Disclaimer: I do not own anything from the Sorcerer's Apprentice. Those rights belong to Jerry Brukheimer and Disney.
Author's Note: This is the second chapter of the reworking of What Promise?, and unless otherwise specified in the notes, all other chapters are still the same. I hope that by showing the perspective of the other characters, it allows the story to develop and flow more naturally, with less confusion. As always, enjoy!
Pairings: Drake/Dave, minor Becky/Dave
Clack! Clang! Clack! Clang!
Mops and brooms, cans and bottles: all were flung through the corridors of the station house with little regard, each soaring through the air before plummeting to the earth, the haze of magic fleeing from their forms. In the span fifteen minutes, Dave had practically destroyed his only haven and was no closer to his goal than he been from the start.
All he wanted to was scream; however, he knew that if he started, he'd never be able to stop.
"Where did I leave that stupid book?" He groaned, pinching his eyebrows in a vain attempt to thwart an oncoming migraine.
After analyzing his current circumstances, he knew the only course of action left to him was be to find his Encantus; deep in the pages of that ancient tome, he knew there had to be a solution to yesterday's disaster. The only trouble was finding the blasted thing however, as he quickly discovered. He searched the station house high and low, from the cage to the restrooms, only to return empty handed.
If he didn't find it soon, no amount of magic could divert his fate; yesterday's repercussions would be set in stone, and not even the blood of Merlin could save him.
He was so preoccupied with his thoughts that he didn't notice the shift in space, particles changing and stretching into form, the air trembling with undercurrents of electricity. Moments later, the hazy outline of a figure appeared, his leather trench coat whispering against the stone floor as he emerged from the depths.
"How about in the capable hands of your master?"
Dave's stomach plummeted as he wheeled around, all the color draining from his skin when he caught sight of his mentor. A wry grin graced Balthazar's lips at his reaction, his eyes glittering underneath the brim of his hat; as far as he was concerned, it was always good to keep his apprentice on his toes.
"Balthazar! Wh-what're you doing here, right now?"
"What no, 'How are you, Balthazar?'. Oh I'm fine, thanks for asking Dave."
Dave took a moment to compose himself, casting a wary eye at his mentor as he racked his brain, trying to think of any cause for this impromptu visit.
Despite the months that had lapsed since their last encounter, Balthazar still retained his oh so charming attitude, if the constant sarcasm was any indication. If Dave was being truthful though, he was almost glad for his crassness; it was a reminder that some things stayed constant, despite everything else that had spiraled out of his control. Still, Balthazar being here could mean anything, especially now that he had a newly reawakened Veronica in tow.
Speaking of which…
"Where's Veronica?" Dave asked curiously, as his eyes roved over the empty space beside the Merlinian, further emphasizing his point
"She's staying in London for a bit, catching up on life. I'm supposed to be there with her, but I figured I'd check in on my little apprentice and see how he's doing." Balthazar tilted his head at the last part, fingers hanging in the air in the mockery of quotations.
"Oh, you didn't have to do that." Dave paused, discreetly kicking a stray can out of sight, trying to keep his tone casual and dismissive. "I'm doing fine."
"I can see that." Balthazar said, raising a pointed eyebrow at Dave, who had the decency to appear somewhat ashamed.
With a cautious eye, he strode over the heaps of garbage and cleaning supplies that littered the floor, until he was directly in front of his apprentice. Reaching inside the depths of his jacket, he produced a miniaturized tome, the cover glowing in the prescience of it's true master.
"Now then, weren't you looking for this?"
Dave could feel the sweat beginning to bead on his forehead as his eyes skittered to and fro, landing anywhere but on Balthazar. Only one thought currently ran through his mind; he was completely and utterly busted.
"Yea-no, no I was just trying to uh, clean the place up a little bit."
"Yes, I can tell, you've done an excellent job of that." Balthazar said, as he gestured around the room with his free hand, his arm splayed wide before dropping to his side; trainee or not, he wasn't going to hold back any punches.
