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 . )

7. Waking Nightmare

It was clear from a few key phrases along the lines of, "I don't know if you guys are messing with me," "you all are crazy," and "stay away from me," that the confrontation didn't go over as well as they had hoped for. The entire conversation was disastrous and terrifyingly brief, like drunk sex in the back of a frat house. And there's a good chance there won't be a repeat of it.

Had they freaked her out with their announcement, offered too much information too soon? The kind of information that would make any normal person's head spin into a dizzying haze of emotions and eyes pop like a cartoon character who just discovered love at first sight; the "Ahooga", nerve-wracking, heart-thumping, palm-sweating, stomach-sinking kind.

To their knowledge, they weren't telling her anything she didn't already know, so why did she seem to be so clueless, upset and almost afraid? The way she recoiled you'd think Caleb smacked her.

"Fuuuck... she has absolutely no idea what we we're talking about," realization dawns on Pogue, who desperately wants to relive the past five minutes for a do-over to try it all one more time in a more delicate, walking-on-a tightrope made of eggshells way. "We totally freaked her out. She couldn't get away from us fast enough. Probably thinks we're part of some psycho cult."

He fists both hands into his long, dirty blond hair. Their hold tightens like a punishment for exposing their secret and breaking their sacred covenant. Generations of careful and deliberate silence and solitude undone in one fell swoop. He looks ready to pull his hair out in clumps, trichotillomania style.

The uncertainty in Caleb's dark eyes give away that he too is deeply disturbed about how everything transpired—he is just as surprised and puzzled as the rest of them—though he doesn't allow himself to get frazzled by it. Not outwardly at least. He can't waver, not with the others looking to him for answers.

Confusion doesn't even begin to describe what Tyler's feeling, because he is absolutely sure of his observations. Caleb and Pogue don't want to doubt him, but they have to be objective and realistic too. There is no sixth family. Females don't inherit the power.

"You need to be one-hundred percent sure of the accusation you are making," Caleb reminds him in case he forgot the first time he said that.

"It isn't an accusation if it's true," challenges Tyler, squaring his shoulders like a man who really means business. "We already told you what we both saw with our own eyes," Reid nods in agreement, standing with his friend. "There is some kind of power in that girl, whether she knows it or not."

They consider the new perspective. The noise of partygoers and music and all unnecessary distractions melt away into one big, beautiful blur like a camera does when it focuses on its subjects and everything in the background becomes fuzzy, twinkling lights.

Reid's voice is the first to break the silence. When he's nervous or worried about something—which doesn't happen often—but doesn't want anyone to know, his defense mechanism is to insult people or place blame around, usually on Caleb. The other, most visible giveaway, is when he bites his nails. It happens even less often, so for a guy he's got pretty nice nails. They're strong, nicely shaped and don't chip or break away.

"Are we acknowledging that our fearless leader here made a mistake?"

"Shut up Reid," Caleb admonishes with a typical scowl and his trademark all-knowing superiority. "How were any of us to know what she's privy to and what she's not? How is it even possible for her to be completely oblivious to the fact that she's a witch?"

Reid clears his throat. "Maybe she's like Chase. He was adopted, never knew his birth parents, grew up not knowing about his power until it manifested itself fully."

It is as logical an explanation as any, given the circumstances. At this point, they're grasping for straws to understand it, for an explanation, and a solution to keep the situation under control.

"From what Gabi's told me about her family, they're their parent's biological children," adds Tyler, recalling that one time when they were first dating, they were talking about their families and Gabi mentioned how her parents had a shotgun wedding with her older sister.

Pogue rejoins the conversation. "Seems like the kind of thing a parent should give their kid a heads up about."

"What reason did her parents ever have to mention it?" Reid plays devil's advocate. "It historically has always passed on to male offspring only. It's not a period. I'm sure her mother had that conversation with her in middle school."

"I appreciate the analogy Reid," Caleb widens his eyes in an exaggerated expression. "But uncontrolled magical powers and dangerous supernatural abilities are a little more significant than menstrual cycles. If I had only daughters, I would still tell them about the power regardless. It would be a huge part of their heritage and something they would deserve to know about their ancestors."

