RUNEMASTER
Rating 》 T-M for Profanity, Adult Situations, Violence and Sexual Content
Pairing 》 Major Reid/OC & Minor Tyler/OC
Disclaimer 》 Fandoms, canons, music, references and source material are not mine, but this plot is. No monetary profit made.
Author's Note 》 For fanart, fanmixes and fanvids, go to hapadoll,wixsite,com/hapadoll (replace , with . )
5. It Followed Me Home, Can I Keep It?
This whole new piece of information shook them. It wasn't impossible—nothing was completely out of their realm of understanding, but it seemed implausible. They knew witchcraft was still a living reality for many and not just a superstition. There were stories of other families, other covens around the globe; but like their own, it was well-guarded and kept out of sight. It's a bit like fight club: you don't talk about it.
"How sure are you?" Caleb asks, running a finger along the cleft of his brow.
Reid's surer than sure. "Hundred percent".
"He's not lying, Caleb," adds Tyler. He shares a look with the blond as he paces between the two. "I even felt it in the hallway on the way to her room, but I didn't say anything because Sarah was right there. I didn't want to freak her out."
Caleb chuckles to himself, but there's no mirth to it. All he can do is wonder how he's supposed to respond. Their discussions are usually a lovely group endeavor of four clashing opinions, but this time everyone looks to him for answers to different questions. It's an eerily quiet night, like a bomb just went off and leveled their part of the world. And hell, it kind of did. Never thought he'd actually welcome Reid's bull in a china shop thinking or Pogue and Tyler jumping in to give their two cents.
Standing straight, his mouth opens a few times like he's got something to say, but nothing comes out, and he closes it again. As if repeating this process would somehow kick-start his brain into working well enough to figure out a possible solution. All he can come up with is the simplest and most obvious.
"We need to talk to her."
Reid nods, surprisingly in agreement without a fight. He's always been the shoot first, ask questions later type. Caleb got it right this time. It was no use to bother with subtlety. They were going straight to the source. If Kemp was a witch and they confronted her with their knowledge, she couldn't expose them without exposing herself. They had her in a corner.
"Maybe we should check the book first," suggests Tyler. That was always their go-to.
Caleb verbally disagrees. They're not wasting time re-reading the Book of Damnation when they already know there's nothing in there about women ever having power, at least not in their lines. As far back as their ancestries can be traced, it's only ever been passed onto the first born male of each generation, no exceptions. That wasn't to say that other families didn't inherit their power differently, but they would have no knowledge of that. Their book was specific to Danvers, Parry, Garwin and Simms lineage.
"I already have a whole list of questions I want to ask," Caleb adds.
He spins around and faces Reid and Tyler's desktop computer, camouflaged under a sea of throwaway papers and empty cans of Red Bull. He mentally structures the message he'll send, which he will do from his own laptop during the time he set aside to tweak his valedictorian speech for the fifth time. It will be clear and direct without any damning specifics. No wishy-washy or ambiguous language to be lost in translation.
"Same," Pogue agrees, admitting that he's still uneasy about the whole thing. "I won't be able to relax until I know she's not a threat. If Reid and Ty confirmed she's got some kind of power, it's no use researching when we can get answers straight from the horse's mouth."
There's a sense of urgency to confirm that Kemp isn't another addict with an agenda. The amount of power generated in the past week raised more than a few red flags. They now know who's behind it, but they still don't understand why it surfaced in such strength and so suddenly. She wasn't a mysterious new girl who dropped in to stir things up; she'd been in Ipswich for a couple years. Why now?
"I'm going to reach out to her tonight," says Caleb.
Tyler shakes his head and tells them to give her some space. She's still a person with a life, as much as they are. A heavily medicated person who was just laying in a hospital bed with an IV running out of her arm last they saw only a few hours ago.
"She's just getting discharged tonight after going into an asthma induced coma." He checks the time on his phone. It's already eight o' clock. "She's probably only getting home now. Give her a day to recover, Caleb..."
They all know Caleb is going to do what he wants or believes is right no matter who likes it or not, except Pogue and Reid seem to be fully on board as well. None of them consider sensitivity for this girl or seem to show sympathy for the very real trauma she just endured. It seemed Tyler was the only one with any compassion.
"I don't expect her to respond right away, that's fine. I'll just get the ball rolling on our end and figure out how to make a meet-up happen. We'll find a mutual time and place we all feel comfortable, where we can all sit down and talk this through in a civilized manner so it doesn't seem like a witch-hunt."
