Hello, hello!

If you've been following my other Bart content or checking my profile page, this is the plot-bunny that's been running around in my head, causing all sorts of accidents, impromptu starring into space while in the middle of important conversations, etc., since... 2016? Sounds both right and ridiculous. But that's me! It's probably going to be ridiculously long, and boy, will I ever manage to finish it within the year? Stay tuned to find out!

Yes, it'll eventually be Bart/Nat. Not your cup of tea? Don't read. Offended by it? Don't read. Homophobic? Maybe you'll be cured.

Art credit to festivewind. You can find them on DeviantArt (art link: festivewind/art/Happy-Halloween-118625349)

Chapter One

rewrite an ending or two

Bartimaeus

I had been floating about back in the Other Place, blissfully not thinking, and finally at peace for what felt like ten seconds, when that familiar and uncomfortable tug settled in my core. My essence revolved snappily for another moment, hoping the magician on the other side would give up, choose someone else to do their dirty work. I felt the second call, nonetheless, and because there is nothing but pain awaiting after the third, I promptly left the comfort of my home.

I was too tired to come up with a mighty horned creature with crazy eyes and the works, so I opted for an ominous-looking black fog and added the acrid stench of brimstone to go with it (1). A glance at the pentacle underneath revealed surprisingly messy lines on a damaged white, tiled floor. Granted there was no mistake, but it was off-putting (to say the least) to find a poorly drawn pentacle upon being called. It was almost an insult.

(1) Listen, I may be weakened, but I do have a reputation to maintain. I wasn't about to explode into rainbows and flowers for this magician. I would very much rather inflict the Systemic Vise upon myself.

The unpractised lines looked somewhat familiar, but before I could put my finger on it, a surprised voice gasped. "It is you."

I turned two golden orbs upwards to find Kitty Jones starring somewhat wide-eyed at my fine self, looking almost the same as when I'd last seen her (2). She was wearing dark jeans, a navy-blue jumper and some apparently tired trainers too. I blinked. I doubted she could see any sort of emotion since I hadn't bothered with a face. Considering I didn't know how to react to this summons, it was probably for the best.

(2) Yes, I realise human memory is a tragedy in and of itself. Allow me: thin figure, with prematurely slumped spine and wrinkled skin, dreadfully fashioned dark hair, chopped up to an irregular bob clearly by unexperienced hands, with a few grey strands catching the sunlight coming through the window, tired eyes. Now, don't get me wrong. Kitty looked better than when I'd last seen her. The wrinkles were fading, and the grey hair was returning to its natural colour, but her appearance was just another indicator that not long ago I had been on Earth trying to save an ungrateful bunch, nearly dying in the process along with my master.

We were inside some sort of ruins. The ceiling had a large hole in the centre, and there were burnt counters, as well as an oven and a fridge in dire need of a holiday, a vase split in half in a corner, dirt bleeding out of it. The railings were all that was left to hint at the presence of curtains, and the walls were peeling off everywhere.

Kitty kept going, though, still wide-eyed, gesticulating excitedly as she spoke. "I thought you might be dead or…or still inside Nath—"

"Wow, that's some image you're painting," I finally said. Really, your first words to someone else should never be: "I thought you were still inside [insert name]". Oh decency, where have you gone?

Kitty's face comically exploded with colour, and I almost laughed at her embarrassment. It wasn't half-bad seeing someone as level-headed as Kitty lose their composure. Then she laughed a bit to relieve the tension—a stiff laugh, nonetheless—and stuffed her hands in her jumper's pocket.

"Anyway." A long sigh. "I'm glad to see you well, Bartimaeus."

"That's one way of putting it," I retorted, spiralling around the pentacle as if about to break free. "I'm still quite beat up, thank you very much. Also, I thought we'd talked about this whole pentacle business, the two of us. You know, when you first tried to summon me and some rude words were exchanged," I added, looking at her accusingly. Not that she could tell.

"Yes, well," she started, rubbing the back of her neck, "I know it's been just a few weeks, but I'm kind of desperate here. And I can't exactly call you without a pentacle, can I? Besides, we really need—"

"You can certainly not call at all. Don't tell me the English government can't handle a few loose hybrids. A couple of crashed buildings? Numerous fires? A bunch of casualties? Dear me, I thought I was dealing with the crème de la crème, but I guess I was wrong."

