Ahhh guys I'm back! Sorry for the wait. Between work and wedding planning and surviving the US presidential election (and I live in CANADA), this chapter took a hot minute. Also those are literally all excuses because the truth is this was another chapter that fought me the whole way and I kept procrastinating and writing future segments that I enjoyed more than this one. Let's just say I'm glad it's behind me now.
HUGE thank you to Nomiliy for being my beta reader! I hadn't used a beta in literally 10 years and it left a bitter taste in my mouth because literally their only feedback was that I swore too much... ha ha ha.
So Nomiliy, thank you for giving me a very positive beta experience! You rock! (Also if Starren is your thing, check out her story Idiot Savant on AO3. It's awesome.)
Chapter 11: Deer In Headlights
Song:Hands In The Sky (Big Shot) by Straylight Run
Tearing out all these open pages
Women and kids of all ages
Millions of men with blank faces
Italicised lies, headlines, bold type
Mika wasn't proud of how he'd left Kurda's house without saying goodbye, but the short amount of time he'd spend there had done a number on the fragments of mental health he'd worked so hard at piecing back together in the six years that spanned between the exile and the reunion.
The tidal wave of emotion that broke over him upon the conclusion of their sexual escapade had been sobering, to say the least. The contrast of how he felt during the act - the mindless, all-consuming lust. Then the abrupt withdrawal from that high that left him terrified, confused, loathing himself for slipping, for letting himself go back down the road he spent years healing from.
He thought he'd had what he unpoetically referred to as "hate-sex" with Kurda long ago, shortly after Mika impulsively killed a vampaneze he had no business killing and almost broke the clan treaties. Kurda returned to the mountain knowing exactly what happened, and proceeded to launch a spear at Mika's head. Words were had, and blows were exchanged. Long story short, they ended up on the floor and all over each other. It was a far cry from the gentle, adoring lovemaking they favoured in their happier years but neither of them could deny it was satisfying.
But then there was the most recent encounter. The intensity was unparalleled. It was a physical manifestation of every single feeling they'd ever had for each other - the good, the bad, the great, and the devastating. Mika left with more souvenirs than just the novelty hoodie and the box of cookies; he had a fresh set of bruises and he knew Kurda did too.
But the part that bothered him the most was that he couldn't entirely convince himself it hadn't been worth it.
Regardless, the time to dwell on Kurda had come and gone. He had to step back up and be the leader his team needed. Luckily, he had some practice with that. He caught up with the group three days after leaving Kurda's cottage. Like Mika, the other five were all eager to get back to the mountain and recount their war stories. But like Mika, they were equally eager to take a small detour to a village where the vampaneze were using as a stronghold.
The night before they were scheduled to arrive at their target, they made camp in the remains of an abandoned barn. As the group went to sleep, Mika stayed up for an extra hour to run through his game plan with Jakob, his second-in-command. The two of them sat in what used to be a hay mow and carefully finalized the details of the impending strike and outlined a few potential what-if scenarios.
Jakob Wiles had grown into a strong, intelligent, clear-headed vampire in his five years under Mika's guidance and Mika had to admit he was impressed. He never wanted a protege after Arra, but he ended up with one anyway. Mika was very hopeful he'd start training for Generalship after the mission was complete.
"So how'd it go while I was gone? Did everyone behave for you?" Mika asked breezily once they'd finished discussing their attack strategy.
"Yeah, mostly. Gareth is always a little difficult when you're away but he's all talk. I'm used to it." Jakob recounted with a terse smile.
"Ah. Well, Gareth is a petulant moron so don't let him bother you." Said Mika seriously. "His mentor has been a thorn in my side for decades. Gareth's still butthurt because he's the only General on the team and I still passed him over when I chose you for my second-in-command."
"Butthurt is putting it lightly." Jakob snorted. "Why'd you let him on your team in the first place?"
"Because Coulson broke his leg in a training accident two days before we left the mountain, and Paris said I had to take a General. Naturally, Gareth was the only one left." Mika explained bluntly while Jakob chuckled.
"And how was your trip?" Jakob asked unassumingly once he'd put his serious face back on.
Mika stiffened.
"Good. Uneventful."
"You visited him, didn't you? Kurda Smahlt?" Said Jakob, rather boldly in Mika's opinion. His tone was casual but there was a burning curiosity in the young man's hazel eyes. Mika narrowed his own eyes and shot Jakob a shrewd look.
"What leads you to that assumption?"
"Well, you recently had your yearly visit with Gracie, so I'm guessing you weren't with her. I know you weren't running recon on the vampaneze, because you always tell us in advance so we can find you in case something goes wrong..." Jakob explained carefully. Judging by the apprehension in his face it was clear he realized he'd overstepped. But he'd gotten close enough with Mika in the past six years that he didn't exactly look afraid either.
"Good observation, but there's a flaw in your logic. You only listed two potential things I could've been off doing, when in reality there are unlimited different possibilities." Mika answered evenly, arching an eyebrow.
Jakob smiled ruefully.
"Well, you were tense before you left. Like, more than usual. Now that you're back you're considerably more relaxed... but you're also quieter. And when you run a successful solo mission you usually like to inform the whole world." The younger man continued determinedly.
