Yes! I'm back in the game!

Okay, so there's alcohol in this chapter. A lot of alcohol. (And very, very heavily implied drunk Sexter in the background, for all you Dexacen lovers out there *waggles eyebrows*)

LionsandTrolls: Where the fuck have you been?! Okay, I'm calm. But seriously, it's good to read your words again, and thanks for understanding. Writer's block is a bitch. I've... read all the chapters, but I may have missed the cameo. I'll have another look.

Haha, I have you trapped on this ship! You shan't leave!

Oooh! Cookie! Gimme more, and I'll consider it. (just kidding, of course I forgive you!)

*blushes* Wow, thanks. I do try to make them as unique as possible. Umm... Fanfiction deleted the link... Just send me your username, I have an account on there, too. :)

Okay, onwards!

Chapter 27 – Drunken Celebrations

It was a rare occasion when Erskine managed to get so drunk he nigh on forgot how to walk in a straight line. His impressive, centuries-old tolerance of alcohol often prevented such an occurrence, but it wasn't impossible for him to get himself well and truly hammered.

The Edgely family Christmas reunion was one such occasion. Being surrounded by drunken mortals who were constantly offering him drinks that he was too polite to refuse, he got outstandingly tipsy in what must have been record time. It wasn't long before his tense shoulders and his strained, nerve-wracked conversations became slurred and more easy-going as the worry brought on by the presence of so many loud drunks faded.

From the corner of the room, Skulduggery was watching with an attentive eye, making sure nothing out of the ordinary happened. He was glad that Erskine was enjoying himself, despite the copious amounts of alcohol involved. He noticed Saracen and Dexter sharing a passionate kiss by the door, and Clarity was being corralled into a contest against Fergus Edgely as to how many shots of liqour they could down in a minute. A smirk teased the edge of Skulduggery's lips. Not only did Clarity have an inhumanly fast metabolism that prevented them from getting drunk no matter how much they drank, but they could hold it down, too. That, and Fergus was already very heavily intoxicated. The man was walking right into the jaws of defeat.

Managing to nurse only one can of shandy throughout most of the night, Skulduggery was still very sober when Erskine stumbled over to him and more or less fell into his arms. The smaller mage was blushing nervously, and there was a smear of purple lipstick on his cheek.

"Phoenix," he mumbled, burying his face into Skulduggery's shoulder and clinging to him in desperation. "Beryl's tryin'a kiss me."

At this, Vile snarled jealously, but Skulduggery blocked him out.

"Ersie, she's probably drunk," Skulduggery explained, gently kissing Erskine's forehead and wiping away the purple stain on his face. "Don't worry, I'll make sure she doesn't try to kiss you again."

"Thank you."

Half an hour before the party reached its end, Skulduggery found himself slow dancing around the room with a surprisingly steady-footed Erskine. He'd managed to keep the gold-eyed man away from drinking any more alcohol, meaning he was no longer as inhibited by drunkenness as before. 'The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face' was playing, probably because someone had gotten so drunk they forgot which holiday they were meant to be celebrating. Fergus Edgely was passed out by the snack table whilst Clarity stood to the side, sipping from a flute of champagne. Off to the side, Valkyrie was conversing with the reflection that had taken the place of her cousin Carol. The skinnier twin was absent; she'd never shown up to the party; and the bottle blonde reflection had seemed… agitated by it. Saracen and Dexter had left the party a while ago, stumbling and bearing heavy blushes on their faces. Chances were, they'd wake up with no clothes and really painful hangovers.

"Look at them," Erskine murmured, his words so quiet that Skulduggery almost didn't hear him. Looking down, he saw that his boyfriend's eyes were focused on the mortals around them.

"What about them?"

Erskine's face screwed up with regret, and he pressed his face into the crook of Skulduggery's neck. "They're all so happy," he whined. "They've got no idea that there's… I don't know… ten… I think it's ten… magical folk amongst them at this very moment, and they probably pass by at least a dozen more every day when they're just… living their lives. And they have no freaking idea, and they're so happy and ignorant."

"And? I feel an 'and' coming up, there."

"And I wanted to take that away from them," Erskine lamented, pulling away and wringing his hands together, the flicking movements of his fingers indicating that he was considering lighting a spark. "And I… I still want to take it away."

Concern washed over Skulduggery, and he cupped his own hands over his lover's. "What are you trying to say?"

It was pain that revealed itself on Erskine's face. "I haven't changed at all since… since…"

Skulduggery quickly moved in to console him, unable to stand even the slightest inkling of tears. "Hey, it's okay," he crooned, bringing Erskine's hands to his chest and gently resting his forehead against the other's. "Ersie, look at me. Can you do that for me? Looking me in the eye? Please."

"My eyes…"

"Are gorgeous; I wouldn't change them for the world. There is no need to be ashamed of them."

With some hesitation, Erskine raised his eyes to meet Skulduggery's, and the latter shot him a reassuring smile in an effort to calm him.

"Thank you. Now, I hope you remember this when you sober up, because I doubt I'll be able to pull this speech off twice. You have changed since… since then, and that's honestly quite the feat for someone like us. Yes, you say you still want to show these people who we are, but something tells me it's for a different reason to the ones you had before. Am I correct?"

"I'm tired of hiding," Erskine mumbled, a frown settling on his features. "I feel opressed. Helpless."

He snapped his fingers, summoning the barest of flames. A flash of panic raced through Skulduggery's body, but a quick glance around the room told him that no mortals had noticed, and that everyone was likely too drunk to remember, even if they did notice.

"I get that feeling, too," Skulduggery whispered, gently cupping his hands over the flame; feeling its warmth against his palms. "And we're not the only oes."

"I showed you that, didn't I?"

"… You did…"

"I'm sorry," was the nearly inaudible whimper that escaped Erskine's lips. "I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought… I thought I would be helping them. But none of them are ready for us. Not yet, and it'll probably be… centuries… before they'll ever be. And I tried pushing them straight into the deep end."

"True, but you've repented for it," Skulduggery continued, still concealing the flame in Erskine's palm. It was flickering; the light dimming and struggling to shine through the miniscule gaps between his fingers. "You have changed. You don't want power, you don't want control or supremacy. You just want to stop hiding; you want to feel safe. There is nothing wrong with wanting something like that." Slowly, he retreated his hands from the flame, leaving it open to discovery. It no longer flickered, and managed to keep burning brightly.

Eventually, Erskine snuffed it out. "Inevitable," he muttered, his thoughts clearly elsewhere by now. "No matter how hard you try to put it off, it's inevitable."

With a small sigh, Skulduggery wrapped an arm around Erskine's shoulders and gently guided him out of the room. "Let's get to bed," he murmured. "You're drunk, I'm tired, and it's obvious that you'll be waking up with a headache and the urge to empty your stomach in the morning."

"Okay."

Massive symbolism in this chapter. Cake and cookies to the person who gets it and writes a review explaining it the most accurately. Also, I might write a little Sexter oneshot about the morning after this party, if you know what I mean. Angst, denial and hangovers galore!