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If Michael said that he’d never grieved before, he’d be lying, but saying he’d felt grief before his sister/mom/best friend’s funeral also felt like a lie. Somehow even worse than that was the fact that Michael had not seen Lacey’s body. It was her dying wish, evidently. So it felt like a lie that she was dead even though he’d seen the Skinwalker possess her, had seen the bloodstained blanket she was laid to rest under- That he was looking at the closed casket. It didn’t change the fact that no part of the past month felt real.

The adults- Well, the people who had been adults longer than him- kept Michael in the dark, presumably for the best. He caught snippets. That they called it a freak accident, had the authorities recover Lacey’s body. Aimee had pulled strings and talked to the friends she’d made over the years, and then they were in Maryland, on the outskirts of Baltimore on some widower’s estate. Michael had seen the guy- Isaiah- Once, and he was most definitely older than dirt.

Michael didn’t talk much, though nobody really did. Aimee had stopped directing everyone, rarely pressing them to train. Most of the group avoided them like the plague and she stayed away in return. Most of the messages she sent to the group chat were about what time meals were when ordered food and packages arrived, and occasionally “who’s day was it to do laundry?”

He only saw Lancelot and Guinevere at lunch and dinner, and usually, it was only one of them getting food for the both of them. He couldn’t really fault the couple for keeping to themselves. December hadn’t spoken a single word to him since they told him the news on the side of the highway when Lacey died. Since then, they were more interested in getting high on the roof and cleaning every inch of the mansion. Freya threw herself into setting up the medical supplies, and Victor threw himself into helping, though Michael knew his “helping” consisted more of him comforting his crying wife.

Noel, who Michael didn’t know all that well, spent every waking moment of her day on the lowest level of the house, tending to the animals even though most of the tending just required her to keep the dogs busy and get people’s shoes out of Runt’s mouth. Dinadan talked less, too. He spent more time playing the guitar Michael had lost his touch for and writing music that he played at night when no one could hear. His seizures were worse too, due to the stress, which gave Michael his outlet of caring for his friend’s declining health.

And Dinadan was still his best friend, possibly for all eternity, because Michael hadn’t had a chance to ask him out after the FBI stuck its head up Haven’s ass, and now that Lacey was gone…He just didn’t know how it was appropriate.

The funeral wasn’t as traumatizing as Michael was thinking it would be. Lacey’s coffin had been set up out in Isiah’s garden, and everyone kind of just stood there, too high, anxious, distressed or all of the above to sit. December- who knew Lacey better than she knew herself- had designed a meticulous playlist. It started with Lacey’s favorite songs as they all made their way up to say goodbye.

Michael never thought he’d talk to his mom for the last time while Alice Cooper’s one-hit-wonder ‘Poison” played,but here he was.

“I struggle to believe that you’re dead. You were always there for me when I needed you. You managed to be my mom, my big sister and my best friend all at the same time, and I never once saw you so much as yawn even though you had to be run completely ragged. I don’t know how to say goodbye to you, because I never thought I’d have to do it…so, I don’t know what gods took you into their pantheon. I don’t know if you’re in the underworld, or paradise or an inbetween realm, but you for sure aren’t a ghost because nobody can feel your presence. So wherever you ended up, I hope you don’t have to work day in and day out. I hope you get to sit around doing nothing and listen to music all day. I hope you can drive as fast as you want in your dream car and never worry about getting pulled over. I hope you don’t miss us….We’re all doing enough missing over you. Rest in peace, mama. Don’t wait on us okay, we’re going to make your sacrifice worth it”. He whispered to the closed coffin. He wanted to open it, see if his sister was really in there, but the fear of what he might see kept him from doing so.

He remembered how that monster’s claws had torn gaping holes into her skin, how she had hit the ground as soon as she tripped it. How no part of her body seemed to know how to work when she was possessed, how blood ran down her from head to toe, how her veins were exposed in her chest. December had dragged him away before he could see anything more, but he had heard screams all the way to the car.

Dinadan gripped his hand when he sat down. He tended to do that when Michael was visibly upset. Like he wanted to hug him but he didn’t want to freak him out. Michael put his head on his shoulder. The track changed. December had compiled a playlist of songs that described how they all felt about loosing her. It started with her dad’s choice of a gut wrenching symphony song, to her mother’s choice of slipped away by Avril Lavine. Freya’s choice was a country song called you should be here, and Victor’s was Daughtry’s gone too soon. Aimee had another classical song played, and Dinadan had selected MCR’s Helena. His music taste was still developing, yet it was the perfect choice.

Michael’s sister and crush had a bromance unlike any other he’d seen. The song Michael picked out had his feelings in the title. How do I say goodbye? Because he didn’t know how to do just that…Say goodbye. December’s song was the last, forcing everyone into tears. “You said you’d grow old with me”.

Throwing a handful of dirt and a rose into the grave that would soon hold his sister left Michael with no tears to cry. Finally burying Lacey, laying her to rest, didn’t make him or anyone else feel less empty. The emotionless expression on December’s face, and Guinevere and Lancelot’s wailing was going to haunt him for a long time. December let everyone spread out for some time, grieving as privately or publicly as they felt for awhile before they tapped on a wine glass to get everyone’s attention.

“Seeing as none of us can talk about Lacey without crying, Isaiah has graciously offered to read her will for us if everyone would group back up”. They said. Michael was thinking that the will reading would be quick. He’d been there when she wrote it at the kitchen table when he was thirteen or fourteen, and it was only about half a page long, but the typed document Isiah held in his old, withered hands was at least two pages long. He

really

looked like John Hammond. Not the original, but the version in Jurassic Park Fallen Kingdom.

Weirdly specific, but also accurate.

This is the last will and testament of myself Magnolia Lacey Andrews. All my wishes for after my passing are detailed below. I was not and never have been religious. I don’t want my funeral to be full of prayers and crosses. Get drunk, blast metallica or somehting and have fun. It’s what I want for my friends and family.

Secondly, I don’t want to do damage to the planet, so please bury me in a wood coffin so that my body will become part of the soil and help plants grow. No matter how i come to pass, please no open caskets. I don’t want anyone’s last memory of me to be my gross dead face looking at the sky.

I leave all my finances and worldy possesions to my partner, December Davis Davidson to do with as they please. These are all the passwords and information that they will need to access my bank accounts and renter information.

Isaiah didn’t finish that paragraph.

I leave all the money in my savings account- and retirement fund if I’ve set one up by now, to my brother Michael Lucas Andrews to do with as he pleases. He has a separate bank account for when he goes to college containing fifty thousand dollars at the time of my writing this. Do not give him access until his eighteenth birthday. He is also permitted possession of my car, as well as possession of any of my personal items he wants to hold onto.

I never thought I’d add on to my will, but here I am. It’s not really a gut feeling that something’s going to happen, but Haven is without a shadow of a doubt dangerous work. I’d rather be safe than sorry when it comes to wrapping up my affairs. Michael and December know better than everyone else how much I hate leaving loose ends lying around.

Everything stated above still stands for my son and fiance. What is left to them will not be debated, or so help me, I will haunt all of you. I would like to grant legal gaurdianship of Michael over to my parents. He’s an adult, but on paper, I want them listed as his grandparents and emergency contacts. They may also take what worldly possessions of mine are left.

To Dinadan, my trainer and someone I see as a second child, I leave Dues Interfectorum. I don’t know if I’m supposed to use somekind of fancy jargon into appeasing the gods into letting you weild it, but there you go. I know it seems like a big responsibility, but I know you better than you think I do, and I know you can handle this responsibility better than anyone else.

I don’t really have anything to leave the rest of you, so I leave you with my gratitude, which I don’t give to most people…Thank you Aimee for giving me the opportunity to be part of my family’s lives. Thank you to the Thompsons for making me feel like part of the family. Thank you to Noel for teaching me how to be a better resource for Haven, and honestly a better person.

In the front zipper pocket of the emergency bag is a yellow folder containing nine letters addressed to each one of you. You are free to read them and do what you will afterwards.

Fair thee well,

Magnolia Lacey Du Lac.

Michael was a little surprised. He knew that Lacey was planning on changing the family last name, but he didn’t know she’d actually gone and done it. If her last name was now Du Lac, given that her parents were planning on marrying soon, and already legally changed, then it was Michael’s. That was a predicament he never thought he’d find himself in, not knowing his own last name.

December didn’t pass out the letters written by Lacey until long after everyone had ate and retired to bed. It was Dinadan who answered the door and came back in with two letters. They didn’t actually share a room, but they often slept in the same one. The company was nice, and between Dinadan’s seizures and Michael’s sudden nightmares, being in the same room was safer for the both of them. Dinadan sat in the chair in the corner of the room and looked at the envelope for a moment before setting it aside and going back to his sheet music.

Michael had to take a deep breath before he opened it. A pack of skittles, his longtime favorite candy- fell out. The sloppy handwriting scrawled in blue ink on wrinkled notebook paper was a lot more like the girl who raised him.

Dear Michael,

I’m sorry I left. I know it’s hard on you, but I want you to know that I’m watching over you. It doesn’t matter where I am, I’m there. I know you don’t feel like you can handle the world all by yourself, but you are the most capable person I’ve ever met, not to mention that December and my parents would lay their lives down for you. This is my final message to you. Be strong. Be strong, be yourself and do not conform to anyone else no matter what.

(And for the love of all things holy, ask Dinadan out),

Love, Lacey.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Lily of The Valley flowers were incredibly hard to come by in Maryland in January. But Michael did it, somehow. He was surprised. For being that hard to come by, the dozen flowers had only cost him seven dollars. It would have been eight dollars, but one of the flowers was fake because when the time came for him to say something, Michael was planning to pull the, ‘I’ll love you until the last of those flowers dies’ card. He still didn’t feel right, his sister had been gone four months, and everyone was finally done grieving, or close to it.

But if that was what she wanted him to do, he would. Michael wrapped the bundle in a purple ribbon, matching it to his jewelry as well. He didn’t want it to be obvious to Dinadan that he was wearing his favorite color. Keeping it subtle rather than shoving it in the man’s face. Michael wandered around Isiah’s estate carrying flowers and looking stupid for a good thirty minutes before he finally found Dinadan on the third floor sitting at the piano.

He could play like a professional even though pianos hadn’t been a thing in his time. According to Guinevere, who was apparently his adoptive aunt-or-grandmother-just-take-your-pick-gods-he-haded-being-adopted, Dinadan could play any instrument with little to no practice. Michael didn’t announce his presence, instead choosing to watch his friend play. Even when Dinadan was just plucking strings or messing around with the keys, the music was still beautiful, Michael didn’t expect him to play a real song, given that he only wrote music for flute and guitar, but he assumed someone as talented with instruments as Dinadan was bound to be able to play by ear.

He started to play ‘Iris’, one of Michael’s favorite songs. He had no doubt learned it from the numerous car rides they had been going on together for the sake of just getting out of there.

“When everything’s made to be broken, I just want you to know who I am”, Michael sang along to announce his presence. Dinadan’s hands faltered on the keys, spilling the music into dissonance. He turned around, giving Michael his sweet, lopsided smile. He rarely showed his teeth when he smiled, like he was insecure. He had pretty white teeth for someone from the dark ages, but they were crooked.

“Hello, Michael”, he said. He looked a lot more like himself now that he didn’t wear as many borrowed clothes. Aimee had dragged the poor kid to the mall after the Council approved him to have permanent residency in the twenty-first century. Dinadan Le Noir was now Daniel Alexander Greene born on October eighth, 2005. He seemed to graduate to looking like he was frozen in the early two thousand. He often wore black long sleeves under miscellaneous t-shirts tucked into black jeans secured by a studded belt. If he wore shoes, it was always the converse December gave him, and he wore his thick red hair in a loose ponytail or a bun.

Michael highly doubted he’d ever admit it out loud, but he thought Dinadan was pretty, even for a guy.

“Hey, nice song”, he said, keeping the flowers concealed behind his back. He walked over, laying his hand on his friend’s shoulder. He was less scrawny now that he’d adjusted to the new times. He could eat things other than lettuce and bread.

“You play it out of your…oh, what’s the music box in your car called again?” he asked. Sometimes he forgot how to say things in English or muddled words around. He often got frustrated by it, but Michael thought it was a little adorable. DInadan’s English was far better than his Welsh. He’d been learning for the sake of saying something to him in his native language, but it was so very difficult.

“Radio, yeah, it’s my favorite song. Anyway, I bought these for you”, he said, presenting the bouquet of flowers. Dinadan’s grey eyes widened in surprise and joy as he reached for the flowers. He smiled up at Michael, his eyes trailing up to the purple diamonds in his ears and face. Finding eleven earrings of that color was hard. The only thing he hadn’t been able to change out was his nose ring because it was fresh, and he was a little scared of what would be on it.

“You use piercings as a coping mechanism”, December had told him. The joke was on them, he hadn’t gotten any since Lacey died, and he hadn’t really needed to cope with anything before that.

“How did you know these were my favorite flowers?” Dinadan asked, a faint smile still tugging at the corners of his lips. Michael grinned and hoped he seemed nonchalant about what he was saying.

“Heard it through the grapevine. Anyway, I’ve got a question”, he said. Dinadan’s eyes met his once more. They were already big, but they had a near cartoonish quality to them when he lined them with eye shadow. Michael’s sister, Lancelot, and Freya were the only ones who didn’t use at least a little makeup for self-expression.

“OKay then…” Dinadan responded. He didn’t seem to understand the figure of speech, but like many things, he didn’t bother questioning it. Dinadan was smart, but he still had a lot to learn, not to mention the fact that Freya had pegged him with an autism spectrum disorder the very first time he talked to her. Michael wondered if any of them were normal. Victor, December, Dinadan, and Aimee all had some form of autism. Michael, Lacey, Freya, and Guinevere had ADHD. Noel had anxiety and depression. No one really knew what Lancelot had, but he was definitely mentally ill.

