Night's Children: Nox Noctis
AN: In this, italics are Gordon's flashbacks. Also, I was wondering if anyone had an opinion for pairings or couples in this fic? I'm starting to lean towards some, but there are a few that I don't have developed yet, so I was wondering if anyone had any ideas/favorites in mind?
WARNING: There's going to be some violent/graphic descriptions in this chapter, if you don't like these, I would advise you to skip over the parts in italics. Italics. ooo.
Chapter 14: Gordon's Pain or Help From the King and Queen
"Where are they?" Tessa said in irritation for about the fifth time in twenty minutes.
"Imy said they'd be right over," Aria supplied, resting her chin on the heel of her hand.
The three, Tessa, Aria, and Murray, were sitting outside of the mall on two concrete benches. The air was slightly chilled, but it was endurable. Aria and Tessa shared a side, while Murray sat across from them, inhaling on a cigarette and generally pouting. Kelly had been left inside the mall, sprawled across the floor and still unconscious. Tessa's eyes never left the Follower in question, knowing he would try to pull something.
"You're not going to save her, y'know," Murray commented darkly, "Four chumps against the Atrox and its Followers? Pheh, no chance." He said, exhaling a cloud of smoke.
"Hey," Tessa growled, "Shut the hell up."
"No one asked you," Aria agreed.
Murray shrugged, inhaling deeply, "Lambert is the most ruthless of us all, and the Incinti won't let a Lecta slip away."
Aria ignored the rather annoying boy, her own stare trained to the passing cars, looking inside each car window hopefully, trying to get a glance of Trysten or Lance. A few moments passed, but soon, she saw what looked like Trysten's head. "There!" She said excitedly, standing up and squinting, "Is that them?"
Tessa followed her stare, "Yep, that's them all right." She said, giving a sigh of relief and also standing up. She looked at their reluctant guide, "Stub it out, and let's get going."
Murray shot her a look of pure acid, but stubbed the cigarette out with the toe of his sneaker.
A black, beaten car cluttered up to the curb, and pulled to a slow stop. Aria approached it carefully, while Tessa stood behind, gripping Murray by the bicep. She startled slightly when the window crept down, but it was replaced by confidence when she saw the familiar sight of Lance, with Trysten sitting next to him.
"Get in," Lance said to Aria, but then stopped when he saw the blond Follower. "You." He sneered coldly.
Murray laughed without humor, "And you. You're the one going by Lance now, how pathetic!"
"You two know each other?" Tessa asked suspiciously, her eyes darting back and forth between the pair.
"Unfortunately," Lance answered, staring at Murray like a lion stares at its prey. Murray shifted uncomfortably but said nothing.
"We don't have time for this," Trysten said coldly, "We need to get to Riley."
Murray's eyes widened, "Ah, you must be Trysten, never did get to see you up close," He spat, his voice contemptuous, "But I suppose the rumors are true, you really look just like him, except for the hair of course."
Trysten froze, his fingers wrapping around the wheel tightly. And Aria watched his reaction with interest, "Look like whom?" She asked innocently.
Murray grinned widely, "Why, like Stanton of course. Funny, how life turns out, isn't it?" He queried, turning his attention to Trysten, he leaned his head near the window, "You know, I was once apprenticed to him, your dad." His face contorted from grin to sneer, "He was the biggest prick-"
"Shut up," Trysten snapped, his anger making his face go red but he stayed seated and in control.
"Why are you with them Murray?" Lance demanded, cutting in, hoping to stall Murray's attention away from Stanton and Trysten.
"He's our guide," Tessa answered smartly.
Lance's eyebrows rose, "Guide for what?"
"To take us to Tymmie," Aria said gently.
Trysten's eyes widened and he froze, "Why are you going to Tymmie?" His voice was low, dangerous, but above all, scared.
"That's where Riley is," Tessa said in a patronizing tone.
"Tymmie…Tymmie is the one who has Riley?" Trysten asked, his words shaky.
Aria nodded.
Trysten exhaled slowly, gripping the wheel even tighter.
Lance's gaze flickered back to Trysten and he ran a hand threw his dark hair, "You know where Tymmie is?" He questioned Murray.
"Yeah."
"I don't believe you." Lance stated.
Murray laughed and tapped the side of his head, "You have to power to find out for yourself."