Mika rolled his eyes.
"That doesn't mean -"
"Also, you have a little bruise on your neck." Jakob concluded with an air of resigned finality, vaguely gesturing.
"Agh, fuck me..." Mika grunted as he realized he was busted. How embarrassing.
"Looks like your ex already did that." Jakob quipped.
Mika did a double-take, eyes narrowed.
"I will punt you into the fucking sun, Wiles." He retorted through gritted teeth.
"Fine. Good luck having Gareth as your second-in-command." Said Jakob with a mischievous grin.
Mika had to laugh. How could he not? Six years ago Jakob had been soft-spoken, insecure, and indecisive to the point of being annoying. He was practically afraid to look Mika in the eye, never mind partake in such an informal conversation.
Vampire civilians kind of put their Princes on a pedestal. And not that Mika minds. We all know how much he enjoys the view from the top, and all the perks that come with it. Who wouldn't?
But the top is lonely when you're the only one up there. The long years apart from his fellow Princes as well as higher-ranking vampires, like Seba or Vanez, had him missing being in the presence of people who weren't afraid to talk to him normally. So when Jakob finally started coming out of his shell and talking to Mika like something of a friend, Mika began to enjoy his life considerably more. Sure, Jakob was no Arrow. Nobody was Arrow. But that offhanded comment about the bruise was as close as it gets.
Mika exhaled and ran his hand lazily through his hair.
"When did you get so observant?" He asked.
"Since you taught me to be on the lookout for that kind of thing." Said Jakob.
"Ah. So it's my fault." Mika remarked.
"Your words, not mine." Jakob chuckled lightly.
They sat in contemplative silence for several moments. One of the things Jakob learned from Mika was that not every silence needed to be filled with words. Eventually Mika heard Jakob draw breath to say something and swiftly cut him off.
"Don't think for a minute I'm going to be spilling the highly personal details of my private life to you just because I slipped one time, and you happen to have functioning eyeballs." Said Mika curtly.
"I apologize, Sire." Said Jakob. He glanced sideways at Mika, until Mika slowly turned to meet his eyes. It had been a while since he'd addressed Mika so formally. They'd been on a first-name basis for several years.
"Tell anyone about it, and I'll eliminate any promotions that may or may not have been in your future." Said Mika. His tone was offhanded but he knew Jakob knew he wasn't bluffing.
"I wouldn't dream of it." Said Jakob. "I'm sorry I brought it up. I should've kept it to myself."
"It's alright. I don't like the idea of someone knowing my secrets without me knowing they know." Said Mika, managing a tense smile which Jakob returned.
"Still. Let's make it even." Said Jakob pointedly after a moment's pause. "Want to know my secret?"
"You and Arlo have a thing." Mika replied with a dismissive flick of his hand. "Old news. My eyes work too."
He expected Jakob to blush but the younger man just rolled his eyes.
"I knew you knew. That's not what I was getting at." Said Jakob rather impatiently. Mika arched an eyebrow.
"Well then, what?"
Jakob took a deep breath.
"I'm going to ask Arlo to be my mate. I made up my mind a few weeks ago when we were fighting that nasty, stubborn old vampaneze together ... and he was with me every step of the way. He's always had my back. And I love him."
Mika smiled with a lot more enthusiasm than he cared to admit.
"Congratulations. I wish you the very best." He told his young friend, patting him on the shoulder.
"Thank you. That means a lot coming from you." Jakob replied earnestly.
"I mean it." Said Mika. "So, when are you going to ask?"
"Hmmm. I'll wait til we get settled in back to the mountain, I think." Said Jakob. Mika didn't miss the note of indecision creeping into his tone.
"Why wait that long?" Mika asked bluntly. "Not that it's any of my business, but that'll be months from now at the very least."
"Wouldn't you rather I finish the mission before worrying about my personal life?" Said Jakob, regarding Mika with an almost childlike bewilderment.
"I have no reason to doubt your ability to carry out your duties in the field and be in a relationship at the same time, Jakob. Those two things don't need to overlap if you don't let them. And I won't have a problem with it, if that's what you're worried about."
Jakob managed a terse smile, but then it faltered.
"But what if the others do?" He asked. His tone was causal but his eyes betrayed genuine concern.
"Who cares?"
"Me, for starters."
"Jakob, I raised an entire human baby in Vampire Mountain and then had two chaotic relationships all in the span of 12 years. Nobody ever questioned me about any of it. You'll be fine." Mika countered lightly.
"You're a Prince! Of course no one questioned you!" Jakob exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air.
Mika shrugged thoughtfully.
"That helped, but the real reason no one ever questioned me was because I never gave them a reason to question me. I set that groundwork long before I took the throne. That established trust is what leads to one becoming a Prince. It's not something that automatically happens once your promotion takes effect. Make sense?"
Jakob tilted his head and surveyed Mika with a sudden air of enlightenment.
"I... yeah. It does." He said at last, starting to smile again.
"Good." Said Mika contentedly.
"So, tomorrow is our last strike before we start for home, right?" Said Jakob.
"That's the plan." Mika affirmed.
"Then I'll ask Arlo the day after tomorrow." Jakob replied with a decisive grin. He was positively glowing.
