. That was usually the case, anyway, but not lately since Isaac had been stubbornly ignoring Jonathan’s input altogether. 

​

          A dribble of blood on the ground caught Jonathan’s attention. He followed it where it led into a secluded alleyway. Slowly, he peered around the corner and spotted their prey; several beastly figures hunched over an animal carcass. He swallowed nervously, but knew Isaac could read him like a book. Originally, Jonathan had thought Isaac’s reckless behavior was simply his urge to show off in front of Elon, but even when they were alone, as they were now, his brother continued to barge into danger. 

​

          It was almost expected, then, when Isaac bolted after them without a second to spare. Jonathan groaned and chased after him, trying to call his name, but was cut off by a few of the creatures turning their attention to him. Grumbling and keeping low, Jonathan lashed at them with the chain, an arc of glimmering silver slicing through them. After a few whimpered and collapsed, the rest kept their distance, growling with a guttural sound towards the priest.

​

          Jonathan warily watched Isaac, who was still several feet away. They had been so out of sync lately; it often felt like they were fighting near each other rather than with each other. Realizing that Isaac was staying put, Jonathan figured he would have to cut closer himself.

​

          The demons weren’t weak, but they weren’t fully conscious-- they were lower entities that had undoubtedly drifted into town in search of the sickly woods. As such, it wasn’t the most difficult task to outsmart them, given that they acted like wild beasts. This wasn’t as much of a dangerous fight as it was exterminating pests, Jonathan mused, as he slowly made his way towards his brother. 

​

          The surrounding demons stepped back, away from his path, until one would get bold enough to lunge at him. They were always swiftly struck, falling away to fester. Regardless, the others didn’t seem to catch on to the pattern and kept attempting their feeble assaults. Even with their inky, blackened forms, they still splattered red when sliced through. It was the worst part of the job for Jonathan, though it didn’t seem as though the gore bothered Isaac much.

​

          Most of the demons had already been slayed at this point. An impressive pile of the deformed, rapidly decaying bodies encircled where Isaac stood. He was panting with a slight tremble from over exhaustion, but the darkened look in his eye was still fiery. Some of the more frightened demons had whimpered and tried to escape, but were promptly smote before they got the chance. Jonathan couldn’t help staring, or maybe he was gawking, at the sight. That’s when he felt a tickle on the back of his neck, and saw Isaac turn towards him, his eyes shifting from fury to clear, unadulterated panic.

​

          In a blur, Isaac had closed the distance between them and roughly shoved Jonathan aside. Barely comprehending what had happened, Jonathan braced himself against the pavement. By the time he had turned back towards his brother, Isaac was standing with his back to him, an impressively large demon shrieking with the light staff piercing through its neck. The weapon disintegrated, and without the support, the creature fell with a soft thud.

​

          Jonathan huffed, but smiled from where he sat on the dampened concrete. “What, did you want to get the last kill that badly?” he jested.

​

          But Isaac didn’t answer. He just trembled, his head low. When he fell forward onto his knees, Jonathan leapt up with a sickening feeling in his gut and rushed to help.

​

          “What’s wrong?” he asked, but the answer was clear from the moment he knelt down.

​

          Despite how tightly Isaac’s arms were wrapped around his abdomen, Jonathan could still see the slick, dark gashes that the demon had left. The most alarming sign that Isaac was seriously injured was the fact that he was absolutely silent as he held himself, face tilted down and hidden under his fringe.

​

​

​

          Luckily -- though it was odd to call it luck -- Isaac had stayed conscious for long enough to get somewhere safe. Jonathan was used to patching his brother up, but the three, ragged claw-marked had penetrated so deeply that he found his own stomach betraying him at the sight. Surely, this was the worst part of the job.

​

          While it was a known fact that Isaac’s angelic heritage allowed him to heal quickly and to survive otherwise fatal blows, neither of them truly knew the limit. After all, that wasn’t something that either of them could necessarily test. This wound would definitely be an indicator, however, and Jonathan anxiously awaited any kind of life from Isaac beyond his shallow breathing. 

​

          It took a while, but eventually, his brother was stirring restlessly in his sleep. Once it was known that Isaac wasn’t on death’s door, Jonathan’s anxiety shifted back to frustration. As relieved as he was, he couldn’t help but scowl at Isaac when his eyes slowly fluttered open.