Lance looked at him with an expression of distaste, but the turned his attention to Aria, "You're positive that she's with Tymmie?" His voice left little room for uncertainty.
"Yes." Aria spoke softly, she looked at the pair in the car, "What's wrong? Is they're something that you're not telling us?" She demanded.
Trysten shot a furtive glance at his passenger, "We'll explain later, get in the car."
Tessa snorted, "No, not unless you tell us what's what. I'm not about to trust someone who could be a Follower."
Trysten sighed angrily, "There isn't time for that!" He snapped.
Murray gave an oily smile, "Isn't that the proof you need, dea? He's refusing to tell you because he is one of us."
Trysten gave a sharp intake of air, "I am not one of you."
Lance looked at the two girls pleading, "You have to believe us when we say we have Riley's best interests in mind." He shot a dark glare at Murray, "He's just trying to stall you and to get you against us."
Murray chuckled, "So pathetic in your defensive lies."
Tessa stood, unmoved. She scrutinized Murray, "So you think that we shouldn't trust them?" She asked the James Dean lookalike.
He nodded.
Tessa smiled, "Alright, Lance, we're with you."
Aria inclined her head, "Let's go, you can explain on the way." She said crisply, "But know this, try anything remotely suspicious, and we're out."
"Agreed," Lance stated.
The tension cleared, at least temporarily, the three stepped in gingerly to the backseat of Trysten's car. Trysten's eyes glared at the blonde Follower through the rearview mirror, "Where is Tymmie?"
Murray looked defiant, but a quick jab to the ribs from Tessa quickly changed his mind, "Most likely, he's at his apartment."
"Where's that?" Lance asked.
Murray grimaced, "It's off of Ocean Way, a side street on Wilshire."
"The address?" Trysten demanded.
"Building 308, room 296 D," Tessa supplied quickly.
Lance shot her a quizzical look, to which she just shrugged, "I had some time to interrogate him before you arrived."
Lance shook his head, but Trysten paid no mind, as he accelerated the car into the night.
OoOoOoOoOoOoOo
Gordon Jacobson sat at a kitchen table, his hands wrapped around a cheap ceramic mug of coffee. The only illumination in the room came from the stars and the brightly shining crescent of moon that filtered through the blinds. His eyes were trained to his own reflection in the coffee mug. A nose too big, strained and worn eyes, with the stubble that was the result of a hangover he had that morning. So much was different now, and he was having a rather hard time processing the new information that had just been presented to him.
Jimena sat across from him, her dark eyes trained on his face, trying to judge a reaction. Her meticulously clean fingernails drummed along the tabletop, not with impatience, but out of anxiety. Her breath was even, and she was tense, eagerly awaiting his response to the story she had just told him.
Gordon could sense her gaze, and her anxiety. Slowly, he turned his bloodshot gaze away from the coffee cup and up to look at her, "So…these things, these Followers, they steal hope from people?"
Jimena nodded curtly, "Yes."
"And how do they do that exactly?" He asked.
"The Followers serve the Atrox, and it is actually the Atrox that steals hope from others," Jimena paused, trying to explain the situation accurately, "When the Atrox takes hope from people, it trades the hope for its self, its own emptiness."
Gordon absently scratched the side of his face, "So you're telling me that these Followers were once just regular people?"
Jimena nodded.
"But not anymore?"
There was a pause, before Jimena nodded again.
Gordon sighed, "This is big." He paused, then looked at her, "These four girls, Ormond, Zalank, and the other two, they're…Goddesses?"
"Yes, they are the Daughters of the Greek Moon Goddess Selene and her mortal lover Endymion." Jimena clarified.
"And how come no one else has ever found out about this?"
Jimena imitated Gordon's sigh, cradling her head in her hand, "Some have. My ex-husband, for instance," She paused giving him a meaningful look, "But most are oblivious, or willfully ignorant."
"Willfully ignorant?"
She gave a grim smile, "Surely you know most people choose not to believe in things outside of their comfort level. I suspect that a creature older than the Christian devil who devours hope is one of those things."
He studied her for a moment. He didn't want to believe her; he didn't want to believe that the woman across from him was totally sane, and that the boogeyman who lurked in the shadows was real. He most definitely didn't want to believe that four snot-nosed kids were the only things standing between that monster and normal people like him. His hand gripped the mug tighter, and he could see the veins rising from the back of his hand. Gordon looked back at his reflection, and his thoughts unwillingly drifted to those without hope, the Followers. According to Ms. Castillo, they were normally just kids, teenagers.
