Harry's POV
I was cold, far colder than I should have been, than I had ever been in my apartment. I groped around blindly, and felt that yes, my blankets were still piled on top of me, so I shouldn't be feeling this way. That was when my tired, sluggish mind finally realized that hey, something was wrong. I forced my eyes open and saw it, a tear in the very air. A sweet, spring smell wafted through it, along with a mismatched frozen breeze. Oh, fuck, the Nevernever. Something from the Nevernever was in here. I tried to scramble up, so I could get my blasting rod or my staff or something to defend myself, but a thin, strong hand pressed into my chest and pushed me back down. I followed the hand up a pale, lovely arm, over a shoulder, up a neck, to see my Godmother Lea's unearthly gorgeous face. Her red hair fell in a controlled mess down her back, her sapphire dress sparkling even in the darkness.
"Hush, my child, I am not here to harm you this night. I am here to help." I scrambled back and away from her, tired and confused, frightened. She smiled sweetly, raspberry lips curled just so, and her hand shifted to settle atop my head.
"What the hell are you doing here, Lea?" I hissed. She just kept smiling.
"Can I not visit my own godson, sweet one?" I glared.
"Hell's Bells, maybe if you give some notice first. Stones, Lea, it's the middle of the night." She cocked her head innocently.
"La. It matters not the time, dear child. I care for you, and I have seen the problem that now plagues your life. I should like to fix it for you." Oh, Stars and fucking Stones. When Lea tried to 'fix' my life, she did it in the loosest, most insane sense of the word. I still remember the week she turned my hair green to get me to start taking better care of it. Murph still questions why I wore a hat all that week, when she knows I hate hats. There was also that one time with the rabbit and the pixie wings I preferred not to remember or think about or mention to anyone, ever. I still don't know whether she had an actual lesson buried somewhere in that one, or if she was just bored. I am generally her favorite plaything when she's bored, so a lot of her 'help' gets to double as her entertainment. She still insists on repayment for it, though, and the more ridiculous the service she does, the higher the payment she wants. Hell, she tried to get my firstborn out of that rabbit and pixie wing fiasco. I ended up talking her down to a box of Girl Scout Cookies and a really big rock I still don't know why I had in my lab. Look, that was a weird week, okay? Shut up.
"Lea, my life has been fine, lately. Perfectly joyous and magical and as perfect as it's probably going to get. I don't need you to fix anything for me." She laughed, and stroked her hand through my hair, twirling her fingers around in it. I could feel her power thrum through me suddenly, turn muscles to goo and my mind to mush. I knew I should be upset by that, should try to get away, but the exact reason why was elusive. It felt good, nice, calm, why should I have to move? Why shouldn't I just enjoy it? There was a reason, I knew there was, but I couldn't find it amidst the hazy pleasure. Lea spoke again and her voice was like heaven, her lips frozen and stinging and beautiful when they pressed a kiss to my forehead. I sighed, all my breath leaving me in what quick burst. I fell limp into her arms, and she smiled like how I'd always figured a mother smiled, from what I'd seen of Charity and her kids.
"Of course you don't know, silly boy. Your beloved brother, and your mafia don. They are fighting over you, and I'd like to help you settle them, dearest. You need not more fighting in your life." Huh? What the hell was she talking about?
"Thomas and Marcone?" I mumbled, "They haven't even seen each other since Marcone brought us home from Mac's, and they weren't fighting then." Lea laughed, and picked me up, my body hanging awkwardly in her arms. Yeah, my limbs are way too long for a bridal carry to look anything but awkward, at least when I'm the one being carried. Especially by a relatively petite woman, like Lea.
"My sweet, you're such a foolish darling, truly. They've seen quite a bit of one another, recently. Maggie's blood is virulent in you both, you know. His protectiveness of you is rather astounding, and he believes your mobster is a threat. He isn't, of course, he is simply your intended, yet Maggie's eldest has no way of knowing as such yet. And your intended has an amazing number of unfounded assumptions about yourself and your brother, believes the two of you to be sporting quite regularly. He is angered and jealous and disgusted, as well as worried, for he fears the danger Thomas' heritage could pose." There were way too many big words in that statement for me to understand right now. I felt the cold intensify as Lea carried me through the rip to the Nevernever, felt the hole close up behind us. Her footsteps were soundless on the green grass beneath us, and my feet swayed with her steps. Her dress was soft and comfortable, so I pressed my face against it. She smiled down at me, all the caring a fairy could possibly show visible on her face. She walked until we reached a nice looking cabin styled house.