And that was enough secondhand happiness to make Mika feel lighter than he had in years.
Living lost just like deer in headlights
Terrified, blind, and wait to die
I wonder when they'll come get me
I wonder when they'll come get me
THE NEXT DAY:
Nothing could've prepared Mika for the fact that all of a sudden, the other side had fucking guns.
Mika did everything right. He walked through the plan in his mind a hundred times. He went over it with the strike team a dozen times. Five years together in the field had turned them into a seamless unit; Mika, Jakob, Arlo, Gareth, Marius, and Osric. They trusted each other. They listened. They understood. So that when the time came, they too did everything right.
They slowly surrounded the run-down old house they'd tracked their targets to. They'd be slightly outnumbered but they'd have the element of surprise on their side. The goal was to live-capture a few and kill the rest. Maybe at least one of them would be willing to spill some secrets if the vampires were... persuasive enough.
Their stealth tracking had been flawless. Nobody put a single foot wrong. They surveilled the hideout for two nights, watching and listening. And then they went in.
For a split second, everything went exactly according to plan. Mika tackled the toughest looking vampaneze to the floor, with the intention of taking him alive. Meanwhile the others engaged in combat with the rest of the vampaneze. The vampires had the element of surprise; and the time to approach with caution and attempt a civil discussion was long over. Six years into the war, it was kill or be killed. Take prisoner or be taken prisoner. Mika's assault incapacitated his target vampaneze enough so that Mika could wrestle the man's arms behind his back, rendering him powerless to escape.
And then the shooting started.
Mika didn't understand where the sound was coming from at first, or why it sounded like the universe was coming to an explosive end. All he knew was for a good three seconds he thought he was dead. Or dying, at the very least. The sudden thunderous crack reverberated through his bones. Rattled his brain. The sheer volume stunned him so completely he could do nothing but stand frozen to the spot like a deer in headlights. As if the air had been sucked from his lungs. Paralyzed by fear.
And then there came a white-hot, explosive pain in his arm, another in his shoulder, and another, and another.
Mika crumpled to the floor, every nerve in his body fire. But that proved to be a near-fatal error because the vampaneze in his grasp slipped free and scrambled away. The heavyset purple man seized Mika by the throat and lift-dragged him to his feet and pinned him roughly up against the wall.
"Six years of war isn't enough for you filth-ridden parasites to learn your lesson about minding your own business?" The vampaneze bellowed. Mika felt drops of spit land on his face and for a moment the sheer outrage was enough to block out the searing pain of the fresh bullet wounds.
"Does your... Lord... know you're using... long range weapons?" Mika snarled back viciously. The crushing pressure of the purple fist against his throat made it difficult, but he put as much disgust as he could into the word "Lord".
The vampaneze sneered back at him, then threw his head back and laughed nastily. Mika took advantage of the other man's distraction, and sent him reeling with a decisive kick to the groin. It was a cheap shot, but Mika didn't care. If the other side wasn't above using guns, he sure as hell wasn't above playing dirty if his life was on the line.
The vampaneze released his stranglehold on Mika's neck and staggered back, howling in pain, but recovered swiftly and retaliated with a closed-fist blow to the side of Mika's head. Mika felt as though his brain had been jarred loose by the impact but instinct took over and his hand flew to his belt and withdrew his dagger. And a split second later the vampaneze crumbled to the floor with blood pouring from his throat.
Guess we're not taking that one alive.
Some of the vampaneze flitted the second their position was compromised. Others had been cornered by Mika's troops and were putting up a fierce fight. As Mika quickly looked around, he could see there was a shocking amount of very recently blooded vampanze here. So new in fact, their skin hadn't yet taken on the notorious purple tinge.
Instinct and adrenaline took over, and Mika's finely tuned battle reflexes did not let him down. He immediately located the sources of the gunfire; there was a man in the left corner, one standing on a table, and one seemed to be guarding the three vampaneze who stood behind him; their skin a darker hue of purple.
Osric, Gareth, and Jakob had all taken bullets - Mika could see widening bloodstains peppering their bodies. But they were still on their feet and giving the vampaneze the fight of their lives; it seemed the bullets hadn't struck any vital organs.
Another vampaneze, armed with a pair of double-bladed knives ducked in front of the gunman standing before him and came hurtling at Mika like a nuclear missle, bellowing out an incoherent battle cry. Mika raised his sword defensively and blocked the vampaneze's left arm, but he was an agile opponent and his right arm came snaking past the sword blade, his gleaming silver knife blade trained on Mika's exposed throat.
At such close range, the vampaneze's smaller blades had a hearty advantage over Mika's larger and less maneuverable sword. The vampaneze's aim was true, and it may have been a lucky enough strike to claim the life of a Vampire Prince, if Mika hadn't trained such a skilled set of teammates throughout his years in the field.
Marius was at his side in a split second with his dagger at the ready. With a deft uppercut he severed the vampaneze's hand clean off his arm. The dismembered appendage dropped to the floor with a mundane thump, and the clatter of the knife it had been holding.
"I owe you one." Mika muttered darkly to Marius.
