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Lukas woke with a jerk and his hands pressed to his mouth to keep in a scream. He kept his eyes squeezed closed until he made out the sound of Jack stirring beside him and normality started to filter back in, chasing out the icy unrealities of the nightmare.

Jack was getting better at waking, but he still slept through nine times out of ten. Every time, a small knot of resentment twisted in Lukas's stomach. He couldn't get rid of it no matter how much he tried to tangle his mind out of that mess while he sat alone in the dark. But Jack's frustration always eased it out, when the morning came and he knew just by looking at Lukas's face that he'd failed to wake up again.

Except this time it was better that Jack only stirred the once and stayed fast asleep. It'd been just as horrifying as all the rest, but this one had been different. He needed to think.

Soft, silver light cast low illumination across the kitchen when Lukas padded in. The moon, still full to the naked eye, peered through the high kitchen window, bathing the flat in its cool glow. The last traces of fear seeped from his bones as he climbed onto the counter. Stars peeked through the murky window, and those pinpricks that shone even against the slather of light pollution licking amber across the sky would always be Lukas's favourites, the essence of darkness that broke through even when human density sought to block out the night.

Sat there with dim illumination seeping across his skin, Lukas pulled Jack's tobacco towards him. He already knew how to roll just for all the times when Jack bitched about being too tired to do it, and the cigarettes had been growing more tantalising every time he woke up before dawn. What did it really matter if he had one? Jack wasn't awake to know.

He could already feel something of the person he'd become, deep in the depths of his mind, and that person was a creature of vices. It … didn't make sense. It wasn't normal getting these flashes of an adult Lukas fully formed while his age still sulked in single digits. Even the concept of it being strange, he knew, was strange. Learning who he was over the past few years had been more like remembering, and he knew even more now that there was something strange about his missing memories.

Lukas regarded his cigarette critically. Not as good as Jack, but he was pretty damn good. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he leant forwards to light it off the hob. The rapid click of the gas igniter sounded like the stutter of a machine gun in the silence of the night, and the first drag made him cough so loudly that he was worried he'd wake Jack up.

Once he'd made sure he didn't have any company, he tried again, this time taking a smaller puff. Not half bad. Against the darkness of the room, Lukas pictured Jack with a cigarette hanging from his lips – and he'd always thought that looked so cool – and slowly, let the image morph into his own gaunt, childish face.

Lukas grinned. Still cool.

He'd have to ask Jack about anything magic could do about the bad bits in the morning. Jack was always telling Lukas all the reasons he shouldn't start smoking since Lukas had asked Kev for some of his cigarette on one of the poker nights. The idea of Lukas smoking seemed to make him even more fraught than any of the other vices Jack indulged in, and Jack's lectures on the negatives always made Lukas grin.

So magic against it – he was sure Jack would have some. Lukas knew he was pretty, and he wanted to stay that way.

The nicotine relaxed him already. Maybe a little much with his head whirling too light up to the sky, but he liked that – the distance from himself. Lukas moved over to the sofa, grabbing the ashtray along the way, and kicked his feet up on the coffee table. Once he was comfortable, he closed his eyes and sunk into the sofa, toying with the memory of the conversation with Jack that had triggered the dreams.

•─────⋅ ⋅ ⋅─────•

It had been a chilly day in November, coming up to the three-year mark since Lukas had first come to live with Jack.

They lounged on the sofa, resting against one arm each with their feet tangling in the middle under a patchwork blanket. The warmth trapped beneath it sunk into Lukas's bones and bundled him up in a dozy sort of pleasure, and while he listened to Jack talk, he nuzzled into that fuzzy warmth building up in his chest, rubbing his feet against the heat of Jack's legs while he hid his smile behind his steaming mug of coffee. Jack didn't bother to hide his. His coffee plus a generous shot of whiskey or two sat nestled in his lap, and he had a smoking cigarette pinched between his fingers.

In the little vignette that opened his memory, Lukas had his head tossed back, laughing silently at a story Jack had just finished telling, while Jack leant back against the arm, crossing his free hand behind his head, and … stared. The low light cast his bright grey eyes aglow while he just watched, gaze pinned on Lukas's face.