"Don't worry, Baby Boy, we're not going to banish her from whence she came―we just want to know how the hell she got her power," says Reid. His baby blues dart around from behind his shield of bangs. "Unless she's a psycho witch with a capital B. Then we'll banish her ass."
Tyler rolls his eyes and blocks a playful nudge from his friend. There's numerous more insults and cusswords thrown between the rambunctious group of boys. Since they couldn't do anything about the moot case until a later time, the conversation shifts over to graduation.
Tomorrow was going to be full day for all of them. Hell, tonight alone there were still a number of things that needed to get done. Things they'd procrastinated until the very last minute. Reid and Tyler needed to box up their stuff, clean up and check-out by 4:00 PM the next day. That meant opting out of any Friday night plans, but it was alright since tomorrow night's the real party.
"Alright boys, get the hell out, we need to pack our crap. Say your last goodbyes to the Deflower Shop," Reid motions to the bedroom with a dirty smirk on his face as he more or less pushes his two eldest friends out the door. "Caleb, make whatever revisions you need to make on the speech nobody will even remember in a week. Pogue, go bang the shit out of Kate while you're still in the same zip code."
Pogue flips him off with the arm that's not around Caleb's shoulders and hollers, "see you fellas tomorrow!"
Reid chuckles. He's giddy as a schoolboy on the first day of summer vacation, which is exactly what he is. They've sure had some good times in junior year, and he can't wait to make more memories this year.
It felt good to be home. Had she really been gone only a week? Seems as if it had been months. All was dark and silent in the Berzin residence when Kemp enters through the front door of the cozy, deserted house, kicking her shoes off on the mat. Her parents follow closely behind and do the same.
They'd been watching her like a hawk all thirty minutes of the ride back from Gloucester. Between rear-view mirror glances and quick double takes to assure she hadn't disappeared from the backseat in the style of some campy urban legend, they were reluctant to let her out of sight. It felt nice to be fawned over to that degree. They'd cared for bloody noses, stomach flus, colds and everything in between, but the severity of this situation and their response to it went beyond any of it. She felt loved. And safe. Especially with a man in the house again. After everything, having mom and dad there together was a treat.
"Why is it so dark in here?" Winona asks, feeling for a switch.
"Because the lights aren't on," Don replies with a slight smile.
Winona rolls her eyes, turns on a couple of lights and says, "Gabi usually leaves every light and TV in the house on. The electric bill is too high! Where is she anyway?"
Kemp winces out of sensitivity at the sudden brightness, almost losing her balance, but her dad steadies her by gently gripping her shoulders. The small touch bears a resemblance to a branding iron, but she doesn't complain out loud to raise more concern.
"Out with some girl friends. To a pool hall," came Don's answer as he shrugs out of his black hoodie.
Is that what Gabi sugarcoated it as? Kemp thinks, their parents would not like that. Nicky's is a straight-up bar. A bar with loads of older guys, that gets pretty rowdy on weekends.
"Seriously?!" Winona starts off a verbal tennis match. "She never mentioned a thing to me... Neither of you thought to let me know?! I've got one daughter missing... for days! And the other one thinks it's okay to go gallivanting around town without checking in with me first?! You guys are unbelievable."
"What the hell do you mean 'you guys'? How was I supposed to know she didn't already clear it with you? You don't get to blame me for you not raising her to be accountable."
"I'm raising our daughter?! Just me?"
"Well, you kind of built this whole world without me in it, in Ipswich. Your house, your rules, your system. You've made me the weekend dad."
As quickly as the nostalgia overcame Kemp with potential hope, they remind her why they separated. She's not up for their nonsense after the day she's had.
"I'll be in my room if anyone needs me," she says over her shoulder. The pair are reminded they're parents and pause their argument to call after her with concern, but she chases them away with a wave of her hand. "I feel fine. I just want to shower and get in bed."
"Okay, call us if you need anything," says her mother, reluctant to let her go on her own. "I'm going to heat up something for dinner."
Great, that means gluten free, corn free, soy free, lactose free and taste free. Maybe if I'm starving, mom's cooking will taste better.
After one last glance, she leaves the room and heads to the upstairs shared bathroom. She closes the door, so she can't hear whatever crap the two adults are chastising each other with and strips, putting her dirty clothing into the overflowing hamper. Looks like her mom neglected the housework in her absence, and Gabi was never any help with that kind of thing.
Speaking of Gabi, all her hair stuff and makeup is dumped out onto the counter amongst the thousands of bobby pins strewn about. Kemp's got half a mind to swipe her arm across the surface, knocking everything off to give herself some room because she's tired of fighting for the sink space.