"Now why do you suddenly want this? If I recall correctly and I always do, you said, 'I'm the Prime Merlanian, I don't really think I need a training manual' and left it sitting on the floor to be piddled on." At the end of his statement, Balthazar's features scrunched up with distaste as he surveyed the area for the dog in question, before returning his gaze to his anxious apprentice.
"I uh, I just need it for, that is to say, a uh… a time traveling spell?" Dave's voice was no more than a whisper by the time he finished his sentence, as he nervously rubbed the back of his neck, desperately hoping that Balthazar was more than a little deaf in one of his ears.
Unfortunately for Dave, despite his age, the older Merlinian still retained an immaculate sense of hearing.
Balthazar furrowed his brow, his expression growing more severe by the second, as Dave made a mental note to never try his hand at gambling. With the way his luck had been going, that route would only lead him to financial to ruin.
The older Merlinian let out a sharp sigh before pocketing the Encantus and Dave was suddenly struck by how much he looked his true age. There was something so weary in the set of his shoulders, all the centuries of struggle etched across the lines of his frame; disappointment was almost like a second skin to Balthazar.
"If that's what you were searching for Dave, I'm afraid you would have only met with disappointment. Time travel is Morganian in origin. When you mess with natural order of the world, it can lead to rather unpleasant side effects." There was a grim shade of mirth to his voice when he looked back up at his apprentice, dashing any shred of hope left in Dave.
"Why were you even looking for that spell?"
All his of fears, all of his desperation, seemed to bubble to the surface; Dave could feel his flimsy veneer crumble at his feet as a cry wrenched it's way free from his throat.
"It's Becky, Balthazar! I just, I have to stop something from happening."
Balthazar's stance softened as he watched his pupil breakdown, leeching away the majority of his frustration he felt over the boy's actions. So much power had been thrust upon Dave's shoulders and along with it, came several centuries worth of expectations, most of them stemming from himself.
Sometimes, even he forgot that his apprentice was little more than a child, prone to acting upon impulse and emotion, still lacking the clarity of age.
"What happened Dave?"
The words well up in Dave's throat as he darted his gaze away from Balthazar, shame and guilt coursing through him. The older Merlinian shook his head as he walked towards the front of the stationhouse and took a seat on the ancient stairwell, peering at Dave from behind interlaced fingers.
"Dave, whatever happened, you need to be honest with her. Causing rifts in the flow of time isn't going to solve any of your problems."
Dave bit his lip, his eyes still steadfastly fixed on anything that wasn't Balthazar, mulling over his mentor's words. Deep down, he knew he was right. Whatever his reasons, interfering with the clockwork of the universe wasn't a good solution. In fact, it would probably only make things worse; hadn't years of watching science fiction taught him anything?
He was just so desperate for things to go back to the way they were, he hadn't cared about the consequences.
"Becky heard about an incident that happened a while ago." He finally admitted, looking up to see Balthazar motioning to the space beside him, his brows furrowed together in concentration.
"What kind of incident?"
"The kind of incident that involves lips and smooching noises." Dave mumbled as he took a seat beside Balthazar, angling his hands together in a mockery of the action.
"I'm assuming you showed her your table manners then?" Balthazar grinned, earning a dark scowl from his apprentice. "Alright, so you kissed someone else, is that correct?"
"No!" The answer flew out of his mouth before he had a chance to think, the color rising in his cheeks at the mere memory of the 'incident'.
"I didn't kiss them, I mean. They sort of… kissed me." Dave awkwardly backtracked, hoping that he didn't sound as guilty as he felt.
"And you didn't tell her when it happened because…?"
"I don't know, embarrassment I guess? It's not like I planned for it to happen. But then they called, and I didn't know what to do, and then you had to get your back shaved and Bennet suddenly got digestive issues and then that waitress came and ruined everything!" Dave rambled, nearly to the point of hysterics by the time he finished, his chest constricting with each word that passed his lips.
Balthazar stayed quiet as he deliberated over this information, his gaze pensive and remote. Dave fidgeted, tugging at the cords on his hoodie, knowing how improbable his story sounded; he had actually lived through it, and he still wasn't quite sure if he believed it.
