Thomas violently woke up, quickly sitting up in his bed. A bed? he thought and looked around.

"Allison," he said quietly at the sight of the brunette standing at the window in thought. She turned around with a wide smile.

"Tom!" she cried out and hurried to sit by his side, taking his hand into hers.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, watching him dilligently.

"I... I don't know," he said, realizing that the agonizing pain from before was gone. He uncovered the blanket from his legs to see the damage Dennis made. They were fine.

"What am I wearing?" Thomas wondered, noticing that somebody had to change him into pyjamas and he blushed at the thought.

"I don't know, you were like this when I came."

"Where am I?"

"At Michendros'... he found you."

It all came back suddenly. The fall, the horrid creature that caught him and then... Mich.

"What happened?" Allison urged.

"He didn't tell you?"

"Just parts... that he caught you when they tossed you off a cliff. That's basically it. We were lucky that he found you in time. He said that if he appeared a bit later, it might have been late."

Thomas gulped and nodded, silently thankful for Michendros not sharing his terrible state and breakdown he had in front of him.

"So?" Allison asked for the third time.

"I think... that my mom finally lost it. She... she let them kick me off the mountain."

"Gosh, I am so sorry, Thomas. If I could I would give her such a -"

"That's okay, Allison. I... I don't really want to think about her now."

"Yeah, right. You relax now, okay? You're in good hands," she said, smiling, "I gotta go now, I am late for work. God, I am so glad you're alright."

Allison hugged him tightly and pressed a kiss into his hair.

"Allison?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you have some cigarettes in your bag?"

"I do... you want some?"

"Yes, please."

Allison took out her Marlboro package and looked at it, deciding to leave him the whole pack. She laid it on the night table and said: "Welcome to the smokers club, again."

"I am not starting again. It's just for the nerves."

"Sure, sure," she said and waved him goodbye as she left the room.

Thomas picked up the Marlboro package and looked at it, sighing. He felt weak. Just a pair of handcuffes made him uncapable of defending himself properly. I rely too much on magic, I guess, he thought.

His blue eyes shot towards the door. Is he home?

Thomas recalled his memories from previous night and cringed at them a bit.

"Fuck," he let out quietly. Thomas felt suddenly so dependent. Dependent on Michendros in this case. He didn't want to be dependent on anyone, though. The worst thing was that if that man didn't have a thing for Thomas, he would have probably let him die, right?

Thomas shook these thoughts of and looked at the door, again. He needed to face him at some point. So, he stood up and glanced into the mirror next to the door.

He was wearing dark blue pyjamas from a very smooth and shiny material. Silk, Thomas guessed.

Slowly, he put his hand onto the silver doorknob and turned it around. He walked out onto a halfway that was decorated with paitings and plants. He stopped to listen for any sounds, trying to figure out if he's somewhere around. Suddenly, he heard water flowing. He followed that sound and ended up at a door frame which was leading into the kitchen where Michendros was drying his hands with a small hand towel. Michendros glanced up at Thomas who immediately looked down at the floor.

"Did you sleep well?" Michendros asked softly, returning to his piece of dough he had lying on the kitchen counter. Thomas slowly approached one of the bar stools and sat down in it.

"Yeah," he mumbled at looked at Michendros back, feeling a bit awkward. Michendros stuffed the dough into a bowl and covered it with another hand towel, then he turned around, cleaning his hands with a paper towel which he then skillfully threw into the bin.

"I am happy to hear that," Michendros answered with a smile. Thomas averted his gaze from Michendros, feeling as if the smiles he gave Thomas were fake.

Michendros walked around the bar and stopped next to Thomas, he leaned on the surface of the bar and looked at Thomas.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he offered. Thomas turned his head to see him and quickly rejected his suggestion: "No, no need. I am fine."

"Of course you are," Michendros said with a hint of irony, but his voice still sounded calming.

"What I wanted... to say," Thomas began, "I wanted to say thanks. You needn't worry about me anymore. They think I am dead. I'll just lay low. I'll manage on my own from now."

Michendros raised his eyebrows at him: "I don't mind you being around, though. I like your company."

"Look, I know... I get that you have a thing for me and that's why you are so nice and all... but I don't want to owe you anything, okay?"

Michendros smile faded and he straightened back up: "I am sorry for giving you this impression, Tommy," he said neutrally. He walked back to his bowl of dough and put it into the fridge.