Pogue notices a familiar face in the background, one that puts a smile on his own and a little joy in his heart. His current worries seem to melt away and all he feels at the moment is love and happiness. He waves at her, both as a way of saying sorry for being absent, and as a subtle gesture to his brothers that they need to filter what they say.

"To be continued," Caleb's got a stern look on his face, as if a parent had just caught their child sneaking back home past curfew but they're too tired to think of a punishment until morning. "We'll put this on hold for right now. Let's try to enjoy ourselves a little. We did just graduate, so I'm not going to be the doom and gloom stick in the mud tonight, but we're talking more about this tomorrow. Keep your phones on."

"There you guys are!" Kate immediately presses herself into her boyfriend's side and beams at the other three with excessive enthusiasm and flushed cheeks, a sign that she is beginning to get drunk. "Been looking all over for you fools."

"Gracing us with your presence?" Reid smirks, his blue eyes full of secrets.

"Hi Kate," Tyler gives her a warm smile, grateful for the interlude. God knows he could use a drink to decompress.

"A bunch of us are playing flip cup if you want to jump in on the next round."

Reid nods, gently clapping a hand down onto Kate's shoulder as if to tell her "say no more" and starts to walk back towards the party. "Come on fellas, let's go show the girl how it's done. Baby Boy, you're with me."

The ride back home is surreal, almost dreamlike. Both in the way her mom is talking about how she's going to take her shopping the next day, and in the lack of complaints from Gabi about having to leave early.

Something had been "off" the moment she woke up in that hospital bed. People have been so unlike their real selves, too accommodating, too nice, and she sure as hell hasn't been herself lately.

Maybe she hadn't ever woken up. It was entirely possible that she was still in a coma, and the past week has all been one extremely lucid dream and instead of it being a cool dream were you fly around and everything's just fuckin' rad, you feel like you've been bitten by a radioactive spider, then you get confronted, cornered by a group of boy band wannabes who accuse you of being an actual witch.

Kemp drowns out the chitter chatter of the other two, along with the music from the car radio—some kind of chart hit is playing, one she'd heard at least three times that night—and stares out the window at the crisp Massachusetts darkness. Her mom sticks to back roads where traffic is quiet and the roads are empty, save for the occasional streetlight which looks more like blurred trails of light as they whiz by.

She can't stop thinking about what Caleb said. It was unsettling and to say it freaked her out would be a major understatement. The entire conversation plays over and over in her mind, and she analyzes the shit out of it in retrospect, but she can't rationalize his words and it's driving her crazy. Was it some bad joke or stupid dare and they're all back at the party having a laugh at her expense? Reid's a complete dick, so she wouldn't put it past him, but it seems out of character for the others to join in on something so juvenile.

What if it was true? Magic? Powers? After experiencing enough oddities on her own, Kemp is almost relieved by the feeling of not being alone. It'd mean, at the very least, that she's not making up the strange events or suffering some kind of neurological disturbance. She quickly dismisses the thought and chides herself for being so silly. It's impossible. Those assholes were messing with her. An early senior prank, and not a very good one.

When they pull up to the house, Kemp is surprised to see the lights on inside, considering her mother is the ultimate Electricity Nazi, the Wicked Witch of the Light Switch. She asks about it and receives the explanation that her father is still in town.

"I thought he was going back home today," Gabi speaks up from the backseat, unbuckling herself.

"He decided to stay another day," their mom is the first to climb out and head up the driveway. "Wanted to make sure you two got home safely."

It was surprising they were allowed to attend a party where there were minors drinking in the first place. Don and Nonnie Berzin were typically laid back about that kind of thing—the whole, "teenagers will be teenagers", progressive parenting types—but after recent events, they've been overly protective and smothering. Hence the rare chauffeur service.

Inside, the girls greet their dad, who is cooking something that smells good and looks suspiciously like junk food instead of the hippie food their mom's been feeding them lately. He's visibly relieved to see his daughters alive and both in one piece. He asks about the party, hoping that they would stay and talk to him for a while.

"Fine," is all Kemp offers.