The vampaneze howled in pain and fury, and swung madly at Marius with his remaining limb but Mika plunged his sword through the man's purple skin and into his heart, and he made no further sound.
"I'd call it even!" Marius remarked. Mika nodded appreciatively.
Then, gunshots again. Louder than ever. One of the gunmen was lurching towards them, his handheld weapon aloft and his finger squeezing compulsively at the trigger. But he'd been injured. Hhis arm was shaking and his aim was poor. Mika heard one, two bullets fly past his head but he advanced savagely on the gunman and watched in relish as the young man's eyes went wide in fear. He pulled the trigger again; trembling so thoroughly the bullet only grazed Mika's arm despite the fact that he was only several feet away. Pulled the trigger one more time and all he got was a sharp click.
Mika didn't know the first thing about guns, but he was pretty sure that was what empty sounded like.
"You should've counted those." Mika growled. This would be an ideal candidate for interrogation. He was so newly blooded, it didn't look like he'd even been blooded at all. Not to mention he didn't seem to have an ounce of fight in him now that his ammunition was spent.
The young man tried to flee, but Mika was much quicker and had him pinned to the wall within seconds; arms twisted behind his back.
"When and why did your long-range weapon laws change?" Mika snarled into his ear.
"I don't know!" The pale gunman whined feebly.
"I highly recommend you don't waste my fucking time." Mika advised him icily, tightening his grip. "Why are you using guns?"
"Go to hell... vampire scum..." the man hissed.
"You first." Mika growled. He tightened his grip harder still, twisted a little. Then there came the sickening snap of bone. A split second of stunned silence, and then the man started to scream in pain.
Mika was so alarmed he slackened his hold on his captive. He'd been rough, but he knew his strength. This was absolutely not his first rodeo. He hadn't exerted nearly enough force to snap a bone like that - be it vampire or vampaneze.
And then it dawned on him, and it was so damn obvious he didn't understand how he'd missed it.
This wasn't a freshly blooded vampaneze who hadn't turned purple yet. This man didn't have a drop of vampaneze blood in his body at all. He was just a human.
And nobody ever said humans can't use guns.
But he didn't have time to dwell on that chilling revelation for a second longer, because suddenly the very oxygen around him was shattered into a thousand pieces as he heard someone cry out in agony.
The world seemed to stand still as he turned around to locate the source of the blood-curdling sound. And when he did, he wished with every fibre of his body that he could turn back around and revert to existing in a universe before this.
Before he saw Arlo Bracken lying spread-eagled on the floor, his empty eyes staring up at a ceiling they could no longer see, and blood spilling from a bullet hole in his forehead.
And before he saw his loyal second-in-command, his friend, Jakob Wiles on his knees at Arlo's side, trembling arms clutching the lifeless body of his other half, then man he loved. Barely 24 hours before the moment he was going to propose.
Time stood still in Mika's world but the bullets didn't stop. It was clear Jakob had no intention of leaving Arlo's side voluntarily. Mika flew to Jakob's side and grabbed him roughly, ignoring a steady stream of bellowed protests. He half-carried half-dragged Jakob behind the kitchen island in an effort to shelter him from the gunfire while Osric, Marius, and Gareth fought to disarm the other side.
"Stay here. I'll come back for you." Mika ordered Jakob, but it was as if the grief-stricken man couldn't hear him. Mika sighed in frustration. He drew breath and prepared to tell Jakob something along the lines of, "I know it hurts but we're literally in a firefight so I really need you to keep it together for like ten more minutes." But the words died in his throat.
Mika had been on both sides of this.
He'd been the one watching helplessly as a friend fell to their knees, the one watching them scream in anguish, the one trying in vain to do something. Anything.
And he'd been the one falling, the one screaming, the one wishing he could just die so the pain would stop.
There were two things he knew to be true after living through both:
One: He didn't know which was harder to endure.
Two: There are no words that can put a dent in that kind of pain.
We want to, have to, need to
And we'll tell you when their hungry again
And we'll tell you when their hungry again
It never ends, never ends
The brief but explosive battle ended with a vampiric victory although it didn't feel like it. Three vampaneze managed to flee, but the rest were dead on the floor. One of the humans had been killed in the struggle, and another had taken his own life before being captured. But the human Mika apprehended wasn't going anywhere.
They left the house behind and relocated deep within the forest. It was slow going. Everyone had sustained a bit of physical damage, whether from knives or bullets. Jakob insisted on carrying Arlo's body - but Jakob was weakened from the fight and didn't weigh much more than Arlo did.
"Jakob, I can help you... let me help you." Mika heard Marius murmur, almost desperately, as they trudged between the tall evergreen trees.
"I don't need your help!" Jakob croaked back emphatically. Marius did not respond.
Miles into the woods, they stumbled across what was left of a neglected old hunting cabin.
"We'll lie low here for a couple days. Everyone, get some rest." Mika ordered wearily as the group filed inside. Most of the group, anyway.
Jakob did not follow the others. He stopped on the porch and laid Arlo's body down, where he covered it in his jacket. Then he knelt beside his fallen love in silent vigil.
Mika suspected Jakob had neither endured a trauma nor taken a loss like this before. Mika was well familiar with pain but he'd never walked this exact path. Losing Kurda had been different; their relationship was all but over before the betrayal, and Kurda had walked away from it with his life. As much as it destroyed him, Mika knew his loss wasn't the same as Jakob's.