"What?" Thomas asked, confused a bit. Michendros turned around to him and found his blue eyes. "Sure, I like you... But it saddens me that you think that I am that superficial. If you don't 'have a thing' for me, that's fine. I can get over a crush. But that doesn't mean I would stop caring about you just like that."

"You don't even know me," Thomas said.

"Yet here we are," Michendros said with a sad smile.

Thomas glanced up at the man in front of him. Maybe, I judged him to harshly. He has emotions, too, as it seems. Weird that such a inhuman being can be so... mundane, Thomas thought and massaged his forehead.

"Where do you want to go?" Michendros asked suddenly.

"Home-," Thomas stopped, realizing where 'home' was.

"What's wrong?" Michendros noticed his odd pause.

"Uhm," Thomas said and felt ashamed to say so, "I... I live in the same house... as her."

Michendros approached the bar and leaned on it with his arms, being now only about 12 inches from Thomas' face.

"You live with your mother who tried to kill you?"

Thomas felt relieved that Mich didn't pick on him because of the fact that he still lived with his mother, being almost thirty years old.

"Sounds problematic," Michendros added when Thomas didn't answer.

"Yeah," Thomas admitted, "I guess I need to move to a different state or something. Maybe even country..."

"You want to run away?" Michendros asked and kept watching Thomas' eyes.

"Well, what else should I do?"

"Stay here," Michendros said shortly.

"Here?" Thomas asked, bewildered.

"Yeah, why not. I have two spare bedrooms. Take one of them."

"What? I can't just... I couldn't afford to pay the rent, this place his huge."

"Don't worry about the rent, I own the building."

"Oh... but I can't just live here for free, you have to pay the bills."

"Hm, you can work for me, then. I presume your old job is out of the question when your mother knew that you work there..."

"Work for you?" Thomas imagined a few horrid scenarios where he had to do the dirty work for him.

"Yeah, and you get to live here then."

"And... what would you want me to do?" Thomas asked carefully.

"Uhmm, the stuff I am lazy to do," Michendros chuckled and straightened his back again, grabbing an apple from a bowl on the bar.

"What is that?"

Michendros seemed in thought, as if trying to figure quickly out how to employ Thomas.

"You... could be the landlord! You know, deal everyone's apartment issues. I usually let the receptionist downstairs deal these things for me."

"You want me to take care of this building?"

"Well, you ought to. You live here."

"Wait... I haven't even agreed to it yet."

"But you are considering it, aren't you?"

It was a dillema for Thomas. He liked the idea of staying in New York, close to Allison, the sane and only relative he had left. He thought of Stiles, too, with whom he pretended to be friends before all this happened. He felt anxious thinking about that.

"Does Stiles hate me?" Thomas asked out of the blue. Michendros eyebrows shot up in surprise, not expecting such a change of topic.

"I don't think so, no."

"Hm," Thomas hummed and looked at his hands.

"Why do you ask?" Michendros said and took a bite of the apple he has been holding.

"I... I haven't properly talked to him since... you know. I used him when he was weak... I guess now I understand how it had to feel to be helpless in such a dire situation."

"You still have a chance to talk with him about it, if you stay."

Thomas slowly nodded, accepting another favor from this man. He definitely didn't want to get used to be dependent on Michendros, but it seemed so simple. An easy solution to his troubles. And Thomas didn't feel that he could really handle more stress for now.

Michendros' face lighted up and he walked to Thomas, giving him a tight hug from behind, startling Thomas with the sudden familiarity.

"Welcome to your new home, roomie," Michendros said.

...

Lydia stayed the night at her father's.

The next day, Stolos was already stepping around in front of the house, waiting for somebody open him the door.

After a few minutes, the large wooden door opened with a squeak.

"Come on in, son," Mr. Martin said and stepped aside for him to entry. Stolos himself was quite taken aback by Lydia's father change in attitude. Stolos repaied him with a polite smile and walked in.

"Where's Lyds?" Stolos asked.

"She's making us some coffee, come to the living room, she'll bring it there."

Stolos followed the man through the hallway right into the dim-lit room. They sat down in front of each other, Lydia's father watching Stolos carefully.

"So... do you really mean it with her?" he finally asked.

"Yes, sir," Stolos said automatically, looking around and hoping that Lydia would come soon.

"Because if not, then-"

"Then what, Mr. Martin?" Stolos asked in a steady tone which made Robert to lose his confidence.

"Well, just don't break her heart."

"What are you two talking about?" Lydia said from the doorframe with a chastening voice.