“Do you want to go out with me?” Michael asked and immediately slapped himself for it.

Smooth one, dumbass.

He told himself, a mix of Lacey’s voice and his own internal monologue. Sometimes, the voice in Michael’s head sounded a lot like his mom. It had been that way even before she passed. Like she had eyes in the back of her head and was prepared to critique his every move.

“Go out where?” Dinadan asked, breaking eye contact in favor of staring at Michael’s ear. Even though the glance was brief, Micheal still felt a little honored by it. Dinadan didn’t really look at people, so when he held eye contact with Michael like that, he felt really special.

“Like, on a date. I don’t know, to a nice restaurant, or something like that. Just the two of us spending time together. If you’d like to?” Michael said. He was nervous, knowing how Aimee was and the bits and pieces of the past Dinadan let escape. The last thing he wanted to do was make Dinadan feel like he was being forced to go with him.

“Are…Are you asking if you can court me?” Dinadan asked. Michael had to wrack his brain for a moment to recall what the hell courting was.

“Uh…yeah. I guess I am”< he said. He unconsciously reached behind his head, scratching the back of his neck. Dinadan’s face was turning red, either in embarrassment or excitement. Maybe a little bit of both. He ducked his head down, fidgeting a little on the piano bench.

“I’d like to court you as well, Michael”, he said. Michael felt himself smile and cleared his throat. He patted Dinadan’s shoulder and stepped back a little.

“Great, how about we leave tomorrow night around six- Go find a diner down in the city?” Michael offered. The metro traffic and such wasn’t all that different, but hell. He’d thought people in D.C. couldn’t drive…Baltimore made everyone in the capital look like picture-perfect drivers.

“Okay”, Dinadan said.

Michael made a beeline for the end of the hall on the second floor of Isiah’s home as soon as he was out of Dinadan’s sight. Apparently, Isaiah had worked for Haven under Aimee from 1946 to 1961. He’d stayed close with her, and had built his estate and wealth with what he’d gained from Haven. He didn’t talk much, but he was a pretty cool guy in Michael’s opinion.

He knocked on the door to Lancelot and Guinevere’s room. They were bound to know about courting in that time, and it would probably do all three of them good to get their minds off of Lacey’s death. He was expecting a sobbing festival when the door creaked open, but it seemed so normal. Their room was neat and tidy, sunlight streaming in through the windows. Their bed was made, and Lancelot was visible on the left wall, scrubbing at the window with a rag. Guinevere didn’t look like she’d been crying at all, she seemed like she’d been laughing.

“I did it”, he said to his aunt. Even though they were his grandparents on paper, he couldn’t see them as such, so he defaulted to Aunt Guin and Uncle Lance. They didn’t seem to mind and everyone who heard him call them that seemed to go with it. She cocked her eyebrow up.

“Did what, Michael? You can come in, we haven’t cleaned with bleach yet”, she told him. Michael gave her a grateful smile and stepped inside after kicking his shoes off. His shoes weren’t dirty, they were pretty new, but it still felt disrespectful to stand on their carpet after they’d clearly been cleaning all morning.

“I asked Dinadan to go on a date with me tomorrow”. He said. Lancelot threw the rag down and jumped up and down a few times, pumping his fist in the air.

“Finally! I thought you’d never do it!” he shouted, running up and grabbing him by the shoulders, shaking him a bit. Michael backed up a little.

“

Anyway,

he asked if I meant that I wanted to court him, I said yes, and he said he wanted to court me too…But I don’t really know how to court someone because I have a sneaking suspicion that it’s a lot different than dating”. Michael said. The pair shared a look, faint smiles tugging at the corners of their mouths.

“In the simplest of terms, dating is fun fling stuff, and courtship is about commitment and accountability. The two of us aren’t as good examples as you think we are. Even though we had explicit consent from my husband to be together, Lance and I still had to keep our relationship a secret”, Guinevere answered him. Michael nodded. He couldn’t say he one hundred percent understood it. But it clarified things a little more.

“Okay, but what does that mean?” Michael asked. Lancelot came up, standing behind his wife. It was hard to look at both of them. Guinevere look exactly like Lacey, from build to hair length to face. Even their voices were similar. His mother had Lancelot’s eyes and hair color. He held himself the same way she did, had the same mannerisms and the same ‘i’m going to wreck your life’ glare. Everything they said and did remind him of his sister. He hadn’t been able to handle being in the same room as them for the first week after Lacey was killed.

“It means you commit to whatever your relationship with him becomes. You express that you love him and take care of him. Let him do the same. To express that he cares and commits to you. Courting is truly, fully loving one another for who they are. Dating is more of an ‘I like you, you like me, let’s see where this goes’ thing”, Lancelot explained. Michael nodded.

“That won’t be an issue”, he responded. The couple shared a look once again. Michael figured it was a relationship thing. That they were just close enough to their person that they knew what they were thinking.

“You truly love Dinadan”? His aunt asked.

“I think I love him more than life itself”.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Michael had never been a fan of button-up shirts. But he was taking his…Hell, he didn’t know what to call Dinadan, to a nice restaurant. So he sucked it up and snagged one from Victor with little to no explanation. Between being a German soldier during Hitler’s reign, a male Dryad, and one step away from a mad scientist, Victor was the last person to judge or question anyone about anything they were doing. ‘Shady’ wasn’t the right word to describe Victor, but he was the type of person to have a lot of secrets. The fabric was scratchy, the collar tight on his neck. Michael secured his black jeans with a plain belt, even though he didn’t really need one, slicking his hair back. He looked like a bartender from 1931.

Michael checked that he had his keys, phone, and wallet, the three things he tended to forget most often. He made his way to the third floor and knocked on DInadan’s door. It was hard to pretend not to be anxious. Rory lifted her head from where she lay outside his door before she decided Michael wasn’t worth interrupting her nap for. The tan-brown American Bully had been doing that lately. She’d pick a person to be closely attached to and follow around for a few days. While she was friendly, she’d never done that before. Rory usually went up to people when she wanted to be fed or petted. Cooper didn’t mind the attention, but he stuck close to Aimee given that he was her dog. Dick never sought out people, but he accepted the attention. Spike was the one that didn’t like people. He didn’t bite, but he’d growl.

Michael felt his face heat up when the door was swung open. Dinadan had his hair down. It had grown, nearly down to the bottom of his ribcage. He was dressed in all black except for the red sweater he wore partially tucked in. It suited him.

“Ready to go?” he asked. His voice came out a little high-pitched Dinadan didn’t seem to notice, smiling at him. Michael couldn’t get over it. The knight had been glued to his side since nearly day one and had given up nearly everything he knew to stay with Michael.  Dinadan was almost always at Michael’s side, shooting Aimee looks that could kill whenever she tried to get a nab at Michael. And when he rambled about bones and ancient history, unlike everyone else telling him to shut up, Dinadan looked at Michael like he hung the stars in the sky.

“Yes”, he said. Michael offered his arm without even thinking about it. He heard DInadan chuckle a little, but his thin, nimble fingers soon grasped Michael’s bicep.

“Shouldn’t you be holding my arm?” he asked. Michael glanced at him, equally confused.

“Uh…I don’t know. I offered you my arm because I’m taking you on a date and am trying to dramatize it.” he said. It was the best explanation he could offer. Dinadan was terrible with social cues and formalities. That wasn’t something coming from being dragged into a new time period, either. It was just how he was.

“Oh, well, you heavily outrank me. I’m still a knight in theory, but you’re royalty. Generally, that would mean I’d act as your escort. I’m not saying that should still be a thing. The world has come a long way, and it would do everyone well for things to keep moving forward, I’m just trying to offer an explanation”, he rambled. Michael slid out from his grasp to hold the door open. Cannibal had finally stopped hissing at him. He’d graduated to getting a side-eye from the Wyvern instead. Michael considered that an accomplishment given that he snapped at everyone else.

“That makes sense, but I’m confused as to how I’m royalty,” Michael said. He knew his family history, which was to say absolutely nothing. His birth certificate read ‘father unknown’. His mother’s name was Halima Amani Jaziri, an immigrant from Israel who died in childbirth. Michael was put into foster care when he was two days old, and officially adopted by Kathrine and George Andrews when he was five months old. He was raised by his adopted sister, Lacey who became like a mother to him. Lacey took custody of him when he was three, and she raised him ever since. There was no trace of royalty in that background.

“Lancelot and Guinevere are royalty, even though they aren’t married. Guinevere was married into the Pendragon line, though she was nobility even before that. Lancelot was the king of France, even though he likes to pretend scholars made that up. Lacey is their heir, and she raised you as if you were family. So even though you are not blood-related, you are the Prince of their phantom kingdom”. He explained. Michael nodded. It made sense until the very last thing he said. He made sure to turn the radio volume down before starting his car.

Even though it had been left to him, Michael couldn’t bring himself to drive Lacey’s car. Not with it smelling like her, not with her textbooks in the trunk. Not with the claw marks marring the bright red paint.

He still hadn’t replaced his tires.

“What’s a phantom kingdom?” Michael asked. Dinadan was staring out the window. He could drive on the back roads, but he couldn’t drive in the more populated areas. There were too many distractions, and he was still adjusting to the future. Every time Michael drove anywhere with him, he stared out the window at all the other cars and the buildings.

“A kingdom, or place or even country that exists in the heart and mind as a promise rather than  a physical location. Camelot and Babylon are good examples, despite the fact that they were real locations. Camelot represents a better tomorrow, and Babylon represents the failures of mankind”. Dinadan explained. Michael nodded. He wasn’t entirely sure he got it, but it was better than trying to listen to it in even more extensive detail. Michael wouldn’t be able to make himself pay attention through that.

Baltimore sucked to drive in, sucked in terms of sports, and just altogether sucked. However, they had plenty of really good restraunts that were rarely crowded for favor of cheaper fast food. Michael wouldn’t have minded taking him somewhere like that, but there were still a lot of foods Dinadan couldn’t eat even though he was adjusting. Greasy, salty foods were off limits, and he also had a distaste for fatty foods. Going to a more high end place was better for his health.

“Michael…Are people going to hurt us?” Dinadan asked once he’d put the car into park. He’d become timid, as though he was folding in on himself in fear. It was a very out of the ordinary reaction from him.

“No, why would someone attack us?” Michael asked, utterly confused. Dinadan fiddled with his hands, staring down at the floorboard.

“Because we’re both men, and we’re going on a date”, he said. He seemed so ashamed. Michael shifted in his seat to face him. Dinadan didn’t even bother to look up.

“Times have changed. Some old people might glare at us, but that’s it. Hate crimes are relatively low. Nobody really cares. I know it’s a big adjustment, but I promise that it’s okay for two people of the same gender to go out. It always has been, it’s just taken people a long time to accept it”. Michael said. It had been explained over and over again to Dinadan that there wasn’t anything wrong with him because he wasn’t straight, but there was still a seemingly permanant creeping doubt that he seemed to carry. Dinadan reached up and tugged his hair slightly, the way he always did when he was nervous.

“And on the most basic levels of understanding, I

know

that, but…Michael, you have to understand that for the longest time, I’ve been taught that it’s wrong. Christianity was making it’s way through the region of Albion before I was even born. My parents raised us under that religion, so I had the Biblical teachings shoved down my throat since I was a small child, even though I never believed in any of it. And when I got to Camelot, I was met with whispers that something was wrong with the kingdom, that the religions were mingling. Tristan was so very against two people of the same sex loving each other, but then there was Kay and Bedivere being so open…I just, I don’t know.

I would have small crushes on girls every once in a while, and i never beat myself up over that…But I fell in love with guys too, and I just couldn’t make myself stop and I was just..so mad at myself for it. It’s a big change to suddenly be in another time and place and finding out that there’s other people like me, and that there hasn’t been something wrong with me all this time like I’ve been led to believe for so long”. Dinadan rambled. Without thinking about it, Michael reached over and held his hand, trying to offer support and consolation. Dinadan didn’t pull away.

“There isn’t anything wrong with you. You’re perfect the way you are… And, hey if anyone tries to screw with you, they’re going to have to get through me. My job might be to sit at a desk and do math, but I’m stronger than I look, and I’ve knocked teeth out before. Just because I’m a pacifist doesn’t mean I won’t wreck someone for trying to harm you”, Michael said without really thinking about it.  It felt almost natural, to reassure him like that. A faint smile crossed Dinadan’s face, his stone grey eyes flicking up to look at Michael.

“My hero. And just so you know, being a pacifist is nothing to be ashamed of…Just because I’m a knight doesn’t mean I’ve ever killed anybody. I don’t

want

to. I’m not scared to hurt someone real bad…Now why did you knock someone’s teeth out?” he asked. Michael offered his arm once more as they got out of the car and headed up to the building. Michael chuckled at the memory. It was the first and only time he’d been suspended. It was also the first time something other than his cussing problem landed him in detention. Around the same time Lacey and December started working at Haven.

“Some guy in my calculus class called my sister a whore and was talking about how she’d probably slept with all of D.C. and a whole bunch of shit like that. I told him if he didn’t shut his mouth, I’d shut it for him. He kept flapping his jaws, so I socked him and knocked out three of his front teeth”, Michael could remember the event like it was yesterday. The class had erupted in noise, and his teacher- a little old lady that everyone called ‘birdie’- had stared at the scene in shock for a good two minutes before she ordered Michael to the office.

The boy’s dad was actually a really good guy who told Michael not to worry about paying for dental work because his son deserved it.

Lacey took him to get ice cream when he told her why.

“You would’ve fit right in to the round table, made an excellent knight even as directionally challenged as you are…” Dinadan said. He seemed like he wanded to say more and was refraining from doing so. Michael figured he shouldn’t question it.

“Maybe, but I quite like what I do now”, he said. Dinadan had been holding his hand the whole time.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Michael did not dream of his sister’s death or the things he wanted to do to Dinadan the night they went on their date. It wasn’t some other twisted nightmare or wet dream that made him hope he didn’t talk in his sleep.