Gabi, more than likely still buzzing by the redness in her face and the forthcoming attitude, tells him about something funny that happened during a drinking game. He says he doesn't want his daughter to get too drunk and do something she might regret later.

Too late, Dad, Kemp thinks.

They all need to get their minds off of things, so their mom suggests a movie night to help everyone unwind. It used to be a regular thing for them when the girls were younger. They'd make popcorn and ice cream floats or hot chocolate depending on the season, bring their blankets from their rooms and cuddle up together in the living room. It was one of their nicer traditions and one of her favorite memories. But that's all anything was these days, a memory.

Gabi seems awfully eager, naive enough to believe their parents will get back together when their mom has fulfilled the Eat, Pray, Love phase of her life. Kemp should be enjoying the four of them being reunited, even if only for a few hours, because it's all she's wanted for so long, but she knows the happy family act won't last. When their dad goes back to his apartment in the city, their mom returns to work, and she and Gabi move back into the dorms next fall, everything will go back to their new normal: a family living separate lives. Sometimes pretending to be happy is worse than just being miserable.

"Want Coke floats?"

Gabi accepts Don's offer while Kemp declines, so of course he fixes her one anyway. She rolls her eyes in a playful, oh-brother kind of way. He decorates the heaping mounds of ice cream with a dollop of whipped cream and blend of chocolate-caramel syrup drizzle. He seems more excited about it than she is.

Although she just wants to take a hot shower, relax in bed with her laptop and call it a night, she doesn't have the heart to let her bad mood ruin everyone else's and decides to indulge them. At least it would distract from her thoughts.

"Thanks," she tastes a spoonful. "You guys choose a movie. I'll be right back. Got to check my Facebook real quick."

"These kids and their social media..."

Kemp disappears up the stairs, her mom's words fading as if background noise to deaf ears. In her room, she opens her laptop and powers it on, easing herself into a cross-legged position on the bed next to it. It takes a minute or two, and she uses the time to enjoy her float. It's damn good and indulgent as hell. It almost makes things better. Almost makes her forget all the weirdness happening.

The desktop loads, revealing the background wallpaper of bokeh purple, green and red hues. She opens a browser and pulls up Facebook. She hadn't checked it since being discharged home. There's an overwhelming amount of unread messages and unchecked notifications, most likely well wishes and prayers. She never realized she was that popular or that most people gave a shit. The sentiment is appreciated, but the fuss is more embarrassing than anything.

She sees Caleb's message, skims it over, disregards it, and follows the link to his profile to do a little investigating, but of course is limited by privacy settings. Pogue's page is the same, so she tries Tylers'—the only one of them she is Facebook friends with. She stalks his life but nothing pertinent comes up. Not sure what she's looking for, she's hoping her aimless scrolling and clicking around will yield something useful. Lastly, she checks Reid's page. She removed him from her friends list a while ago, but luckily he keeps his public. Typical for a guy who likes attention, likes to be noticed, and be in the spotlight.

There's a status update from the year prior. It's vague but it catches her eye:

Last night was some shittt fro the books hahah! you could say it was magical ;P

First of all, she wants to go in with a red pen to correct the shit out of his terrible grammar. Second, she's analyzing the use of the word "magical". In any other context, she'd never think twice. It appears to be a harmless synonym for words like "awesome" or "great", but their conversation got her second guessing everything. There's comments under it, but thanks to her farsightedness, the text is comparable in size to that of an ant's ovary.

She puts her spoon in her float, and sets it down onto the flat surface next to the trackpad. Her reading glasses are on the bedside table, where she leaves them every night. When she reaches out, the dip in the bed by the movement causes the glass to tip over. Her first instinct is to reach for it, to stop it from spilling everywhere. And she does, but her hand isn't touching the glass.

Her hand is up, fingers spread apart to catch it, but her reach falls inches short. Its contents—liquidy, melted ice cream—completely frozen still, fucking suspended in mid-air, as if someone pressed the Pause button. With a grand dose of horror and shock, she stares in astonishment, almost paralyzed until a figure in the doorway snaps her out of it, hitting Play/Resume.

