Another multi-part fic that got stuck in my brain. Everyone cross your fingers and hope for a smooth ride!
Leaning over the bathroom sink, Aaron pulled the wad of toilet paper he'd been pressing against his nose. It wasn't as bloody as before, which was a good sign. Grimacing, the teen ran a tongue over his front teeth and noted with satisfaction that he still had all of his. He was pretty sure the other guy couldn't say the same. In fact, he was pretty sure Phil Marley had probably a grand's worth of dental work in front of him. But no doubt by Monday, Phil would be back in school, his teeth as pristine as before, having told his father the loss of two front teeth was the result of a wayward field hockey stick. Aaron's cheek still throbbed from where Phil had gotten in a punch.
A sucker punch is what, he thought, angrily.
It would be one thing to Aaron if Phil had confronted him before launching into a full on fist fight. But leaping out from the corner to land the first blow had been sneaky and underhanded. Much like Phil Marley himself. Thinking on it now, Aaron only wished he'd gotten in a last few kicks before he'd been pulled off.
Trust Fund Fucker can't even fight fairly.
The light above Aaron's head flickered suddenly and blew out, leaving the empty boys' bathroom a little darker. With a sigh, the teenager tossed the bloody tissues in the trash and picked up his uniform jacket from where he'd left it draped over the sink. The gold and blue school crest on his breast pocket was torn and hanging on by a few threads. Aaron remembered some duct tape he had left over at home and ripped off the crest completely and pushed it into his pocket to reattach later. He glanced at himself one last time in the mirror, shouldered his backpack and exited.
"Aaron, you okay?"
The student had gotten two steps before the familiar voice stopped him. Aaron grinned, despite his still sore cheek protesting. "Yeah, Phil just wanted to discuss a few things with me," he replied.
Like him, Neil was still dressed in their school's uniform, though unlike Aaron, Neil's jacket managed to look brand new despite being years old. The other senior studied the swollen nose and growing black eye and grimaced. "Discuss what? Your face's density to that of a wall?"
"You're a riot, Lancaster," Aaron ha ha'd with as much fake enthusiasm as he was capable. "Thanks to me, Marley's dentist's going to get himself a nice new car." It was a joke meant to wipe out the look on Neil's face, but it only persisted. "It was just a stupid fight," said Aaron. "Guy couldn't even win after sucker punching me."
"What did you say to him?" asked Neil.
"What makes you think I said anything?" Aaron demanded.
"Because you always say something, Aaron. It's not like Andy Barnes tried to kick your teeth in last week for nothing."
While Aaron knew in his mind it was true that Barnes most likely attacked him for making that crack about being a product of an incestuous union, he wasn't in the mood to hear Neil's very logical deductions. His face still hurt and now he had a headache to go alone with everything else. "Good to know you've got my back," he stated, coldly.
"Aaron, come on."
"I mean, it couldn't possible be that Phil took a swing at me because he's a dick."
"I didn't mean it like it was your fault," Neil defended. "Why're you getting so pissed?"
"Might have something to do with nearly eating some cement today," Aaron retorted. "And then getting interrogated by my best friend who's apparently siding with Phil Marley."
Neil crossed his arms in a defensive pose that was so characteristically him that it managed to not look ridiculous. "I'm not siding with anyone. Especially not Phil."
"So you agree he's a dick?"
"Dude, I've been going to the same school as Phil since we were in kindergarten. I know he's a dick. Guy ate my play doh when we were five."
At that, Aaron cracked a small smile. "Got news for you. He's still doing it."
Neil shook his head, but couldn't help the grin. "Explains a few things," he said, giving into the joke if it meant not having to continue arguing with Aaron. "You need a lift anywhere?" he asked. "Like a hospital?"
"It's not that bad," Aaron replied, rolling his eyes.
"So that's not blood on your shirt and tie?" said Neil, pointing to the stains on Aaron's clothes.
Aaron yanked off his tie and stuffed it in his pocket. "You've just got a low threshold for gore. This is nothing."
"Yeah, I forget. You're from south side," said Neil, sarcastically. "You sure you don't want a ride somewhere?"
"I gotta head to the library," said Aaron. He shrugged on his now crest-less jacket and buttoned it to hide most of the brown streaks on the white shirt front. He was pretty sure the school's librarian wasn't going to appreciate the idea of a bloodied student pawing through her books. "Papers to write."
"Papers?" Neil frowned a moment before realization dawned. "You're going to get caught one day, you know," he reprimanded lightly.
"Man's gotta make a living," Aaron shrugged. "We can't all have trust funds."