Somehow, it was ten times worse than any of that combined.

It was so very bright, and if Michael didn’t know any better, he’d think he was in a room with all white walls, ceilings, and floors, but this was just different. It went on as far as the eye could see, and the wind was blowing. It felt like he was standing in an endless plane.

“Mikha’el” a voice said to him. It was impossibly deep and ethereal, shaking Michael to the very foundations of his core, forcing him to turn and face it with ferocious authority. It was bright and glowing, despite the white surrounding them, hovering above the ground.

It was something between a man and something Michael wasn’t quite sure he’d experienced before. Whatever this was had the body of a man- A tall, muscular one, but he could not see any features and his voice was far too deep. His face and head were obscured by the golden light of an impossibly bright ring that hovered above his head. It felt so very unreal. What was most catching about the thing was how through the shroud of light…Gods, Michael couldn’t even place what color the light was, he’d never seen it before. It was something somehow

lighter

than white, even though it shouldn’t have been possible- was wings. Long and birdlike, stretched out a good eleven feet on either side of the body.

The last couple of feet of the appendages were beyond the glow, showing long, white feathers. An Angel, maybe, but it just didn’t seem possible.

“Mikha’el, do not fear my presence. I am here to deliver a message, “ the voice said once again, still booming and impossibly loud, reverberating in Michael’s chest, but familiar at the same time.

Oh, he’s saying my name in Hebrew,

Michael realized, before the confusion that he even knew that set in.

I don’t speak Hebrew.

What is your message, Gabrhi’hel?” he asked.

How do I know your name?

Michael wondered. Something in the energy shifted, a strange recognition between man and…Whatever Gabrhi’hel  was.

Gabriel,

something in Michael’s subconscious supplied.

His name is Gabriel.

“Yhwh has forgiven you”, he said. Michael didn’t have to think long before his mind supplied him with another answer that he shouldn’t have had.

Yahweh,

was all that he said to himself.

“Forgiven me for what?” Michael asked. A low rumbling, like thunder but ten times stronger filled the air around them and shook the ground he stood on so hard that Michael nearly lost balance.  Rather than something in his subconscious mind supplying the answer, he simply

knew

in his very core that Gabriel was laughing.

“You will remember in due time”, Gabriel said. Michael didn’t get the chance to ask what he was talking about, darkness took over the edges of his vision, creeping toward the center and at last submerging him in blackness.

When Michael opened his eyes, everything was still dark, but he was able to move freely, bolting upright.

“What the hell?” he breathed into the cinnamon cented air of his bedroom. Cinnamon was the only kind of candles that Isiah bought. Footsteps could be heard approaching, and soon the room was filled with the soft golden light from the lamp next to his bed. Dinadan was standing next to him, hovering anxiously with his hair in disarray.

“Michael, what happened?” he asked, his voice low and soct the way it was when the knight had to wake him from nightmares. He had to wrack his brain for why Dinadan was in his room, recalling the seizure earlier that night. How he’d had to hold him up on the stairs until he got his bearings enough to walk. Michael’s room was closer, and Dinadan had insisted that Michael keep his own bed to himself, and slept in the recliner.

That was probably for the best, because Michael didn’t exacly trust himself to sleep in the same bed as someone he was so deeply in love with.

“Nothing just…A really strange dream”, he said. He didn’t know how else to describe it. Dinadan sat next to him on the mattress, always so ready to listen, even though there was no way in hell he actually wanted to.

“Like some screwed up nightmare or something else?” he asked. He was sitting just close enouh for their shoulders to brush against each other, for him to feel the heat coming off of his body. Michael wanted nothing more than to reach out and hold Dinadan against his chest, convince himself that he was real, that this was reality and he wasn’t out of his mind, but he held back, not wanting to scare him away.

“I’m not so sure” Michael answered him honestly. It was impossible to lie to his knight. Michael wasn’t quite sure when he started thinking of Dinadan as ‘his knight’ but it felt right, and comfortable.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked. Michael shrugged, but he found himself talking despite himself.

“Somekind of Angel was in front of me- I’m not sure if it was a dream or a vision- and he called me Mikha’el, which is my name in Hebrew. I

knew

it was my name even though I don’t speak Hebrew…He told me Yaweh forgave me, and I don’t even follow the Abramic god. Forgiven me for what, I don’t know. And to top it all off, I just

knew

his name was Gabriel, but I said it in Hebrew. It’s so confusing and I don’t…”Michael trailed off. Dinadan was biting his lip, as though he was deep in thought.

“Archangels”, he said out of nowhere.

“What?” Michael asked.

“Michael and Gabriel are Archangels in the Abrahamic Pantheon. It seems Gabriel visited you, but that doesn’t explain why he called you the Hebrew name for Michael.” he said. Michael nodded. It did make sense to him, only because Lacey had him enrolled in a Catholic School for six months when he was in third grade. Nearly everyone had a certain divination to them- God touched was what Noel called it. Noel was pagan, but her practice was so very strange. There was something big and ancient about Noel, a presence surrounding her like a forcefeild. Eldrich was the only easy he could describe it.

Aimee was similar. Big, ancient, mysterious, but it was a more closed off energy, as though she was saying that they didn’t deserve to know. Like the gods wanted to keep their immortal puppet to themselves. Given the deal she made with Apollo, it made sense.

While his sister had never been the religious type, he’d always got a strong sense of power, of bravery. If he thought about Lacey long enough, it was almost too easy to picture her in armor, leading an army and such. But given that her sign was named after the god of war, it made sense that the battle dieties would have their hands over her. It didn’t explain why they let her die, but Michael tried not to dwell on that.

Dinadan and Lancelot were similar, never dabbling in faith, but that didn’t stop them from having a near divine sense about them. Death and water dieties seemed to like Lancelot, there were too many pebbles and raven feathers near him for it to be anything else. Dinadan was musical, but behind that music was a bit of madness as well. He was the only one Michael could call out presences on. Dionysus and Apollo.

Guinevere’s gods were ancient. Twice as old as Noel’s and a hundred fold more angry. They were mostly forgotten about, but still strong and loud. She had the most noticeable god-touch. Michael could feel her presence, sense the spirits that watched over her before she entered the room.

Victor was Earthy, and if Michael thought about it, he could see the vines of a strong tree wrapped around his body, protecting him from anything that could cause harm. Although with his being a Dryad, it made sense.

Freya and December followed the same path, but they were different. Freya was a calm peace with inevitability, a trust in her faith that few people possessed, whereas December was a roiling, angry storm. Like their faith didn’t want to be there, but they continued to hold on to it.

MIchael didn’t get that sense from himself. While he knew the gods existed, it was easier to just accept it and move on, not to bother questioning and tying to figure out who to follow. He trusted that he’d be directed on the right path, and be judged accordingly when his time came.

So why would he have visions of angels?

“But I’m not Archangel Michael, I’m abandoned at a hospital in Fairfax Michael. Distinct difference there”, he said. He knew exactly what Dinadan was thinking and he didn’t like it. Because even when jumping to conclusions, his knight was rarely wrong.

“You don’t know that”, Dinadan said. There was no tell-tale smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth that implied he was joking and that was scary.

“I’m pretty positive I do. I can recount my life story. My birth mom immigrated to the U.S when she was four months pregnant. Nobody knows who my dad is, but he’s probably still in Israel. She died on Valentine’s day of 2003, which is the same day I was born. I was dumped into foster care, Lacey got custody of me when I was three, did her best to raise a kid while she herself was still a child, and then bam, here I am.” Michael said, trying moreseo to convince himself that he wasn’t crazy rather than Dinadan.

“Fallen Angels, reincarnation, soul transfiguration, should I go on? Besides, the Abrahamic religion does have roots in Israel and surrounding countries. Who’s to say, Michael wasn’t cast out of Heaven for some reason and reincarnated as a human child. That could be you”, he said. Michael held his head in his hands.  His back hurt, and though he tried to convince himself it was from laying weird, he didn’t really believe it. There was an ache on either side of his spine, as deep as his bones, and he couldn’t help but wonder if there were wings growing back there. That they would unfold out of knowhere one day.

Would they tear through his flesh, or grow in neatly?

“You know, I’ve always got a certain feeling from you. A vibe, as Noel says. Like you’re so much more powerful than skin and bone and muscle. Like there is a warrior, something made to protect just under the surface, waiting to be released. I don’t even know how to describe it. Angel or not, Michael. You have untapped potential- A lot of it, at that”, Dinadan said. Michael fell back onto the bed, rolling over onto his side when his back protested. If it stayed bad, he could have December or Freya see what the problem was. They didn’t have the big equipment, but perhaps there was something a doctor could see or feel that he couldn’t.

“Dinadan, I really don’t want to think or talk about this, especially at night”, he said.

There was some hesitation, but his knight rose from the bed and laid back in the chair, covering his head with the heavy quilt Michael kept there just for him. Michael turned the lamp off, once again plunging them into darkness. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep, hoping he would

just dream,

and not have his mind plague him. He’d almost prefer his nightmares to angels talking to him.

WHen he closed his eyes, Michael had more visions of angels.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“Why do you want me to open your DNA file?” December asked. They were not the same person who became Michael’s step-parent. They had become a bit of an empty shell, eyes droopy and tired, slouching and always staring off into the distance. But they were the only safe bet Michael had for getting anything that resembled an answer. It was too risky to give away names and addresses when they were still living so close to D.C. so he couldn’t send anything off to a lab. The FBI had them all bordering between free and wanted dead or alive.

But December kept records and samples of everyone’s DNA, and while they hadn’t been able to bring the genetic testing equipment from the infirmary, they had brought the written files. It wasn’t Michael’s best option, but it was the only one he had.

“I just want to know if anything weird is in there…If it’s totally human or not. I don’t really want to elaborate yet.” he said. He could tell December wanted to ask a question, but luckily, they seemed to let it go. Though perhaps, they were just used to Lacey doing the parenting. They opened the file cabinet in the room. There was no sign that anyone was even living in the room that Isiah rented out to December. It looked exactly as it had the day Michael helped them carry their things into the room. Everything must have been shoved in their closet or dresser.

The file they had on Michael was about a half-inch thick, contained in a yellow folder with his full name, birthday, weight, and height scrawled on the front in permanent marker. December flicked through the pages for some time before they said anything.

“You are forty-six point two percent Middle Eastern, thirty-one point six percent Asian, twelve percent Eastern European, and ten point two percent Aboriginal Australian”. They said. Michael nodded. If anything, it meant that he was Human, at least to some extent, because Victor, Lancelot, Guinevere, and Lacey’s DNA always came back as plant genes.

“Okay, but is it like…strange?” he asked. December rolled their eyes and flipped to the back of the folder.

“To an extent, yes. You have mutations, but most of them are pretty normal ones. You’re thirty percent more prone to developing Glaucoma, but sixty-five percent less likely to develop either type of Diabetes. You have the CCR5 mutation, which is resistant to HIV infection. You also have the mutation for being tolerant to lactose. You also have the LRP5 mutation, which causes higher bone density. You also carry a virus that can make warts randomly pop up, but you aren’t even the most mutated person here, so no, not that weird”. They told him. That was a relief.

He didn’t have any more answers, but at least he knew that he was, in fact, a human being and presumably nothing more. There were two things December mentioned that he really wanted to look into and one of them wasn’t because of the dreams, it was because he didn’t know what the hell Glaucoma was, but it sounded bad.

However, birds generally had higher bone density than other mammals. He had biochemistry to thank for that little tidbit.

“None of that’s terrible?” he asked. December chuckled at him. Their laugh was uncharacteristically high-pitched, and it was the first time since September that he’d seen a glimpse of the person who raised him. It was so strange. December was almost twenty-nine, and Dinadan’s seventeenth birthday had come and gone with next to no acknowledgment.

“No kid. If I saw something super concerning in your genetic makeup, I’d tell you right away. I…I didn’t know I had a screwed-up gene until I found it myself.” they said. Michael found himself tilting his head. Whatever they were suggesting sounded bad, and he’d had no idea that December could possibly have whatever disease they were suggesting they had.

“What gene?” he asked. December waved him off, placing his file back into the cabinet and closing it, as though they felt Michael would sneak into their room and steal it to see if they hid any information…Because of course, he would.

“Nothing that’s going to kill me. Don’t worry about it”, they said, looking like they wanted to usher him out of the room. They’d spent the past two and a half months trying to wrap up Lacey’s affairs. She had so many bank accounts, and for someone who had lived just above the poverty line for so long, all that added up to nearly two million dollars.

No one had any idea.

December smirked again, nudging him in the said as they used to when he was first getting to know them and hadn’t really figured out how to talk to people yet. From the very beginning, Michael had known December was different than Lacey’s other partners. They didn’t reek of booze or weed, and they paid attention to him. They helped Lacey with bills and took Michael out to the park or dinner when Lacey worked night shifts. The only times he’d seen December make his sister cry was when they made her laugh hard enough to bring tears to her eyes.

“Besides, you’re lucky. You can eat ice cream without worrying about the consequences of your actions. Literally, everyone else in this house is lactose intolerant”, they told him. Michael found himself smiling back. 
 
Some hours later, in Dinadan’s room, Michael slammed his computer shut in frustration. Dinadan looked up from where he was sitting on the floor, surrounded by sheet music with a flute in his hands. Where the man got a flute, he had no idea, but he could play beautifully, so Michael didn’t exactly care.

“Are you okay”, his knight asked. He got up and made his way over to where Michael was seated at the desk. Where he had been sitting doing research for the past hour. Michael dipped his head down and tugged at his hair. He needed to cut it.

“No, I need a biochemist”, he said. He’d been trying to figure out if a human could develop wings, or if divine beings could walk among humans if a spiritual soul could exist within the shell of a human body without making it obvious.