He shuddered involuntarily at the prospect of having to live in a world without hope, without any motivation for existence. He winced as he thought about the so-called 'Immortals', the ones that Castillo said were doomed to live with that burden for all eternity. Unbidden, the horrible question popped into his head. If they were almost always kids, then could he have been one? Perhaps that was why he-?
He squeezed his eyes shut as memories resurfaced into his head.
It had been a long day, and he sauntered into the house, tossing his keys languidly onto the kitchen counter. He squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a drawling sigh, trying to relieve the pressures from his work.
And that's when he noticed it.
At first he wasn't even aware of the smell, just the deafening presence of silence. There was no noise, no signature of movement, nothing. He paused, and opened his eyes to the digital clock above his oven, why wasn't there any noise? It was after school, he should have been home by now.
He stiffened, "Hello?" He called out, "You home?" He addressed the looming darkness and solitude.
His feet crept across the carpet, the shuffling motion breaking the crushing hush, for which he was thankful, as it made him more than uneasy.
He walked slowly to the end of the hall, where he stopped before the last door on the left. He inhaled sharply, grimacing at the odor seeping out from the room. His hand rested gently on the knob to the death metal poster-covered door, and he leaned against it.
"Hello?" He said, trying desperately to ignore the hitch his voice made.
He stopped, listening carefully. There was nothing on the other side of that door. Nothing living, anyways. He could hear his heart thudding violently against his ribcage as he tensed, trying to work up enough of a nerve to open that door, to see what was on the other side.
Yet fear stilled him, and once more, he tried in vain, "Emil?" He croaked.
Still that mind-numbing nothingness.
Taking a deep breath, Gordon slowly opened the door to see-
"Mr. Jacobson?"
Gordon was shaken violently from his reverie, as he jolted straight up in his seat. His sudden movement caused some excess coffee to slosh over the mug's rim and scald his hand slightly, "Shit." He swore, shaking his head slowly to clear those damning memories.
"Are you alright?" Jimena asked, regarding him almost coldly.
He looked up at her, "What?" He demanded in a voice edged slightly with irritation.
"You looked lost for a moment," Jimena clarified, seeming to evaluate him.
Gordon stared at his hand, wiping the coffee on his pant leg, "It's nothing," He almost barked, his voice clipped and easily stating that he didn't want to discuss his troubles.
Jimena continued to stare at him, slightly concerned at his spaced-out reaction a few seconds prior. But she slowly cleared her throat, indicating that she would let the issue rest…for the moment.
Gordon ran a hand through his thinning hair and leaned back, slowly getting back his composure and relaxed stance. His thoughts re-processed the information that had been presented to him.
He did not want to believe, he did not want to accept it. Yet the trailing voice within him, the voice that pushed aside manners of the head for manners of the heart, was telling him that this strange woman was right. That this bleak world without hope was a very strong, and increasing, possibility. His thoughts drifted back to Emil for a few moments, and regret stung his chest. Was he another victim? Was Emil driven to his choice by this strange power?
He swallowed, although his mouth was dry.
He believed this crazy woman, believed that there was something darker and more sinister in the shadows of Los Angeles than drugs and crime. Believed in that twisting, corrupting force.
He believed the devil existed.
But more importantly, he believed that it needed to be stopped. His life-strained eyes looked across the table, the woman, an ex-gang member, was his only link between the world that skimmed the surface of the shadows, and the way to stop this thing, this Atrox.
He had to know, he had to know how to stop this. His fist clenched, and he ignored the sting of the burn. This was more than some timeless war between demi-gods, this possibly affected him personally.
"Where do you fit into all of this?" He asked, determined to discover all he could about this clandestine war.
Jimena hesitated before answering, wondering where the strange drive had come from, "I'm something called the Magna Mater, and I've been chosen by Selene to mentor and protect her Daughters while they remain on Earth." She said crisply.
"While they remain on Earth?" Gordon inquired shrewdly, cop instincts coming into play.
"When each of the girls turn seventeen, they will have to make a difficult choice," Jimena stated, "They can choose to become a guardian spirit, or they can choose to remain on Earth and forget."
Gordon rubbed his chin thoughtfully, "Why is that?"