It was Neil's turn to roll his eyes at the constantly made statement. "Whatever. You're welcome to swing by later for dinner if you want. Unless you need to be home."
"Hm, let's see," Aaron mused. "Your mom's brisket or watching Diane's face time with Jack Daniels at Casa del Fuller. This is a tough one."
Neil grinned. "I'll see you at six."
"Later, Lancaster," Aaron waved off before leaving to head toward the library. Turning to walk in the opposite direction, Neil pulled out his cell phone to make a quick call and realized the thin electronic had died. He pressed on a few buttons to no avail, frowning as he was sure he'd charged it only this morning. Flipping it over, he pulled out the battery and saw the metal itself was burnt and blackened.
Two weeks later…
It had been a debate for Harry whether or not to take his car. Chicago was having a particularly sunny day so the wizard had thought a walk to his latest client's house might be nice. But now, having to walk all the way back to his apartment, carrying his hockey stick while being conspicuously covered in pixie guts, he berated himself for not just driving. With each step, he could hear the faint squelch of what were probably the remnants of a pixie's digestive system in his shoe. And the wind was starting to dry the bluish gore in his hair.
God, I'm going to need to shower for the next week. The wizard felt something globular and cold run down from the nape of his neck, down the back of his shirt. Make that a month.
The only things on Harry's person that weren't stained blue were the very green bills his client had handed over for exterminating the annoying things from the garage. The wizard made a mental note to ask Bob when he got back and de-contaminated himself if there was any other way to get rid of pixies that wasn't quite as explosive with such a high splatter factor. But for all his troubles, Harry did have some money now, though he wondered how much of it would have to go into dry cleaning. It might be cheaper to just buy a new jacket.
As he continued to have this debate to keep his mind off the strange looks he was getting, Harry rounded the corner onto his street. The wizard never felt so happy to see his door and the promise of a shower. Only there was someone standing outside the locked storefront. Harry eyed the kid who looked about 18 or so, loitering by the door. Even from this distance, the wizard could tell the boy looked a little uncomfortable and was only hesitantly tapping at the window pane, peering in.
"Can I help you?" asked Harry, walking up behind him.
The younger man turned around and started at Harry's appearance. Behind him, Harry caught a glimpse of himself in the reflection of his window and saw the gunk on his head had hardened and sculpted his hair into a mass of pointy spikes.
"Um…are you Harry Dresden? The wizard?" asked the teenager, hesitantly.
"Yeah, that's me," Harry answered, tiredly. Reaching past him, he unlocked his door after several attempts with his slime-covered keys and let himself in. To his annoyance, the teen followed him in. "Listen, kid, I don't know what fraternity hazing you're doing this for, but I've had a rough day. So if you can come back tomorrow you can try and steal all the frogs' eyes you want," Harry said.
Instead of leaving, the teenager only shouldered his backpack. "I'm not in a fraternity," he said. "I'm still in high school."
Harry dumped his wet hockey stick on the floor, making sure it was far away from his rug. He took another look at the kid and saw that the new arrival was wearing what could be a prep school uniform with the navy blazer, emblazed with a crest on his breast pocket. The pressed clothing along with his neatly brushed dark hair, gave him an overall tidy appearance that reminded Harry all the more that he was currently covered in blue slime. And while clients were something the wizard couldn't really afford to turn away, at the moment he was willing to put anything on hold to just wash the supernatural massacre off of himself.
"I don't do love potions and I don't have any spells to help you cheat on tests," he listed, pulling off his jacket and dropping it next to his staff. "You're gonna have to get a prom date and pass a test the hard way."
"I'm not here for that," said the teenager, finally sounding annoyed.
"So what are you here for?"
"A friend of mine might be in trouble," he said.
Harry paused in prying off one of his shoes to study the younger man with a little more scrutiny. "What kind of trouble?"
The teen hesitated. "I'm not entirely sure," he said, uneasily. "It's…it's a little weird."
"Weird is usually the normal in my line of work."
"Yeah, that's kind of why I thought maybe you could help him," he nodded.
"So define weird," said Harry, trying to toe his other shoe off at the heel.
The younger man pressed his lips together, hesitating again as he fought to choose his words carefully. "Well," he began. "I think I saw Aaron set fire to our headmaster's car….uh…with his mind."
Harry's shoe hit the floor with a muffled thud. The wizard blinked, taking in the information. Finally, he reached down to pull off one of his socks. "What's your name?" he asked.
"Neil Lancaster," answered Neil.
"Okay, Neil Lancaster," nodded Harry. "Have a seat over there." He gestured toward a wooden chair with his sock-filled hand. "Give me a minute to wash some of this stuff off and we'll have a talk."