(Not to mention he'd been having borderline violent sex with his loss less than four days ago. Oops).
Mika paused in the doorway before entering the cabin. He ran through combination after combination of words in his mind, trying to find a few he could string together and share with Jakob in hopes of offering some modicum of comfort or wisdom. But he came up empty.
"Let me know if you need anything." Said Mika quietly. Jakob did not react and Mika was uncertain if he'd even heard him. "That's an order." He added.
Jakob's head twitched ever so slightly in a semblance of a nod, and Mika slipped inside to join the others. Gareth had the human captive in custody, and ushered him into the windowless cellar where he'd remain until his interrogation.
Mika was dreading that.
Although violence was an inherent piece of vampiric society, no halfway-decent vampire is truly sadistic. This was precisely why a human's blood must be tested before a vampire will agree to admit them into the clan; to weedout the type of individual who would abuse his or her supernatural abilities.
But they were at war. And when you're at war, you do what you must. It wouldn't be the first time Mika had conducted an interrogation and it probably wouldn't be the last. He'd get it over with as quickly as he could and move on. It would probably mean a few sleepless nights but that was par for the course these days. If the man could give him anything that would get them closer to putting and end to this, it would be worth it.
The human could wait, though. If they'd apprehended a full vampaneze Mika would have dealt with that right away but a human lacked the strength to find a way to escape the cellar. Not to mention his arm was broken. He wasn't going anywhere.
All Mika wanted in the entire world was to retreat to a small, dark room where he could break down in peace. But this wasn't the time to hide. He had to be the glue to put them back together. So he turned his full attention back to the team. They'd been through a lot together, but nothing like this. Osric and Gareth both had bullet wounds that required attention. Jakob did too, but they weren't serious enough to warrant an interruption to his vigil right now. As the last of his adrenaline fizzled away, occurred to Mika that he still had several bullets lodged in his upper arm and the side of his chest. The pain was distracting, to say the least, but he gritted his teeth and did his best to ignore it.
Once he'd double-checked to confirm the captive was secure, he explored every last corner of the cabin until he struck gold - a small first-aid kit in the bathroom cabinet - then he rejoined the team who'd made themselves comfortable in the dilapidated living room. Everything was old and shabby and there was a distinct odour of mildew but it was a roof over their heads and after the night they'd had, some proper shelter was appreciated.
"Are you hurt?" Mika inquired, addressing Marius. He was the only one who didn't appear to have been shot.
"Scraped and bruised but nothing serious, Sire."
"Good. Can you -"
"- Go hunt something for us to eat before the sun comes up?" Marius responded promptly before Mika could finish his sentence. He nodded to the younger vampire and smiled wearily.
"Exactly."
Marius nodded proudly and slipped quickly out the door into the night. Mika turned his gaze over to Osric and Gareth. Osric was sitting at the small dinner table with his head in his hands and Gareth was lying on the couch, eyes closed and breathing heavily. A vampire can take a significantly higher amount of punishment than a human can, but no one is completely invincible.
"Alright, which of you is more fucked up?" Mika asked resignedly. He was no medic but you don't spend well over two centuries as a warrior without learning a few things about patching up a damaged body.
"Him." Osric grunted without looking up, gesturing towards Gareth.
"Pretty sure Bracken wins this one." Gareth countered.
"For once in your life, Tarl... shut up." Mika growled warningly. "I don't have to be gentle when I take your bullets out."
"My apologies, Sire. I meant no ill will." Said Gareth. "Arlo was a good man... even in death may he be triumphant. I'll miss him."
As obnoxious as his voice was, he sounded sincere so Mika didn't push it. In hindsight, he supposed it was rather hypocritical of himself to come down on someone for using dark humour as a coping mechanism in a bad situation.
"Are you hurt, Sire?" Osric asked, looking Mika up and down.
"I'm fine for now." He replied calmly, ignoring the throbbing in his arm. The nice thing about a strictly black wardrobe is that it's not overtly obvious when you're bleeding. He'd take care of his own injuries later.
"I thought I saw you get shot." Osric countered with a hint of suspicion.
"Oh, I was definitely shot." Mika clarified impatiently. "Just my arm. I have two. Don't worry about me."
He could've sworn he saw Osric roll his eyes and he felt a small surge of fondness - that was how Arrow would have reacted if he was here.
"Okay, Tarl. Let's see the bullet holes. I'll try to make it quick." Said Mika briskly. He knelt on the floor beside the couch Gareth was laying on. Gareth reluctantly sat up and pulled off his shirt so Mika could have a clear view of his damaged side, and also of the rather tacky tattoo which Mika had not been aware of. He tried not to look at it as he went to work searching for a bullet below Gareth's rib cage but it felt like the thing was staring at him.
"Nice snail." Mika remarked.
"It's a mermaid..." Gareth mumbled.
"Charna's Guts. Are you sure?"
"I'm sure I told the guy I wanted a mermaid."
"Yikes. No offence." Said Mika drily. "Okay, I found the first bullet."
"Ow! Fuck! Yeah, I gathered that."