It was warm inside, with a fire blazing brightly in the hearth. She settled me on a pallet of blankets beside it, and sat beside me, pulling my head into her lap. I let out another heavy sigh, my brain still insisting that this was bad and wrong and I should be doing something, I should be saying something that had some kind of 'f' sound. I finally told it to shut the fuck up, and closed my eyes. Her fingers began to put tiny braids in my hair, and with the rhythmic, gentle pulling, I fell closer and closer to sleep.
"You truly would make the best hound, sweet one," she mumbled, and that was the last thing I heard before I was out. With it, came the memory of why I should be trying to get away. I was too tired to bother, though.
Marcone's POV
I stared at the device on my table, unspeakably glad that Harry's animals hadn't yet alerted him to the second listening implement Hendricks had placed for me. Lea. Godmother. The Leansidhe. A sudden spark of hate for Harry's mother shot through me. This was all her fault. She was the one who'd consorted with the Leansidhe, had apparently made her the godmother of her own son. If she hadn't then this wouldn't be happening, Harry wouldn't have gotten… kidnapped? Had he been kidnapped? Something had certainly happened, from how suddenly calm his voice had become, how unearthly quiet the room had gotten. I called Gard immediately, even though night had long fallen, and she'd already left the office for the night. Her voice, however, was still crisp and aware, as though I needed another reminder to her superiority over the average mortal. I wondered if she even needed sleep, for a moment, but my curiosity was quickly overridden by my worry.
"Mr. Marcone? Has something happened?"
"Yes, Harry has been taken." She was quiet, for a moment, seemed to be mulling over my words.
"Are you certain? How do you know?" I sighed, more frightened than I wanted to admit because the more time I spent talking, explaining, the more time he'd be alone with that damnable fairy who wanted to do god knows what with him.
"Yes, of course I am," I said, more harshly than I intended, "The dog didn't find the other device you and Mr. Hendricks planted. A woman got into his room, he called her Lea, mentioned she was his godmother. I assumed it was the Leansidhe." Once more Gard paused.
"Godmother? That makes a strange sort of sense, I suppose. The mortals that are willing to trust a fairy will trust it with near anything, including, apparently, a child. If it was the Leansidhe, however, there is little we can do until morning." I growled, softly, my fists clenching into the fabric of my slacks.
"Why the hell not?" I could only imagine her annoyed look.
"By the time we were able to reach her, it would be the Witching Hour, or close enough that it'd make little difference. Were we to attack her at that time, especially with it being so near the Winter Solstice, it'd be little more than suicide. It'd be far smarter to wait until noon tomorrow, when she'll be at her weakest for the day, and pray it's warmer than it has been recently." I slammed my fist against the table, though I knew Gard wouldn't react to my anger.
"So you expect me to wait all night?"
"If you don't want to die, then yes. You've got no chance against her right now, Mr. Marcone. If I thought you'd listen, I'd say let her keep him until Winter's power wanes with the Summer Solstice. I do not believe she will harm him anyway." I sneered at nothing, simply to make myself feel better.
"Why wouldn't she?" I hissed out.
"Mr. Dresden's mother likely made a bargain with her, sir, one relating to him and his protection. That is what having a fairy godmother means, Mr. Marcone. The Leansidhe, if it truly is her that came into Harry's room, will honor her position. She'd never be able to harm a man under her protection. She may try to grant that protection in strange, and frankly psychotic ways, to mortals at the least, but she will protect him with her own life. If she's kidnapped him, it's to prove some sort of point, or perhaps she thinks he'd be in danger if he were to stay here in the mortal plane." I still didn't like it. I still didn't want to let it rest. Still, Gard had made it rather clear that when she wanted to wait, she would wait, whether I went or not, and if she thought it'd be suicide with her along, I damn well didn't want to try it on my own. Besides, I'd have no idea on how to find them on my own.
"Alright, Ms. Gard. I'll wait until noon tomorrow, then. Get a team together, if you can." I hung up before she could give the affirmative I knew was coming, and clutched at my head tightly, fear gnawing at my guts. Even after I went to my room, I couldn't sleep, that evening.
Thomas' POV
As soon as I couldn't get through to Harry, either at his home or his office, I thought of Marcone, Marcone who'd said he would have Harry no matter what I did, Marcone who could somehow get through Harry's wards, Marcone who was crazy as fuck about my baby brother. Empty Night, I do sound a little crazy too, don't I? I wonder if I'd be any worse if Harry was my baby sister instead. I couldn't recall ever being this weird about any of Inari's various suitors, but then I hadn't been around her as much as I'd have liked to have been, and none of her boyfriends had been batshit goddamned insane like Marcone is. It was early, only about nine o'clock, but I was sure the fuck would be working by now. Unless, my mind supplied, he's deflowering your little brother. I cursed and jumped into my car. For the second time in as many days, I sped off to Marcone's place. I did get caught speeding this time, though. The cop was very understanding, however, at least after I gave her my number. Okay, yeah, my powers do come in handy on occasion. I've never gotten a ticket in my life, and I've broken, at last count, seventy three traffic laws across multiple states, some of them multiple times (like speeding). I kept a little journal of how many tickets I've gotten out of. It was four hundred and thirty three, the last time I looked. I stopped filling it out about three months ago, because it was getting sort of depressing.