"Why is what?"
"Why do they need to make this choice?" He clarified.
Jimena gave a ghost of a smile, "The world would eventually discover the Daughters, and their powers. Some would eventually exploit them and their gifts," She sighed, "By forcing this choice, Selene protects them. Protects them from normal people, from the Atrox, and from themselves."
"How?"
"Every Daughter has a darker side to them, Mr. Jacobson, just as the moon does." Jimena said, "If it is not monitored, it will in time consume them."
He looked thoughtful, flashes of his past crossing his face as he thought of Emil, "And Zalank," He asked, "You think that she is going to surrender to her dark side tonight." It was not a question.
She hesitated before she inclined her head in the affirmative.
"And you're going to stop her…right?"
Jimena's face fell and she leaned forward, once again cradling her head in her hand, "I don't think that I will be able to."
"Why the hell not?" He demanded, somehow feeling angry at that resolve.
Her head snapped back a little at his crassness, "You need to understand Riley's situation," She paused, "Her mother's neglect and her harsh upbringing has left a painful mark on her soul." Jimena licked her lips in nervousness, "Riley is submissive, uncertain, depressed, and self-isolated. The perfect target for the Atrox."
She eyed him carefully, intrigued by the way his head had jerked back when she had blatantly listed Riley's shortcomings. She paused, thinking. Why is he taking this almost…personally?
Gordon narrowed his eyes, his irritation flaring, "So that's it? You're going to give up on her because she's weak?" He spat coarsely.
Jimena glared, "I said nothing about giving up, nor about Riley being weak." Her tone was frigid and cold, "What I meant is that she may not be receptive towards our help."
Gordon inhaled deeply, "Is there a chance?"
"A small one," She answered honestly.
"Then why the hell are we sitting here drinking a goddamn cup of coffee?" He outburst.
She stared at the man in disbelief and a slight newfound respect. He had accepted the information quickly, and his zeal directed against the Atrox was almost…inspiring. Almost.
"May I ask why the enthusiasm?" She asked carefully, hoping against hope she had not just revealed Selene's secrets to a madman.
His back straightened and his eyes narrowed, "No. You may not."
"Why?"
"It's too personal," He snipped.
Jimena tensed, not liking have been refused, "I entrusted you with my story, I think it's only fair that you share yours." She said coolly.
Gordon's lip twitched, "There's nothing to tell." He said, struggling to keep his voice even.
"You're lying to me, Mr. Jacobson. I don't appreciate that."
He stiffened, his eyes trailing back to the mug, "I don't need to tell you anything." He grit out.
"No," Jimena agreed, "But we both know you should."
He exhaled slowly, and Jimena could see the raw pain flashing through his beaten eyes, "It was…it was my son," He started.
The buzzing of the flies is what first caught his attention. The crushing silence had been abruptly replaced by an irritating, repetitive sound. After that, it was the raw stench. It assailed his nostrils, making him almost gag. His eyes became teary, and he pulled the front of his uniform up to cover his nose and mouth. Anything to avoid that putrid smell.
It was only after those two things that his visual perception registered.
Two colors, red and gray. The red had soaked into the carpet, onto the freshly painted white walls, touching and diminishing the purity of all it came into contact with. It stained everything, and a brief thought flickered through his mind that the red would stain. Intermixed was the gray. Bits and pieces of what almost looked like a cotton fluff, mixed and mingled everywhere, against the walls, in the carpet.
It was then two larger objects caught his attention.
The first was the shotgun. It was laid across the floor, askew and looking almost impeccably clean, a mocking contrast to the rest of the room. His thoughts traced over the time he had bought the gun, as a present to his son for his sixteenth birthday.
He wanted to stop his eyes, begged his mind not the process the implications of what he had just seen, yet his eyes moved, and his mind wandered.
They came to rest on a figure on the ground, what may have once been a boy.
It was then that Gordon closed his eyes, and slumped to the ground on his knees.
"Your son?" Jimena questioned.
Gordon nodded, hating the feeling he still got, the feeling of suffocation, "Eight years ago…" He trailed off, "Eight years ago my only son, Emil, killed himself."
Jimena startled, but contained her composure, "My apologies," She whispered.
Gordon nodded, digging his fingernails into the palm of his hand, "He was only seventeen. Blew his head off." He stated, his voice becoming steadily detatched, "They, they found a note." He stated.