Instead, she examines her naked body in the mirror as far as it'll show her. This time she's not sizing up how small her breasts are, how high and wide her hips sit or how flat her stomach looks―she's checking to see if anything's changed to reflect the way her insides are feeling; different. If there's any discernible differences in her appearance from the outside. There isn't. She looks exactly the same. Same small boobs, flabby stomach and violin hips. Except her hair's greasier than she'd normally ever allow it to be and she can just feel the clogged pores on her face. She's desperate for a good shower.
Kemp gets under the water with her whole body, head and all. The temperature is still cool as the heat hasn't quite made it all the way up through the old pipes. Even then, her skin feels like it could burst open at any minute with the high water pressure.
She closes her eyes, imagining the discomfort away, trying to focus on anything else as she lathers up. There's a burst of energy bubbling up in her veins like a shot of adrenaline into her bloodstream and it steadily rises until it peaks. Through her chest, radiating up through her neck and head. It's so strong and sudden, and the pain is gone like a switch flipped. The oxygen in each breath now seems more plentiful. The water cascading over her body makes everything feel simple, clean and healing.
She feels completely alive, where every sense is heightened and magnified. She feels it in her fingers, in her toes, in every bone and joint of her body. The scent of her pineapple, clementine shampoo is more exotic. The sound of the streaming water reverberates. Every sight is lush. Everything seems to suddenly pop into clear focus. It's like she's living in HD; the world on a giant flat screen TV. Everything seems more crystal clear than she ever knew, even her hand in front of her face. So rich in detail. Colors are especially bright and vivid.
"What the hell is wrong with me?" she asks herself out loud, still staring at her raised hand.
Something wasn't right, but she couldn't figure out what it was. She's starting to think the ordeal left her more damaged than she originally thought and it terrifies her.
Pogue appears thrilled to death to have Kate in his arms and he shows it by showering her with sweet kisses and deep affection. He makes it a point to ensure that she feels his entire attention is hers and she does. It makes her feel as if she's the most beautiful, important girl in his world and she is.
He wants her to stay over more than she possibly knows, asks her a few times with puppy dog eyes and sexy pouts, changing tactics each time, but she refuses politely enough. He knows her so well just like the back of his own hand, knows how to get to her heartstrings, which to pull and which to preserve just like he's got all the most sensitive and intimate spots of her body memorized. He could bring her to her knees if he wanted to, but sometimes she could be so stubborn. It frustrated him endlessly but ironically was also one of the things that initially attracted him to her.
"Babe," she says, holding onto either side of his face affectionately. The contrast of her silky smooth skin against the rough stubble of his jawline feels like night and day, like summer and winter. "Believe me, I would love nothing more than to have a naked slumber party with you, but you have to leave extra early tomorrow and I'm heading down later with Sarah. It just makes the most sense."
He sighs because she's got a point, but he wants her to be reckless and impulsive for once. Wordlessly, he brings her left hand down towards his mouth to place a light as a feather kiss into her palm. Soft and gentle, like his feelings for her. He doesn't speak or voice his disappointment, but it's there and she knows him well enough to see it written on his handsome features. Especially since similar emotions have been plaguing her for weeks.
It's been wearing on her to know that in a few months they'd be at different schools, in different states, and meeting different people. They'd sat down together, brought their concerns and insecurities to the other, have also had many long talks on the matter like a mature couple. It was adamantly agreed to on both ends that they'd stay together through the distance because it's not about who lives close to you, it's about who is close to your heart. However, it was by no means ideal. She was going to miss the hell out of him. And she was about to be away in another country for three weeks. Just thinking about it all made her blue like a lovesick Cookie Monster.
"Besides," she tries, convincing herself just as well as him. "It's not like Sarah can stay at her own house. It's way too far to just go and come right back. I don't want to leave her alone in our empty room all night. Check-out isn't even until tomorrow, but the dorms are already mostly abandoned. It's super creepy right now."
"Yeah, the dorms are definitely haunted," he agrees with a light chuckle, more for her than himself.
Spenser was one of the oldest high schools in the United States, along with several others in Massachusetts. It was built in 1648, almost as old as Harvard. Though the buildings were impressive to look at during the day, the dorms were creepy as hell at night and wasn't one of his top places to be on their beautiful campus.
It was one reason he opted for his own place senior year. That and privacy, which was a commodity almost as valuable as shimmering rubies around the Parry home between his parents and sisters. He had wanted his own space and independence, even the responsibilities of cooking and cleaning after himself, laundering his own clothes, and being accountable for his own punctuality. It actually prepared him for college life where it would mark the beginning of the real thing, the real deal: adulting.
