Title: Against

Series Title: After

POV: Niko

Author: Obi the Kid

Rating: PG

Summary: Snippet of my "After" series. A string of non-chronological short stories that focus on the 1-2 years after Cal returned from Tumulus.

Chapter Summary:

Disclaimer: All hail Rob Thurman! No profit here, I'm just having fun.

He'd seen it. I knew he had even before he reacted. A grendel. Moving with incredible speed along the rooftops of old row houses we were driving past. I'd been looking for something deserted so we could house up for a night. Three nights in a row of sleeping in the car wasn't doing either of us a bit of good, mentally or physically; and here we were two months in…two months after...and Cal was still struggling to find himself and to make sense of the world.

He'd found me. I made sense to him. He'd allow me and me alone to touch him and when he did talk, it was only to me. There was a fragility to him that scared the hell out of me and seeing one of the creatures that took him and did God knew what to him for two years of his life…I had no idea what to expect.

But I should have known. I should have expected. Cal ran. Unlocking the car door, he pushed it open and tumbled out. Quickly on his bare feet, he just ran. To where, who knew? Even he probably didn't know…all he did know was that they weren't taking him again. If he could, he'd run until his legs fell off. That wouldn't happen though. I was several times faster than Cal; long legs, trained muscles. And I had motivated myself to become a runner. I ran any chance I got. Mostly at any indoor gym I could find during quiet hours, when Cal could stay within eyesight. I'd dedicated every single aspect of my life to making myself better, stronger, healthier…to keep Cal alive. And because of that, I didn't have much trouble catching up to him.

Stopping him was another story.

He panicked and flailed out at me, pulling his knife from his coat and swiping it in my direction. Growling as another slash came and another…and then…and then it all stopped. The knife fell and Cal bent to his knees, pressing his hands to his face. Realizing what he'd done…pulled a knife on 'Nik'. 'Nik' - the only constant in his world of chaos.

His unsteady right hand reached for my coat and pulled me down toward him.

"Nik."

I pulled his other hand away from his face and cupped both in my own. "You're sorry. I know, Cal. It's okay. You're still getting better. You make mistakes. Sometimes it's how we have to do things to survive." Glancing around, I no longer saw any sign of the pale creature on top of the houses. I suppose it had seen what it needed to. It saw enough. That Cal was alive. Then it vanished into the hole in the world….the one of its own making.

We had to move and I softly took Cal's arm and got him to his feet. Another night in the car wouldn't do. Not tonight.

"We'll find a hotel, Cal. It won't be a nice place, we can't afford that, but it'll have a spot for you to rest."

"Nik."

I walked him to the car and sat him down on the bench seat; kneeling in front of him. My hands hurt; crushed in his grip; refusing to let go. His knife though, it was safely tucked away where he couldn't reach it. I'd return it to him, but only after I knew he was able to wield it again.

When his right hand finally released, it moved to my face, squeezing my jaw and eventually finding white-knuckle purchase in a desperate grasp of my shirt collar.

Several minutes passed before I was able to disengage his hold, and once I did, I wrapped him in my arms, pulling him out of the car and onto the ground where I had been kneeling. Secured then, he let go. The tension released and he tucked into my hold, much like he used to when he was small and scared.

He was older now, my brother, but things were no less terrifying for him.

Nor were they for me.

I still needed to get him away from here. To a hotel. To someplace out of the way. Out of the peering eyes of the Grendel; but I didn't dare move him. Not now. Not after he'd just given his every ounce of his complete trust to me by letting go of his panicked need to run. I couldn't move him; couldn't force him into another repulsive hotel room. Not after this.

The car. At least I could get him into the car. Not much safer than outside the car, but it would have to do. Again.

My chin resting on the top of his head, I stumbled out the words, doing my best to keep the fear out of my voice. "Cal, can you stand with me, little brother? Just for a minute to get you in the car." The vice-like grip on me tripled. "Not leaving you, Cal. I swear."

He wouldn't stand. Didn't give the slightest indication of a willingness to move his legs, so I improvised and lifted him into my arms as I stood; one arm around his back, the other under his knees. Cal had grown several inches, but he weighed nothing. I handled him without much difficulty and moved around the car. Awkwardly, I slid the both of us as one in through the driver's side, pulled both doors shut and allowed Cal to reestablish his semi-fetal position against me. Not all that simple on the car's bench seat, but we made it work and there we stayed. I notched the radio on to a 70's station. Cal always gave me a hard time about my love for that particular decade's music, but it was easy on the ears and relatively harmless. It's what we needed.

I kept watch. Stayed awake the night; knife within inches of my grasp. To my surprise,

Cal slept in my arms. Not soundly, but enough. By daybreak however, I was feeling the effects of the stress and exhaustion of another string of sleepless hours. There'd been many of those in the last two months and I didn't know how long I could keep the pace. Cal needed me. Trusted only me. I was the only one who would get him through this hell. And if I let him down, he'd never be what he once was. He'd never find himself again. This was on me. All of it. I couldn't stop them from taking him before. I would stop them from taking him again. And I would get him better. No matter the cost, no matter what I had to give up. This was my little brother. This was all that mattered.

Cal moved in my arms and without seeing his face, I knew he'd opened his eyes. His left hand found the wrist cuff on my jacket and fingers played with a loose thread. With a sleepy hoarse voice, he asked, "Motel?"

"No, Cal. We stayed here in the car last night. I kept watch."

"Oh."

The loose thread, previously an inch long, quickly ran to four or five as Cal's fiddling continued.

"Keep that up and the arm on my jacket will fall off," I said softly.

The fiddling kept on and he still made no attempt to move from my hold.