"I shaved my back?" He finally asked, the edges of his lips curling up into an impish grin, throwing Dave off guard.
He had been expecting condemnation, in fact, he was almost certain of it. It never occurred to him that Balthazar might have actually understood where he was coming from, that even if he didn't agree with his actions, he still would accept him.
Plus, it was nothing short of miraculous that he didn't have to suffer through another round of the 'I'm disappointed in you Dave' stare.
"Yeah, well you said I was a bad liar. Think of it as revenge for the itch cream." Dave allowed himself to smile once he finished speaking, some of the tension easing from his frame as he knocked his shoulder into his mentor's.
Before Balthazar could respond, the soft echo of a fist striking metal filtered through the room. Dave raised a questioning brow at Balthazar, who simply shrugged his shoulders; after a beat, Dave rose to his feet and ambled up the stairs. Though he hadn't been expecting any visitors, it wasn't as though this were some bizarre occurrence; normally, when people want in, they knock.
Only sorcerers seemed to have trouble learning that little tidbit.
"Hey, can I help…" The words caught in Dave's throat when the door swung open, revealing a blonde clad in a prim peacoat, her bright blue eyes boring holes into him.
Becky.
She bit her lower lip as she looked up at him, the wind catching her long tresses and whipping them around her face; part of her wanted to turn back, but the other is happy to see him. She takes a breath and tamps down on her warring emotions, her decision made; her gaze is no less severe, but she straightens out her shoulders, and offers him a small smile.
"Dave, can we talk?"
He nods mutely as he steps to the side of the door and ushers her in, not even glancing at the rest of the world.
"What happened with Penny, I…" Becky began, before she caught sight of Balthazar, the color rising in the apples of her cheeks.
This wasn't exactly a topic she was comfortable bringing up in front of others; her romantic life has already been on display far too much for her liking as it was She made a pointed cough, shooting a furtive glance between her boyfriend (or should it be ex? She can't really say at this point) and his mentor.
Dave followed her gaze and couldn't help wincing when he looked over to Balthazar, who was grinning broadly.
His mentor was an excellent confident, but he really didn't want to talk about this in front of him, especially not with Becky. Not to mention the fact that it was rather creepy to be talking about your romantic affairs in front of a man whose age could make your great grandfather seem young.
Balthazar rolled his eyes at the pair of them, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. While he may not have the exact specifics of whatever transgressions had occurred between the pair, he could read body language easily enough.
"I'll let you kids finish this, I've just got to go ah, shave my back." Balthazar brushed past Dave as he opened the door, giving him a wink of encouragement before slamming it shut and drifting off into the streets of Manhattan.
Becky stayed quiet after that, sneaking glances at the door every so often, until she was certain enough time had passed that Balthazar wasn't eavesdropping, with magic or otherwise. It seemed crazy but then, a lot of crazy things had happened in her life recently; she wasn't about to take any more chances.
Once she was certain he wasn't about to interrupt them, she continued.
"Dave, you lied to me and while I'm still mad about that, I never gave you a chance to defend yourself. So here's your one last shot, don't blow it."
Dave's throat bobs as he swallowed, the fierceness in Becky's gaze unnerving him; his cheek still stings in the memory of yesterday. It's not to say her fury isn't warranted though. If the shoe was on the other foot, he can't say he'd be too thrilled to hear she kissed someone else either.
"No more lies Becky."
Her eyes soften a bit and she nods, though her gaze is still firmly locked onto his; if he gave her a reason to doubt him, she'll walk out that door without so much as another word.
"So what actually did happen? Penny has the tendency to over-dramatize things but she seemed pretty certain about this."
"Let's just say Drake has a pretty strange sense of humor, or maybe revenge. Actually, it's probably both. Anyway, I insulted his clothes and he decided to mortify me, by uhmmm…." Dave paused, the words stuck on his tongue, as his cheeks burnt bright red with embarrassment.
"Kissing you?" Becky supplied, her lips quirking up around the word, and Dave was thankful for her consideration as he jerked his head into a quick nod.