Pogue adds to his previous statement that "most people usually move out early and stay at home the last few days. It's easier than rushing around. But I get it, she doesn't have a home to go to in Ipswich and you want to be there for your friend.".
Pogue liked Sarah a lot, and he loved that Kate had a friend in her, but a slight ripple of jealousy ran through him at the thought of Kate choosing her over him. It was stupid really. He was secure with himself and their relationship for the most part, not much the possessive type, and obviously Sarah wasn't a threat, but sometimes Kate made him feel like he had to compete for her attention while he showered her with his. It wasn't a good feeling. It was as if she were unable to put herself in his shoes or comprehend that sometimes men have the same emotional needs as women.
"I know the timing is a little crummy, but my trip is only a few weeks," she says, trying to sound optimistic, even while biting her lip. She's never been good at concealing her emotions from her face. "Those three weeks will come and go and I'll be back with some hilarious stories and ridiculous family photos before you know it. And then I will be all yours for the rest of summer. Promise," she smiles pure love and it reaches her beautiful brown eyes, which involuntarily makes him mirror the gesture just as brightly.
She was his and she'd be back. That would be when he'd tell her his biggest secret, the only real secret he'd kept from her. The physical distance next semester would be enough to overcome, he didn't want anything else to separate them.
They were there for at least an hour before she realized Tyler wasn't coming, which was total bullshit. It was his usual spot, he was there almost every night with Reid at the pool tables in the back. Even Aaron Abbot and his friends were there. Tonight of all nights, predictable Tyler chose to be mysterious.
Gabi finishes her cigarette after a couple tentative and inexperienced puffs. She didn't even smoke, she just wanted to walk away with an excuse for a few minutes. Of course that backfired when her dates' friend Mike who was a smoker followed her out. Her pretense became obvious to him when she bummed one off him instead of carrying a pack of her own like any smoker, but he was either too polite or disinterested to call her out.
They had only been outside a few minutes, but it was awkward, tense, and they barely spoke. They'd only met that night, so they had virtually no commonalities to talk about. Yet it was still more enjoyable than being around her own date Ethan? Evan? because at least there were no expectations.
The guy Penelope set her up with was nice and respectful, paid her tab for the night despite his working class origins, had good teeth and was more handsome when he smiled, but he talked about himself a little too much, so she wrote him off. Perhaps he wasn't aware he was doing it. If she'd told him about her observation, maybe he would have been willing to work on it, but she wasn't interested so it didn't matter. She took advantage of a sweet guy who was into her for some drinks. And to make her ex-boyfriend jealous. Mostly the latter, but Tyler wasn't even there so the whole purpose of the evening turned into a complete waste of time.
Mike butts his cigarette out, disappears through the back door and rejoins the group inside. After lingering outside a few moments longer to make a quick phone call, Gabi follows him in and sulks at the table. Mike's taken one of the wooden straight back chairs, turned it around, and straddled it to face the table as he speaks.
The group make a few jokes about Mike being the poster boy for emphysema, lightly touch on politics and philosophy and discuss upcoming summer plans. Normally, Gabi is the one who monopolizes the conversation for quite a time without interruption, but she's too distracted to engage much.
Penelope takes note of her best friend's behavior: how she's sitting back, sulking with her arms crossed. Not really participating in the conversation despite several attempts at including her. How she's been deflecting every question thrown her way.
The guys probably assumed she was either shy or maybe a little socially awkward, but she knows her better. She excuses herself to the bathroom, saying she's going to pee herself if she doesn't go right then and there, dragging Gabi behind her by the arm. The girls weave through the crowd like Gabi is some kind of celebrity with her bodyguard. There's a line out the bathroom, so they find a dark corner to talk instead.
"Listen, I know you're bummed Tyler didn't show, but surprisingly I think Mike and I are kinda vibing. I mean I've always thought he was cute, but I never took him up on his advances. He's actually kind of... awesome to hang with. So please be a wing-woman? We'll work on Tyler later," says Penelope, once they're out of anyone's earshot.
"Um... I'm actually getting picked up... by Tyler. I called him when I was outside. He sounded like he was busy with Reid, but I gave him this ridiculous sob story and told him my date dug out on me. He's on his way to give me a ride home."
"Really?" Penelope is instantly surprised and doesn't even know how to respond at first. "You're just going to bail? That's fucked up. I set this whole double date up for you and you're going to leave me hanging?"
Gabi knows she's kind of selfish and a flake, but she can't help it. She feels bad, but not enough to keep her from leaving. Plan "A" bombed out, so welcome to plan "B". Wasn't it better to cut the evening short rather than string her poor "date" along anyway?