"It's gonna hurt. Not much I can do about that." Mika informed him with trace amounts of sympathy.
"Bite the cushion so you don't chomp your own tongue off, Gareth." Osric advised, making his way over. "I was shot several times while I was still a human. It'll be over quick but it won't be pleasant."
Once Gareth had a mouthful of couch cushion, he let out a grunt of affirmation and Mika deftly pulled out the tweezers that he'd clamped around the bullet. Gareth bellowed into the pillow and a steam of blood issued from the hole but Osric quickly pressed a cloth over it. Mika held up the bullet and examined it for a few minutes.
He vividly recalled the mission decades ago when he had to pull a bullet just like this out of Kurda's chest. Back when Kurda was just a slight nuisance, more of a casual workplace nemesis than anything else. It was astonishing how something so small could cause so much damage and pain. And he could say the same for the bullet.
"How many more you got in there, Tarl?"
"Don't worry 'bout it. They can stay where they are. Surely that can't be any worse than taking them out." Gareth replied, his face still pressed into the couch cushion.
"Don't be a little bitch." Said Mika firmly, but not unkindly. "Think how embarrassing it'd be if you went and died of an infected bullet hole."
Osric failed to stifle a loud chuckle. Gareth sighed resignedly, sat up and rotated to provide access to the two other holes that peppered his side. A few tense minutes and gasps of pain later, Mika had succeeded in extricating the remaining bullets and Gareth was one step closer to a full recovery. Osric was next, and Mika was not surprised when he was considerably less dramatic than Gareth was.
Not long after that, Marius returned with a small deer he'd hunted. Osric and Gareth quickly joined him outside and the three of them went to work skinning it.
Mika followed them out, but his focus immediately settled on Jakob who hadn't budged from the spot on the porch where he was sitting. Jakob's face was completely gaunt, and his eyes were bloodshot. His posture was that of a broken man.
Jakob didn't look up as Mika approached. Mika stopped several feet away and sat down with his back against the saggy wooden railings.
"I'd ask you how you are, but that would be a stupid question." He commented.
Jakob's shoulders shuddered as he sighed, but other than that he did not react.
"Tell me what I can do for you." Mika added, his voice low and thick with concern.
Jakob shook his head slowly.
"Fine. If there's nothing I can do for you, then I'm going to ask you to do something for me."
Jakob looked up at Mika, his red eyes narrowed in confusion. Mika met his hard, anguished gaze calmly.
"What?" Jakob asked. His voice was so hoarse he didn't even sound like himself.
"I need you to play medic for a few minutes. Got some bullets in my arm and shoulder that should probably come out sooner than later." Mika explained. Jakob's face fell.
"I... I don't think I'm... in the right frame of mind for such delicate work right now." He croaked.
"I hear you, but we're at war. And the war doesn't care what frame of mind you're in." Mika continued evenly. Jakob let out a soft groan of frustration, and he looked away from Mika for several moments, blinking furiously and dabbing at his eye with his tattered, bloodied sleeve.
"Why can't Osric or Marius do it?" Jakob whimpered.
"One: you've got a steadier hand than either of them. Two: I'm your boss. And three..." Mika paused and took a deep breath. He didn't realize how tired he was until he sat down. "...I'm trying to distract you here, Jakob. Just humour me."
Mika stood up and offered Jakob his hand. After only a moment's hesitation, Jakob reached out. Mika gently pulled him up to his feet and they made their way into the cabin.
Mika lay down on the couch with his damaged arm facing his reluctant would-be medic.
"I have no idea what I'm doing." Jakob muttered dispassionately. "I'm going to hurt you."
"If you find a way to hurt me worse than I already am, I'll be impressed." Mika replied lightly. "Now get in there. Pretend it's a splinter."
It did hurt worse. Considerably worse.
"You're doing great. I hardly felt a thing." He encouraged Jakob with forced casualness as the first of the bullets was removed.
"Why did they have guns?" Jakob croaked.
"Their human soldiers don't need to play by their rules." Mika explained. "It's dirty, but it's not illegal. Clearly they're willing to do whatever it takes to get ahead. I don't believe those vampaneze had any intention of blooding them. If they did, they'd be training them to follow their laws from the start."
"Are we going to start recruiting humans too?" Jakob asked. Mika scoffed derisively and then regretted it as the motion sent a shockwave of pain through his upper body.
"Not in this lifetime. I know I'd never approve it, and I highly doubt any of the other Princes would either." Said Mika. "And if I found any vampire guilty of using an unblooded human to skirt weaponry laws, there'd be a hell of a trial."
"That's good." Jakob murmured. "How are you doing?"
"Living the dream." Mika replied wryly.
"Good. I think I've found the second bullet..."
"Ow. Yep, you've got it."
"Alright, pulling it in 3...2-"
"Don't count." Mika protested. "Just do- OUCH. FUCK."
"Sorry. That's two done." Said Jakob wearily, holding up the bloodied piece of metal so Mika could see it.
"Don't apologize. Let's get three over with."