Jimena said nothing, only looked at him in a sympathetic curiosity.
"It said some rubbish, some rubbish written in Latin," He sent her a meaningful look, "I memorized it right away. It was something like De duobus malis, minus est semper eligendum."
"Of two evils, the lesser must always be chosen," Jimena translated, and realization dawned upon her, "Then you think-?"
He nodded, his voice shaky, "I think that Emil may have been one of these Followers."
"I see." Jimena said, again in a whisper.
He blinked, "I think…I know that…I need this…" He stammered, his mind not focusing on coherent sentences.
Jimena studied the harsh, yet broken man, in front of her, and she began to rub her head, trying to find the best way to handle this. Her sluggish eyes drifted to the moon, the moon that she always sought for guidance in these dire hours of need. She felt it constricting around her chest, the doubt, the fear, but more importantly, the hope. She watched Gordon as he hid his head in his hands, muttering something incoherently, and in a brief moment of pity, her heart went out to him.
"What do you need, Mr. Jacobson?" She questioned.
He jerked his head out of his hands, and Jimena was forced to restrain the need to gasp. His eyes were flat, haunted, "I need…I need to stop this." Was all he said.
Jimena nodded, thankful that she did not share his pain, "Well…" She spoke gently, "What do you propose we do to stop this?" She asked.
A spark of something dashed through his emotionless eyes at the encouraging tone of her voice, "Whatever it takes."
And Jimena knew in that instance, that Selene had gained an ally against the darkness.
OoOoOoOoOoOoOo
Trysten exhaled slowly as his car lurched to a stop outside of the apartment complex. The area surrounding them looked pretty much desolate, with no signs of life, even most of the windows were dark, signaling that no one was home.
Trysten resisted a snort; this place screamed typical Tymmie, with its sheer isolation from the rest of the world and its seemingly overbearing overtones that gave the eerie notion of foreboding. He shifted the car into park, and methodically turned the key in the ignition. The car gave a shuddering effect before it turned off.
"Well, we're here." He deadpanned, his eyes trained at the doorway of the building.
Lance shifted in his seat to glare at Murray, "This had better not be a trap." His voice was low and threatening.
Murray squirmed in his seat a little, but the arrogance remained, "Why would I lead the Atrox's once favorite lackey into a trap?"
Lance's dark eyes narrowed, and the rest of the car could sense his patience dwindling dangerously low, "I'm warning you Murray." He spat, slowly unbuckling his seatbelt.
"I warning you Murray," Murray mimicked under his breath bitterly.
Tessa eyed the both of them with annoyance, "Let's get this show on the road," She stated crisply.
Aria exhaled, looking at the ominous building looming before them, and an involuntary shiver ran down her spine. The thought crossed her mind briefly how Riley must be feeling right now. Aria was only looking at the place where her captor lived, and it still gave her the creeps.
Lance stepped out of the car first, the sound of the door closely reverberating a hollowed sound that echoed. Tessa clenched her fist and then followed after him, dragging a rather reluctant Murray out with her by his elbow. Finally it was just Aria and Trysten sitting in the car.
Aria stared long and hard at the hands clasped in her lap, fear pounding in her chest so loudly she was sure he could hear. Inhaling shakily, she sent another furtive glance to the apartment building. Tymmie was somewhere in there, and she momentarily felt herself paralyzed with fear. He was stronger than all of them, perhaps with the exception of Trysten.
But then another thought entered her mind, this one stronger than the first; Riley was in there too.
And Riley was currently at Tymmie's mercy.
She shot a look at the oddly hesitant Trysten before following Tessa out the door of the car.
Trysten just sat there, knowing he had to move, yet his body unwilling to submit to his mental directions. Sluggishly, he stared out the window to see Tessa already storming towards the door, while Lance tried to hold her back, and he almost laughed at the slightly comical sight.
Well, he would have, if his throat wasn't so damn choked up.
He drummed his fingers along the steering wheel as he mentally prepped himself. Tonight he would have his long-delayed reunion with the man who had ruined his life. Tymmie had been the ultimate betrayer, and he wanted nothing more than to confront him once and for all. His mouth suddenly felt very dry, Tymmie was going to cross Riley over tonight, and soon. He felt it in his gut.
Trysten couldn't let that happen.