"Oh Sweet Moses," her mom doesn't curse often, but she does think fast and grabs a dirty t-shirt from the floor to absorb the spill. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you." She reacts to Kemp's facial expression, who looks like she might throw up. "Don't worry! It doesn't even look that bad, but we'll take it to a repair shop tomorrow on the way to the mall to make sure there's no water damage."

Kemp ignores everything she says and squeaks out, "Did you see that?".

"See what?" she replies, not sure to what she is referring.

"Nothing..."

Her mother frowns, concern etched into the sides of her mouth and corners of her eyes. "What's the matter with you?"

"I said nothing, I'm fine," she brushes it off, adding a joke to defuse any tension and keep things light. "You're giving yourself crow's feet looking at me like that. Come on, let's go watch that movie."

She needs a distraction to keep herself from sliding into a mental breakdown and ending up in a loony bin with a bunch of other crazies in chains and bars.

Of course they want to know how she got her power. Was she truly like them? Was it hereditary like theirs? Or was it an entirely new anomaly that was just as inconceivable to them as theirs would be to everyone else? Was she exposed to high levels of gamma radiation like the Hulk? Because following that theory, radiation is considered powerful enough and capable of creating changes in human DNA. However it was obtained, they've established that she is just as clueless about it as they are and not a malicious threat.

"If she isn't aware of her powers that means she's a ticking time bomb that could go off at any time and anywhere," Caleb sighs at the idea, it wouldn't be any good at all. "She could lose it in public and expose herself."

"And how is that our problem? We're not her keepers," Reid's statement is as insensitive as a piece of wood.

Caleb wants to physically take Reid by the shoulders and shake some empathy and common sense into him. He thinks about actually doing it for a second, but instead, explains it in a more self-centered perspective that he might better understand.

"If that kind of power is ever witnessed on a large scale, it's going to cause mass hysteria and we'll be the first ones people point their fingers at to burn at the stake because our last names are synonymous with witchcraft. It will be the trials all over again."

"It's not just that," Pogue shakes his head, all serious now, and adds, "It's not just about us. We can't let an innocent, unsuspecting girl get hurt".

"Of course not," Caleb says positively, as if he'd known Kemp for years and he was going to protect her like one of his own, because nobody deserves to go through something like this alone. Chase didn't deserve it either. If he had someone, maybe he wouldn't have turned out the way he did. His brothers had each other since birth, they didn't realize what a blessing it was. "Nobody's getting hurt. Not her and not us. The bottom line is, we have to keep an eye on her, make sure she doesn't do anything revealing."

"So essentially the strategy is damage control," says Tyler.

"For now," Caleb nods halfheartedly. "We need to give her some time to process things. I'm sure she's still too freaked out to talk to us again, so don't let her see you, don't interact with her unless she's about to use, then subtly intervene."

"We'll take turns. Not it today," Pogue lazily lifts two fingers, as if raising his hand. "I've got a date with the girlfriend. If I cancel she's going to get suspicious and start following me around," he laughs, shrugging on his jacket.

"Let Caleb show us how it's done," Reid suggests, volunteering him to spend the day being a stalker.

"I've got to help my mom out with some legal stuff for Dad's will," Caleb shrugs, not really sorry. "Sorry. It's you or Baby Boy."

Tyler lifts his head up, looking away from the pages of Chronicles of Paganism, rubbing his eyes to adjust his vision after focusing so intently on the book.

"I was going to spend the day researching, looking through more books, see if I can find anything else we may have overlooked. Unless you want to switch with me."

Ugh. His choices are between homework and actual work.

"Guess I'm stuck babysitting then. I hope she's not doing some boring, girly shit like mani-pedis or hot yoga," he thinks for a moment. "Actually, I could get behind hot yoga."

Shopping was a distraction: a brainless, relaxing task. A wholly materialistic one that requires little to no mental effort but also keeps your attention on sorting and choosing what items are coming with you, and which are not. Time disappears. The interruption is quite welcome. A merciful break from the trepidation raging inside her.