When I got to Marcone's place, it seemed even more extravagant than it had the previous night. The guards at the front still didn't have a chance against me, though. I felt sort of bad for one of them, because he'd been there last night too, but damn it, he wasn't anywhere near as important as Harry, so I left him where he lay and ran up to the house. I didn't hit any wards, this time, so I guessed that no one had had time to reset them yet. I crashed by a fuck load of people and up a flight of stairs, towards where I knew Marcone's office was, a warning klaxon going off suddenly loudly. I shouldered down Marcone's office door and got a gun to my face before I could blink. Marcone's eyes were cold and unblinking down the barrel. I bared my teeth at him again, because hell, he thought I was some wild animal anyway, and I had no reason to prove him wrong, not really. I didn't give a damn what he thought of me, if it kept my only brother, my blood, safe.
"I must say I'm not thrilled to be seeing you again so soon, Mr. Raith," Marcone said, somehow managing to be heard over the klaxon and still sound perfectly composed. I barked a laugh.
"I could say the same. What the hell did you do with him, Marcone? Where have you got him penned up?" The barrel pressed harder against my forehead. I pressed closer to it mockingly, even though I wasn't totally sure I'd be able to recover from a bullet to the brain just then, what with the strength I'd used last night. I saw his trigger finger twitch.
"I do not have him, Mr. Raith. Someone named Lea does. I heard it happen." I deflated, completely. Harry's godmother. The one gift our mother had given him that I didn't envy, the psycho crazy fairy bitch. She was dangerous, I knew. Harry had ran from her for years, came across her again when we met. He'd said something, a few times, about her wanting to turn him into a dog, about how she'd been after her pound of flesh since he was sixteen. I still didn't know the whole story, but I knew she'd done him some kind of favor and wanted all of him in return. It was times like this I wished he wasn't so fucking closed off, that he'd just tell me things like that, so I could help when shit inevitably hit the fan, like it always did, where he was involved. Marcone must have seen the sudden desperation in my face, because he lowered his gun and made a call that got the klaxon shut off. "Do you know who Lea is, Mr. Raith?" I nodded, though unwilling. He had resources, I knew that much. He could help me find my baby brother, then I could kick his ass away.
"Yeah, she's his godmother, a fairy. I still don't know what our mom was thinking," I hissed. That was the one thing I was truly resentful about. I didn't care that she left me with the Raith family, because I knew she had to, to save her own life. I didn't care that she'd left me with pretty much nothing but a pentacle and an imprint on my soul for a legacy, because apparently her legacy was shitty anyway, from how Harry's life seemed. So many of his problems stemmed from her, from things she'd done, mistakes she'd made. She was the reason the Fay were so interested in Harry. She was a big part of why the White Council hated him. She'd left him her enemies, her problems, as legacy. I got the better deal. I loved my mother with all I had, and I still do, usually, except when I think about how she'd left her own son to clean up her messes just because he'd been born with magic. "She's dangerous. Harry used to spend half his time running from her. It's gotten a little better, from what I've heard, since she sold his debt to Mab, but she still comes around sometimes, when things aren't going too well, to try and make a new deal with him. She's completely fucking insane." Marcone scrubbed at his hair, cut only a few millimeters longer than a military buzz, graying at the sides. I hated that in another life, I'd probably approve of him for Harry, because he was strong, because he could protect him, but this wasn't another life, this was the one I knew and he just wasn't right, wasn't good enough, and never would be good enough.
"Debt?" I nodded. I didn't quite know the entire story, but I knew a decent amount, enough to get by on. Of course, that was how most things in his life were. He did all he could to keep people he loved out of it.
"Yeah, he called on her when he was a teenager for some reason or another, I don't really know exactly why. She wanted his life in exchange, and he stiffed her for about twenty years. I don't know the reason behind this, either, but she sold the debt to Queen Mab, so now Harry owes her a favor. It used to be three, but he worked two off already. Where the fuck did she take him?"
"The Nevernever, somewhere. Ms. Gard is making plans to take me and some of my men there to rescue him." I nodded.
"I'm coming too then, asshole." He glared harshly at me, and the gun was suddenly up to my head again.
"No. I do not need a liability along." I snickered.