“I thought you were a biologist”, he said. Michael shook his head.

“I’m minoring in biology so that I can work with DNA at dig sites. Regular biology and Biochemistry are two vastly different things. We need Freya”, he said. Michael didn’t know where Freya was, if she and Victor even shared a room or if they slept separately because the beds were small. The only thing Michael knew was that Victor was for Chemistry questions and Victor was for Biology questions.

He got up to track her down, and Dinadan came to his side, following. He didn’t know why Michael was doing the research he was doing, but at least he was supportive, seeming to know Michael didn’t want to do what he was doing alone. They found Freya downstairs with Corpse. The little Draco was healthier, catching up to Runt and eating twice as much. Freya looked up at the sound of their footsteps before her cloudy eyes locked onto Michael. She was dressed in all green and grey, but her head covering was purple and yellow, her thick dark curls sticking out from under it. She’d probably been running around with the dogs.

“Freya, what sciences are your specialty?” he asked, just to be sure he wasn’t in over his head. Freya sat back, crouching on the balls of her feet.

“Chemistry, Physics, Anatomy, and Biochem, why?” she asked. Michael smiled in relief. He wasn’t completely sure if she was good enough in chemistry to explain how biology could be applied to it.

“Because I have an incredibly weird question, and then an even weirder follow-up question”, he said. It was the best warning he could give. Michael sat on the floor, and immediately, Rory came over, laying her head in his lap, tail thumping against the floor, demanding his attention.

“I’ll answer you to the best of my ability”, she told him. She was still looking in his direction. Michael liked Freya, she was like a second mom to him, but he couldn’t get over her blind eyes. Even though they were clouded over with white, he could still clearly see the dark brown eyes under the film, and there were pink, textured scars all around them from the glass and chemicals that had blown up in her face. It felt like she was looking into his soul.

“Is it at all possible that a Human being, specifically one with higher than average bone density, to develop wings and be capable of flight?” he asked. Freya cocked her head again, as though she was heavily contemplating his question.

“It is possible for a mutation to exist or develop that could cause wing-like limbs to develop on a person’s back. They could either be purely skin and muscle or built just like an arm or leg, maybe even grow hair. If the wing structures were simply muscle, the individual would not be able to fly. However, if the limbs were bone, skin, sinew, and muscle, then the person could absolutely fly if the structures were in the proper dimensions and the person was not severely overweight”, she said. Michael wracked his brain for a moment, trying to calculate his weight to his height. He was relatively normal, maybe even a little underweight.

“Okay, follow-up question- And I’ warned you that it would be weird- Could a soul or spirit that existed in another realm be placed into the body of a human fetus and grow up without knowledge of what it is?” Michael asked. He looked down at Rory and made a point to avoid seeing Freya’s face.

“Spiritual reincarnation is a thing, and has been documented in the past, but it’s rare and complicated, which is why dieties don’t often perform the process. I don’t know about the spirit or soul being able to blend in with humans and not have any memory of what it was. That’s a question for Victor. I think he’s in our room. He specializes in Biology, Phycology, Veterinary science, divination sciences, and Oceanic sciences”, she said, giving him as helpful advice as she could.

Dinadan and Michael found Victor in his room reading a book. Whatever it was wasn’t English, so Michael didn’t know what it was.

“Ding, dong”, he said, announcing his presence. Victor looked up, thin wire glasses sitting on the end of his nose.

“What do you want?” he asked. Michael made himself take a deep breath before asking. He didn’t know how to do it without making himself sound utterly insane. Though, he was starting to wonder if he was actually slowly losing it. Perhaps he’d already lost his mind. Michael looked around, sitting on the floor again when he saw that Dinadan had already cleared the chair.

“I have a question”, he said. Victor placed a bookmark in the novel and set it aside, gesturing for Michael to carry on.

“Is it possible for a divine spirit to enter a human fetus and grow up unnoticed with no memory of its previous existence?” Michael asked. Victor cocked up an eyebrow but thankfully didn’t seem like he wanted to question why he was being asked such a thing.

“Every spirit reincarnates. New souls are few and far between. I know this isn’t really answering your question, but it's something I have to explain. When a person passes away, they enter the gates to one of the pantheons. If they weren’t religious, it’s random. They are at the gates of paradise or the underworld based on how they were as people. The soul is given the choice to either enter their new homes or reincarnate and live again. Children always reincarnate, due to how they haven’t come into their own yet…so yes, a spirit can reincarnate and grow in the body of a fetus that has not been assigned a soul, or one that has already been destined to pass away, and there will not be memories. There are people who remember their past lives in adulthood, but they’re few and far between. Now a full-blown divine being is unheard of, but if it were being punished, I wouldn’t be shocked”.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

The scary thing about seizures wasn’t someone you care about being so far out of reach. It wasn’t the multi-tasking between timing it and making sure the person was okay. The scary thing about seizures was the lack of warning. If there was any warning at all, it was only a couple of seconds of warning. More often than not, the alert that Dinadan was having a seizure was a

thud

as he fell to the ground or faceplanted onto a table. If they were both lucky, he’d grab Michael’s arm right before he blacked out. December and Freya said they were absence seizures, and that diagnosing them as epilepsy wasn’t necessary if they were few and far between- And they were in the grand scheme of things.

The problem Michael had with catching was that Dinadan stared off into space anyway. He didn’t need his brain going nuts to do it. He forgot to blink all the time. He was just like everyone else when he got lost in his own head. Michael could never be one hundred percent sure if this person he’d found himself so very in love with was daydreaming a musical movement, or if he was about to lose consciousness. It was like some sick game that they were engaged in despite neither of them having any want or desire to play it. So when Dinadan grabbed his arm as they were making their way back in from the gardens, Michael froze. It was a long-practiced routine he’d developed over the course of the year they’d known each other. Isaiah had given them all chores when they showed up that got rotated week by week. The old man needed help, anyway. It was their week to weed the garden, mow the lawn and clean the outside of the house. They always had to do things in pairs now.

Aimee swore it was so they wouldn’t get arrested or tracked, but the real reason went unspoken. It would be harder for something that shouldn’t exist to hurt or kill them if there was more than one in a group. Michael always made sure to refrain from saying that the whole group getting together didn’t stop Lacey from having her throat clawed out. It was easier for everyone if Michael shut up about it because it was so easy for him to blame every last person there despite it being no one’s fault. He blamed Lacey for getting between him and that thing. He blamed the animals for not fighting harder. He blamed Noel for driving away.

He blamed the gods and the universe and everything in between.

Michael turned to face Dinadan. He was wobbling, his eyes glassy and unfocused where they looked at him. He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, and then his knees buckled as his eyes rolled to the back of his head. Michael wrapped an arm around him and held the back of his neck with his hand, lowering them both to the ground as softly as he could manage. For a soldier, Dinadan was light. Michael wasn’t very strong, and he could easily pick his knight up if he wanted to. He pushed him onto his side so he couldn’t choke, cradling his head in his hand where he’d half fallen over his lap. It was unlikely that he would choke given that he wasn’t ever actively seizing, but he’d rather be safe.

Michael counted in the back of his mind, looking down at Dinadan for any sign that he could possibly be coming around. Even though Michael knew otherwise, he looked peaceful, as though he was just sleeping. The way Michael imagined waking up to him, wrapped in sheets, curled up against his chest and content for once- though Michael would never tell him about that image. But he knew better, felt bad that he thought that, because people who were waking up didn’t struggle to talk without slurring their words, nor did they have trouble walking, or keeping their eyes in one place. Michael had seen drunk people struggle less. And frankly, it hurt to see someone he loved so dearly in so much pain, see him struggling so much.

Michael didn’t know when he fell in love with Dinadan. Maybe it was that moment in his office when he ran inside to hide from Lancelot and had shown Michael how to sew. Maybe it was the way he touched his arm when he was first showing Michael how to use a sword. Maybe it was the way his hands glided effortlessly over the neck of his guitar, or maybe the way he sounded out words and phrases when Michael was teaching him to read. Perhaps it was the way he looked at Michael like he crafted the universe with his bare hands, how he clung to his arm and how he leaned on him like he was worthy of his trust. Maybe it was the way he held him and let him scream when Lacey died, or maybe it was how he’d looked at him, so trusting yet scared the first time they met, and Michael told him when his birthday was.

But more than anything, he was probably in love with him before they even met. Michael had always had a romantic vision of medieval history. Of glittering stained glass and armor. A vision of soldiers sneaking kisses in tents after tournaments. Had held a certain idea of someone built to protect letting their guard down for him. Of having someone just as loving and protecting as he was at his side. And then Aimee had dragged this beautiful, stupidly brave knight into their timeline who gave him his trust. Michael at fallen in love with at least his face then and there. And while there had to be some other reasons on top of it, Dinadan had chosen to leave behind nearly everyone and everything he’d known back home just for Michael. Just to stay with him, and that made Michael want to do everything in his power to keep his knight’s heart safe and secure. But Michael still found it nearly impossible to admit that. To simply say, “I love you”.

It took three minutes and thirteen seconds for Dinadan to start moving a bit, shifting his arms and legs in controlled enough movements for Michael to feel it was acceptable to stop counting. He immediately started talking, well aware that Dinadan could get violent when he was disoriented.

Victor had found that out the hard way.

“I’ve got you, we’re right inside next to the big green lamp. We came inside from ripping up weeds in the garden and you had a seizure,” Michael said, letting him know what was going on. He always kept his voice soft and calm for fear of making him feel like recovery was being rushed. Like he needed to try making himself stand up and move around long before he was going to be ready to. If there was an emergency, Michael would just drag or carry him, and if that wasn’t going to work, he’d strap him to Cannibal’s back. Otherwise, it was best to just let things pass.

His eyes opened slowly, darting all about the room, and not able to focus on anything. He couldn’t keep them open very well, and it looked like his eyes were full of tears. Sometimes he’d get scared or confused enough that he’d start crying, but he’d been sniffling all day, so Michael was sure he was just allergic to something in the garden. As long as he wasn’t in anaphylaxis, he didn’t need to worry.

“You’re alright, I’m not going to let anything bad happen, I promise”. Michael assured him. He didn’t seem nervous, just confused. Michael shifted into a position that more resembled comfortable, letting himself lean against the wall. He didn’t try to get Dinadan to sit up yet. When he tried sitting up before he was ready one of three things would happen and none of them were good. He’d either fall back down, his neck would end up at a potentially dangerous angle, or he’d throw up.

Usually, the first thing Dinadan said when he was coherent enough to talk and translate his thoughts into English would be “what time is it?” “Did I hurt you?” or “How many people saw me?” This time, it was an observation. Rare.

“I spit all over your hand”, he said. Michael looked down, having not noticed. He was right, he’d drooled on his hand some. It was normal, but usually, Michael didn’t hold his face in his hand like that, so if he did spit, it either got on the floor or the leg of Michael’s pants. He didn’t care. Working with crack addicts at the greenhouse before coming to Haven meant he’d seen and touched much worse. He shifted to hold his knight’s head in his hand to wipe his hand on his jeans. He could let his head rest in his lap without having to worry about it, but he didn’t want to.

“It’s okay, you’re not venomous”, he assured. Dinadan laughed, coming back to himself bit by bit. Michael reached down and brushed his hair back out of his face, trying to make him ever slightly more comfortable.

“Did you know that humans could have venomous bite in a few hundred years?” he asked. His words were quiet and breathy, but he wasn’t slurring them at least. That was a good sign.

“You spend too much time with Freya”, Michael said. Dinadan smiled again, shifting, a little stronger like he wanted to sit up. Around ten minutes had gone by since the seizure got over with, so he felt like they were safe.

“Thank you, Michael”, Dinadan said, nearly a whisper.

“No problem. Do you feel like you can sit?” he asked. Dinadan paused, thinking about it before he nodded and awkwardly placed his hands on the ground, getting ready to push himself up. Michael guided him, though tried to let Dinadan do it on his own. He shifted a little, as though he was going to fall over. Michael leaned over and graspedd him by the shoulders, leaning him back against the wall. Dinadan was strong enough to hold himself up, but weak enough that he laid his head on Michael’s shoulder, though he could care less- It felt natural.

“I’m sorry”, he said suddenly. Michael was glad his knight was positioned so he couldn’t see the confused expression that crossed Michael’s face. If anything, Michael felt like he should apologize for not noticing sooner every single time it happened. For not catching him faster, getting him on the ground before he could fall and about a thousand other things.

“There’s not anything for you to be sorry for, Dinadan”, Michael told him. Always reassuring him. Again, he didn’t mind. If anything, he liked knowing he could reassure Dinadan so easily.

“I know it scares you…and everyone else”, he said, referring to the seizures. Michael shifted, moving slowly to wrap his arm around his shoulders, halway hugging him. Dinadan exhaled hard enough that it could be considered a sigh. Not one of exasperation or anger, but contented.

“You can’t help it, and I’m sure it scares you way more than anyone else”, Michael told him. He shifted, as though he was trying to get closer to Michael without even knowing it.

“I know, but…I still feel bad. I always get looked at different”, he said. He wasn’t lying. Michael saw it all the time, and it pissed him off a little, even though he was sure he was guilty of doing the exact same thing.

“They just look at you like that because they worry about you. That’s how a team should be”. Michael said.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Michael was in the blinding more-than-white place again. He’d come to recognize it, though he didn’t know if it was Heaven or some recurring delusion. Frankly, he didn’t want to know. He still hadn’t confirmed anything, even though a certain force deep within his being knew he was Michael, Archangel of the Abrahamic Pantheon and former right hand of Yaweh. Michael didn’t only see this place. Sometimes a naked woman with long black hair and glowing serpentine eyes would take his hand in her own clawed one and walk him into something that resembled hell to an extent. Something in his mind said her name was

Lilit,

or Lillith.