For a few hours, the stress and worry that now accompanies her life is pushed to the back of Kemp's mind. The greatest concern of her day is what size shoe fits best or what color dress looks good on her fair skin, so she chose a few dark colored ones because it makes her skin look luminescent and glowing, along with a couple camisoles for layering. Gabi ended up with some shorts and sandals, appropriate for summer and the warmer weather. Their mom bought a few things as well, mostly makeup and skincare. She casually asked the lady at the cosmetics counter if her favorite lipstick was in stock, and an hour later her face was covered in twenty new colors.

Overall, it was a good day. No arguments, no drama, no crying, no conflicts and no complaints.

By the time they make it back to Ipswich, it's after five. There are lots of useful, everyday stores in town, but not much variety. For one of those huge, three-story, proper indoor malls, you had to go to Northshore in neighboring Peabody. It was about twenty minutes out and far enough away that you wouldn't run into someone you knew at every turn.

"Shall we get something to eat before we head to the house?"

"Oh my God, yes," Gabi's eyes grow wide, as if she read her mind. "I'm freaking starving!"

Kemp mumbles an "mhm" without looking up. She is too busy playing with her new phone to answer, setting everything to her personal preferences, exploring its new features. It's not the latest or fanciest model, and certainly not the most expensive, but it's an upgrade from her previous one, which was fried and sitting in police evidence lockers for some reason. Unfortunately, it had never been backed up, so her contacts and pictures were lost with it.

"You want Nicky's?"

"No," her ears perk up and her eyes tear away from the little screen in her hands. That's the Sons' usual hangout spot. There's no way she's risking bumping into those fools. Not today, Satan. Today was her theoretical Sunday, day after leg day, day of rest, dammit. "Literally any other place is fine."

"Okay, then I'm going to Clam Box."

It's a local eatery transformed into somewhat of a tourist trap with long lines and jacked up prices. A quaint spot full of New England charm, an easy stop to get dinner and get your seafood fix. Not her first choice with a hangover, but it's better than Nicky's. The car makes a sudden and sharp left turn at full speed towards their new destination, her stomach lurches.

Once everyone orders their food—something light and easy for Kemp—and grabs their drinks, the girls snag a table before they can't get a place to sit, while their mom waits by the pick-up window. She insists on standing as close as possible to the counter just in case she miss the announcement of order numbers over the PA system.

Sat across from Gabi, Kemp studies her sister's face: her skin pale under the fluorescent lights, her eyes like chips of emerald ice, sharp and cold but with her round, rosy cheeks and rosebud lips, she almost resembles a cherub pretending to fire arrows from it's eyes.

She wonders if she should tell her about the other night: what Caleb and his silly followers had said to her, how she feels she's slowing but surely losing her mind and her grasp on reality along the way, unleash the truckload of worries and concerns that's been eating away at her inside, wrap her arms around her and tell her she's sorry that they don't always get along, ask for unconditional support and to say reassuring things like "everything's going to be okay" or "we'll figure this out together".

"So, I had an interesting thing happen last night at the party," she blurts it out as Gabi catches her staring, not knowing a better segue.

"Oh yeah?" she asks, raising her eyebrows. "More interesting than disappearing in the woods for a week?"

Kemp laughs, but it's a short, abrupt laugh, more of disbelief than humor. "I just had a weird run-in with Tyler and his friends. They cornered me and accused me of being... telepathic." Not exactly what happened, but sugar coating it is better than nothing.

"That is weird," Gabi says. "That is really weird!" She repeats that phrase a few times. Kemp was hoping for something a little more helpful than that. "People around here are superstitious. They don't think they are, but they are. It's all bullshit, you know?"

"I guess," she sighs with a shrug.

"I'm just surprised. I didn't think Tyler bought into all that hocus-pocus crap, especially considering his own family history."

"What about it?"

She knows some of the stories, the basics, but not all of them. There are rumors aplenty about the four founding families.

"Let's see," Gabi taps her finger on her chin in thought. "I asked him about it once—the whole Witches of Ipswich thing. His ancestors were suspected of witchcraft, but so were most people in those days. He said they're just a bunch of nonsensical stories, nothing but fear mongering and a lot of scapegoating."