"Yeah, because human soldiers are totally not a liability in fucking Fairy. Mortals who go in there have this nasty habit of not coming back out, especially when Fay like Lea are involved. Hell, you'd be lucky if they all came back home missing a limb. Lea and her servants can make deals with the best of them. You have to remember that she's fourth in power in all of Winter, maybe even third. I've been through her domain before, Marcone. You could use me." He sneered.
"I'd rather not break him free from one brainwashing just to throw him into another." I growled, lunged forward and snatched the gun, only to have a knife pressed into my belly, as if I were part of the Red Court and he could cut open my blood reserves.
"I'm not using the Whammy on my own damned brother, bastard! I've never fucking slept with him, okay? I was saying that to get rid of you, and piss you off, but Harry's in danger and I don't feel like playing games with you right now. I don't like you, and I sure as hell don't trust you, but I can't get into the Nevernever by myself, at least not without a lot more time than we may have, so you're my best option to save him right now." Marcone lifted his chin and puffed out his chest, indulging in alpha male posturing I'd never needed to use.
"Why should I believe you?" he hissed. I laughed, maybe a little bitter, but not enough so that he could truly hear it.
"Because I'm a monster, Marcone, but I'm sure as hell not my father." I saw a flicker of surprise, of shock, dance across his face, which I assumed meant his entire world had just caved in around him.
"A truce, then? Until Harry is returned to us safely, of course." I nodded.
"Yeah, sure. Then I'll kick your ass into next week for all those lusty thoughts you get about him." He scoffed.
"I'm quite certain I'm not the only one, and I would assume he has them about others as well." I shrugged and passed him back his gun as he tucked away his knife.
"No, you're not. There's Murphy, and Kincaid, and Butters, and the Alphas, and his Captain, and his Warden, and, on one particularly horrifying occasion, Michael and Charity. At the exact same time. It was sort of freaky, to be honest. And he does have them, just really, really rarely. It's almost depressing how little that man thinks about sex, compared to how often other people think about sex with him. Now, are we going to fucking go or not? I want my baby brother back." He nodded, and made another call. Five minutes later, he, the Amazonian, the red-headed brick wall, and me were piled into a car with about five other guys, all of them outfitted with really big fucking guns, driving towards Harry's place. I let them in with my amulet, and we found the house empty but for his pets, as expected. Mouse had obviously been pacing worriedly all over the house, and even Mister was showing a bit more than his usual complete apathy. I patted the dog on the head and filled up their food, so Harry wouldn't be mad at me when he got back, as the Amazonian opened up a portal to the Nevernever, neat and clean. I grabbed his sword cane and the old sawed off shotgun before I stepped through behind them. We stepped through into a bright green garden filled with chilly air, and all seemed good and right with the world. Which was, of course, when the motherfucking giant goddamned centipede burst out of a patch of primroses to try and kill us. Fuck.
Marcone's POV
The thing was huge and dark in color, and the speed at which it moved was horrifyingly fast. It had one of my men down and was tearing into it before they could even draw their guns and open fire on it. The bullets, specially cast from iron, cut through its flesh like butter, and the wounds spouted now-familiar blue fire. The quickness with which they healed, however, was a bit shocking. Another of my men was felled, thrown into the patch of flowers. What the hell was this? I drew my own gun and started to tear into it as well, as Gard began to draw in the earth, her voice whispering out a chant.
"This is Lea's," Raith yelled over the din, diving forward to attack the thing with the sword cane he'd tucked into his belt. The iron dug into it deeply with uncomfortable squelching sounds, digging deep and coming out red before the vampire danced away again. I was once again struck by the sheer beauty of the White Court, of how they moved, the deadly dream that made up their entire existence. His flesh had grown inhumanly pale and shone brightly, as though he were a polished statue, and I knew that if I saw his eyes they'd look like mercury.
"How do you know?" I yelled back, firing another round into the beast. It landed a strike on Raith that sent him flying into the flowers. He coughed, and I caught sight of blood too pink to be human slipping from his mouth. He jumped up, shook himself off, fired the shotgun at the monster, and then ran back at it. There was more blood coming from what appeared to be tooth marks on his chest.
"Primroses!" he hollered, "Harry told me she liked them." Which, I supposed, only made sense since Gard had told me this was her garden. Perhaps this was some sort of guard dog she'd put into place. Gard clapped her hands, her chant finished, and from them burst a sharp knife of darkness that slid down the beasts throat and, presumably, exploded, from the way the centipede burst into many hundreds of bits and pieces.
"Come along," she said, "It's made to reform once killed, in greater numbers. All of these pieces will become a new one, I'm afraid, until the Leansidhe fuses them back together. We'll need to go quickly." That was enough to get Hendricks, me, Raith, and my three remaining men moving fast through the garden, towards a small cabin that had appeared in the distance. Thomas and I led the charge, the stamina granted to him by his vampirism carrying him, fleet-footed, over the uneven ground of the garden, whilst I was shoved on at the same speed by pure determination and rage.