Kitty seemed to deflate a little as I pointed all of these out, and a part of me felt bad for it. A tiny part (3). She started to move her weight from one foot to the other, almost as if she were weighing her options physically rather than mentally.

(3) Kitty does have a special place in my metaphorical heart, rest assured, but I am still as peeved about being on Earth as I'll ever be. Besides, Kitty should know by now that she'd be getting this side of me. I'm still recovering.

"Well, this is silly," she decided, promptly stepping out of the pentacle. It took her a total of two steps before she reached the outer line of my circle. Then she gave me that knowing smirk of hers, hands on her hips and looking daringly up at me for good measure.

No matter how many times this happens—a human giving up their control over us, placing their trust in our hands—I am still caught by surprise. Ptolemy did it all the time, Kitty herself has been to the Other Place, but this was still new to her, and it has certainly been a long time for me. I immediately became Ptolemy to smile up at her. She grinned right back, teeth and all.

"That's more like it," she said with a nod.

I agree.

"Alright, we need to get moving. I'll explain on the way."

She was grabbing a grey backpack I hadn't noticed before when I said, "Are you just assuming I'm tagging along?"

Kitty turned back to look at me for a second, after which she said, "Yes." I sputtered, indignant, but all she did was grin and add, "Aren't you intrigued in the least?"

I considered her words for a moment. Was I intrigued by what had become of London after such a big fall? Was I intrigued to learn what mess Kitty was in that required my superior skills to solve?

"Yes," I said at last. "I am very intrigued by your choice of room, at the very least. But I'm even more intrigued to find out what it's like to rest for another century before an idiotic human summons me again. I need healing, both physically and mentally. A bunch of spirits just tried to ennact a revolution I personally dismantled, so, as you can guess, I'm not exactly popular back home. The least you could do is let me get some rest and maybe, maybe if whatever task you have for me is relevant in fifty years, we'll talk about it then."

I didn't get to go on, and Kitty didn't get to reply to that, because suddenly the door was being thrown open and there were two men pointing their daggers at Kitty's back and shouting something I barely made out, which was just plainly rude. Couldn't they tell we were in the middle of a civilised conversation?

I pushed Kitty out of the way before a dagger hit her in the chest, and we smashed against the counters. Kitty groaned. Before I decided on a spell with low impact, she flung her backpack open and threw a tiny Elemental Sphere right at their feet. The ground exploded with vines that grabbed their legs and arms, a gust of wind forced their weapons down. There were new cracks on the floor, and a small fire starting on the doorway.

And then came the water. The pipes burst right over our heads, sprinkling the four of us with dubious water. I heard the two burglars curse for a moment (4), but I had barely the time to feel annoyed at the strain the water was putting on my essence before I heard a window crash open to reveal another dynamic duo.

(4) Which is, again, so rude. Whatever happened to civilised Britishness?

"You don't happen to have another one of those handy Spheres on you, do you?"

"Afraid not."

Kitty and I backed away from the window, as the men were already trying to climb in, and I wouldn't put my money on those vines to hold out for long. I looked about me. Kitty pointed to the fridge. Clever girl. It was thrown unceremoniously in front of the window, leaving the duo no space to climb in. There was another window in the room, however, so before they regrouped, I changed into a familiar gargoyle. It grabbed Kitty and shot to the skies, breaking right through the ceiling (5).

(5) I didn't suppose there was a difference since someone else had taken the time to blast a big hole right next to the one I made. At least now barbecue days wouldn't make the kitchen stink.

When seen from above, London's destruction didn't necessarily surprise me. I didn't suppose it would either way, but being in the air gave it a more detached approach. I wasn't counting on anything else, however, since Kitty herself had pointed out that it hadn't been very long since I was last here. But it didn't seem that the damage had spread too far outside of the city centre. Westminster was ruined, as expected. I could tell that was where we were now that we were up in the air. The fires had been extinguished, but the smoke in the air hadn't dissipated completely. It came and went in waves as the wind shifted directions and hit my faux-stone nostrils.

"I think I finally understand why people complain about flying with you," Kitty rasped out.