​

          Isaac was finally awake again, offering a sheepish and apologetic smile like he had gotten caught staying up too late-- like he couldn’t have cared less. It was almost as if this was a gift he had given Jonathan; a hint at his own martyrdom, how he would put himself in needless danger if he thought it might protect someone else. But, they weren’t kids playing games anymore, and Isaac had never been invincible, even if he often seemed to forget that fact.

​

          Jonathan shook his head. “Damn it, Isaac,” he groaned, putting a hand to his forehead. “I can’t believe you did that! It’s like you don’t listen to a thing I say."

​

          It was rich, then, when Isaac had the gull to look offended by Jonathan’s mild outburst. He waved a dismissive hand and rolled his eyes.

​

          “It’s fine,” Isaac told him. “I’m fine.”

​

          “It’s absolutely not fine!” With restless energy, Jonathan found himself pacing in circles as he spoke. “You’ve been so reckless lately. It’s like you’re doing this on purpose--”

​

          The words had snuck up on him. The realization did, too, and he had stopped walking. Jonathan looked at Isaac, a newfound pain in his chest.

​

          “...Are you?”

​

          Isaac blinked at him. “What?”

​

          “Are you trying to hurt yourself, Isaac?” The clarification was hard to say outright and Jonathan’s voice strained.

​

          Apparently shocked by the directness of his question, Isaac’s breath hitched, then returned at a slow, drawn out pace. Without an immediate response, Jonathan felt more and more uneasy in the silence. Isaac had to force some kind of answer.

 

          “Of course not,” he told him, but his voice was small.

​

          Jonathan reeled back with a dull laugh. “Oh my god. You’re not even convincing. What’s been going on? Why have you been acting so weird lately?”

​

          “I’m acting weird?” Isaac clenched his fists into the sheets. “You’re the one who’s constantly on my back for every slipup I make!”

​

          Somewhere between dumbfounded and offended, Jonathan eyed Isaac up and down. It was clear that these were no slipups; Isaac had been putting himself in mortal danger. Jonathan’s disbelief disappeared behind an austere veil.

​

          “Yeah. How dare I.” His voice was even and horribly flat.

​

          Visibly flustered, Isaac stammered as he tried to backtrack. “I-- I didn’t--”

​

          Jonathan didn’t give him the opportunity. “Do you know what it’s like to constantly worry about your safety?” he asked, his eyes fiery and fixed on his younger brother. “Do you know how many times I’ve rehearsed the call I’m going to have to make to our parents if something bad happens to you? God, how can I be responsible for you when you don’t even care about yourself?”

​

          Isaac retreated within himself, shutting down like he always did whenever he was in the wrong. After letting the shame linger above him for a while longer, Jonathan let out a long sigh and softened. Even if he knew the walls would be up for a while now, he couldn’t leave on a bad note.

​

          “If you don’t want to talk to me about it, that’s fine,” Jonathan said, but he wasn’t looking at Isaac anymore. “I just hope you have someone you can lean on.”

​

          “I’m sorry.” Isaac sounded colder than usual. “Would you mind leaving me alone for a bit?”

​

          Though the response was unexpected, Jonathan tried to hide his hurt. After all, Isaac probably didn’t want him staying around just to continue scolding him.  

​

          Jonathan nodded. “If you want,” he said, and then turned to leave.

​

--

​

          The sound of someone furiously knocking at Ifrit’s bedroom door was startling and frantic. Regardless, the witch remained calm and took his time making his way over to the noise and turning the handle. Slowly, he revealed Iris standing in the doorway, visibly distressed. 

​

          “Did you just let Thomas in--” 

​

          The answer to her question came in the form of Thomas waving at her on Ifrit’s bed. She grimaced and looked back at Ifrit.

​

          “Can you two please be quiet?” she begged, her voice teetering between determination and exhaustion.

​

          The way Ifrit smirked at her told her enough and she groaned. He crossed his arms, which was a smug gesture he was overusing ever since he had his cast finally removed. She objected, furiously, to their perceived plans. 

​

          “Listen,” Ifrit explained, “I’ll take it into consideration, but it’s not up to me.”