Lea's POV
Mortals can be quite entertaining, when they aren't being bothersome little creatures. The Valkyrie, while not exactly mortal, was especially annoying, what with her damaging of my little pet. It'll take hours to fix it, now. I sighed, and once more ran my fingers through my godson's soft, still too-long hair. A few small braids hung in it, now, however, similar to those I'd often put in the fur of my longer-haired dogs. Harry, I supposed, would be rather shaggy, if he'd ever agree to let me keep him safe. I smiled down at him and undid the braids I'd done, deciding I may as well decorate him a bit, before his brother and his love came to fetch him from me. I waved a hand over my dress, and from it came thin, shimmering golden ribbon. I braided it into one thick plait over the line where he apparently parted it often. He sighed happily where he lay across my lap, pressing against the motion of my hand as he slept. I cupped his cheek softly, when I was done, ran my thumb over the sharp bone I found. He looked so very much like his mother, really, more so than his brother did, although I supposed his father had overridden many of her traits.
His strength strummed off of him endlessly, mingling into mine like a soft breeze, just as Maggie's once had, and the defiant set to his jaw, even as he slept beneath my influence, was certainly not unfamiliar. She'd never given into me, to what I could offer, and neither had he. I didn't expect him to, truly, and hadn't for many years, yet I shall try endlessly, for I do care for the foolish beast, despite knowing and well understanding his temporary nature, his weakness in the grand scheme of the world. His fight intrigued me, just as hers had, made me laugh and improve myself so that I might help him. I noticed a small scrape on his neck, dipping beneath his shirt, and healed it thoughtlessly, likely along with whatever other minor injuries that certainly coated him, as they always did. He groaned and shifted.
I glanced at the blood toned stone that held a place of honor upon my mantle, cut so as to perfectly fit the indentation on either of her sons' pentacles. She, too, had had little hope in the longevity of her youngest, especially after I told her that he would be born with magic.
She'd known he'd inherit the enemies she'd made, once his magic developed, although I suppose she hadn't thought he'd make his own quite as quickly as he had. I smiled as I remembered the first time I truly met him, when he was only a dirty-faced babe lost within the darkness of the woods, the Big Bad Wolf closing in on him, growing ever closer, ever more dangerous, with each passing breath. He'd not grown up, much, in that time, though I was unsure what I was expecting. It had been little more than a blink of an eye, since that time, at least for me.
His rescuers pounded suddenly, harshly at my door, some yelling, and I heaved a sigh, gently shaking my dearest godson awake. He yawned, loud and perhaps a bit squeaky; his eyes still sleep drunk, possibly a bit high on the goodness he felt, once I sucked the worry, the pain, the memories, away. I stood and smoothed down my gown, for of course I could not look un-put together when I had guests. I opened the door slowly, a smile splitting my face.
"Oh, guests! What a lovely situation, I've been expecting you! Mr. Raith and Mr. Marcone, especially, although I should have assumed Mr. Marcone would bring friends. I'm afraid you all aren't allowed inside, however; this home is dreadfully small, you see." Harry's brother's face went dark and deadly, as though he'd kill me. The thought only made me wish to laugh. He was a powerful being, I supposed, but certainly not on par with me, one of the Sidhe, right hand to Mab herself. My plans to take her down flitted through my mind, but I suppressed them quickly. It wouldn't do for her to discover them before I was ready to go through with it.
Needless to say, I could crush the little vampire before he even thought of moving against me. The don was angry as well, beneath the surface, but he hid his emotion beneath the blank wall of his face, perfect to hide from humans, but little more than tissue paper in the face of a being such as myself. He was so painfully mortal, normal, that I nearly felt a spark of compassion for him, for being so desperately out of his depth. It fled quickly, though, as I recalled that he was here by his own will, through his own actions. He'd been curious, upon meeting my godson, curious about his world, so curious that he began to seek the supernatural out. Perhaps, I supposed he wasn't quite as normal as I thought; most would have died long before now, if they did something so foolish. Through all these thoughts, I kept up my smile.
"Where the hell is he, Lea?" Thomas snarled at me, pure anger creating a mask for him, to hide that he was more afraid than anything; afraid I'd already killed Harry, afraid I'd kill him, afraid I'd offered his darling brother a fate worse than death, that he'd taken a deal from me. I saw it all spinning behind silver eyes.
"Do you mean my darling godson? He is here, of course. I'd not let anything happen to him, not as yet. He's far too interesting to let die so soon, and besides, it would be quite cruel of me to deny my Queen her last request of him."