I knew very well who she meant, but pretended I didn't. "Would you rather be back in that shoddy kitchen?" I asked in a sickly-sweet voice. The kind which would eventually result in a question about how you like your tea and would you care for a biscuit?

"…No."

So Kitty was still familiar with sarcasm. Good.

"Thought so."

She didn't say anything else, but I felt her grabbing my arm as if it were a lifeline on more than one occasion and I rolled my eyes with gusto, knowing very well she couldn't see it.

I kept moving northeast, away from the stench of the Thames and humid air around it. So I suppose I was following the line of destruction.

All things considered, London could have suffered a worse fate. Instead, what it got was a bunch of destroyed property and singe marks on numerous walls. Unclaimed, toppled cars were still visible, mirrors shining under the rare visit of the sun and making me squint. Lampposts had taken the brunt of it, having been bent at the oddest angles and tossed around as weapons. There was a particularly elaborate lamppost design stuck in a brown roof in Piccadilly. It sported quite the rude hand gesture that my modesty refrains me from describing.

As I entered Hyde Park, the air shifted. Not from the smoke, or the weather per se. It was charged, and I wondered if magic could still be permeating the air.

I took in the dead foliage down below as I passed the epicentre of the destruction. Upon flying over it, it was as if I had been shocked out of my state. The gargoyle swerved unnaturally to the right, earning a shriek from Kitty and I forced myself to slow down. Since this was just a good a place as any, I began my descent, circling down onto a patch of surviving grass by the Serpentine.

Kitty dusted herself off when I put her down and looked around, squinting and pursing her lips. "Of all the places to go in London, you come back here, huh?"

"Seeing as every house we passed seemed to be either in ruins or on its way, I felt it was safest to resort to nature."

Kitty gave me a look.

I ignored it.

"And now for your explanation?"

I found a comfortable spot, where the water didn't touch me and the grass wasn't dead, and sat down cross-legged in the comfortable guise of Ptolemy. Kitty hesitated, probably considering how humid the grass still was. She eventually followed my lead, dropping her backpack in her lap. It appeared she was struggling with words, so I let her be for a moment.

Kitty had mentioned a few weeks had passed, but that could mean as little as two and as many as six. Regardless, she might still be sorting through her feelings. Perhaps I shouldn't have brought her to the park, but I'd been distracted, following the path of destruction, searching for an area free of it.

I could easily pinpoint where everything had happened, but I would rather not. It was enough to be sitting down facing the spot where the Glass Palace had been standing ten seconds ago. My eyes were drawn to it like moths to a flame, but no matter how ardently I searched, there was nothing.

Kitty eventually cleared her throat, drawing my attention back to her. She was pulling at the grass, splitting the leaves in two until she was left with just the blade. Then she threw it wherever and resumed her antics.

"It's been a little crazy, as you can imagine," she started. Her movements didn't cease. "There's a new Interim Council made up of both commoners and magicians. Piper's basically become the Prime Minister overnight. But there's also a lot of resentment. A lot of houses were destroyed, so people took to stealing from abandoned houses and even…" She inhaled deeply before continuing. "…and even corpses. It's… macabre, but a way of surviving, I guess. Problem is some have become rather violent and territorial. There's even rumours of a rebellious group of sorts."

I hummed to let her know I was listening. By principle, I wanted nothing to do with this mess, but when the person asking was Kitty, there wasn't a lot I wouldn't do. "What about you?"

"Me?" Kitty scoffed a little, tossing a blade farther than usual. For the first time I could see how bitter this entire situation was making her. She was ignoring my eyes, frowning at a ghost. It was truly a pity. "I was supposed to have joined Jakob in Bruges by now, but I don't think that's ever going to happen at this rate."

I registered how my essence readied for the blow, but ignored it. "And why not?"

She sighed, glancing at me sadly for a moment before fixating her eyes on the horizon again. "Because of Nathaniel."

And there it was. The name. Kitty was inexperienced in this business, I knew, but seeing as she'd witnessed what happens when you utter a name charged with meaning in front of a superior entity, I wasn't expecting her to make the same mistake twice so soon. But I suppose I gave a human too much credit.