He was comfortable there. Safe.

A song by Bob Seger brushed onto the radio.

The fiddling stopped. Cal's hand stilled on my wrist. "Like this one," he whispered. The song, he meant. Against the Wind, I think the title was. It flowed simple and easy. Two things our lives had never been. A three minute escape from our world. "It's like us," Cal finished.

I offered an inner smile that he couldn't see, but he knew was there, and said, "We're up against more than the wind, little brother."

Cal's eyes closed once more. Unseen, but I knew. "Yeah." Was all he replied with, verbally. Physically, he pressed closer to me. The loose thread found again.

"Yeah," I responded back, simply. Cal didn't want nor need a lot of words since he'd returned from Grendel Hell. Actions spoke, words were just clutter to his already disordered mind. He tolerated them, for me. And I made the effort to keep them to a minimum.

He found an easy breathing rhythm. I found the same as the song rounded to an end. Mentally, I prepared myself for what was to come from Cal once his need for touch wore off. Rage. Anger. Withdrawal. All would follow. It was a pattern I'd been forced to accept. I had to welcome the unwelcomed, because for now, this was my brother. For every struggle of mine, his were tenfold. I would adapt until he was able to. Whatever Cal needed me to be, I would be. Whichever way the wind pushed us, I'd push back.

Maybe we were like the song after all.

I looked down to see that Cal had looped the loose thread around his finger several times and was currently in a quiet battle to remove it. The easy breathing rhythm breaking a beat as this thin piece of fabric threatened panic into Cal's current calm. I reached in and set a hand on the back of his. "Cal. Stop." He did. Without a second's hesitation, and let me unwind the thread, then pull it free of the jacket. My hand returned to the back of his to stay there, my fingers securing a snug clasp.

"Song's over," Cal then noted quietly. The rising panic stemming from the rogue thread now vanished.

An Eagles song came next, but I was so focused on my brother I didn't bother to recall which song it was. But like the previous, it was simple and easy.

Early morning melded to late morning before I finally gave in. As much as I needed to stay awake, for Cal, I just couldn't. I felt myself nodding off, my face falling onto the top of Cal's hair. I caught it several times before it finally stayed down. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't manage back to a completely upright position. My eyes were like steel curtains slamming shut over and over again. I was going to let my brother down by failing to protect him when I needed to. Couldn't stay awake…

Then Cal's voice, muffled and hushed, and from the general area of my chest…"Sleep, Nik." He knew. Even in his unhealthy state of mind, he knew I was falling. "S'okay to sleep. I'll watch."

More words in a row than I'd heard from him since he'd come back. And it was okay then, right? That I sleep? That I rest?

But if they came…

My arms tightened around my brother. One last circle of safety before I gave into human needs.

The Eagles song playing in the background. My little brother - my only family - secured in my arms. Here, in the middle of wherever, scared out our minds, in the bowels of an old car with only a few knives to protect us…

We slept.

And Cal was okay and safe and…he was here…when I woke. With me. Still. Not taken. I'd slept and he was here. I hadn't let him down.

A familiar song was on the radio. Again.

"Nik?"

Cal's saying of my name startled me slightly. I looked down.

"Here, Cal."

"Song."

"It's playing again, huh?"

The slight shoulders shrugged. Conversation done and slowly and finally he pushed to lift away from me. Dark hair mashed on the right side, eyes sluggish and rimmed red. Cal looked like he'd been run over by a truck.

If only his trauma had been so…simple.

Moving away from me, he found a spot against the window to curl up and deal. I could see the change in him already. The battles with his mind continuing. Anger bubbling to a slow boil.

This day would be a long day.

I notched up the volume on the Seger song, started the car and began our next journey to who knew where, where we'd find who knew what. If we could get a few grendel free weeks in a row, Cal would have a chance to do better. So I drove. Drove until my eyes blurred in front of me. A city. Somewhere in Louisiana. It was warm. Cal needed warm. We would stay here until we could no longer do so. Until the Grendel found us. Then we'd go. We'd run again. We'd run as long as we had to in order to keep Cal safe.

We were up against it. There was no way around that fact. Nothing had ever been or would ever be easy for Cal and me. And I keep thinking back to that damn song that keeps following us around. It found the radio yet again as I pulled into a motel parking lot in Shreveport. It was a persistent as the Grendel.

I put the car in park and turned to my brother, sitting quietly and seemingly lost in his own mind.

"Come on, Cal. This will be home for a while."

"Listening."

"Yes, to me. Let's get inside."

As I reached to turn the key off, Cal's hand landed softly on my arm. It was unlike Cal to actually reach out on his own, it was usually me reaching for him, so I was confused for a moment, if not a tad encouraged.

"Listening, Nik."

Ah, the song. That's what his listening comment had meant the first time. Of course.

"You're attached to it too, huh?"

"Calm."

"Calming. I knew if you just gave 70's music a chance…"

Cal met my eyes. Before…he would have wise-cracked his way through this conversation. And I never would have imagined how much I'd miss that smart-ass mouth of his. Now though…now he just starred. But I knew…I hoped…that somewhere deep within, the old Cal still functioned. That smart-mouthed little brother that I loved more than anything in the world. I'd find him. Eventually, I'd find him. There was simply no other option.

Patting the hand that still set on my arm, I left the key alone and sat back to let the song ride out.

The song ended. Cal was silent for a few beats before finally, "Home, Nik?"

The motel in front of us, Cal wasn't looking there. He was locked into my eyes once more. Gray to gray. Brother to brother. The question directed at me, not the motel. That place wasn't home. I was.

"Yeah, little brother." I said fondly, "You're home."

End