Please don't yell at me.
I know it's been what, three months? I'm so sorry. I lost literally all motivation for this story, right at the end. I've had this chapter done for a while, but my dear beta was busy with life, and I didn't know how to finish the chapters after, and basically it all led to one big shitty hole where nothing got done.
But hey, after literally pulling an all-nighter, I finished the final chapter (10 chapters people! Be prepared) and the short epilogue that follows! So technically, this story is finished, and just awaiting editing.
So get ready for the most emotion-filled last few chapters, folks. Some things happen.
Hobey ho.
A couple of days later, Saint Dane was released from the hospital with a clean bill of health. He was scheduled to start seeing a therapist, their first meeting set for two days from then. He whined and complained, but Bobby promised the doctor they'd be there.
It was a Monday, and Courtney had classes she needed to go to. She didn't want to leave them alone, but Bobby assured her that they would be okay. She departed with a promise to head home as soon as she could.
That left them with an entire day to themselves. Bobby considered just going back to the house, but the thought of going back there right now made his skin crawl. The paramedics had cleaned up the mess from the incident, but a bad feeling still hung around the place like toxic smog.
Instead, he decided to do something different. On the way home, Bobby suggested they go somewhere for lunch. Dane didn't answer, having been silent ever since they left the hospital. Bobby took this as a yes and guided them to a little café he'd discovered by chance a few weeks earlier.
"Heavenly Blends?" Saint Dane cocked an eyebrow at the sign as they walked up to the little corner shop. "Sounds a bit arrogant if you ask me."
"At least it got you to say something," Bobby replied smugly. Dane narrowed his eyes.
"So, what're you feeling?" He opened the door for the taller man as he glanced over the menu set next to the register. "Cappuccino? Frappuccino? Espresso? Honestly, I don't know that much about coffee, so you're on your own here, buddy."
Dane had stopped talking again, opting instead to stare out the window. Bobby sighed. Back to square one.
He picked the least weird-sounding thing on the menu and ordered two of them, and some breakfast bagels to go with. It was getting close to noon, but this place served breakfast all day, for which Bobby was eternally grateful.
He led Saint Dane to an empty table near the window and sat down. The demon continued to watch out the window, ignoring his companion. Bobby huffed out an exasperated sigh.
They sat in an awkward silence until their orders came. Bobby took a sip and made a face at the bitterness. "Can I have some sugar?" he asked the waitress. She smiled and brought out a tray of sweeteners for him to pick through. He thanked her and she went back to the counter.
"You want any?" he asked Dane, offering a couple packets of sugar. In response, the demon simply picked up his drink and took a sip
"Suit yourself," Bobby muttered. "Enjoy your bitter bean water."
Saint Dane snorted, coughing as he set his coffee down.
"There we go!" Bobby laughed. "Finally got some sort of response out of you!"
Glare. Silence.
Jeez.
The next half hour was spent in relative quiet, with Bobby occasionally making comments on the food or asking Saint Dane a question, and the demon consequently ignoring him. Bobby finished his bagel off quickly, while Dane prefered to pick his into bite-sized pieces with his fingers and eat it carefully, like it might be poisoned. He somehow managed to not get cheese and egg everywhere- an impressive feat.
Bobby yawned and leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms and looking out the window. A car passed by, a bit above the speed limit. Probably someone in a rush to get to work, this late in the morning. Maybe they had slept in after a long night. He wondered about their life, perfectly normal compared to his own.
A jingling from his pocket broke his train of thought. He pulled his phone out, checking the caller ID. It was Courtney.
"Hey," he said, answering. "I thought you were at school."
"I am," came the reply. "I had to leave in the middle of a lecture though, 'cause I got a message in from Zadaa. Loor's coming."
Bobby almost dropped his phone. "What?!"
"Saangi sent me a message through the ring. Apparently Press made a visit and told Loor some things that set her on edge, so she's leaving immediately. Saangi says she didn't overhear and doesn't know what's wrong, but I think I have a good idea of what Press said."
Bobby cursed. He'd thought that when he and Press agreed to not tell the other Travelers everything yet, he'd keep his word. Apparently Loor was an exception. He understood why, but still. She was probably on her way to kick his ass right now.
"Courtney, I-" he started, but stopped as something caught his eye outside of the cafe's front window. Speak of the devil. "I gotta go. Bye." Without waiting for an answer, he hung up and shoved the phone in his pocket. Saint Dane gave him a curious look. He followed Bobby's gaze, and stiffened.
Loor was stomping across the street towards them.
She looked pissed.
Dane sat frozen in his seat as the door was thrown open with a violent jingle, the remains of his brunch forgotten. Loor marched straight for their table. Before they could do anything, she reeled back and punched Saint Dane straight in the face.
Bobby leaped to his feet as the demon's head snapped to one side from the force of the hit. "Loor!"
"I've wanted to do that for a while," she said evenly, rubbing her stinging knuckles. She sat down in the seat next to the one Bobby had just vacated and folded her hands on the table in front of her. Without breaking eye contact with the demon in front of her, she said "Sit down. Speak. Now."
Bobby sat back down, though not without a note of caution. Saint Dane rubbed his jaw, checking for broken bones. Bobby wouldn't be surprised if he had spat out a tooth or two, but everything seemed to be in order.