Three hurt more than one and two put together and it was all Mika could do not to punch Jakob in the head out of instinct. He knew there was a fourth bullet that was cozily tucked close to his shoulder joint but he kept that to himself. He knew it was too far in for Jakob to access, it would have to wait til he reached Vampire Mountain and the trained medics that resided there. As long as he could keep it clean to stave off an infection, he'd most likely be fine.
"Good work. Thank you." Mika panted as he sat back upright and pressed a clean cloth against the bleeding hole in his arm.
"Is that it? Just three?" Jacob asked.
"Yep." Mika lied swiftly. Jakob looked slightly suspicious but a dull thud from the cellar pulled both their attention. The human.
"I forgot about him." Jakob growled, a sudden hatred flashing in his eyes.
"I wish I could forget about him." Mika replied drily. "I'll have to spend some time with him later. I can't decide if I should wait til after I eat, or if I should just get it over with."
"You're going to torture him for information, right?" Jakob asked, a strange curiosity burning in his face.
"Well, I didn't bring him along for fun." Said Mika.
"He's the one that shot Arlo." Said Jakob, his voice cracking. Mika frowned. He wasn't entirely sure where Jakob was going with this, but he had a rough idea.
"I'm not sure." Said Mika.
"I am." Jakob muttered. "He was shooting at you. But he missed, and Arlo took the bullet instead. I saw the whole thing."
"I'm sorry." Said Mika helplessly. "If I had a choice between taking another bullet and having Arlo here with us, I wouldn't hesitate."
"I want to do it." Jakob replied abruptly.
"Do what?" Mika asked, even though he knew.
"Interrogate the human."
"You really want the job of pushing a defenceless man to his breaking point just for a shred of information that may or may not end up being useful to us?" Said Mika, shooting Jakob a skeptical glance. "Have you ever conducted an interrogation?"
"No, Sire. But you saved me today when I lost my head during the fight. I would've been shot or captured if you hadn't pulled me to safety. With all due respect, I'd like to do this... so you don't have to." Jakob answered, his words carefully measured.
Mika stared at him long and hard, forcing Jakob to meet his steely eyes.
You must think I'm a special kind of stupid, Mika thought to himself.
"Really? You're leaping at a chance to torture someone just for the sake of preserving my mental health? No other reason?" Mika replied shrewdly.
"Yes, Sire."
Mika didn't speak for a minute or so but he held Jakob's gaze, silently daring the younger man to look away. Jakob didn't waver.
"Liar." Said Mika crisply. Jakob's face reddened. "You want to hurt him because he hurt you. And you can deny it if you want to, but you'll only be digging yourself deeper into a hole."
"Why does it matter?" Jakob gasped, starting to sob again. "If it gets us what we need, why the fuck does it matter? I get revenge, you get to sit back and keep your hands clean! What's your problem?"
Mika felt his temper rise. Jakob had learned so much over the last few years that sometimes Mika forgot how relatively inexperienced he still was. So he pushed his frustration back down with some difficulty.
"My problem is that you're jumping at this opportunity for the wrong reasons. You shouldn't WANT to torture someone. Ever. You're not thinking clearly - trust me, I've been there. After Kurda was exiled, I got drunk and told Arrow I wanted to resign as a Prince-"
"THIS ISN'T ABOUT YOU!" Jakob bellowed, tears still streaming from his face. Mika blinked in surprise at the audacity. If Jakob wanted a yelling match, Mika would be happy to give him one - and relish every second. But instead he made a conscious decision to hold his tongue, at least for now. He wanted to see where Jakob was going with this.
"Your loss isn't the same as mine! And fuck you for acting like it is!" Jakob continued, all semblance of respect long gone. "You walk around all moody and angsty as if you've been to hell and back, like you're some kind of survivor. As if you weren't out FUCKING the traitor four nights ago! YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW I'M FEELING! YOU NEVER DID, AND YOU NEVER WILL!"
White-hot fury burned in Mika's soul. The only reason he was able to control it was because he'd just decided exactly how he was going to handle this. Jakob's carelessly chosen words had made the decision for him. He arched his eyebrows impatiently at Jakob, daring him to continue ranting, and he did just that.
"You can't just shelter me!" Jakob continued. "What was the point of spending all these years training me to be the next you, if you don't think I can handle this? You're the one who said war doesn't care what frame of mind you're in! So just let me fucking do this!"
Mika stared him down, face purposefully devoid of any trace of expression. When he finally spoke, his words were sharp as glass, hard as diamond, and cold as ice.
"You're no me, Jakob. I know that much." Said Mika evenly. "And you're right. My pain isn't your pain. Clearly I have no idea what I'm talking about. So go ahead. Go torture that human like you so desperately want to. Paint the walls with his blood for all I care. I'll be right here on this couch. Let me know what you find out."
Mika hit Jakob with his trademark withering glare, then picked up a tattered hunting magazine from the coffee table that was dated nine years ago, and began to read.
He heard Jakob's footsteps retreat slowly, the cellar door creaking open and closed, and Jakob descending the stairs that would lead him to the captured human. Mika took a deep breath and studiously perused an advertisement for a comically massive, outdoorsy truck as if he was in the market for such a thing.
He didn't even get as far as the interior trim options when he heard footsteps pounding back up the stairs, and the cellar door flying open. Jakob emerged, panting and shaking. He staggered to the kitchen table and and collapsed into a chair with his face in his hands.