Like Lukas liked being stared at even for a couple of seconds. Before long, a twitch formed in his jaw, and he gritted his teeth and kicked Jack, finally snapping him out of his gawking. Catching Lukas's glare, Jack scratched the back of his head, sheepish.

"Sorry, just thinking about something."

Lukas turned his palm up and tilted his head.

"Well, you remember when we met the second time?" A rhetorical question. Jack knew he remembered. "There was that kid running down the street shouting your name, right? I mean I guess he was chasing you, and when we got back here you asked me if I knew him, right?" Lukas nodded again. "I heard you give them kids outside the other day a fake one, y'know? Plus when them ladies from downstairs came up with some pie like we was boys-next-door, remember?"

Lukas nodded. He did, and the women had learnt very quickly they weren't.

"Yeah…" Jack mulled the word over his tongue. "Just makes me bet Kev and the boys only know your name 'cause I introduced you first, and that makes no one but me and the guys I told who know it, y'know…" Jack spread his hand, a sheepish kind of twist to his lips, "apart from that kid."

Lukas wanted to sigh, but he pressed his lips tight as he wrote so he didn't. Honestly, he was surprised Jack had picked that up. Jack was clever, yes, but his brain was scattered so far to the wind Lukas usually had to repeat his questions three times before Jack clocked them if they weren't already talking.

'Very observant of you, Jack.' And if that came across snarky, let it. Lukas didn't want to talk about this.

A grin spread across Jack's lips, all white teeth and a wolfish edge, before he caught himself and straightened his lips. Getting the serious look on. Jack did the same face every time he was trying to be serious. "So if you haven't told anyone your name but me and you had to ask me if I knew who that kid was, how come he knew your name?"

Lukas shrugged.

Something flashed across Jack's face and he sat up, arms resting on the way the blanket tented between his raised knees. "You don't know? How can you not know?"

'I don't remember. I don't know who he is. I've never seen him before in my life.'

There was a furrow in Jack's brow that was getting deeper every minute. "But I'm right, huh? You've never told anyone but me your name."

'As far as I remember. I make a point not to.' It was the only thing he knew about himself that went beyond these memories and it was … it was like his treasure, jealously guarded.

"You remember everything though, Lucky."

'It had to start somewhere.'

"And where did it start?"

'Jack, leave it.'

"It doesn't make sense though!"

'How?'' Lukas wished he could speak at times like this. The only way to convey how cold his tone would have been was to glare at Jack.

"Well…" Jack took a drag of his diminishing cigarette and frowned down at his coffee. Gathering his thoughts. Lukas wished he wouldn't. Everything else he'd just leave when Lukas told him to, but … was it any surprise? This was strange, and Jack didn't even know the half of it. Lukas shouldn't blame him; he wouldn't drop it either – he hadn't – but regardless, he did blame him.

Stupid Jack.

"Well," Jack said again, "do you remember how you got on the streets?" Lukas thinned his lips and shook his head, and Jack's lips parted, eyebrows jumping. His fingers loosened on the coffee cup and it tilted at a dangerous angle as he leant further forward. "When?" Lukas shook his head again, grudgingly. "Then you must have met the kid just before you met me. I mean you were still clean, right? And your clothes were in decent shape, so no way you'd been living rough for more than a week…"

Lukas didn't like this. His heart beat too hard in his chest, some squirming edge of black panic closing around the base of his spine. He didn't remember. His hand shook as he scribbled out his note. Why didn't he remember?

'Jack, fucking leave it.'

"One more question?"

Lukas nodded. He didn't have to answer.

"When you say you don't remember, is it just that your memory's all patchy or you don't remember anything at all from before when your memory got like photographic?"

Lukas shook his head. He wasn't answering that. He sipped his coffee, staring at the dark liquid and not meeting Jack's eyes.

"You don't remember anything?" Jack's voice was full of incredulity. Of course he'd guess the answer from Lukas refusing to answer. Stupid. Don't fucking say it, Jack… "Lukas, what the fuck? You mean you've just had a whole fucking chunk of your memory missing for—for—since like three years ago and you haven't said a single fucking thing!"