"Nothing, nothing," her father said. Stolos stood up, waited for Lydia to put fown the tray and hugged her firmly and kissing her lightly on the lips.

"I missed you," he said, caressing her cheek.

"Sweetie, it hasn't even been a day. Is everything alright?"

They sat down on the couch and Lydia put her hand on Stolos' knee. Robert picked up a cup of coffee and started drinking it.

"Allison was right. Tommy was actually in danger. Mich was able to find him in time, though. He had to be pretty beaten up because when they returned, Tommy was surrounded by Mich's magic basically. He had to heal him all over his body, really."

"Oh, god," Lydia gasped, "who did that? His mom?"

"Yeah, I think so. Mich said they threw him off a cliff. He luckily caught him in time."

"In the air? With his silky wings?"

"Yeah," Stolos sighed, "with his silky wings."

"Cool," Lydia admitted, trying to remember since when she became so comfortable with their capibilites.

"Who's Tommy?" Mr. Martin interrupted their dialog.

"Allison's cousin, he's a witch, actually!" Lydia explained.

"A witch, eh?"

"Magician, I'd say," Stolos corrected Lydia who rolled her eyes at him.

"Hm, hm, and is that fella doing okay now?" Lydia's father asked.

"Yeah, he's at my brother's now, resting," Stolos answered.

The room was quiet for a second or two. Stolos took a sip of his coffee and laid a hand around Lydia, silently appreciating her presence.

"So," Mr. Martin began carefully, "about Scarlett... Is it possible to find the hunters?"

Mr. Martin watched Stolos dilligently, hoping for a positive answer. He still wasn't sure about him. Rationally, he knew that Stolos helped him with his wife and that he seems to be on their side. Emotionally, on the other hand, he was still on alert. Stolos' behavior towards him was just polite, but didn't seem friendly. As if Stolos treated him well only for Lydia's sake.

"Yeah... I did look into that a bit," Stolos answered, "after Mich went after Thomas. I actually wanted to ask you what would you like to do with them. It's a whole organisation, they are pretty religious and that's why they do that. Anything inhuman is a demon to them, therefore deserves annihilating. Do you want them all dead? Or just the two who killed Scarlett?" Stolos asked nonchalantly as if was Robert supposed to choose a meal.

Lydia's father looked at his daughter who stared at her boyfriend intently. Mr. Martin scratched his forehead and said: "Well, boy, when you say it like that... it makes it pretty real," he laughed nervously.

"It does, yeah" Lydia agreed quietly.

"We don't have to do anything at all," Stolos suggested, "it's your choice."

"No," Mr. Martin said more confidently, "I want them to carry consequences for what they did."

"And what consequences?" Stolos asked.

"...I am not sure... maybe if I could talk with them first. If they were maybe... made to do so... it would change the situation."

"So, you would like to talk to them at first, then decide?" Stolos paraphrased to make sure.

"Yes, I would like to do that."

Stolos shrugged and finished his coffee. "Alright, then, right now?"

"You really do everything on the spot, eh?" Robert commented Stolos' attitude, "not that I mind... but what do you wanna do exactly?"

"I was thinking I'd just bring them here," Stolos answered.

"Here?" Lydia wondered, "isn't that... I don't know..."

"It's easier for you. You don't have to travel anywhere."

"Well, boy, if you promise that nothing happens to my Lydia, then why not," Mr. Martin said steadily.

"Not you nor Lydia will get hurt, I promise," Stolos reassured him, "now, give me a second." With that, he vanished into thin air, making Lydia gasp in surprise.

"This transportation trick is really something I gotta get used to," she commented.

"He's kinda like Doctor Who, huh," Lydia's father stated while watching the empty spot where Stolos just sat a minute ago, "just without the box and scarier"

...

Michendros left Thomas alone in the apartment as he went to do something. Or at least that's what he told Thomas: "I gotta go do something. While I am gone, choose a room. Mine is with the bed that has red coveres."

I wonder what he went to do, Thomas thought as he explored the other rooms, looking for the second bedroom. I already woke up in one, so there's gotta be a second one. Thomas opened a door that lead to a spacious bedroom with a huge bed in the middle of it. Red covers, Thomas thought.

This needs to be his room. He felt a little bad snooping but he wanted to look around a bit. There was a nice leather sofa at the windows, again a lot of decoration as paintings, some small sculptures and plants. He really likes his decor.