There's a frown on her face as Gabi cries out "I'm sorry!" which she genuinely means, but she's still not staying. She knows there's no real spite to Penelope's words―nothing that would truly hurt their friendship―just disappointment, but Penny would brush it off the next day like they both do when the other would be a crummy friend.
Penelope is not above begging a few times, tries asking her friend to reconsider, even tries to entice her with promises of marijuana and alcohol to lighten the mood for everyone, but Tyler's text comes in saying he's waiting out front.
"Fine, go," she says to Gabi, though she's focusing on herself in the reflection of some vintage wall decor, coming her fingers through her hair, feeling the soft brown curls running around them. "At least say goodbye to the Mike and Eli. Don't just disappear and make things weirder."
The girls walk back to the table, arm in arm. The music's switched over to a new genre: '90s alternative. The dated shit Kemp listens to on repeat, way too loudly. Speaking of which, her sister was the perfect excuse. Everybody in town heard about what happened. Gabi walks right to the empty chair, grabs the cardigan draped around it and shoves her arms into it.
"Hey guys, I'm really sorry to do this, but a family emergency came up. My sister got home from the hospital a few hours ago and she's having a relapse. I should go be with her."
Elijah immediately asks if she needs anything, including a ride home and Mike confirms she's doing the right thing saying, "family first". The lying feels worse considering how understanding they're being. Gabi assures them she has a ride, even goes as far as saying it's her dad who's outside waiting rather than Tyler Simms and kisses both boys on the cheek saying how nice it is to meet them.
Penelope shouts "tell your dad I say hi" as she eyes her friend's departing backside knowingly, thinking how ballsy it is having your ex pick you up from a date with another guy.
Caleb showered, then practiced his speech in the mirror while he shaved. He imagines the look on his family's faces, the emotional gleam in his mother's eyes, and how proud of him they'll all be when his name is called and he strolls across the stage to take his place at the podium. He will look over the audience, and when he spots his family he'll give them a subtle gesture of acknowledgment. He will give a wonderful speech, and everyone will applaud and cheer after he's finished.
The speech itself is riddled with every cliche in the English lanuage from similies and analogies to metaphors and idioms. It's about as cheesy as they come, as if he were a motivational speaker pumping his peers up for what's to follow. And the content works―nothing beats a classic―but the delivery feels rather half-hearted and he's aware of how it sounds when he recites it.
He'd gone over it a million times, a million different ways, but he couldn't make the words sound natural. Of course he was looking forward to graduation, but the events of the week were still weighing quite heavily on his mind. It was time for a break, maybe change gears to let his mind settle down and come back fresh. He'd been at it long enough anyway. His face couldn't be smoother if it was covered in coconut oil. At least he'd look good standing up there tomorrow.
He swaps his towel for a pair of running bottoms and a plain black tee, but his feet are still bare and cool against the hardwood floor of his adjacent bedroom. He posts up in bed, propping himself with a few pillows and reaches for the laptop laying haphazardly at the edge.
The Windows welcome screen greets him upon startup and he enters his password to log in. It takes several moments for the desktop to appear so he fiddles with his phone while it loads. The computer wasn't an older one, but the dozens of programs slowed it down and its hard drive was nearly at capacity. He did put a lot of wear and tear into it over the intensive school year. A replacement would do him well for fall, so he adds that to his summer to-do list though he doesn't particularly love shopping.
When he's finally able to navigate the screen, he goes to address something else on the list, something higher in priority. Facebook opens and he uses its search function to locate a specific person. Her account pulls up with ease because of the unique name and their high number of mutual friends, including her sister.
Then he types up a quick message and sends it off to the recipient, asking her to reply as soon as possible. It's concise, almost to the point of confrontational without actually mentioning any specifics. Though he wants to make sure she knows that he's keen to her, he keeps it as friendly as possible, adding the occasional smiley and an exclamation point here or there. He doesn't want to make an enemy straight off the bat. The last thing he needs is more trouble on his hands. Hopefully they can coexist peacefully, that is, if he deems her to not be a threat.
He wonders if she's awake or not and if she'll read it tonight. Most girls are attached to social media at the hip, although he doesn't know her well enough to know what type she is. He wasn't a huge fan himself, he rarely used those types of programs, but here he is chomping at the bit for a response, reloading the page, checking it every few minutes like a desperate high school girl or some creepy stalker. This whole situation was just weird.
Author's Note: To my readers, reviewers, those who favorited and followed, YOUDABEST!