Jack paused. Lukas couldn't breathe, little sharp empties that hurt his chest to make. Fuck off. Fuck off. Fuck off.

"Look at me, Lucky." Jack waved his hand in front of Lukas's bowed face. Fuck. Off. "Look at me. That's not—"

Lukas slapped Jack's hand away. He looked up and met Jack's wide eyes with a snarl on his lips. When the words started to slip past his lips, he couldn't do anything to stop it. It was a tide and his mind screamed, but he couldn't stop it.

"Would you like to know what my first memory is, Jack?" Lukas said in a low, croaking voice. Every word was a stumbling stuttering mess made a hundred times worth by these harsh, panting breaths that he couldn't choke down. "It was a—a w—woman screaming and a dirty space behind a dumpster. The first thing I can re—remember is watching you rob that hooker in a filthy fucking alleyway, and when I stood there watching you, I couldn't—I—I couldn't remember anything else either."

Lukas raised his voice to a shout. It hurt. Right down in the strange middle of his throat. Hurt like shattered glass, just the way his voice sounded. "Do you know what that's like? When I didn't speak to you it was because I couldn't even fucking remember if I could speak or not. I was t—too f—fucking—too scared to try!

"I don't remember anything before that day but I—I remember. I have so many t—things floating around in my head. I don't understand all of them but they're there. So explain that to me! How do I know so much when I don't know a single fucking thing?" He nearly screamed the last bit and his voice broke off entirely. Gasping, he sunk back against the arm of the chair, hands pressed against his face. Jack gaped at him, totally vacant, and a strange giggle spilt past Lukas's lips, a rasping unpleasant sound.

Lukas had almost finished his coffee before Jack pulled his thoughts together, although he had had the presence of mind to shut his mouth much sooner. The brief spike of emotion had … flattened itself. Once again, Lukas's mind was a still lake, zen. Maybe Jack would be able to help him with this.

"I think…" Jack said slowly when he eventually spoke, "that this has something to do with you going missing."

Lukas blinked. He tried to reply aloud, finally breaking his silence, but behind his working lips, his tongue felt too heavy in his mouth and a prickle of panic moved along his spine. As he picked up the notepad and pen, Jack's face fell a little. Understandable. Lukas's heart fell too.

'I never actually thought about that.'

"Huh… Well, there's five years where neither of us know where you were, so it all goes that maybe someone took you, dumped you somewhere, decided it weren't working, and, uh … wiped your memories and ditched you on the street."

Great. Like a fucking old floppy disk.

"You must have been somewhere else," Jack continued, scratching his jaw like he did when he thought, "otherwise that kid wouldn't have known you. You hadn't been dressed by a wizard either, so whoever kidnapped you probably didn't keep you." Jack paused a moment. "They were really bad clothes, but they were picked out by a muggle or someone who knew muggles. You oughta see what most wizards come up with." Jack pulled a face. "It's bad."

'That makes sense. The kid was dressed muggle too.' Lukas tapped his pen against the notepad to stop Jack speaking and wrote quickly. 'How did you learn to dress like a muggle?'

"Oh." Jack's cheeks went a little red and he scratched the back of his neck. The strange tattoo of a skull and serpent marring his arm gleamed like a burn. "I spent loads of time in the muggle world back in the day. Y'know, before I was forced to live here. Picked stuff up."

'Pretty useful.'

That brought a smile to Jack's face. "Yeah. I fit right in."

Lukas eyed Jack's messy, bleached hair and his silver nose ring. 'Sort of.'

They both laughed.

"Them memories though…" Jack trailed off and seemed to look to Lukas for permission to bring the subject back up. Lukas nodded. Now it was out, it didn't bother him. "Like, there is something I can do that might tell us more. I don't know much about it other than how to do it, but that should be plenty. It's just … well, how much do you trust me, kid?"

'It depends. What am I trusting you with?'

"It's a branch of magic called legilimency." Jack grimaced and Lukas was on the verge of working out what the word meant – the art of something regarding the mind, Latin, where does legili come from? Leg... – when Jack spoke, clearing the matter up. "It's mind magic. Legilimency is basically mind-reading."