Thomas turned around and noticed a sword hanging on the wall. Is it real? he thought. He came closer and looked at the scabbard with letters he didn't recognize. Could be chinese, I guess.

Is he doing something awful? That's why he didn't specify? Thomas lurked around the apartment a bit more and after a few doors, he finally found the second bedroom. His eyes immediately darted to the balcony. I want a smoke.

The balcony basically decided for Thomas and even though the room was a bit smaller and didn't have its own bathroom, he quickly moved his stuff into the new room. His stuff being the package of cigarettes Allison left him.

Thomas went to the kitchen, looking for matches or a lighter. Fuck, does he never light anything up?

He realized then that Michenderos' could probably do easily without a match to make a fire. Thomas then left to the balcony and sat on a metalic chair, putting one cigarette out of the package and staring at it.

I gotta know a spell for lighting a fucking cigarette. He began quietly chanting and staring intensely at the end of the cigarette. Thomas felt a few drops of sweat dripping down his forehead but the effort was paying off and the cigarette finally started emitting a small cloud of smoke. With a fast movement of his hand, he inhaled from the cigarette, feeling relief.

Fucking finally.

He relaxed and watched the birds flying in the sky.

So, I stay here for a bit. Get myself together. Then I leave... I want to leave, right? What would I do here... I am not like Allison, going from enemies to lovers. I know that she told me how he is... when he's with her. The hostility from before was only... created by the hate the coven spread. We did cage him for years. God... and they really did want to kill me. How did I not notice it before...

Suddenly, Thomas stopped his thought-flow as he noticed a weird sound. He focused on it and looked around. It's like... as if... he didn't finish his thought because the weird sound disappeared at once.

It was like breathing, right? God... I hope I am not getting hallucinations. Before he finished his cigarette, he used it for igniting a second one.

A light knock behind him startled him and Thomas jumped up from his seat.

"Sorry," Michendros apologized after he walked out onto the balcony, "didn't want to scare you."

Thomas didn't answer and just stared at him.

I was definitely scared of you yesterday, Thomas thought, remembering his breakdown.

Michendros approached him and leaned against the railing. "How are you doing?"

"I am fine," Thomas answered shortly and put the cigarette back into his mouth, sitting down into the chair again.

"You don't have to pretend to be fine, you know. That's not gonna help. What happened to you is unnatural, it could leave some scars."

"You are the one to talk, you seem pretty fine to me. And you got cut to pieces," Thomas answered, sounding on edge. Michendros sighed and sat down into the chair next to him.

"Well... I did acquire some hardiness along the way, so I don't fall apart that easily, that's true. But I never said that what you did to me didn't leave a scar."

Thomas eyes widened and looked at Michendros. Did I really hurt him this much?

"What do you mean?"

"Um, since then, I have a little trouble concentrating. It's like my thoughts are easily distracted. I guess that has something in common with not being in one place in one piece. I am working on it, though. I just have to focus more. And then, well, it really left scars. I just covered it up with a simple spell. Maybe, if I get reborn again, they won't be there anymore."

"Scars?" Thomas said, feeling his eyes sting.

"Yeah... the places you separated..."

"I... I didn't know. I am sorry," Thomas said genuienly. Michendros always looked so up-beat, carefree. He didn't think that his 'murder attempt' had any impact on him. After all, here he was.

"Yeah, things happen," Michendros said with a shrug.

"Why... why do you want to have me around then? I don't get it."

"I guess... I get lonely," Michendros chuckled but didn't seem entertained at all.

"But I hurt you-"

"Yeah, I might be a bit masochistic, huh? Or maybe not... Being cut into pieces wasn't that pleasant."

"You felt that?!"

"Yeah, of course. It was more like a lock-in coma. It was dark, I didn't hear anything... but I felt it. I guess that's why I can't focus much. Maybe my nervous system is still putting itself together."

Thomas felt nauseous, he put the cigarette down on the table that separated him and Mich. I didn't think... that I'd be cutting him up conscious... and he still... saved my life. He let me stay here. Thomas felt tears flowing down his cheeks, feeling a tension build up in his chest.

"Tommy, no, I didn't tell you to make you cry," he said softly and stood up. Those words made Thomas just break down more, trying to catch breath. He slipped down the chair and put his hands on his chest that started to hurt from the tension building up inside. Breathing became quicker and Thomas vision started to become blurry.

"Thomas!" he heard and felt a touch on his cheek. Michendros put his other hand onto Thomas' chest and the other one slided down to his adam's apple.