In the hot place, it was dark save for where the fire’s light touched. It stunk, primarily of rot, but of sulfer as well. The scent of sulfer was the only thing that made sense given that the fire in the big pits burned blue. Hulking beasts with hundreds of eyes and limbs rattled their chains and whispered his name from the shadows, barely visible as their skin was red, black and scaly. Charred from the flames. His mind once again supplied him with their names,

Mammon and Valac.

Thankfully, Michael didn’t dream of Gehenna as often as the Other Place. This time, it was not Gabrhi-hel, the glowing man with wings. It wasn’t the thing with four faces and twelve eyes that called itself Abbadon. And it also wasn’t the women with seven rings of blue eyes around her body help aloft by six wings, who he knew was named Uriel. This one almost looked Human.

Michael couldn’t tell if they were male or female, but he wouldn’t be surprised if some of those angels (assuming it’s what those things were) didn’t have sexes at all. Michael couldn’t see thier body, he never saw them fully. This one was just a silhouette behind a mass of light blue, glowing plasma. A shade of blue that actually existed on Earth.

Sandalphon,

his mind supplied. He still couldn’t understand how he always knew their names. Michael waited for them to speak, as always. It was like he was frozen in both body and mind until the angels said something to him.

“Don’t be afraid when he comes to you”, they said. Their voice was less eerie than Uriel’s, but not quite as powerful as Gabriel’s, although it was still bone-shatteringly loud.

“Who?” he asked. Michael was never able to stop himself from asking questions. Not that there was ever any resolution to them, but it was the most he could manage when the dreams or visions or whatever they were took him over.

“You should know by now that we cannot answer that question, Mikh’hael”, they said. That was always their answers.

Michael woke up tangled in his sheets and drenched in sweat, like always. His room wasn’t dark anymore. He kept candles lit all the time now. He’d refused to sleep in the dark ever since he started seeing wings and glowing halos out the corners of his eye when there wasn’t any light. Part of him knew it was just a fearful mind and hallucinations from not being able to see his surroundings, but something else told him it was otherwise.

That those things weren’t just visiting him in his sleep.

The result was his room always smelling of melted wax with hints of cinnamon and apples to it, and smoke, but it was better than the alternatives of letting visions of the divine consume him or rack up the electric bill more than it already was. Michael looked to his left when he felt a presence shifting on the bed, almost expecting it to be one of the beings from his dream-visions coming to pay him a real-life visit.

Somehow it was worse and better than an Angel all at once. Dinadan was in his bed. Dinadan was in his bed next to him. Dinadan was in his bed shirtless sleeping next to him. Michael looked down, finding that he wasn’t wearing a shirt either, and quickly lifted up the sheets to make sure he at least had

something

on. His mind was racing. He couldn’t even remember sleeping together. He didn’t

feel

like he’d been drinking, although he was struggling to recall the events previous. Michael was on the verge of praying they hadn’t done anything that would give his remaining family a heart attack- He hadn’t even worked up the nerve to kiss Dinadan yet. He breathed a sigh of releif to see that he had shorts on.

Michael tilted his head up to look at the cracked ceiling. Everyone was tense at dinner that night, retreating to their individual rooms as soon as they had claimed their food. Dinadan had come into Michael’s room not long after. He usually sought out other team members- Not wanting to be alone.

Michael was tired. When he looked up from his phone, Dinadan had fallen asleep on a piece of paper. Michael had lifted him up and laid him on the bed. It got hot in his room, and he could now recall that neither of them were wearing shirts that night. Michael had been exhausted enough that he just collapsed into bed next to him, swearing to deal with the awkwardness the next morning.

At least they hadn’t done the other kind of sleeping together.

Michael heaved a sigh, accidentally flinching when Dinadan stirred next to him. His tired, silver-grey eyes opened, scanning his face.

“Are you okay?” Dinadan asked. They both knew the answer, but he continued to ask, and Michael continued to answer. He was never okay. He was visited by dieties, demons and angels in his sleep, questioning his humanity and there was a never ending ache on either side of his spine- So suspiciously where wings would have to be on a human for it to be anatomically possible.

“Just another one of my vision dreams”, he said, shaking his head. He didn’t know what to call them, so

vision dreams

had become a thing. Michael figured he could call them dreams, since he was never exhausted when he woke up. He was resting

somehow.

But on the other hand, they were visions, because they were recurring situations and were all similar in terms of the message being sent to him.

Michael wondered if he was hallucinating severely. He was tempted to look into being evaluated for schizophrenia but he only met one symptom. He didn’t isolate from people, he didn’t perform poorly in college, have trouble speaking, depression or a lack of motivation- Quite the opposite, actually.

“Oh, okay”, Dinadan said. He was still tired, clearly. He dropped his head right back down to the pillow, and were it not for his breathing, Michael would think his knight had already managed to fall asleep again

“I’m hot and gross. I’m going to go shower”, he said. He didn’t think Dinadan would flip out and worry if he didn’t know where Michael was, but he didn’t want to try risking it. Michael was in one of the rooms on the left side of the hallway that had separate plumbing from the rest of Isaiah’s mansion, so he didn’t have a bathroom off his room and had to go to the end of the hall.

The bathroom was all green tile, giving it an earthy feel with the wood cabinets and panelling, but the showerstall with white linoleum and multicolored bottles on the floor threw off the feel entirely. But Michael still preferred it. One didn’t get electricity and the other always smelled like sulfer when the water was running.

Michael tossed his shorts into the corner and turned the water on cold. He hated cold showers, he had been told numerous times that he could be set on fire and still be cold, but that was the best choice for knocking sense back into himself. Michael tensed under the cold spray, letting the water run over his head and pour down his body. He leaned against the wall, still incredibly tired and feeling slightly nauseous.

He wondered if this was the visions Lancelot had been talking about his son having. The hallucinations of saints and angels that called Galahad to lead himself and two other knights out to the desert in search of an unreachable relic, never to be seen again. Michael didn’t really know what to call Galahad. They’d never met. He was technically Lacey’s older half brother, but given that Michael was her adopted younger brother, he didn’t know what to think of the grail knight. As family, or some estranged guy related to his sister.

Because technically, Michael didn’t have any family he was related to by blood. He had the woman who raised him, and her family.

It was all so frustrating. From the smallest detail, to the biggest issue. The debt piling up against Haven. They had more debt than money being printed in the whole country. Nine hundred trillion dollars accumulated and never paid off from 1530 to the present day. The only place he had ever been able to call home burning down because of irresponsible crack addicts. Being uprooted from a place that had just begun to feel like home because of a selfish government. His mom being killed by something so dark and twisted it shouldn’t exist. Dinadan, in general.

With his selflessness, and gentleness. His unyielding trust in Michael that he surely didn’t deserve. His hands, always seeming to want to hold on to him. His smile that could easily light up a whole room. His perfect lips.

Gods, his lips.

The showerhead emitted a high-pitched noise, as it did when the water pressure was off. It startled Michael out of his thoughts, which was probably for the best. He pushed his dripping hair out of his face and looked down. He didn’t know what he was expecting by staring at the floor other than giving his neck a break, but he found another issue in the form of what thinking about Dinadan tended to do to him.

Damn it.

Ignoring the shame he could feel building up inside his chest, Michael took himself in his hand and began to stroke himself, thinking of those perfect lips around him, so accepting and soft. He couldn’t help but feel ashamed of himself, but he tried to talk himself out of feeling bad over what he was doing. Better to take care of the problem now than crawl back into bed with the source of his arousal, right? Releasing didn’t take long, it never did when he thought of his knight like that.

Michael turned the spray off, leaning against the tile once more to catch his breath before he stepped out, rubbing his hair dry with a nearby towel and stepping back into his shorts. Dinadan was still awake when he came back into his room. He was out from under the sheets, and shivering, staring at the wall on the opposite side of the room, appearing as though he was in a dissociative state.

“Hey…Are you alright?” he asked, gently. He didn’t want to scare his knight. Dinadan shifted, a movement akin to a flinch.

“I don’t know…Do you ever get really overwhelmed to the point that everything hits you all at once and you can’t stop thinking about it and all those feelings combining with each other make a really strange, painful pit in your chest?” Dinadan asked. It all came out in a rush. He wasn’t out of breath, but he was about to be if he didn’t give himself a break. Michael climbed back onto the bed, trying to make his smile as reassuring as possible.

“Only every day”, he answered honestly. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t keep secrets from Dinadan.

“I’m not going insane?” Dinadan asked. Michael bit his lip to avoid saying anything along the lines of ‘not because of this’. He shook his head.

“No. It happens to me, it happened to Lacey. I’m sure it happens to everyone else. Come here”, he said. He laid back down behind Dinadan and loosely wrapped his arm around his waist. He made sure not to press up against his back, he didn’t trust certain body parts not to betray him.

“What are you doing?” he asked, not anxious, just slightly confused. Michael nearly pulled away, but left his arm around him, not sensing that he was uncomfortable.

“Comforting you”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Michael almost screamed when Lancelot showed up behind him. Usually, he could sense when people were coming up to him, and after spending enough time in Haven, he could usually sense who it was as well. Everyone’s energy felt different and affected the space they were in, and with those who had stronger magic like Noel and Victor. They completely changed the feeling of whatever room they entered. But still, he got snuck up on a few times, and it was usually December. Michael was comfortable enough and used to their energy, so he didn’t feel them coming unless he was thinking about it. Freya tended to be able to show up seemingly out of nowhere as well, as she had a very faint energy about her.

Any magic or energies or such she possessed had to be gifts from her gods.

Usually, he didn’t get snuck up on by his aunt or uncle. Like Lacey had been, they could be sensed from halfway across the building. They had really strong energy, but he wouldn’t put either of them at the top of the list because everyone’s energy and magic seemed to fluctuate. Sometimes, he could sense the angry god’s that saw Noel as their follower the same way he could sense that lightning was going to strike nearby due to the way the hair on his arms stood up. Other times, he couldn’t find that feeling even if he searched for it.

But those two were very much

there.

His uncle seemed like he was followed by the Grim Reaper. It was something heavy, dark and permanent. Not something evil, but it certainly wasn’t benevolent, either. It was how Michael imagined it would feel right before death took one under. Guinevere was reminiscent of a library of dusty old books, covered in the influence of gods so ancient that nobody could recall or even pronounce their names. But unlike the sense of old wonder one would get from ancient things, the gods that had chosen Guinevere as theirs were powerful and

furious.

Michael could feel their anger like steam rising from a pot of boiling water.

Despite this, Michael had noticed something incredibly peculiar about all his coworkers and “family members”. Even when they were running through the halls trying to get a shoe back from one of the dogs or trying to prevent starting another fire on the stove, you couldn’t hear anyone’s footsteps.

So when Michael turned around, he just about screamed. Lancelot was dead silent standing about a foot away from him for who knows how long.

“Holy shit. You can’t sneak up on me like that!” Michael exclaimed, leaning back against the counter. His uncle smiled-The bastard. Michael had a reflex to punch and/or swat at things that snuck up on due to how often he shared his space with roaches, mice and various other animals and insects. So when a person snuck up on him, chances were that they would be getting slapped across the face or punched in the nose.

“I’m sorry, you looked busy”, he said, pointing at the cutting board. Peeling potatoes wasn’t really busywork, but if he didn’t do it now, then Victor would come bitch at him. Michael shook his head, his common sense coming back enough that he put the knife down.

“No, I’m just trying to get everything ready for that weird caserole thing Aimee wanted to make tonight. Why are you lurking?” he asked. Lancelot glanced over his shoulder at the kitchen door, as though he was worried about someone coming in for whatever reason.

“I need help doing research related to human biology”, he said. Michael sighed and didn’t even bother trying to hde the fact that he was roling his eyes.

“I will tell you what I’ve told everyone else. I am minoring in Non-Science Degree Biological Research. My major is Archaeology. I’m not a biologist or anything of that sort. I’m not even going to have the credentials to teach first graders about the water cycle. All that minor means is that I get to do advanced research at digsites, which I can use to help Haven. It’s the entire reason I’m minoring in biology in the first place. I’ll do my best, but if you want a solid, scientific answer, go to the genious couple”, he said. It was a speech that he had borderline memorized by that point. ‘The Genious Couple’ was what he called Victor and Freya when they weren’t around to hear it. The two of them seemed to know everything. His uncle was staring at the floor, now.

“I did”, he muttered through gritted teeth. He wasn’t angry, he just seemed as though he was suddenly regretting his decision to come to Michael with whatever his question was.

“And how did that go?” Michael asked. He was tempted to ask him why he was even there if he’d gone to Victor and Freya first, but refrained. He probably would have done that to anyone else, but not family.

“Victor asked me why I’m trying to tempt the gods at a time like this, and Freya told me I was insane”, he answered.

Oh, well that explains why he’s asking me.

Michael didn’t know why Lancelot thought Michael would help him if the actual scientists had told him he was batshit crazy about whatever he wanted to know, but he’d give it a shot.

“I…Okay, then. Why come to me with it, though?” he asked. Lancelot scoffed at that, for some reason.

“Michael, you were raised by my daughter. There’s no way in hell you aren’t just as unhinged as me and Guin- Maybe more”, he said. That really wasn’t something he could argue with. He’d

met

Lancelot and Guinevere and that alone was enough to know they weren’ t the world’s most sane people. And Lacey- Even before she fought Dragons and Skinwalkers with little more than her own two hands- she’d beat the shit out of men three times her size, had killed, cooked and ate rodents and regularily drove at twice the speed limit.

“You know what, that’s fair. What do you want to know?” Michael asked. He knew he was going to regret it, but that still didn’t prepare him for what Lancelot asked him.

“Is it possible to bring someone back from the dead long after they’ve taken their final breath? Biologically possible?” he asked. Michael figured he knew where that one was going. He wanted the same thing.

“Did you google it?” he asked. It was a slightly helpless question to try getting out of it, but it was still worth a shot.