Forcing the string of memories and conflicted feelings attached to his name back to the far recesses of my mind, I let my gaze return to the ruined view ahead. Granted that Earth hardly ever soothed my essence in any way, but vast parks like this provided some respite to my allergic reaction to cities (6). Therefore, seeing the burnt down trees, scorched leaves and flowers' ashes had the opposite effect. I was quite restless.

(6) Urban spaces always make me feel wearier, mainly because I associate their grey landscape to most unpleasant things, like iron, silver, and magicians.

While contemplating this, I kept my silence. Perhaps it hung heavier than it should have, but you know me: I never add a comment just for the purpose of hearing my own voice, perfect as it is in all its variations. I rather prefer to only spare the words needed for efficient and meaningful conversation.

Besides, Kitty's grief was absolutely outside my areas of expertise (7), so I'd be the first to wave that white flag and gracefully bow down as the metaphorical curtain closed. Still, being the gracious djinni that I am, I patted Kitty's back awkwardly in hopes that it'd help, and said, "Look, Kitty, I have to concede that while my knowledge is vast in many areas, comfort is not one of them."

(7) Yes, plural. Not all of us are that limited.

Kitty smiled a little at that, and I was encouraged to proceed. "Listen, before he left, he asked me to say hello. I guess he knew you'd call, eh?"

She looked at me again, seemed to consider my words for a moment. Then she nodded slowly, and said, "I think it's time I tell you why I summoned you. Before we're interrupted again."

"Sounds about right."

I could almost hear the collective sigh of relief from the grass as Kitty snapped one last leaf in two and tossed the blade aside. She then made a great show of dusting off her hands and repeatedly run them over her thighs. The horizon held her attention for a few seconds more, and I nearly burst her bubble in order to move things along (8).

(8) What? I didn't have the time and, since comfort isn't my department, I'd figured we'd get to the point so that I could fulfil her request and then merrily go back home.

A few moments later, Kitty inhaled deeply and turned her gaze to mine, only to say, "Nathaniel is alive."

I blinked at her, having fully heard what she'd said, but not exactly computing the message. "Pardon?"

The corners of her lips twitched a little, but they were back to normal the next moment. "He's alive, Bartimaeus. Not doing very well, though…" She clicked her tongue as if to break herself free from her own treacherous mind. "But all things considered, it's a miracle. So I need your help. Well, Piper and I need your help." I registered the need for me to respond, but my essence refused the command. "London is dangerous these days. We never know when we can get attacked, or who is lurking in the shadows. So, having someone we trust to look after him for a few hours a day would put our minds at ease and—"

"Wait a second there, Kitty," I interrupted, palm up to physically stop her from rambling on if necessary. "What do you mean, that dimwit is alive? I vividly remember Nouda being upon us, and—there were a lot of teeth and tentacles, you know?—and he couldn't have survived that, could he? And if he'd actually managed to somehow blow Nouda off without getting crushed, the Palace was about to crumble down. I mean, that was the plan—to blow it up with Nouda inside, so that he had no chance of escaping or surviving. And even if that weren't enough, that wound on his side would have taken care of it for him soon enough. Well, I realise that medical attention nowadays is much better than—doesn't matter. Now you're telling me all of that wasn't enough to kill one feeble, annoying human being?"

Kitty stayed in stunned silence for a moment or two, and then she inhaled and said, "Well, you just about summed it all up, yes."

I'm sure I was eyeing her as if she had grown a second head—which she might as well have, if my day were to be about dealing only with ridiculous things. I scanned her face for a sign of mockery or, you know, to check if she wasn't simply barking mad at this point, but I found nothing alarming (9).

(9) At least no more than usual. That dry skin is going to be giving her a lot of problems by the time she reaches thirty.

"I'm not deluded, Bartimaeus," she said as if she'd read my mind.

I've heard many tales of women having a sort of special power called intuition that they use to terrorise the opposite sex, but I'd always chalked it up to the hogwash that is human society's insistence on binary ideals. However, as Kitty's glare didn't dwindle for another moment, I must say I almost believed it. But then again, Kitty is a scary specimen. Maybe her gender is 'scary, sceptical person who enjoys traumatising poor djinn'. Go ahead and ask a scientist.

"Nathaniel is in a hospital bed, comatose, not dead… or not for now, at least," she proceeded. "And I summoned you because there is no one else I can trust."