"Breathe," Michendros said calmly but sounded directive.

Thomas suddenly felt air flowing down his throat again, his breathing slowly returning to normal. Thomas touched Michendros' hand that was on his neck and looked him into the eyes.

"What was that?" Thomas panted.

"Panic attack," Michendros stated and withdrew his hands from Thomas.

"Why do you keep helping me?" Thomas asked in a weak voice.

Michendros moved slowly to sit down next to him on the cold tiles and said: "I don't know. I guess you remind me of Stolos a bit."

"Stolos?"

"Yeah... he's a bit hot-headed. Stubborn... In one life we had, he was trying to hunt down my friend actually. I was pretty scared of him," Michendros laughed shortly, "he was on a wrong path... and then he worked it out, joined our cause in the end. We became friends - haha and then he got his memories back and remembered what he is. So it got a bit complicated again before I got everything back again... well, you see? I am really rambling on, not concentrating on what's important."

Thomas looked at him and touched his shoulder lightly. There I made the first cut.

Michendros noticed Thomas' gaze but decided to say nothing.

"I never thought... I feel fucking awful. At that time... it seemed so simple."

"Hm," Michendros hummed and laid his head on his knees. They were silent for a bit, before Thomas suddenly blurted out: "Where were you before? I thought I heard-" he stopped mid-sentence. No, I just imagined that.

"What did you hear?" Michendros wondered.

"Oh... probably nothing. I guess I really am in shock or something."

Michendros didn't say anything for a while, only watched Thomas silently who sat there, feeling more down than before.

"Do you prefer pepperoni or ham on your pizza?" Michendros asked.

"What?"

"You heard me."

"I guess... ham?"

"Good. I bought plenty of ham."

"That's what you were doing?"

"Yeah. I didn't want to spoil the surprise. Allison told me that your comfort food is pizza. That's why I made the dough in the morning. I just went to buy some other stuff so you can have a lotta things in it."

Thomas stared at Michendros in disbelief. He didn't go do anything messed up. He was just buying ingredients for a pizza... for me.

Tears began rolling down again which startled Michendros' who's head shot up in panic.

"No, no, no, please don't cry. We don't have to make pizza," Michendros said quickly, "I am sorry, I didn't want to make you cry again," Michendros said sadly.

"Stop," Thomas got out of him in between the sobbing, "ap-appologizing," he said and covered his face in his palms.

Michendros tried to comfort him with putting an arm around his shoulders but Thomas shook him off and moved to the side: "Don't."

Thomas wiped away his tears and took a breath in. "Show me," he demanded.

"What?" Michendros asked confused.

"The scars, I want to see what I did to you. I need to see it."

"No, I don't want you to cry anymore," Michendros said and crosded his arms on his chest.

"Please, I want to see the conequence of my actions," he said desperately.

"Have you considered that I don't want to show off my scars?" Michendros asked. Thomas gulped and looked away, slowly nodding.

"You're right. I am sorry. You really shouldn't have bothered last night...," Thomas said quietly.

"Alright, that's enough," Michendros said strictly and without warning, he slipped his hands underneath Thomas and picked him up.

"What are you doing?!" Thomas asked in panic as Michendros carried him back inside. Thomas folded his hands on his chest and stared at Michendros' beard, thinking what could be going on in his head. Even though, it was his born given skill - to be able to read minds - Michendros' was just blank for him.

Michendros carried him all the way to the kitchen and stopped by the kitchen counter.

"Now let me tell you what's going to happen now," Michendros looked down at Thomas who was still obediently in his arms. "I will put you down now, you'll wash your hands properly and then you'll put something from what I've bought on the dough I'll roll out, clear?"

"You... you want me to cook with you?" Thomas asked carefully.

"Yes," Michendros said and put Thomas down, back on his feet. Thomas felt a little light-headed and looked for something to hold onto, but Michendros grabbed him firmly by his arms first and looked him into the eyes. "Having just coffee and a cigarette isn't a proper breakfast, if you want to do something for me, eat something more nourishing tomorrow."

...

Out of nowhere, three people appeared in front of Lydia and her father. A man around his forties and a younger-looking blonde woman stood in front of Stolos in bewilderment, the man already pulling out his gun.

"Nope, you sit down," Stolos said and the hunters immediately fell to their knees, paralyzed. Stolos walked around them to sit back down next to Lydia who watched the two hunters with ambivalent feelings.