Lukas got halfway into shaking his head with vehemence before Jack spoke up hastily. "Nah, nah, nah. I'm not asking you to trust me enough to let me look at everything in your head, I'm asking you to trust me not to look at anything – just to look for anything that might be shutting up your memories, y'know? I'd swear a magic oath, but you don't know enough about those to trust them, I guess, so I'm asking you to trust me. I mean … if you don't, I can start teaching you occlumency I guess, but it might take a while 'til you—"

Lukas tapped his pen against the pad to stop Jack and wrote his note out quickly. 'Promise me you won't look at a single memory and you'll stop if you even think you're seeing something I wouldn't want you to see.'

Jack's lips parted again, mild surprise colouring his features, and that expression made Lukas happy to let him do whatever he was going to do. Jack really hadn't been expecting him to agree anyway.

"I promise." Jack leant forwards and his face was so solemn it made Lukas wanted to laugh just to break the moment. He was glad when one of those wolfish grins broke across Jack's face. "Thanks, kid."

Thanks for trusting me, Jack meant. Lukas smiled back and nodded. 'Thank you to you too.'

"You're welcome. Now—" the easy smile dropped off Jack's face and he was serious again— "lean forwards and keep your eyes fixed on mine. Just keep thinking that you're happy with me going in there." His finger rapped against the side of Lukas's head. "If you ain't, it's just gonna hurt like a bitch for you, so tell me now, and I'll just dig up some shit on occlumency instead." Lukas shook his head and gave Jack two thumbs up. "Alright then, now relax and don't think about anything but letting me in your head, alright, kiddo? Relax. Just relax…"

It was over in a flash. One moment Lukas had his eyes locked with Jack's, the next a flurry of images rifled across his mind, like different negatives all played together like frames of a film. Dusty corridors and tangled overgrown gardens, locked doors that wouldn't even rattle in their frames, and rooms with ceilings that disappeared out of sight into musty darkness. Then it was over, and he could see Jack again, leant back against the arm of the chair with a faint sheen of sweat on his forehead.

"Gods," he groaned, "I'm so fucking out of practice."

Lukas tapped his knee and turned his palm up when Jack looked at him, questioning.

"Well, there's definitely something different about you, kid, that's for sure." Lukas shrugged. He knew that already. "You've got a fully formed like, uh…" Jack whirled his finger, nose scrunching up. "Can't think of the goddamn word, but y'know. Ain't no worry about me accidentally looking at memories I shouldn't – they're all packed up right neat. You could see things, right?" Lukas nodded. "Those were glimpses of what I was seeing, that's what the inside of your head looks like, uh … magically speaking. Look I dunno, I've never seen anything like that before but Mik always told me control of the mind, darling, is like building a doll house." When he said that, Jack put on a long, drawn out nasal tone, then grinned at Lukas when he was done. "Guess that's what he meant, huh?"

Lukas joined the dots up straight away. 'And the locked doors…'

"Bingo. Now I'm just guessing 'cause I don't know shit about this but with your head being so organised, it's pretty straight forward like, but still, don't take my word on it."

'I won't.'

Jack tried to swat Lukas over the head, but he leant back out of Jack's reach, laughing.

"Alright, alright," Jack said. "Business 'en. So I said your head is really organised, it's also really, uh … what's the word? Compartmentalised, yeah. All them different memories are in different places, so whoever locked up your memories – and they're locked up for sure – they only locked memories of events, most like. All that other shit that makes you you –that's all kicking. So I've got no fucking clue why your mindscape is so fancy, but you're damn lucky it is or you would've woken up in that alley all baby and no sense. You would've learnt quicker, sure – your brain is more developed and all that shit – but you wouldn't have stood up and watched me take my wallet back from that bird and understood what was happening. Capiche?"

'I do, and I'm getting more pissed off by the word.'

"Yeah, just wish I knew what it all fuckin' meant. Sevvie or the Rosiers would've know…" Jack made a face. "I bet His fucking High Evilness would too."