Sighing, he unbuckled his seat belt, and rested his hand on the handle of the door-
-but he paused.
His head snapped up, and his eyes became trained to the darkened alleyways that started on the side of the building. There was a presence, he could feel it slowly coming closer, overwhelming him. He tensed, and tapped into his telepathy, trying to sense who it was that had caused such a reaction.
The world seemed to become still when he recognized the presence as none other than Tymmie. He focused more on the thought pattern, trying to see if Riley was somehow with him. He flinched when his telepathy was suddenly violently blocked. Tymmie had sensed him as well.
He got out of the door quickly, and looked to Lance, who appeared to have a similar reaction. "I felt him a moment ago," He said calmly, his tone betraying the frantic thud of his heart.
Lance inclined his head and sighed, "I did too." His head swiveled towards the alley, "There?" He asked, slightly uncertain.
Trysten nodded grimly.
"What's going on with you?" Tessa demanded, popping a hip in impatience.
Murray let out a heartless chuckle, "Tymmie's coming."
Aria and Tessa both visibly paled.
"What?" Aria whispered.
Lance shot her an irritated look, but Trysten answered blankly, "He's felt our, or at least my, presence. He knows we're here." As an afterthought, he added, "Get ready to fight."
Murray smirked, "You're no match for Tymmie," He commented dryly. Murray hated his leader, but he had enough sense to respect his power.
Tessa looked at the Follower in distaste, "You know, there isn't really a need for a guide anymore, is there?" She questioned innocently.
Trysten restrained himself a faint laugh from the implication behind her words, "No, there isn't."
Tessa let a devilish grin contort her features, "Wonderful." She said, closing her eyes and focusing strongly on her captive, a hazy golden glow formed slowly around Murray's head and he froze before his head slumped down to his chest and he collapsed onto the ground. Tessa smirked and gave herself a mental pat on the back for a job well done. The creep had been annoying the hell out of her all night.
Her attention was quickly diverted away from the unconscious Murray, however, when she heard Aria give a sharp intake of breath. Tessa turned her head to look at her fellow goddess, and paused when she saw her eyes trained to the opening of the alleyway. Following her gaze, Tessa felt her jaw drop as she saw two figures emerge from the shadows.
The first person she saw was undoubtedly Tymmie. She remembered him vaguely from when he had almost crossed her over two months prior, and she had to quell a shudder of disgust. His mere presence was terrifying, as he was dressed entirely in black, his long trench coat flapping in the wind and creating the feeling that he was comprised entirely of shadows.
Tessa backed up slightly when she saw his yellow glowing eyes peering from behind a few stray pieces of black hair. The light of the moon reflected off some of his numerous silver piercings, giving him the sinister look of a demon.
"Let me handle him," Came Trysten's constant monotone, tensing into a somewhat fighting stance.
Lance said nothing, but also prepared for a fight against the slowly approaching figure.
Tessa stared at him, and her breathing rapidly increased when she realized that he was not alone. Behind him, a figure followed closely, and Tessa squinted, trying to make out the person's features, hoping against hope that it was Riley.
When the person with Tymmie stepped under a streetlight, Tessa felt a grin breaking on her face when she saw the maroon hair. Although she was too far away to see the features of this person, she knew that it had to be her, after all, how many people in this world had that shade of hair color?
Unable to contain herself, she broke into a sprint at seeing Riley again, her boots echoing against the pavement.
"Tessa, no-!" Lance called after her as she ran towards whom she thought was Riley.
Tessa paid him no heed, and by the time she had reached her destination it was too late. Tessa recoiled when she was close enough to see the person's face.
This wasn't Riley.
Riley's eyes did not glow yellow under the moon.
Taking a careful evaluation, Tessa noticed that the woman before her was maybe about twice Riley's age, yet there were some blatantly similar characteristics. The maroon hair, the body frame, and some of the facial structure indicated that Tessa was staring at Riley in about fifteen years. She paused, suddenly realizing her grave mistake as she looked upon the woman who could only be Cassandra, Riley's mother, for the first time.
"Now what do we have here?" Cassandra drawled in a lack of amusement, and Tessa was shocked at the harshness of her voice. She had expected her to sound somewhat like Riley, mellow and soft.
Tymmie snorted besides her, "Looks like the rescue team has arrived," He said, and Tessa immediately discovered that she didn't like his patronizing tone.