Bobby took a breath and began, skimming through the events of the past week or so. He skimmed through details she'd already heard from Press, and made sure to skip certain… incidents he didn't think she'd be interested in knowing the specifics about. He made sure to let her know about Saint Dane's fragile mental state, though he didn't say so in as many words, as the man was sitting right in front of them.
Throughout his tale, Dane didn't move. He had his eyes locked on Loor, his back stiff, his body completely motionless. If Bobby didn't know any better, he'd say the man looked scared. Hell, he did know better. Dane was scared. He was scared shitless, and if he hadn't spent nearly the entirety of the past week watching the man, he'd have been none the wiser.
Saint Dane had a strange way of expressing his feelings. He almost always wore a mask of emotion- rage or irritation or smug superiority present when literally anyone was looking. When he didn't, he schooled his features into an unreadable, blank wall. It was infuriating, and made it hell to find out what he was thinking, which was probably just what the man was going for.
But spending so much time around him had had some advantages- one of which was learning all the little imperfections in the mask. While his face gave no indication of his inner thoughts, his eyes told a different story. A far fainter, barely-there story, but a different one nonetheless, that became clearer the longer Bobby spent observing.
It was scarcely a flicker in those ice-blue depths, but it was there now. Saint Dane was terrified.
And rightly so. Bobby believed that if he hadn't been there, Loor would have already killed the demon. As he told his story, she never once looked away from the man sitting across from them. He could feel the coiled tension radiating off her, begging to spring across the table and strangle Dane. He kept himself prepared to grab her if that happened, though he didn't know if he'd be able to hold her back if she attacked. The years of war had put him in pretty good shape, but he doubted his ability to hold his own against the great warrior of Zadaa.
He finished talking, and an awkward silence settled over the trio. Loor had her eyes still narrowed on the demon, making it impossible to gauge her reaction to the whole thing. Saint Dane still had a hand on his jaw, his face carefully blank, but Bobby could see the faintest flicker of panic in his eyes when Loor finally moved.
She turned to Bobby. "Come," she ordered, standing. "Let us speak in private."
He followed her to a corner of the café where no one was sitting, but where they could still see Saint Dane. He watched them go, relaxing slightly as Loor put some distance between them.
As soon as they were out of earshot, Loor turned to him. "I am going to be clear with you," she began. "I am not the best person to give advice of the emotional kind. My specialty lies in fighting, not feelings. You know this already."
Bobby nodded.
"You also know that I would not trust Saint Dane as far as I could throw him," she continued. "I do not trust him at all, and I believe you might be making a grave mistake in taking him in. However…"
Loor looked back at their table, where Dane had resumed picking at what was left of his meal. He felt eyes on him and glanced up, only to look out the window to avoid Loor's gaze. She sighed.
"However, I am willing to reserve judgement for now, if this is of such importance to you." She touched his arm- a light, comforting gesture. "I do not trust him, but I trust you, and I trust you to protect yourself if he does anything."
"You know, Press told me the same thing," Bobby said with a short laugh. "Courtney too. Apparently everyone thinks I make bad decisions."
"You do," Loor replied, "but you also learn from them. And more often than not, you make those situations better."
Bobby smiled, Loor returning the fond look after a moment. He opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by a yawn. He covered his mouth, shaking his head to wake himself up.
Loor looked concerned. "Are you alright?" she asked. "Did you not sleep well?"
"I'm fine," Bobby said, waving off her concern. "All the worry of the past few days is finally catching up to me, I guess."
They went back to their table, where Saint Dane was resolutely staring out the window. Bobby sat, but Loor remained on her feet. She snapped her fingers to gain Dane's attention. He glanced back at her, schooling his features into a mask of irritation, but didn't say anything.
"If you try anything," she began, her voice low from the not-so-thinly-veiled threat, "you will find yourself in a far worse existence than the one you keep whining about now."
Dane gulped, a tiny motion that went unnoticed by all but Bobby, and nodded minutely. He turned back to the window.
Loor nodded, satisfied, and bid them goodbye.
Bobby watched her out the café window as she left, headed in the relative direction of the Sherwood house and the flume that would take her home. Dane watched too, though he was less obvious about it. The tension drained from him as she got further away, and he sagged against his seat as she turned a corner and disappeared. Bobby laughed aloud at his relieved expression, earning a sour glare.
"She really clocked you there, didn't she?" Bobby asked, trying to reign in his giggles lest the barista think he's lost his mind.
Saint Dane scowled. "If you speak of this to anyone-"
"Yeah, yeah, I got it," Bobby said dismissively. "You'll hurt me, make my existence a living hell, yadda yadda yadda. Pretty much the same thing Loor just said to you, right?"
He cackled at the demon's affronted expression. A flash of something-amusement, maybe?-flickered in Dane's eyes, before once again disappearing behind annoyance.
"When you're finished making a fool out of yourself in a public place," he said, "I would like to return to Courtney's house. Despite sleeping near-nonstop during my stay at that hospital, I am still tired and would like to rest."
Bobby agreed, feeling a bit worn out himself. He called their waitress over and paid for their food, Saint Dane sticking close behind him. The door opened, admitting a large family with several rowdy kids. Bobby felt an icy hand curl around his arm. Without thinking, he reached up and squeezed it comfortingly. Dane let out a huff of breath at the action, but didn't let go until the family had moved past to be seated.
He stuck close to Bobby as they left, not speaking a word on the short walk home, but not acting hostile, either. It was a marked improvement, in Bobby's opinion.