"Of course not," I automatically retorted, but I regret to inform that there was no bite to it. That bastard wasn't dead. After all of that he was going to go down in history as a hero who had saved everyone, including his djinni, and I would be the traitor. Brilliant. This was just like him. I bet he survived just so he could spite me and rub it in my face.

"Bartimaeus?"

I snapped out of it. "How?"

Kitty furrowed her eyebrows, probably wondering why that was important, but also seemingly concerned. She could be sweet, Kitty. I already knew that she could be a fiercely loyal friend, and also just plain fierce, so to see sweet was always a small surprise for me.

"How he survived?" she asked. I nodded. "Well, we aren't sure, but when we found him there was nothing on top of him. In fact, both the fire and the rubble seemed to have kept a certain distance. There was an invisible force of sorts around him, sort of like a dome, and the Staff was broken. We checked for magic, but all of it was gone. Piper says it could have been a Shield, but can't explain how it happened."

I considered this for a moment. It did sound like a Shield, but I certainly don't remember casting one around us before leaving, and there was no one there besides Nouda, who most certainly wouldn't be trying to cast a Shield around his food.

Kitty hasn't stopped talking since she dropped this bomb on me, though. "…so I was hoping you could keep Nathaniel company—just for a couple hours a day," she quickly added, clearly expecting me to flat-out refuse her. "We can't always stay there ourselves and there isn't really anyone else we'd trust. And I realise I'm not asking for something easy, especially not after all of this, but I wouldn't ask if I could do it all myself."

The thing is I believed every word she was saying—Kitty wasn't the type to unload what she viewed as her responsibility onto someone else. However, I was still too stunned about all of this newfound information to let the reality of her request truly sink in, and I am not happy to report that it took me a moment to fully realise the implications of what she was asking me to do.

It was still blind trust, despite everything else. She had no way of knowing that I wouldn't try to harm him. As far as she knew, he and I didn't get along well. And as far as she knew, I hadn't killed him simply because it would inconvenience me. Which is nothing but the truth. Or used to be. Things had got foggy somewhere between the frog incident and saving the world together.

"So, let me see if I'm getting this straight. You want me to guard him while you and Piper can't, because you trust I won't harm him? You do realise who you're talking to here, right? What gives you the idea I won't be the first in line to decimate Mandrake? I was his 'demon'—" yes, I included air quotes, "—for years. We aren't exactly the best of pals."

Kitty looked at me as if in that moment I was the one growing a second head. I checked. False alarm. One head only on all seven planes (10). "Bartimaeus, he dismissed you right before you both were killed. Besides, ever since I told you he's alive, you haven't moved from the spot. In fact, I think I just witnessed you having a small meltdown for the first time." I sputtered in Ancient Greek and she was back to grinning. Her eyes softened a bit afterwards. "He clearly thinks highly of you, and I don't think you hate him either."

(10) Yes, on all seven. There's a hint for you.

"Please don't go about picturing us two as best pals doing whatever it is that you kids do these days with your best pals. That's just wrong and offensive."

Kitty heartily laughed at the image. "Don't be such an old grump, Bartimaeus. We're all alive for now, and that's what matters."

I don't think Kitty did it on purpose—it is, in fact, highly unlikely that she would be thinking on the same lines as me—but with those words she had me go back more than two millennia in time, back to Alexandria, back to that shoddy hideout with Ptolemy helplessly bleeding out in front of my eyes and a group of blood-thirsty assassins outside, just about to finish their business. And she got me to think of Ptolemy—clever, kind, warm Ptolemy, who had dedicated his life to research, who had created the very pentacle Kitty had used to find me in the Other Place to get me to become a traitor. And then I thought of the annoying prat, hanging on for dear life in a hospital bed, after everything he'd been through.

Now, I reckon I'm not a big believer in Fate and the works, but if I was being told something, if I was being gifted something, then I could only think that Fate had a damn idiotic way of doing it, because no way in hell would him surviving ever make Ptolemy's death the tiniest bit acceptable.

Now's the time when I give my many thanks to my dearest beta, anjumstar, who besides putting up with all my mistakes and idiocy and providing part of the summary for this story ('cause I forgot you need one) virtually also let me annoy her for an entire week in January. So, obviously I had to let her kick my butt countless times on Super Smash Bros. It was only fair.