"Yeah, Drake doesn't really deal well with boundaries or common courtesy. But I swear Becky, I had no idea, and then when I did, well it was kind of too late."
"I guess I can forgive you if-" She paused, as she pressed her index finger into his chest with one hand, the other perched on her hip, "You don't make Drake's revenge a habit with anyone other than me."
As if to prove her point, she arched up and kissed him, her lips soft and warm against his own. Dave's eyes clenched shut as he let his senses overwhelm him, the heat of her skin searing its mark on him, as brightly as any magic. It all felt surreal, as if this was a giant illusion meant to bait his hopes before reality spiraled down on him.
When he cracked open an eyelid, he was greeted by her smiling face, as sweet as the first breeze in summer.
"Never." He managed to breath out, and a laugh slipped past her lips as she untangled her hand from his shirt.
The smile still lit up her face as she gave him a little wave, before she straightened out her jacket and marched up the stairs; as much as she'd love to spend her afternoon with him, classes are calling and she can't afford to miss another day.
Her English professor already threatened to kick her once last week, after a few faulty wires at the station caused yet another delay in her commute.
"Becky?" Dave hesitantly called after her and she spun on her heel, blonde hair splaying around her features as she looked back at him.
"Do you maybe want to, I don't know, grab some food tomorrow?"
"Sure! How about the diner over by the park? Let's say three-ish?" She answered, eyes crinkling at her boyfriend's ruddy cheeks.
"Sounds great." Dave managed to smile as she walked out the door, his heart light and his thoughts happy.
That is, until he finally noticed the chaos he had left his work area in.
It looked like a metal griffon had flown the coop and rained terror on the room. He knew he was in for a mess, he just hadn't expected a full-blown war zone. He sighed, raking a hand through his curls; even if started now, it'd take him all night to clean up this mess and probably a good chunk of the morning too.
His shoulders settled into a slump as he headed towards his storage closet, honing in on whatever cleaning supplies remained whole and intact.
He balanced a box of trash bags and a couple bottles of Lysol in his arms, a roll of paper towels precariously crooked on top of the mess. He was halfway across the floor before a familiar melody echoed out of his pocket, the vibration startling him, his supplies scattered across the floor in front of him
Choking back a curse, Dave retrieved his phone and glared at the number displayed on the screen, though his stomach tightened. Half of him wanted to ignore it and go about his business as normal, happily giving the illusionist the cold shoulder; apparently, that half had trouble convincing the other though.
"Hello?"
"D'you mind telling me why you've ignored all my bloody calls?" Dave could picture the Morganian now, his eyes narrowed and his nostrils flaring, as he bit the words out.
He knew he was fuming, and yes, maybe even rightfully so. Dave had been avoiding his calls; after the events that transpired with Becky, he nearly deleted his number and blocked his calls. He hadn't though; every time he went to press the button, something stopped him, an inexplicable urge he couldn't quite understand himself.
That didn't mean he wasn't just as angry though.
"I didn't really feel like talking." Dave responded coldly, his fingers shaking as they gripped tightly onto the phone.
"Well next time you decided to go dark, mind lettin' me know? Anyway, that innit my point. The point is-" Before Drake could finish that thought, Dave cut him off, his own temper rising.
"You're right, that isn't the point. The point is that you almost cost me my relationship with Becky."
"What are you talkin' about now?" The confusion that cracked into the illusionist's voice did nothing to diffuse the Merlinian's temper however; instead, it only seemed to fuel it.
"You! You almost ruined my life!"
The line was silent for a few moments, save for the tense, heavy breaths coming from each male. Drake was the first to break it.
"Fine. You wanna be a wanker, go right ahead. You'll find out soon enough." Drake hissed, before the line fell silent, and Dave was left wondering what on earth happened.
Dave shut off his phone and tossed it on a nearby table, glaring at it for a moment before crouching down and resuming where he left off, a can of Lysol clutched tightly in his hand. Whatever vague problems Drake had going on did not, and would not, involve him.
The thought buried itself in the back of his mind and laid there all night, despite his best efforts to ignore it.