“I’m not good at the internet”

“Skeletal Muscular stem cells can retain their ability to regenerate as well as neurons in the brain. That’s possible up to seventeen days after someone clinically passes away. So long as someone hasn’t been pumped full of embalming fluid, their heart can be restarted, but you only have hours to do that because of how quickly a body can begin to decay. There’s a time limit on everything. However, there’s nothing that can be done about biological death. If the brain has died, there’s no bringing someone back from that, no matter how advanced science becomes. However, divinity cannot be ruled out. I’ve never seen it, but I’ve heard far too much about the gods bringing people back and restoring limbs that had been cut off decades before. And given that there’s no evidence that the concious dies off after the body does and that we all know afterlife exists, it’s entirely possible for a soul to be returned to a body, and for a deity to repair the body

Now this would probably be difficult with

someone

who has been dead for nearly four months, if you’re talking about who I think you are, but it certainly isn’t impossible”, Michael said. The thought that Lacey could be brought back from the dead was one he’d had more times than he could count. He tried not to be too hopeful about that. It didn’t stop him from pouring over research articles and no doubt making his professor question his sanity.

“I don’t know how to find out if someone’s brain has died, but I

can

tell you one thing, although you have to listen to what I’ve said before you start screaming at me”, Lancelot said. Michael chose it was better to keep his mouth shut and nodded.

“She isn’t decaying. She’s dead as hell, but Magnolia isn’t decaying at all. And he wounds are healing. Guinevere has dug up that grave two times. The first time all those wounds were open and just beginning to scab over. But last time, they were just scars. Even though it’s a wooden casket, she doesn’t have any bugs in there or anything. She’s cold and stiff and smells like a dead person, but she hasn’t decayed or anything. It’s like she’s being preserved by some unseen force…You have to understand, Michael. She’s our daughter and we had just gotten her back when we lost her. She just wanted to see Maggie one last time”  he said. If Michael was in a cartoon, he would’ve had to pick his jaw up off the floor and put it back on.

“So you think she’ll come back if you find a way to stick her soul back in there…But I hope you know I can’t do anything to fix a dead person’s…not aliveness.” he said. Lancelot nodded in agreement. In a way it made sense. Lacey hadn’t been embalmed since there was no way in hell her funeral would have an open casket. She’d been an organ donor, but the mortician they had do her autopsy had said everything was too damaged.

“I know, but a god can. If we find what pantheon her soul was handed off to, we can probably get a deity to help us resurrect her.” he said. Michael felt like his head was spinning and wouldn’t stop no matter what he did. It seemed too good to be true- Too unreal.

“Prove it”, Michael said. He wasn’t expecting to say that, and he knew he’d more likely than not regret what he was asking for the rest of his life. Lancelot raised his eyebrow.

“Okay”, he said. Lacey was buried under a weeping willow tree a way’s into the woods of the property. Michael made a point not to visit her grave. It wasn’t because he hated her and it didn’t even have to do with his anger. He just didn’t want to revisit all that trauma and pain when he’d already said goodbye to her.

It had clearly been dug up, fresh soil piled up, looking like it was fresh. Lacey’s headstone was incredibly simple. It was a grey stone rectangle, everything carved into it had been done for under a hundred dollars.

Magnolia Lacey Du-Lac. 04/01/91-09/17/22. “Even if everything leads up to dying, the comforter isn’t creased”.

They’d been having a wet winter, so the ground was relatively easy to dig at with the shovels. Soon, Lacey’s damp wood coffin came into view. Michael followed Lancelot down into the grave, feeling a pang of fear and regret when he pulled his shirt over his nose.

“Hold your breath. Being perfectly preserved didn’t stop her from smelling like a corpse”, he warned. Michael obeyed, not planning on being there long. Just enough to see if Lancelot was going absolutely insane or not.

Lacey was covered in flaky, black dried blood. Her eyes and face were sunken and she seemed thinner than the last time Michael saw her, but she still had all her skin. Through the holes in her shirt, he could see the scars from a stab wound, as well as on her chest and neck. Those clawmarks were little more than raised pink scars.

Michael turned to his uncle, not knowing what to do about it.

“If you happen to go on a vacation to somewhere that isn’t on any maps, I’d like to come with you”.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“Please tell me when weird shit will stop happening”, Michael begged. He wasn’t looking for an answer, but he couldn’t just be sitting in Dinadan’s room pissed off as he was for no reason. He ddint’ even know why he’d gone straight to his knight’s room, It just felt more right than going to his. Dinadan looked up from the flute he’d been given, where he was trying to clean it. Michael had collapsed into the chair in the corner of the room, staring at the floor.

“I think strange happenings are part of the work we do in Haven. I can’t speak for everyone else because I got involved with this stuff at eight. I wasn’t part of Haven, but I knew of it as a knight, so I just learned that weird shit was around. It’s something I’ve long since learned to embrace”, Dinadan told him with a shrug. That wasn’t anything resembling a lie. Camelot had been a Haven location, apparently. Arthur had stood at what would become Head of Operations, and Guinevere had been a general of sorts. He had selected ten knights to act as feild soldiers given that the other positions didn’t exist at the time.

“Let me rephrase…Why isn’t my sister’s body rotting. Why are her wounds healed? None of that should be possible, least of all the scarring thing. I know that everyone tried to hide things from me, but I saw it scratch her. Those claws flayed her skin open. I could see her collarbone sticking out, and the one on her neck went deep enough that you could see her swallowing. She was covered in blood within seconds. Even though December was making me run away, I still saw Aimee stab her to kill that thing. The sword went all the way through. There’s so many arteries in the abdomen, there’s no way they weren’t severed. She has to have died before those injuries could even

start

clotting”, he said. Michael tried so hard not to think about it. More often than not, his nightmares (the normal ones, not the angel visions) involved Lacey the last time he saw her.

It wasn’t his sister for real, just something his mind had conjured up out of terror. He didn’t know how her parents lived with what happened, because Lacey up close was beyond terrifying to see. Up close, her eyes were clouded over and dead, sometimes rolled so far back there was no sign she had any. He was able to see the big artery through one of the slashes, see the muscles over her ribs flexing as she struggled to breathe, see the way her vocal cords twitch when she spoke. It was terrifying.

There was no way she’d be able to heal from those. Lack of medical care aside, Lacey was loosing blood too fast to live. The scabs Lancelot mentioned being there at first were entirely plausible. To be expected honestly. Blodd that wasn’t circulating was bound to clot far faster than it normally would. And scabs were little more than dried blood clots and platelets. But for her skin-the skin of her dead body- To knit itself back together without sutures and go through the healing process enough that scars were forming should have been impossible.

“Michael, how do you know that?” Dinadan asked. He looked as disturbed as Michael felt, his mind no doubt having strayed to the image of Michael alone digging up her grave and looking at the dead body for whatever reason.

“Lancelot and Guinevere dug her up because they wanted to see her one last time. When they did, she wasn’t decaying at all and the slashes from that thing were starting to scab over. I don’t know why, but they dug her up a second time and the scabs had become scars. I thought Lancelot was insane so I told him to prove it…And they’re right. She healed. She’s dead as hell, but her body isn’t rotting and those wounds that were way to big to even be sewn shut are scarring over even though it should be impossible. Every law of chemistry, biology, common sense, and anatomy is defied by this and yet…And I saw it with my own eyes. Saw it with two other people, so either we’re all delusional, or something is preserving her body for something. And to top all

that

off, I think they’re planning something. They’re going to figure out which pantheon took her in and try to get her soul back. They’re going to try to briing her back to life, and I don’t know if I think they’re crazy, grief-stricken parents or not, because I want to go with them…” Michael trailed off. He’d been raising his voice without realizing it.

It was all so intense, so much. A crushing weight. Just over a year ago, he’d been on the verge of graduating high school. And then his family’s apartment burned down, he started working for Haven, handling more money than he even knew existed. Changed his major to better fit what had already become his career path. He was making two hundred dollars an hour and losing half of it to health insurance he hadn’t even set up. And then he was once again driven from home and into a hotel, then camped out in the woods with a Skinwalker that killed his sister, was living on the estate of a former Haven Worker and was now being told his sister probably wasn’t as dead as everyoen thought.

And he believed it.

“I’m going insane”, Michael came to the conclusion, hiding his face behind his hands. Dinadan got up, his footsteps just barely audible as he came to stand in front of Michael. His small, gentle hands grasped Michael’s wrists and pulled his hands from his face. Dinadan was stronger than he looked. His expression was full of pity and concern.

“The craziest person in the world was the one who decided we should measure a person’s hope by deeming them sane or insane”, his knight said. Michael choked on a sob, and soon found himself unable to stop a flood of hot tears rolling down his cheeks. He tried once again to hide his face but Dinadan wouldn’t let go of his arms.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to dump all this on you. So much has happened all at once and it’s just so much to deal with. I don’t know how to handle any of this. I don’t know if I

can.

Fifteen years, Dinadan. She raised me for fifteen years. From the age of three until the moment she died, Lacey was my sister and my mom and my best friend. She adopted me when I was three- I can’t even remember my life before she adopted me because of how bad things were. She worked three jobs and made her coworkers who were off at the time babysit me until I was old enough for preschool. She did everything in her power to keep a roof over my head. She went hungry so I would never have to know what it was like to go to bed with an empty stomach. She was at the top of her class and she dropped out of high school six months before she was supposed to graduate to keep me safe.  Lacey gave up everything for me, to keep me safe and she wasn’t even related to me, she just did it because that’s the type of person she was. The last thing she did for me was get between me and the Skniwalker. She

died

for me and I just started to accept that and now I’m being told that she might be able to be brought back to life”,

Michael didn’t know he had that much to say about the whole situation, but he’d found himself bawling and suddenly Dinadan was in his lap. He wasn’t heavy, but it was startling and mildly uncomfortable for different, slightly more intimate reasons. He fit a little too perfectly. He sat up straigh, slinging his legs over the arm of the chair. His knight wound his arms around Michael’s neck and held on tight. Michael didn’t resist as he was pulled in, leaning down to place his head on Dinadan’s shoulder.

It was a little awkward, given that Michael was nearly a foot taller, but Dinadan was so warm, his presence so comforting and soothing. Michael welcomed it with open arms and let himself break down a little bit for what felt like the first time.

“I don’t…It’s just such an unreal situation to begin with but it feels too good to be true. Like the situation is just too perfect. I don’t know…I don’t even know how I got to this. I wasn’t even supposed to become part of Haven, I snuck into the building. And even then, I thought I was just supposed to do numbers and stuff. I never thought it would come to this and now I don’t know if I can get out of it. Hell…my sister’s dead but maybe not for real or much longer, my step-parent is totally beyond my reach and to top it all off, I might be either schizophrenic or turning into an angel”, Michael ranted. He didn’t have much else to do or say.

“What do

you

want, Michael? It can be anything. What you want for your future, what flavor you want your birthday cake to be, what you want to do for all this or even what color you want to turn your hair”, Dinadan said. Michael chuckled at that. His knight had been perplexed by December’s hair and how often they dyed it. He had to think, unable to form his thoughts into anything that seemed remotely coherent.

“I want to bring her back”, he said. There wasn’t anything he wanted more than Lacey to be returned, or at least for justice to be served. The thing that possessed her had been cast away by the flaming blade, there was no killing it, no making it go through the absolute hell Lacey had. Thus, getting her back in some way, shape or form was the only form of justice there was.

“Then go on their quest”.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

People tended to make noises in their sleep. Michael had known that long before sharing a bed with his knight, before sleeping on December’s floor the first week in the mansion, and before sleeping in a camp ground with everyone else. He was often stuck in a small, enclosed space with Lacey throughout his entire childhood. Sleep noises were something he’d come to expect when sharing a room with someone. Occasionally, people mumbled random words. Other times, they grunted and sometimes, there would be a laugh.

Screams weren’t rare, but they weren’t exactly to be expected, though. So of course, Michael was startled awake when his knight screamed. It wasn’t the keening wails of December that could still occassionally be heard from the greiving medic’s room. Nor was it the screams of terror that everyone reported Michael did. It was one of pain and fear.

MIchael was up instantly, leaping up out of the reclining rocker he slept in when he spent the night in Dinadan’s room, under a thin comforter he’d dug out of one of the closets. He leapt up with enough speed that he couldn’t get his feet under his body quickly enoough and nearly fell. The thick white carpet burned his hands and knees. He flicked the lamp on, scanning the room for intruders or anything else that could cause some kind of distress.

The room was vacant, both of a lot of belongings that he simply didn’t have, and any threat there could have been. Dinadan’s sheets were a mess. Half the blankets were hanging off the bed, both pillows were knocked onto the floor, and what sheets were still on the bed had become rwrapped tightly around his legs. He was thrashing violently, muttering incoherently in what was either Welsh or nonsense. His hair was tangled and splayed out around him, a thin sheen of sweat on his skin.

Michael made his way over, starting to gently shake him to wake him up. With the pillows on the floor, he could see that there weren’t any daggers or other weapons in arm’s reach that Dinadan could possibly stab him with out of fear.

“Dinadan, wake up. You’re dreaming”, Michael told him. He wanted to shout and get him out of that, but it was the fastest way to make him panic more than he already would be. It was easy to just talk at him and hope that the sound of his voice and the shaking would wake him up. Dinadan’s nightmares weren’t nearly as frequent or bad as Michael’s but they still happened enough that he was able to figure out the best methods of helping him out of it.

“You’re safe with me, I promise. Come on, wake up”, he told him. Dinadan shifted under the sheet that was tangled around him again, keening as though he was in pain. He was shaking slightly. It had never been like that before. He moved his arms, lifting them up enough to knock his haands against Michael’s wrists. He did that sometimes.

“Okay, hold on”, Michael said. He leaned away from the bed and began to make work of unraveling the sheets from his legs. It was a rough battle against Dinadan. His knight was strong, though he was small and didn’t tend to act like the soldier he was. Michael was finally able to rip the sheet away. Despite it being winter, there was a lot of heat that got trapped in Isaiah’s house by the stones and thick wood it had been built out of.