​

          Displeased with the answer, Iris rattled on, calling her brother a few mild insults along the way. This only fueled his rascality. When she sensed her pleas were falling on deaf ears, she pushed her brother aside and crept into the room. With palms up, she addressed Thomas where he lounged.

​

          “Please,” she strained. “I have to wake up extra early tomorrow and I can’t sleep through your--” her shyness caught up with her before she could finish the thought. “Your activities!” She blushed.

​

          Thomas nodded thoughtfully. “I’ll try my best.”

​

          Pouting at the disingenuous comment, Iris gave up and stormed out of the room. She slammed the door behind her. Ifrit immediately started to chuckle to himself.

​

          “I thought we were actually just hanging out tonight,” Thomas noted. 

​

          Ifrit nodded. “I had no other plans for you tonight, faerie. I just wanted company, and I know you didn’t want to be alone.”

​

          “Why are you speaking in past tense?”

​

          The witch made one of Thomas’s favorite faces and smirked devilishly. He sat up in anticipation. 

​

          “I have new plans,” Ifrit clarified. 

​

          The impish grin on the witch’s face was frightening to Thomas, yet he found himself so intrigued he couldn’t look away. However, Ifrit had not immediately let him in on his new plans. Instead, he waited, talking idly with Thomas, until he was sure that Iris was settled down and in bed. That’s when Ifrit began bouncing in place, moving the mattress up and down as the bed creaked noisily. Puzzled, Thomas cocked his head, but his eyes grew wide as Ifrit began banging a fist against the wall and moaning.

​

          “Thomas -- ah! -- oh my god!”

​

          And then he was still, returning to normal as if nothing had happened. Thomas, however, remained befuddled at his charade, feeling his face heat up as he flushed. As if his reaction was the strange one, Ifrit raised an eyebrow at him.

​

          “Are you feeling all right, Thomas?” he asked.

​

          The faerie shook off his bewilderment. “That’s an intimate question to ask.” He grinned at Ifrit, but it was more forced than usual. “Are you catching feelings for me? You better knock it off.”

​

          “And just like that, I’ve stopped caring.”

​

          After making a face at him, Ifrit fell backwards onto his bed and stared at the ceiling. Thomas watched him quietly, his smile fading quickly. He felt tired; so tired. 

​

          At the lack of a sarcastic remark, Ifrit leered at Thomas. He looked suspicious, and a little concerned.

​

          “You’ve just been strangely civil today,” he suggested.

​

          The theatrics returned. “Hey, there’s only two of us-- I have to be the straight man sometimes,” Thomas explained, winking, “and you had a good bit going with the whole annoying Iris thing.”

​

          With a returning grin, Ifrit sat up and rocked the bed once more.

​

          “Don’t stop,” he gasped, even louder this time, “please!”

​

          The moment he settled back down, the mischievous look in his eyes disappeared. Ifrit regarded Thomas soberly.

​

          “We’re not a comedy duo,” he said. 

​

          Feeling reinvigorated by Ifrit’s absurd humor, Thomas made a wild gesture. “Well maybe we should be!”

​

          Ifrit sneered at him with a taunting smile. “Now who’s sounding intimate?”

​

          Without a response to offer, Thomas prodded at the mattress. His mind wandered until Ifrit’s previous concern echoed in his mind. He sighed heavily and closed his eyes.

​

          “I think I’m just a little exhausted, that’s all,” Thomas said dryly. “Being chased by a scary rabbit demon is hard work. You know, I only had one nap today.” He gave a weak smile at the end.

​

          “Sounds horrible.” Even Ifrit’s sarcasm sounded unnaturally sincere. 

​

          The witch watched him carefully, the same alien look of concern returning to his face, despite how hard he tried to hide it. 

​

          “Well, you’re free to do whatever you want, faerie,” Ifrit said, waving a blasé hand in the air. “You can even sleep-- as long as you can sleep through this--”

​

          For the third time, Ifrit shook the bed and made it creak. For some reason, no matter how often he repeated the joke, it caught Thomas off guard every time.

​

          “Y-yes! Just like that!”

​

          This time, however, Thomas couldn’t help but stifle a laugh. He played along.

​

          “Ifrit, you have to be quiet,” he groaned, ironically even louder than Ifrit. “Iris is trying to sleep!”