"Show him to me, bitch," he hissed. I couldn't hold back the laugh, this time. Perhaps there was more of his mother in him than I'd thought.
"Come inside, child, you'll see him. He now rests by the fire. You as well, Mr. Marcone. I should like to speak with you both. No one else, however. You have my pledge that no harm will come to any of you whilst you remain in my garden." Marcone stepped forwards first, standing tall, brave before me, his green eyes sharp as emerald chips. The color, though… perhaps he had a changeling in the family. I allowed him entrance, and, not to be one-upped, Thomas marched in behind him. I closed the door and swept across the room to settle back by my godson, who'd drifted back into sleep, by the fire. Thomas crouched beside him, cradling his head, checking his pulse, while Marcone simply stood in front of me, gazing down at us.
"What'd you do to him?" Thomas grunted, shaking the boy's body to attempt to force him back to wakefulness. I sighed and settled a hand on his shoulder to stop him. He was painfully tense, and I noticed how drawn his face looked, as though his skin were zipped up too tightly around him.
"Simply allowed him rest, dear one. He sleeps deeply and peacefully, without the plague of his night terrors, and will awaken once he leaves my presence."
"Wake him up now." I smirked over at him.
"A child of Maggie you truly are, boy. I do not know why I suspected otherwise. Your stubbornness could only be exceeded by your brother."
"How the fuck do you know we're related?" he yelled, his hands shaking around Harry.
"Maggie was once my dearest companion, boy, and a candidate for Winter's mantle. The day I miss her blood is the day snow falls in Titania's court. Discussing your heritage, however, is not why I brought you two here." Marcone finally spoke up as he settled stiffly on the floor in front of me. Thomas undid the braid I'd placed in Harry's hair. I pouted. "Come now, Mr. Raith, I worked hard to do that. It has been ages since I've been able to play with his hair." He simply glared at me and I smiled as I took the ribbon from him.
"You did not bring us here, Leansidhe. We came of our own will, to save someone dear to us."
"You'll not be saving him, I'm afraid, because I would not harm him for my own life. He is quite dear to me. You would simply be bringing him home from a visit with his godmother, whom he also cares for. By the way, Mr. Marcone, would you have come here had I not done what I did?" He raised an eyebrow, likely running through my words to see whether agreeing or disagreeing would land him in something he'd not be able to get out of.
"No, I suppose I wouldn't have."
"Then I brought you here. Now, my reasoning for this was rather simple. You both care deeply for him, do you not? And yet you fight endlessly. He does not need more fighting in his life, not from those dear to him, not from his friends and his family. Whether he will allow it to continue or not, I won't." Thomas sneered, his thumb running soft circles over his brother's knuckles. The man whined and pressed his head closer to the elder's belly. Marcone slid a bit closer to the two nervously.
"Get rid of that bastard then. He isn't good for my brother."
"You don't think anyone but yourself is good for him, Mr. Raith. You'd keep him shuttered away, if you could. You claim it to be a desire to protect him, but perhaps there is more than that. Perhaps you are being selfish, Mr. Raith, perhaps you'd simply like to keep your only brother for yourself, now that your lover is out of your reach." He lashed out at me, his blade (one of Harry's, if I recalled), slashing towards me. I stopped it with a wave of my hand.
"You don't have any right to talk about Justine! Or my fucking brother! You don't know anything about any of us! You're just playing with us like you always do, you psychotic fucking fairy!" With my free hand I sent a wave of pure, angered power to him, pressed him down to the floor beside my godson.
"Do not presume to call me a fairy, boy. You are mortal enough that I could kill you if I wished, and do so easily. I am one of the Sidhe, and do not forget that. You live, in this realm, because my good will permits it. Do not force me to take it away. You are not my godson, child, and there is not enough of Maggie within you to make me think twice about your death." He fell silent, suddenly, and I released the pressure upon him. He sucked in a heavy breath. Oh, dear. I'd forgotten, again, that beings such as him needed oxygen. How silly of me. Mr. Marcone appeared considering. Perhaps he'd not known of Mr. Raith's former lover, now a servant of his eldest sister, the true ruler of the White Court who held her father's strings and made him dance.
"Leansidhe, please, do not toy with us. Mr. Raith and I do not get along. It is common, among mortals." I giggled.
"Indeed it is. Your kind fight endlessly, and I understand it, I suppose, though it seems rather silly, from way up here. Battling over religion, the color of your skin, the piece of rock you call your home, it's all so temporary and miniscule and certainly not your own choice, really. It all changes like the tides, the seasons. My dearest godson practiced Wicca, you know, for a while. Before he met his Carpenter friend. Still the entire planet is most certainly not friendly with my godson. I want you two to get along, and you will. Perhaps… I believe Harry himself could talk more sense into you two than I myself could. Godson, please do awaken." He groaned suddenly, low and a bit pained as all I'd blocked from him flooded back and forced him up into wakefulness. He gazed wearily around the room, and surprise brightened his features as he recognized its' occupants.