So it wasn’t too out of the ordinary for everyone to sleep in limited to no clothing. Michael wasn’t surprised to find that Dinadan was only wearing a pair of shorts that weren’t all that long, probably from Freya. That didn’t stop Michael from becoming flustered at all. What caught him off-gaurd was the scars. His knight had a decent number of scars. Slashes from blades, jagged cuts from falls and one stab wound from a near-death fight with someone named Agravain. He had a star-shaped scar from a screwdriver striking him on the wrist as well as a half circle on the edge of his hair-line from where he was thrown off the Draco in Mexico.

But he had a lot of thin, pink, horizontal lines on his thighs and ankles. All about three inches in lenth in small clusters. The most recent looking injury that he could see was just above his ankle, looking as though it was fresh- Two days old at the most maybe, and far too neat and intentional to be from training or some kind of accident. Michael tried not to think about it for the time being.

MIchael got up onto the bed once again, shaking Dinadan by the shoulders and trying to wake him up again. Tears began to stream down his face as soon as his wide grey eyes snapped open. He gasped loudly, and attempted to leap up. Michael held him down a bit, trying to avoid knocking heads with him as he leapt into a sitting position.

“Mihangel?” he asked. His voice was quiet and strained, even trembling. The Welsh was the first normal thing about their night. When Dinadan first woke up, his brain didn’t catch up with English for some time. He could understand what other people were saying to him, but he couldn’t seem to put the words together to respond in the same language he was being spoken to in.

“Oes”, MIchael said to him. It was the only word he knew in Dinadan’s language, though really the only one he could pronounce well enough to consider that he knew it. With no warning, Dinadan leaned forward, locking his arms tightly around his torso, squeezing him tight like he was convinced he was going to vanish at any moment. Michael was glad he wasn’t too hot not to have slept in a shirt, because if Dinadan were to have laid his head on his naked chest, Michael could have died then and there.

He was still shaking, he breath coming out in quick wheezes. It was a little scary.

“Hey, it’s alright. You were dreaming…We’re safe”, he said to him Michael didn’t want to ask, waiting for Dinadan to talk on his own. When he finally did, his voice was trembling even worse than his body was. Michael returned the embrace he was being given. He wouldn’t really call it a hug, Dinadan was moreso clinging to him out of sheer terror, and Michael had just happened to be the first thing  he was able to grab hold of.

“Are we safe?” he asked. He sounded lso scared. If Michael didn’t have such a good sense for energies and such, he’d believe that his knight knew something he didn’t- Was scared of someone or something Michael wasn’t aware of.

“Yeah…We’re in Isaiah’s estate, it’s where all of us have been staying for a long time now. We’re in your room….You know how and why we share rooms like this. You were screaming in your sleep and I woke you up…and now here we are”, he said. Dinadan made another keening noise, tightening his arms even more. It was brief, thank hell, but he swore he felt his ribs bow a little under the tight grip. He stayed where he was, his head pressed against his chest still, right where he could listen to Michael’s heart.

That was a strange quirk he had, needing to know people were alive. Especially when he was scared.

Apparently, after all the Draco fights, he’d hold onto Lacey’s wrist right where he could feel her pulse. He would also place his hand on people’s ribs when he was sitting close, where he could feel their lungs expand and deflate. At least Freya noticed it, because she’d given Dinadan one of the stethoscopes.

“Do you swear on your life?” he asked, deadly serious even though he was still trembling and frightened.

“I do”, Michael promised him without even thinking about it. Dinadan was still crying, his warm tears making a wet spot on his shirt. He held him for some time, not knowing what to say to him or anything. He didn’t even know what to do except just being there.

“It was Badon”, he said out of nowhere. That sounded familiar, although Michael wasn’t sure where. He paused before he asked anything. He didn’t want his knight to feel like he had to talk about it if it was going to be too much.

“It was such a small place, such a fast fight…But we still lost so many people…I wish I never lied about my age”, he said. That had come out recently. Dinadan claimed that he was four years older than he actually was so he could get close to family. Everyone in Camelot thought he’d come to the kingdom when he was twelve, had become a square at fourteen and been made a knight at sixteen, when in reality he went to Camelot at eight, became a square at ten, and had been made a knight when he was twelve years old.

“How-How old were you at Badon? Was it your first fight?” he asked, prompting him as gently as possible. He wasn’t sure if Dinadan needed to talk about it when he sure as hell didn’t want to.

“I was twelve…but my first fight was in the lower town of the kingdom during an attempted coup…but if you want to count all the times I ran through my home kingdom and into the woods to wait for seiges to end, I was probably four.”, he said, whispering. Michael pushed that down to worry and talk about later. He tightened his arms around his knight.

“So Badon was just different? The biggest or something?” he asked. He felt like he was going down a dangerous road and he didn’t know if he wanted to continue or try to backtrack.

Dinadan shook his head almost violently.

“It wasn’t special…But it’s the first place I lost family at…My sister was an honorary knight. She was married to sir Tramtris, but she earned his title after he passed in a plague. She chose to fight to honor his memory…I didn’t know you had to keep pressure on wounds at the time…She-She bled our right in front of me and I couldn’t do anything about it” he said. He dissolved into heaving sobs once more, shaking even harder. Michael grimaced, running his hand up and down his back, not knowing what to do or say to him.

“Her name was Destiny- Pitifully ironic”, he scoffed through his tears. Michael pulled back from him slightly, starting to worry about him.

“I’m so sorry that happened. I can’t imagine how hard that must have been, but it was in the past, okay? You seem like you’re on the verge of hyperventilating- It’s not deadly but it isn’t good for your health. Do you feel like yuu could breathe with me?” Michael asked. He’d seen people have anxiety attacks before. A few times in classes, and a few times when Lacey didn’t know he could see her, although that didn’t mean he knew what to do.

Michael tried to guide Dinadan’s breathing, get him to imitate what he was doing. It seemed to work, at least to an extent, but he wasn’t doing good. He looked like he was going to pass out and he was still wheezing badly.

“Okay, I’m going to call December. They can either use their skills to help or bring medicine. They didn’t just

decide

to be a medic, they went through medical school. They’re going to become an actual doctor when they graduate this spring. December’s performed successful surgeries on people, I

know

they can help”, Michael said. He pulled away from Dinadan just enough to reach for his phone where it was charging on the bedside table, and hope December didn’t have their ringtone on silent.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

December’s phone went to voicemail twice before they picked it up, angrily telling Michael that someone had better be dying because they were going to kill him if he woke them up for no reason. It was the most “normal” December had been since Lacey died, and if Michael were a little more selfish, he would have ignored the task at hand to wallow in that for a moment. Instead, he held the phone lower for a second, where they would be able to hear Dinadan crying, struggling to breathe as he had been from the moment he woke up.

“I think he’s having a panic attack, but I can’t get him to calm down and I’m worried he’s going to pass out”, Michael said. Fabric rustled in the background as December got up, and Michael couldn’t help but to breathe a sigh of relief.

“Have you tried to get him to breathe with you?” they asked. Michael rolled his eyes a bit, not out of any form of malice, but rather in exasperation. He didn’t have time for December to ask a thousand questions, he needed them to get there and help- The faster the better, at that.

“Yes…It didn’t work. He either can’t focus or physically can’t make himself do it. We’re in his room, please come help”, Michael told them. December hung up before Michael could, and he dropped the phone to the comforter in defeat. He turned his attention back to Dinadan, who was the same, except it sounded like he was trying to apologize. Michael pretended to ignore it. There were a lot of things it was easy to ignore for the sake of his own sanity.

Dinadan’s scars.

How Lacey flinched when someone barely brushed against her.

The look in Aimee’s eyes.

Noel’s drawings.

Victor’s knowledge.

Freya’s strength.

Lancelot and his weird connection to Ravens.

The shadows that followed Guinevere around.

December’s twitching hands.

His dreams.

“Hey, December’s coming so they can help you. It’s going to be alright, I promise”, Michael told him. He wondered if that was an insensitive thing to say to someone who had lost a family member. Yes, he’d lost Lacey who was arguably his best friend. But she was his sister and legal guardian via adoption on paper, but as the person who raised him, Michael saw her as his mom.

But everyone had lost someone important when Lacey was too brave for her own good that night.

Michael lost the closest thing he had to family. Dinadan lost a close friend. Noel lost a helping hand. December lost a spouse. Lancelot and Guinevere lost their daughter. Victor and Freya lost someone they’d begun to see as a child- They saw the younger Haven members as their own, never hesitating to take them under their wings. Aimee lost…Well, Aimee and Lacey had a relationship, even if it was built on hating each other.

Dinadan was all alone in his grief over Destiny, as no one else knew her.

His knight didn’t move. If he wasn’t shaking so violently, Michael would have thought that perhaps he’d stopped trembling and was just shivering out of cold, but it was far too violent, and the building was kept at a steady 75-80 degrees. Michael ran a hand up into his hair, holding the back of his head and keeping him close. He didn’t know if he was helping at all, and doubted he was any source of consolation at all, but it was better than nothing. Right?

December knocked lightly before they opened the door and came inside. They were dressed in all grey, the clothes far too big on them. Their half black, half red hair was pointing in every direction known to man and they had a white and red bag slung over their shoulder. It was one of the three med-bags and twelve portable first aid kits.

They came over slowly, tossing the bag down on the desk and taking a stethoscope out. They were side-eyeing Michael, and he knew it was because the two of them were sharing a room. He owed them an explanation and he knew it. December came up to kneel on the bed, the old, worn mattress dipping under the pressure.

“Separate for a second”, they said. Michael held Dinadan by his shoulders, hoping it wouldn’t scare him and pushed away from the knight. He wouldn’t let go, so Michael wasn’t able to force him back without hurting him. December set up a small, prtable screen that looked like a tablet, but when they powered it on, he saw that it was a blood pressure machine. They wound the cuff around Dinadan’s arm and pressed the stethescope to his chest. A few moments of awkward, still silence passed.

“Okay, he’s not in cardiac arrest, so you’re right about the panic attack. DInadan, I’m going to try to help slow your breathing down and if that doesn’t work, I’m going to inject medicine into your bloodstream, okay?” December said. They removed the cuff and tossed the stethoscope onto the bed. Dinadan didn’t appear to be listening to them as he leaned forward and clung to Michael once again.

Michael could feel his chest heave against his body as he attempted to get air in and out of his lungs. It wasn’t going well. Between his violent shaking and sobbing, his diaphram and the other muscles around his ribs couldn’t steady themselves enough to let him breathe in all the way.

“He can’t do it, December. He’s shaking too hard”, Michael said. He was starting to worry about Dinadan fainting again. The more stress he was under when he had a seizure, the worse it would be, and Michael didn’t want to think about what could happen if he passed out when he was already struggling to breathe.

“Okay, I need you to hold his arm steady. You’re going to have to squeeze him so I can find a vein. I’ll explain what’s going on while I do it. I don’t want to knock him out, I just want to make him tired enough that melatonin takes over the cortisol and make him fall asleep”, December explained as they soaked a cotton ball with alchohol. Michael reached down and pried Dinadan’s right arm off of his waist. He didn’t fight against him just holding his arm, but when Michael put pressure on him and started to squeeze, he pulled back. Michael found himself making a shushing sound.

“It’s okay, I have to hold your arm tight so December can find a vein to put the medicine in. I’m not going to hurt you”, Michael said.

If I leave bruises he’s going to hate me,

he thought. That seemed to curb him for the most part. December poked at his skin a little before they found a spot that they seemed to be okay with sticking a needle in. Dinadan hissed in discomfort as they rubbed the alcohol on his arm and gritted his teeth when he saw the syringe.

“Michael, you need to keep pressure on his arm until I remove the needle. Dinadan, the medicine I’m drawing up into this syringe is called Alprazolam. It’s going to make you tired and cause your sleep hormone, melatonin to override the stress hormone- cortisol-that’s causing this. You should fall asleep relatively quickly. I’m not going to hurt you, but you will feel a slight sting when this needle breaks your skin. It will only take a few seconds for me to inject the medication. You won’t bleed hardly at all since this vein is thick, so I probably won’t even need to put a bandaid on you.” December explained. Michael had never seen or heard them be so calm before.

Michael’s step parent did just as they said they would and Dinadan hardly flinched as they inserted the needle into his arm. The result didn’t happen immediately, but it became noticeable quickly. Dinadan’s breathing began to slow, sobs turning to little more than sniffles as he cried. He loosened his grip as well, now just leaning lightly on Michael rather than holding on for dear life. Michael kept his arms around his knight, supporting him in more way than one.

December raised their eyebrows at him, packing everything back into their back. Michael groaned internally and made a point not to look at them.

“We’re courting- which is dating but with deeper emotions. We have shared a room since Isaiah let everyone move in, but we’ve only slept in bed next to each other once. One of us sleeps on the bed and the other sleeps in the chair depending on whose room we end up in. I’ve had horrible nightmares ever since September seventeenth, and Dinadan’s seizures are more frequent. We practically

need

to share a room. Nothing nefarious goes on between us, I promise. Haven’t even locked lips, December. We’re innocent”, Michael explained. It sounded weird to say that, but December didn’t seem put off by the explanation. They nodded, lifting the bag on their shoulder and heading out.

“Physcology isn’t my forte, but that sounds completely normal. I was just a little worried with how vulnerable Dinadan seemed tonight. You’re almost two years older, and my mind automatically thought you were taking advantage of him. Logically I know you’d never do that, but it doesn’t stop me from being suspicious…Just stay safe, kids”, they said. Dinadan hadn’t ceased shaking, still seeming incredibly distraught. Michael didn’t know what he could do to help his knight- He didn’t even know what he was supposed to say about it. Michael looked down at the head of messy red hair leaning against his chest and his mind once again strayed to the Christmas present Freya gave him.