"Where's Riley?" She heard from behind her, she turned to see Trysten standing there, Lance by his side, and Aria hanging back.
Tymmie's head jerked at the sound of her name, a dark glare entered his eyes, "Don't know." He spat.
Trysten froze and crossed his arms, "Don't play dumb with me." He growled.
Cassandra stared at him for a moment, her breath caught in her throat as she realized who it was in front of her, "Stan-" Her voice trailed off and she shook her head, mentally berating herself for her stupidity, "You must be Trysten."
He nodded, and stared at her, noticing the uncanny resemblance her and her daughter shared, excepting the one key factor, the lack of hate that was in Riley's eyes, "You must be Cassandra." He stated.
Cassandra's eyes drifted to his other companion and a snort escaped her lips, "You? What are you doing here?"
Lance glared at her, "Repaying a debt." Was all he said cryptically, "You would know all about that, wouldn't you, Cassandra?"
She flinched and sneered at him, "Shut the hell up," She said crassly.
Tessa and Aria watched the spectacle unravel before them silently, neither feeling that they were in a place to object or argue. All they could truly do was watch the interaction between those cursed by the Atrox.
Trysten and Tymmie continued in their stare down, and the girls assumed that they were having some type of telepathic conversation, but it was broken suddenly, as Tymmie looked away from Trysten's eyes.
"Go away Trysten," Was all he said, his voice loosing its mocking quality to be replaced with something on par with regret, "Tonight's not your night."
In response, he stared at Tymmie, "That's not an option."
Tymmie snorted, "Why not? Because of your ridiculous morals?" He shook his head, "Be selfish for once Trysten, run away."
"No."
"You don't want to get involved tonight," Tymmie continued.
"I know. But I have to." Trysten's words were clipped and even.
Aria stared at the two in some form of wonder, was it just her, or was Tymmie warning Trysten?
"You don't have to do anything," Tymmie countered, his fist clenching tightly, "Riley's out of both of our reaches."
Trysten allowed a mild look of shock to grace his features, "What do you mean?"
Tymmie was about to answer, but Cassandra cut him off, "Don't you say a word." She growled.
Tymmie considered her words and nodded his consent to them. It was wisest to leave them out of this, for them to ignore Riley's unfortunate predicament. She was already doomed, no need for the Atrox to suffer an entanglement against the rag-tag group that consisted of Trysten, the former Immortal, and two Goddesses.
"Where is Riley?" Trysten reiterated, glaring harshly at Cassandra, who met his stare.
"Why should we tell you?" She hissed darkly.
"Because I'm going to save her," The way Trysten spoke, it was finite. It was not an empty promise; it was an oath.
"What makes you think you can?" Cassandra scoffed.
Tymmie said nothing, he only stood next to Cassandra and evaluated Trysten, waiting for his answer.
"Because I'm the one the Atrox truly wants," Trysten hated the way his voice shook slightly towards the end of his statement.
Cassandra gave a short laugh, "How clueless are you little boy?" She said in a patronizing tone.
"What do you mean?"
"You think the Atrox just made Riley a Lecta to get to you? Wake up!" Her words were cruel.
Lance interjected, "They hold Trysten in a higher regard than Riley, and we all know they would eagerly make the switch."
"No they wouldn't," Tymmie spoke up, "The Atrox can sense Trysten's weakening resolve as it is, and both are primary targets."
"Why Riley?" Aria said, her curiosity no longer containing itself, "Why choose her to become a Lecta?"
Cassandra sneered at her, "That's information you are not to know."
"That's bullshit!" Tessa cut in, "Tell us right now!"
The look Cassandra sent her had her next outburst dying in her throat, "You think you're the tough one, don't you?" Cassandra purred, "I've seen your type so many times over the years. You aren't tough, you're weak in your ignorance."
Tessa went rigid and her nostrils flared slightly, "You don't know what the hell you're talking about!" She proclaimed.
Cassandra waved her hand dismissively at her and ignored the reaction. Instead she focused her attention of Trysten, "Why would you be willing to sacrifice your freedom for hers?" She wondered, regarding his proposal of a switch.
Trysten looked her dead in the eyes, "She's just like me." He whispered, "Torn between two worlds, condemned by her parents' sins," He stared at her pointedly as he said this, but she didn't look away, "She had no choice in the matter, she was doomed since birth."