"Hell's Bells, what kind of dream is this? Christ. Lea, are you real, or is my subconscious fucking with me again?"
"I don't know how you can accept this answer, my child, but for what it's worth I am as real as I have ever been, as are Mr. Raith and Mr. Marcone. I brought you here so that those two could sort out their differences. I had been hoping to do it myself, but I suppose you must now step in."
Harry's POV
I don't understand my life anymore, really I don't. I mean, it's getting sort of ridiculous, even for me. I felt a headache gnawing at the base of my spine, only for it to slide up and began a steady throb behind my eyes. Apparently I now needed to sort out relationship issues between my brother and a mob boss. When had they gotten together, anyway? And why did Lea even care? This had to actually be a dream, really it did. This seemed like the exact sort of thing my ID would want to do for kicks. I heaved a world weary sigh that, yes, I totally have a right to.
"Okay, look, if you two are dating you can't have been doing it for long. What could you possibly already be fighting about?" The room fell silent. Lea coughed. Marcone looked like he couldn't breathe all of a sudden. Thomas burst out laughing.
"You… you think I'm fucking that? Empty Night, Harry, that's ridiculous! Haven't I already told you he wants to bang you? That's why we hate each other. I won't let him sneak into your room at night and defile your innocence. Shit, we already know he can get in there, since he's the one that planted the damned bugs. Or, his Amazonian did, I guess, probably with the help of his brick wall." What? Just… huh? Marcone was trying to rape me, and in order to do so put bugs in my house? Now, I've had some convoluted plans, I'll admit, but that seemed sort of… well, stupid. Yeah. So this probably was my ID. He wants me to do something that'll get Bob to yell 'bow chika bow wow' at me. Maybe he thinks the threat of a mob boss taking my virtue will get my ass into gear. He doesn't know the depth of my desire for complete and utter celibacy, though. He simply does not understand. Marcone glared.
"No, I put the bugs in his house so that I would know if you attempted to do something to him, Mr. Raith. You are dangerous, and his trust in you is terribly misplaced." Yeah, there. My ID was also pretty sure I was too trusting. This all had to be him. Besides, he was literally the only thing in existence that would be dumb enough to think Marcone would go this far just for a perceived threat to my safety. He hated me, and, I was pretty sure, was planning to kill me pretty soon, from the way he'd been acting in real life. Still, I couldn't let even dream Marcone get away with insulting my brother.
"Marcone, shut the hell up. I've explained this already; I love Thomas, and he loves me. As you've apparently found out, we're family. He'd never hurt me, and if you don't stop suggesting he would, I'll shove a hand grenade up your ass, and then, just to make it interesting, I'll sneak uranium into your breakfast cereal. I'll turn you into a nuke." Yes, I know, that probably wouldn't actually turn him into a nuke, but still, that was one of my favorite plots, and it worked in my head. I've got a cartoon sound effect that goes 'PEEEEEEEEEEEEEEW KABLOOM!' too. It's pretty funny, especially his expression right when he tastes the uranium in his (probably bland) cereal. Does Marcone even eat cereal? Probably not. That's poor people food. Chances are he dines on gold plated toast and diamond encrusted bacon, with a melted platinum protein shake. Still, the look on his face was a nice mixture: shock that something that dumb would come out of my mouth (as if he doesn't know me), and maybe even the tiniest trace of worry that I could actually do that. I felt pretty proud of myself. Thomas did too, for some reason. Marcone gaped for a second more before he shook his head and spoke again.
"I am only trying to keep you safe, Harry, as you seem far too foolish to do it on your own!" He sounded frustrated. I scratch my head.
"Yeah, sure. I'd have thought my ID could come up with some more realistic dialogue. This is pretty stupid. But, if I'm supposed to be playing relationship counselor, then I guess I should say that if you wanted to keep me safe, maybe you should help me go after the people who actually want to for real turn me into an oblong stain on a wall." He paused, and I felt Thomas' arms settle on my arms, his fingertips digging into my biceps. Marcone crawled forwards, to sit in front of me, his face far too close to mine, and clapped his hands down tightly onto my shoulders.
"You'd allow me to help you?" I raised my eyebrows.