"Well yeah," Kemp leans forward a bit and lowers her voice as if afraid of being overheard, even there, over the deluge of chatter. "But all that witch stuff... don't you think it's poss—"

"Well, well, well, if it isn't my favorite pair of legs," a certain blond cuts her off, coming seemingly out of nowhere and she nearly jumps out of her skin. He smirks at her obvious shock and gestures to the two of them. "Isn't this a nice surprise?"

"No," the sisters reply in unison, each for their own reasons.

"Ladies, you are nothing if not honest," Reid chuckles and slides into the seat next to Kemp, pushing her handbag out of the way, their knees bumping under the table.

It forces her to rethink what she was about to say, realizing how crazy it would sound, how there's no way it wouldn't be terrible and awful and many other negative synonyms. So in a strange way, she's thankful for his actions, despite how rude and intrusive they are.

"Can we help you?" Gabi follows it up with a raised eyebrow.

His sarcastic side wants to come out and say, "Well, I don't know, can you?", but thankfully his more tactical self takes over.

"I saw you guys over here and I wanted to take this opportunity to make sure things were copacetic between us."

In reality, he wants Kemp to shut her mouth and stop talking about witch-related matters, but that's not an acceptable thing to say out loud.

"And why would they be, Garwin?" Gabi snorts in disbelief and holds the gaze on his glacier-blue eyes, like she's been wanting to say this to his face for a while. "You guys have been acting like complete psychos lately."

"Gabi," he claps his hands together and points them towards her in an exaggerated apology. "I'm sorry about the public way I told you Tyler wanted to break up. It's not his fault. He wasn't feeling it, and that's okay. I just didn't think it was right to string you along so I ripped that Band-aid off. I'm not sorry I did it, but I am sorry for the way I went about it."

He turns to Kemp, touching her shoulder with the back of his hand. She looks down at his hand and frowns at him as if to say "Why are you touching me", but he ignores it and proceeds with his apology.

"And Kemp, I'm sorry about last night. We were all drunk and being stupid," he reasons, but it's not an explanation and it doesn't make her feel better. "So, are we cool now?"

"Yeah, okay, whatever you say," Gabi rolls her eyes, waving a hand dismissively at him.

Kemp has questions, however. You don't say something that elaborate and specific to somebody and then dismiss it as a drunken faux pas. She begins to question him but is cut off by her mom who chooses that moment of all moments to come back with the food. She subtly rolls her eyes under half-closed lids so nobody notices. She's getting real sick of being interrupted and it feels like nobody's listening.

Reid introduces himself and wastes no time charming the pants off her just like he does everyone else he meets. He makes the whole, "I didn't know you had another sister" comment. She freaking blushes and tells him to call her Nonnie since "everyone else does" and invites him to stay and eat with them despite warning glares from Gabi. Politely, he declines, saying he has a prior engagement and must skedaddle. He doesn't use that exact word, but he may as well because everything else he says is just as corny and over the top.

After thinking about it for a few moments, Kemp decides to get up and follows him out. He hasn't gone far, just around the corner, walking at a leisurely pace, as if he owns time.

"That apology was bullshit," she calls after him, getting him to turn around. "You said sorry in a general sense, but not for making all that crazy stuff up." She doesn't know if she wants him to apologize more specifically or look her in the eyes and tell her it's all true, every last insane bit of it. "Last night after I went home... I-I witnessed the defying of gravity, against the law of physics and dynamics and everything rational."

"I don't know what you want me to say," he furrows his brow, genuinely bothered by the despair in her eyes, which is quite hard to see if he's being honest.

Caleb was right. They had each other. She had no one to walk her through this.

"I just want the truth."

He steps towards her and asks, "Are you going to run screaming through the street?"

When she shakes her head, he lets his eyes flash black as a pit of tar long enough for her to get a good look at them. And she does, right before she throws up at his feet.

Author's Note: Please let me know what you thought of this chapter. I would love some feedback. Thanks to the readers for keeping up with this story, and an even bigger than you to all those who have "followed" Runemaster, added to your favorites, and have taken the time to review! "Guest", I agree, I like slightly volatile relationships lol they add some spice to life. Also, anybody who enjoys Runemaster might want to check out my other story Moonspell :)