The Dark Lord. Lukas grinned, shaking his head. The more comfortable Jack had gotten with him over the last three years, the more he'd been coming out with these ridiculous monikers for the Dark Lord instead of his title. It spoke of a strange familiarity, but even so … the little spark in Lukas's chest probably said pride that his Jack laughed in the face of someone so powerful.

How incredible would it have been seeing Jack's little rebellions with the Dark Lord? All the sniped words flying over His High Evilness's head while Lukas laughed behind his hand.

Shaking his head, Lukas wrote out his note. That was silly. The Dark Lord – he must have been so far beyond Lukas's comprehension of intelligence and power that he was more god than man. Not that Lukas would ever say that to Jack.

'It's not important if it's not to do with my memory loss.'

"Nah, I don't think it is. There is something though." Lukas gestured for Jack to continue. "Well, your head's got the shape of this huge manor. I wound up outside it before I started looking, and at least it was huge from the outside. Inside, I only seemed to get around a quarter of it. All the doors that led out of the wing were locked too. I mean, it could just be for appearances but … I mean, magic don't really like excess like that."

A prickle of ice crept up Lukas's spine as he listened to Jack's words, and the letters he wrote were shaky, uncertain. 'What are you saying?'

Jack's grimace matched how Lukas felt. "You know what I'm saying, kid. Not counting them bits we know are locked up, there's about three-quarters of that manor in your head I ain't getting into, and I'll bet they're locked up just as tight for you."

•─────⋅ ⋅ ⋅─────•

Since then, these strange dreams had haunted the dark corners of Lukas's night-time. They'd all had the quality of memories, and he remembered them better than other dreams, which wakefulness brushed off like cobwebs draping his closed eyes.

They played out through a toddler's eyes, always with the same four figures – a family which wasn't his, and with the dreams, came feelings toward the family. Lukas couldn't tell if he formed them anew or remembered them, his mind easing down a familiar path. Most of it came as a tangle of apathetic bad for all but one of the two children, one who obviously didn't belong in the family either. For that boy, there was a weird sort of fondness, and Lukas teased the other aspect around while his head swirled under the crooked finger of the cigarette smoke until he came up with the descriptor.

Possessiveness.

Funny, because as soon as he laid his finger on the word, he realised that his feelings about Jack weren't so different. Jack was his. They had something special and it belonged to Lukas, no one else.

But the boy… The boy was the oddest thing about the dreams, the feature that firmed them in reality. The boy who'd chased him down the street shouting his name.

He hadn't made that connection until tonight. It was stupid being so blind to it; the boy hadn't even looked much different in the more recent memories, no matter that they came in a jumbled confusion of cut-up scenes.

The loathing he'd felt for the family in the dreams had seemed inconsequential before tonight as well, distant and irrelevant. It was his past now. And the boy … it didn't really matter that Lukas had liked him. It wasn't like Jack – it was passing, apathetic.

Except all of that was until this dream, this nightmare. It was like his brain had been holding these scenes until it had no other jumbled memories to fling out, as if it didn't want him to remember them at all, and he understood why. Those hateful feelings were concrete now and Lukas was glad that these memories weren't, at least not to the standard of others. Even so, they made him shudder where he sat.

It was strange, juggling the memory of something you knew had happened to you and yet none of the trauma, none of the gut-wrenching sickness that Lukas knew so well went with it – none of that touched him, and yet all he wanted was warmth to smother any memory of memory that still lurked like a sickness in his brain.

It was a shame hugging Jack would just make it worse.

So now maybe he actually had to do something about it. About the boy, who, as far as Lukas knew, still lived with that monster. He didn't want to leave anyone to that treatment. The neglect was startling. The boy, he'd worked out, was the same age as Lukas, give or take a year, but he looked several years younger.

Normally, he might have not bothered, but this time he … should. It felt wrong not to – it felt wrong to consider not bothering and just … not feeling anything at all. It wasn't like it'd be hard – Jack could talk to Matthias, cash in a favour perhaps, and Matthias could get anyone tracked down.

With that weight off his mind, Lukas had the shower he'd promised himself and went back to bed.