Right on schedule, Mika thought ruefully. Jakob handled that exactly as expected. Mika slowly got up from the couch and relocated to the table, taking a seat directly across from Jakob.
"How did that go? Did you break him?" Mika asked sarcastically.
"I didn't touch him." Jakob panted. "I just looked at him... and he looked at me... I can't do it. I'm sorry, Sire... Mika... I just can't."
Mika rolled his eyes.
"I know. That's the only reason I let you try. I knew you weren't ready, and honestly? I'm glad you're not. You don't need another memory from today that'll haunt you for the rest of your life."
Jakob looked up to face Mika, his watery eyes even redder than before.
"I'm so sorry." Jakob repeated hoarsely. "For everything."
"Learn from this. That's all I have to say to you right now." Said Mika flatly before getting back up and turning away.
"Where are you going?" Jakob whimpered at his retreating back.
"To do my fucking job."
Big shot screaming, "Put your hands in the sky,"
He says, "Give it up boy, give it up or your gonna die
You'll get a bullet in the back of the neck
In the back of the neck right between the eyes. "
Mika had known from the start Jakob wasn't ready to take on a solo interrogation, no matter how grief-stricken he was. It's one thing to want to make someone hurt. It's another thing entirely to do it. To systemically apply excruciating pain to another living thing until they reach their breaking point, give you what you need, and become disposable from that point onwards.
He recognized it was a good thing how much he loathed this task, but that didn't help him in the moment. Or afterwards, when the shock and terror of the day coupled with the physical pain of neglected injuries finally became too much and he could do nothing but lock himself in the bathroom and vomit. And when his body had nothing left to give, he slowly sunk down to the floor and just lay there, trapped in limbo. Too shattered to get up and face to the team, too numb to cry. Just broken enough to do what he'd managed to go six years without doing.
A bit of telepathic outreach didn't exactly compare to the fact they'd relapsed in person barely four days ago anyway.
MVL: Sorry I left before you woke up.
KS: Charna's Guts, Mika. No contact for six years and now twice in a week?
MVL: I had no reason to contact you prior to this week.
KS: I got your note. Don't feel bad about leaving. I would've done the same.
MVL: And I'm sorry I stole your cookies.
KS: That's funny considering your note was very unapologetic about that.
MVL: Sometimes it takes a while to figure these things out. You know me.
KS: That's an understatement.
MVL: Mhm.
KS: You okay?
MVL: Just had a bad day.
KS: Want to talk about it?
MVL: Definitely not.
KS: Then what do you want me to do?
MVL: Hadn't thought that far ahead.
KS: I don't know how to help you, Mika.
MVL: Just tell me something that isn't awful.
KS: I mailed a letter to Gracie yesterday.
MVL: Wow.
KS: I said the same thing.
MVL: I never know how I feel about you from one moment to the next-
KS: You made that very clear when you visited.
MVL: -but I'll sleep better knowing there's still hope for you and Gracie. That's the truth.
KS: Your heart always was in the right place, no matter how much you pretend otherwise. I appreciate that.
MVL: I hate this, Kurda. I fucking hate it.
KS: That's rather vague.
MVL: That's as specific as I can get.
KS: Then you really did have a bad day.
MVL: Sorry I bothered you.
KS: You've never bothered me.
MVL: That's a bold-faced lie.
KS: Are you sure you're okay? What are you doing right now?
MVL: Absolutely not lying on a bathroom floor in some shack somewhere.
KS: Mika...
MVL: How do you do that?
KS: Do what?
MVL: Make me feel like I'm in trouble just by saying my name. You've done that the entire time I've known you.
KS: I didn't even say your name. I thought it.
MVL: That's even worse.
KS: I worry about you.
MVL: Don't.
KS: You can't tell me you're lying on a bathroom floor somewhere, give me NO context, and then tell me not to worry about you.
MVL: I see your point. I'm fine. Just war stuff.
KS: 'War stuff'. Wow. That makes me feel so much better. Gods, you're such a prick.
MVL: I'm sorry. I shouldn't have contacted you. Moment of weakness.
KS: At least tell me if you're safe.
MVL: At this present moment, I'm safe.
KS: I don't know what you went through today, but I do know you should get some rest.
MVL: You're probably right.
KS: You must have a fever or a concussion or both because there's no way you'd say those words to me in your right mind.
MVL: Whatever.
KS: Just close your eyes. I'll stay with you til you fall asleep.
And that's it! The last chapter before Mika finally gets to go back to Vampire Mountain and we catch up with the canonical start of book 7. His time away ended up taking up way more chapters than I intended but I felt like I couldn't just skip over five years worth of character development after the events of book 6 basically turned his life upside down and set it on fire. He's doing his best, okay?
I wasn't going to have Mika and Kurda communicate again so soon after The Reunion but I needed the serotonin so I did it. Guys, I hate hate hate writing Kurda in exile but it was the only way I could spare his life. I couldn't imagine a scenario in which the clan would let him stick around after the events of book 6. So here we are.
Thanks for reading! If you feel like it, feedback would be phenomenal.
I freaking love you guys. See you next time!
- Roxy