"Marcone. Have you even seen some of the shit I fight? Yeah, if I can get help, I'll take it from pretty much anyone, so long as they're not evil, which you aren't. You're not saint, really, but you do bad for all the right reasons. Besides, I'm not a saint either, at all. I've done… more than a few bad things." Thomas tugged me into him softly, and Marcone followed, though he was quick to pull me towards himself instead. Damn it, I didn't want to get into a tug-of-war again, at least not as the rope. This was really weird anyway. I'd never seen that particular expression on Marcone's face, blazing and determined, warm and open while somehow retaining a strange, hard edge.
"Yes, Harry, killing monsters is so very terrible. I'm sure your soul has been stained irreparably," he mumbled, leaning in ever-closer. What the fuck was he doing, getting into my very own personal bubble? He'd never done his before. I didn't really know how to deal with it. My mouth decided the best method was talking, because hey, that's never gotten me into trouble before!
"I've killed people, too. I'm not a nice guy, Marcone. Never claimed to be. I'm no hero; I'm just a guy trying to save his friends. It's just that, for me, that usually also involves saving the rest of the world too." Even closer. I could feel his breath, too hot against my lips. Thomas' fingers were spasming uncontrollably at my arms.
"People can be monsters too," he grunted, and then, oh, hey there, he was kissing me. Like, full on lip to lip action. With tongue. Thomas jerked me hard and sent us both flying backwards.
"Fuck you!" he screamed, "He thinks he's sleeping! Don't you dare take advantage of him, you dick!" Marcone chuckled, his eyes lazy-lidded as he crept forwards again. I was, yet again, reminded of the first time we'd met, the day I'd seen the tiger inside the man. This was the most I'd ever seen of it outside of his soul. "He's too trusting! I've got to protect him, okay? I've got to keep him safe! I can't let him get hurt again," Thomas was yelling at Marcone but speaking to me, his arms wrapped tightly enough around my chest that I could hardly breathe for them. I hushed him, softly, patted his arm until he loosened his grasp enough that I could speak.
"Thomas, calm down, okay? Calm down, tell me what's wrong." He growled, quietly, almost softly enough I couldn't here.
"Everyone who gets near you wants something, and you'll always give it, no matter what it'll do to you. Hell, if someone you loved asked, you'd saw off your own damned foot before you even asked why they needed it. I have to make sure you don't do stuff like that. I've got to protect you, you know? For forever. I'm the big brother." I just had to laugh, some.
"Thomas, do you not know how many people in my life want to do literally the exact same thing? I don't really let any of them, and hey, guess what, I'm still kicking. I appreciate the help, and all, but I don't need a 24/7 body guard to defend me from all the ills of the world. I've seen plenty firsthand. I can deal with them myself." He coughed, and it might've been part of a laugh.
"Except for people who want to do you. Yeah, you've met plenty, but you don't ever notice, and if you do, you can't figure out how to handle it. That's what I do for you, baby brother. The evil fuck wants you, and he'd do anything. Don't you get that? He doesn't care, at all, if he has to hurt you, or anyone. He just wants you." I scrubbed at my head, far too tired to be dealing with this.
"Not everyone is like that, Thomas. Again, Marcone isn't the best guy in the world, never claimed he was. That's probably Michael, honestly. But he's good enough. I can at least be mostly sure he won't suddenly shoot me in the back when I'm not looking. I mean, yeah, him suddenly kissing me like that is pretty confusing, and when I wake up in the morning I will probably have a miniature gay panic about it wherein something gets set on fire, but right now I'm too tired to care all that much. You shouldn't feel like you have to do all that for me. You do plenty just by existing, and helping me when I need it. You don't have to be my chastity belt too." Marcone smirked, crept close again.
"Come now, you threatened me with bodily harm when I insulted him. Why are you going so easy on him?" I leaned away a little. He followed, because dream Marcone is a creepy weirdo. A creepy weirdo who is a really good kisser, but a creepy weirdo nonetheless.
"Uh, hey, personal space, pal. I would like some. And Thomas is my brother, Marcone. You're the friendly neighborhood mobster. You don't deserve Nice Harry." He smiled. The kissed me again, although this time he pulled away before Thomas could go flying across the room again. I gaped again.
"You're always nice, sweetheart." I want to go home. I want to wake up and go home and forget about all of this for forever.
"No. Nuh uh. Nope. See you. Call me when you're not on drugs." He laughed. Thomas snarled. Lea giggled. And I died a little inside. "Is this dealt with yet? Please tell me it is, Lea. Please." She cocked her head, a smile prominent on her pretty face.
"Well, I suppose they are not as angry with one another as they once were. You may go. I'll bring them back and deal with them again should they begin to cause more issues." I smiled, and laughed happily, because damn it, no more random kissing! I promptly fell asleep, and did not wake up until noon the next morning. I was uncomfortably pantsless during this waking. I've yet to question that one for fear of my sanity.