​

          “I can’t help it!” Ifrit moaned through panting breaths. “You’re making it t-too hard!”

​

          They snickered, trying to contain their laughter, until they heard Iris scream in the other room. Thomas whistled, pleased with their performance. With a stretch, the faerie laid down and rested his head on one of Ifrit’s pillows.

​

          He glanced over at Ifrit and yawned. “Aren’t you usually asleep by now, anyway?”

​

          “Do you want me to join you?” It was an honest question.

​

          Thomas shook his head and closed his eyes. “I just want you to keep an eye on me, you know, in case the demon rabbit appears again,” he said.

​

          In reality, there was very little chance of anything getting inside of the flat. Powerful wards kept supernatural entities away; powerful locks kept the physical threats away. They were thoroughly protected, and they both knew it. There was a clear smile in Ifrit’s voice when he spoke.

​

          “Of course,” he said. “I’ll do my best.”

​

          As much as he wanted to smile to himself at Ifrit’s company, Thomas couldn’t manage anything at all. He blinked at the ceiling, his eyes feeling heavier and heavier. Finally, he shut them, and tried desperately to fall asleep.

​

--

​

          This time, Isaac had to admit, he was still in a lot of physical pain. The bandages wrapped tightly around the deep gashes on his chest added an appreciated pressure to the wounds, but they did little to stop their itching and burning as his body rapidly tried to heal them. It took everything he had to not claw at the spot, as if that would stop the sensation rather than amplifying it. 

​

          More painful still, Jonathan’s disappointed words echoed in Isaac’s head. He yearned for any kind of distraction to remove him from his current situation. Frustrated with both his physical and mental discomfort, he put his hands to his face and groaned. Eden, who was once again in his bedroom, rested a gentle hand on his shoulder.

​

          “I understand his concern; this has been happening more often lately, hasn’t it?” she asked.

​

          Isaac dropped his hands and looked at the ceiling. “I guess,” he said, “but I don’t know how I’m responsible for how many creatures try to attack us.”

​

          He exhaled deeply and shut his eyes.

​

          “Jonathan said he thinks I’m doing this on purpose,” he told her in a quiet voice.

​

          She didn’t miss a beat. “Was he right?”

​

          Isaac shook his head. “I don’t know.” He had never felt so defeated. His entire body felt painfully heavy. “What’s wrong with me?”

​

          “Nothing, Isaac,” Eden said as she reached down to touch his wrist. “You’re perfect.” 

​

          Her cold hands sent shivers down his spine, but he welcomed them. Eden lifted his wrist to her mouth and waited, eyes imploring him for an answer. He nodded, just barely, and she bit into the skin. The sensation was strange and his head spun, but there was no pain; she was always so delicate.

​

          Lightheaded, Isaac dipped his head down. “I feel like I’m broken,” he murmured, giving her a sideways glance. “God, why am I even telling you this?”

​

          The vampire detached from him, careful not to spill a drop of his blood. She quickly patched up the new puncture wounds and swallowed hard. The sound made him shudder, an involuntary protest from his injured body. She looked at him, smiling pleasantly, a new glow flushing through her skin.

​

          “You know you can’t disappoint me,” she purred, her eyes freshly dazed.

​

          From his wrist, she found his hands and placed them in her own. He watched her, feeling numb, but he figured that was better than the pain.

​

          “Maybe that’s it,” he said dryly.

​

          In her pleasant new state of mind, Eden leaned in and kissed him. The taste of his own blood lingered on her tongue. There might have been a time when the metallic tang would have rightfully revolted him, but he had grown too accustomed to it-- he expected it. She broke away from him, grinning ear-to-ear. 

​

          “Hey, Eden,” he said gently.

​

          The vampire turned towards him, readjusting her body to straddle him as he sat with his legs dangling off of the bed. His hands found her waist, warming the cold skin with his own body heat. It had all grown so familiar. She leaned towards him, her mouth hovering inches away from his.

​

          “Yes, dear?” she whispered.

​

          “Do you mind leaving out the window this time?”

​

          She chuckled. “Of course, don’t worry about it.”

​

          They were together again, Eden’s fingers tangling in Isaac’s hair as she held him close. Somewhere nearby, Isaac heard his phone buzzing. He ignored it as his mind wandered somewhere else.