"Which is why she can't be saved," Tymmie said, causing Trysten to look at him in distaste, "It's the truth, Trysten. You are right, she was doomed since birth, there's no going back." He inhaled, "She is like you in that perspective."
Trysten bristled, "I refuse to believe there's no way out for her."
Tymmie just stared at him and his voice was soft when he spoke, "She's means a lot to you, doesn't she? Not just her situation, but her."
Trysten considered his words before he nodded, "Yes."
"Enough that you would throw away your freedom?" Tymmie prodded, "Answer carefully."
The words rested heavily on his mind, but he nodded. Lance sighed heavily and placed his hands in his pockets, expecting, but not pleased, with Trysten's answers.
Tymmie chewed on his lip piercing, "Then I'm not going to stop you." He paused, "The choice is yours alone." Tymmie's thoughts unwilling drifted to the semi-speech Riley had given him before she had run off, about how she resented her qualities, how she wasn't ready to give up completely. When he looked at Trysten, he could see those same traits in him, and he silently registered that if there was a chance to save Riley, he would be the only one who could do it. He looked at Cassandra for confirmation, but she was remaining oddly enough, silent.
Trysten did not question Tymmie's bizarre response, instead he took advantage of the situation, "Where is she?"
Tymmie sighed, "The Regulator, Isaac, has her." He stared at Trysten, his eyes glowing, "She doesn't have a lot of time."
Trysten nodded, "Thank you." He said, his voice so quiet he was sure no one heard him. He turned around abruptly and headed for his car. Tessa and Aria eyeing the pair of Followers warily before going after him, finally there was only Lance, Tymmie and Cassandra left.
"You know that you've condemned him," Lance said bitterly.
Tymmie shrugged, his nonchalant attitude returning to him, "I can not change or make his decision, Zahi, and neither can you."
Lance flinched slightly at the usage of his old name, but composed himself, "I won't let him fall." He said more to himself than to his Follower counterparts.
Tymmie said nothing, but gestured his head towards Trysten's, once Stanton's, black car, "You had better go."
Lance nodded, and turned around sharply.
As soon as the car was out of eyesight, Tymmie turned to Cassandra, "Go ahead, let me hear it." He said bitterly.
There was a silence.
"C'mon, tell me I'm an idiot, a disgrace, you've gotten quite good at it over the years," Tymmie chided.
When the silence continued, Tymmie looked at her in curiosity, "What's gotten into you?" He stated.
Cassandra only merely shook her head, "He's not like his father." Was all she said.
"That's a good thing," Tymmie answered.
Cassandra sighed, the feelings constricting within her taking a toll on her well-being. She wanted Riley safe, she wanted her to be free from the Atrox like Cassandra would never be. But that lingering hope had always been overpowered by the doubts, and the harsh facts of sheer reality. There was no escape for Riley, not now, not ever.
Yet…
When he had said those few words, that look in his eye had almost convinced her, she shook her head, reprimanding herself as she watched the black car becoming smaller and smaller in the distance.
"I hope so." She said softly, almost to herself, but Tymmie caught it. She turned around and walked away from the scene, and it wasn't long before she disappeared into the shadows, leaving Tymmie behind.
His thoughts kept mulling over the words Riley had said.
"I may be consumed by my own evil, and I may hold hatred in my heart. But I resent those qualities. I don't embrace them, I have not given up yet."
Inwardly, he hoped that she was right, hoped that she was stronger than him. That she wouldn't give up, and that she would keep fighting, if only for a little while longer.
The alternatives were too bleak to consider.
Tymmie stared at the ground, and he noticed the facedown form of none other than Infidus lackey Murray. He sighed, deducting that he must have served as a guide to Trysten and the rest of them. He knew eventually, he would have to wake him up andinformthe rest of Infidus of the circumstances. But at the moment, he simply couldn't muster up enoughtenergy to care.
His eyes drifted to the horizon and the Los Angeles traffic that constantly graced the city.He groaned as he soon found himself worrying about Trysten, yet for some reasonworrying even more over Riley.
He didn't want to admit to himself why.
OoOoOoOoOoOoOo
Oy. This chapter's FINALLY done. This was a beastly chap to write, nineteen pages long. :goes crazy: Hope you liked it!
Next up: Riley's rude awakening. A possible fluffy moment too, if I'm in the mood.
That's all .
!nym!