Maybe what Dinadan needed was a heartbeat. Not his own, but one of someone he (hopefully) loved. To know that they were alive and wouldn’t be leaving. It couldn’t fix the sibling shaped hole he’d been left with- Nothing would- but it was surely better than nothing. Michael pushed him back, and without his death grip, Dinadan fell back onto the sheets again, staring up at Michael with hopelessness in his tearfuilled eyes. He ran a comforting hand up and down his knight’s arm.

“I’ll be right back, I just have to find something real quick. I won’t even leave the room, I promise” Michael assured him. Dinadan nodded, but his eyes followed Michael from the moment he stood up from the bed. Michael didn’t have to search for long. The white and blue stethoscope was the only thing in the drawer of his bedside table. Michael lifted ith out of the drawer, letting Dinadan see what he was holding so he wouldn’t scare him.

Dinadan allowed Michael to place the device in his ears, watching his every move with a questioning expression and drooping eyelids.

“You like knowing when people are alive- Having proof that nobody’s dying on you. I might not be Destiny or anyone else you lost, but I’m someone you have to lean on and I’m

here.

And so I give you proof of life”, Michael said. He was a little surprised with himself, hadn’t expected it to be remotely as poetic as it had turned out to be. Michael still hadn’t figured out a way to say “i’m madlky in love with you” that wasn’t only six words long.

Michael laid down at Dinadan’s side and slid the ball of the stethoscope under his shirt. It was cold, but quickly warmed up. Dinadan’s demeanor changed immediately, relaxing to the point that his eyes finally slide shur.

“Thank you”, Dinadan said.

“It’s nothing”, Michaels said, even though it meant the world to him too. Though, to be fair, Dinadan in general meant the world to him. No, more than that. Dinadan meant the Universe to Michael, and he deserved the entire world at least. Of course, Michael doubted he'd ever be able to make himself say that.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“Victor, darling, you know too much”, Freya said in a sing-song voice, having walked in on the late-night second dinner that everyone participated in It was just rare for them to end up in large groups. Tonight, Michael and Dinadan had encountered the genius couple, December and Lancelot.

“It’s not my fault Aimee used to make me time travel constantly”, he said, sticking a finger in his chili to see if it was warm enough. Victor was a strange man even when he wasn’t talking. He dressed like a pirate, could sing any Enimen song in existence and he ate shredded cheese straight out of the bag. He would never understand how Freya dealt with that. Love only went so far. Michael was head over heels in love with Dinadan but if he started cursing at the microwave in ancient Egyptian, he’d run far away.

“He’s been everywhere in just about every time period”, Freya clarified. Michael raised his eyebrows, looking at Victor to see if they were both serious, but he was too preoccupied with looking for crackers in the cabinets.

“Seriously? Like I understand going into the past to correct things and entering the future to make sure everything was on the right path, but…” Michael trailed off, not knowing how to properly ask his question.

“I’ve watched Plateosaurs hatch when the species first started to evolve into what would become the beginnings of Dinosaurs and I’ve watched the atmosphere burn with neon green flame from Barium bombs in a fifth world war three centuries from now”, Victor said, taking a seat at the table before he continued talking.

“There’s a lot I know that I really wish I didn’t- Saying I have all the knowledge in the world is hypocritical at the least offensive, I’m a polymath. However, I have learned and retained many things. There isn’t much I couldn’t tell people”, he said. Freya was nodding, looking in the direction of the toaster, as it was the closest thing that made noise.

“What did this country look like before Homosapiens came around?” Freya asked him. Michael wondered if she’d always been the medic or if she was time-traveling with her husband too. If she’d gotten to experience all the things that he had.

“Well, the west coast to what would become Kansas and Missouri was primarily sandy beaches and similar to a rainforest. There was a sea in Colorado that made the Grand Canyon and the trees were huge, some of them were probably thousands of feet tall. The East cost to about a quarter way through Missouri was more marshland and swamp, except there was more continent where Florida is now and the Carolinas were an island. It used to be full of Elves and Dire Wolves. Gods like Quetzocoatl and Pinga regularily commmunicated with the animals and people there…It’s a little depressing to see what a place with so much potential for magic became”, Victor said. If Michael had not grown used to the brainfu ck that Haven had become, he would have thought Victor was lying, but it was just too real. Liars were usually vague and what Victor spoke of had far too much detail. And there wouldn’t be so much longing emotion in his eyes if it wasn’t true.

“What was it like when the gods still walked with us?” Lancelot asked. He had aged seemingly over night two times now. The first made more sense than the second. He’d quite literally aged a few years when he went back into the past, but he’d also seemed to get older when Lacey died. He was slower, and looked more tired. The skin around his eyes wrinkled on the rare occasions that he smiled, and white streaks could be seen in his light hair when the light hit it. Nobody knew how old he was. Typing people from so long ago was difficult. When he was first brought through, December placed him between nineteen and twenty-five, and Guinevere between seventeen and twenty-three.

“I wouldn’t call it divine when they still wanted anything to do with us. Divinity comes from looking up to them as something insurmountable. Before the Divide, Humanity had more of a parent-child relationship with the gods. They looked like us, walked our streets, and spent the night in our houses. We often spoke to them as equals, and we placed our offerings directly in their hands…And then we began to evolve a fear of things that were not Human. Rightfully so, too. Flesh Residents exist all across the world, there have always been mimicking spirits with malicious intent, and early Humans had to put up with Neanderthalls, which were quite viscous compared to our species. And so, Humans pushed back from the gods, seeing them as puppeteers to be feared rather than loving creaters to be respected”, he said. Michael wasn’t sure if he was supposed to believe that. He’d look into the gods and all that shit when he saw that it was all real.

That didn’t mean Michael was going to test his luck and disrespect them.

“Dinadan, is there something you want to know?” Freya asked the knight. He was startled out of a stupor where he’d been cutting up carrots to put in his salad. He was still nervous about food and usually stuck to things that he either knew he could eat or was already used to. He’d also had a seizure earlier that night, and was still slightly out of it. Slow to respond to people and not knowing where to look.

“The whole world fought five wars…Why?” the knight asked. His voice was small and afraid. As though he didn’t know what was to come.

“Three have happened. The first went from 1914 to 1918, and the second from 1938 to 1945. Many will argue that the third one hasn’t happened yet, but it did. The difference is that a lot of people don’t know about it, since it wasn’t humans fighting humans. It’s only considered a world war by the Councils and world leaders because every global power was involved. From 1997 to 2002, we waged a war against the Dark One…We think it was a prehistoric god that took residence under the floor of the Indian Ocean, but there’s no way to know for sure…Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, that thing was out for blood. The fifth World War was between Mexardana and China, and it’s going to start in 2097 and end in 2104…

Oh, Mexardana is Mexico, Canada, and the United States. They became one country after a global depression in the 2040s. I know someone’s about to tell me that I skipped the fourth one…We’re not allowed to talk about it. Not allowed to travel around or anything trying to find when or where it starts. All we know is that Haven is involved- Deeply at that”, Victor said. A chill fell over the kitchen for a second, as everyone processed what that information entailed. Yes, it could be decades away, but it could also start tomorrow.

“Michael, uh…What’s your favorite dinosaur?” Freya asked. Everyone had come to know about his special interest through Lacey’s passing. Michael had gone straight to what brought him the most comfort, leading to him going on about the inaccuracies in Jurassic Park and about how fossils weren’t really bones anymore. Surprisingly, no one made fun of it.

“Pteradons”, he said with little hesitation. He thought the flying lizards were so neat (Even though Dinosaurs were more closely related to birds anyway).

“Weren’t actually Dinosaurs, try again”, Victor told him through a mouthful of beans and tomatoes.

“Giganatosaurus”, Michael said, not having to think about that one for very long. He remembered being so excited when there was one in Dominion. In Michael’s opinion, they were the neatest land Dinosaurs ever and deserved more recognition. (Spinosaurus was the coolest water one). Although, the aquatic nature of a Spinosaurus was a matter of furious academic debate. Victor was silent as though he was having to dig for the knowledge of what that was.

“Giga-Nacho-Whatasaurus?” Freya asked. That was usually the response he got if he wasn’t being told that Dinosaurs were lame. He’d take it.

“Giganatosaurus, the largest documented land predator to ever exist. One of the only animals that could beat a T-Rex in a fight”, Michael said. Dominion didn’t do those beautiful animals justice. Freya nodded, as though she knew it was better not to get him going on a tangent again.

“Wings…Giganatosaurus and many other large bipedal Dinosaurs had wings. Not like a Wyvern would, but similar to those of an Ostrich without feathers. And they weren’t aggressive unless they were provoked, most of them weren’t. Don’t ask why, but I have discovered that Giganatosaurs, Baryonyxes, and Velociraptors don’t mind being pet if you gave them fair warning…God, we’re lucky the time machine broke down”, Victor muttered the last part under his breath. The three men that were not Victor shared a confused look. Aimee had been incredibly furious and upset when the time machine at Haven broke down.

“Why is that a bad thing?” Lancelot asked. Victor chuckled.

“Because Michael here is the type of person who wouldn’t hesitate to try and hug a T-Rex”, Victor said, causing everyone to burst into chuckles and laughter.

“They’re very misunderstood!” Michael tried to defend. He was being serious, too.

“See”, Victor said. Michael laughed but decided to explain himself as well.

“When you have a special interest, it becomes your whole world. For me, Dinosaurs are my special interest, and have been since I was a little kid. I would give anything to take a ride on the back of a Triceratops, to see a Brachiasaurus reaching up into the branches, to hear the chirps of a Velociraptor and to swim beside a Spinosaurus. To reach out and feel what their feathers felt like, to touch their scales to see if they’d be warm or cold, to hear the sounds they made. Just to see one in real life would be an amazing experience…Because I simply love Dinosaurs.” he said. Michael always had a deep, deep passion for his special interests. Grew so incredibly attached to what he liked that sometimes, it was all he could think about. Freya had a faint smile on her face, that Michael couldn’t quite figure out.

“I mean…Time travel isn’t possible anymore, or at least right now, but trust me when I say that they were beautiful creatures. If I could draw, I would give you a picture of one. If I understood what I was witnessing, if I knew I would meet someone like you and that the time machine would break, I’d have brought a camera and taken pictures of them” Victor told him. Michael found himself smiling.

“I thought you said Dragons were Dinosaurs”, Dinadan said in confusion. Victor shrugged at that, holding a heating pad against his stomach. He was closer to being male than female, but Victor still had a period.

“Dracos are not, they existed before Dinosaurs and they have continued to exist after. Littles like Ghost and Beast are probably descended from Compies. Wyverns are the ones that are most definitely Dinosaurs. They actually evolved from Baryonyx sometime in the Cretaceous period”.Victor explained. Michael could see it. Similar body shapes, bipedal, the only difference was that Wyverns had shorter noses.

“Really?” Michael asked, feeling excitement beginning to buzz in his veins. Freya smiled and nodded in his general direction.

“Michael, I bet Cannibal wouldn’t mind going for a ride. He gets to fly around when he hunts and I try to ride him when I let him out, but he still gets agitated being cooped up like this. It isn’t an ideal situation for anyone. He seems to be warming up to you, I’m sure he wouldn’t be an asshole if I was with you.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Michael was buzzing with excitement as Dinadan led him to where Cannibal was kept. The animals were kept on the lowest level of the house and usually roamed free. The exceptions were Corpse, who stayed close to Freya, Ghost who was imprinted on Victor, Beast who was attached to December, and Runt who chewed on everything in sight. They were only kept in their cages at night so they wouldn’t try to sneak upstairs. Angel, a passive python Isaiah kept as a pet had her own pen complete with a kiddie pool and two pillows. The three dogs slept in kennels, built for larger dogs because Victor felt bad for them. They also had a myriad of blankets and toys to keep them occupied at night. Cannibal was different, given that he was a loud ass dragon weighing at least four tons. His wingspan measured no less than forty feet, though thankfully he didn’t fully extend them even when in flight. His tail alone was ten feet long, and he stood at around eight feet tall, having gotten bigger in a year’s time. Michael had helped build his crate. They disassembled dog kennels and welded the metal back together, filling the space with thick comforters he could make a nest with and a scratching post. He could easily escape if he wanted to, but he seemed to understand that he was supposed to sleep in that space.

When he was inside and awake, the Wyvern could usually be found letting the dogs use him as a shield while they played or making his rounds around the perimeter. It could be creepy to come downstairs first thing in the morning and be met with his piercing eyes staring at you, but it was comforting to know that he was willing to protect everyone.

The red Wyvern raised his massive head at the sound of their approach, his yellow eyes reflecting in the limited light where he’d claimed the space under the staircase as his “cave”. He grunted low in the back of his throat and warbled at the pair. His attention was on Dinadan, but Michael could feel his wary eyes on him, distrustful of anyone who wasn’t his master. Even then, Michael had seen the animal be incredibly wary of Dinadan himself- Hissing when he got too close, refusing to eat until he was left alone and swatting at him when he got too close.

Michael could see it now, see that the Wyvern was definitely descended from the great beasts of the past. His serrated teeth were visible sticking out from his lips like those of a raptor, his skull was not unlike that of a Baryonyx. If it were less flexible, his tail would be reminiscent of a Tyrannosaur. He wanted to reach out and touch him, feel the small, tough scales under his hand so he could learn if Dragons were cold blooded or not. Although, he knew he’d probably lose a hand if he came close to touching Cannibal.

“He’s been out to hunt recently, so he probably won’t eat if we offer him a snack. Just wait for a second”, Dinadan told him. He approached Cannibal with an outstretched hand that the Wyvern nuzzled into, making a noise not unlike that of a purring cat. He began to speak to his Wyvern in Welsh, his tone softer than anything Michael had heard from him before. He gestured for Michael to approach.

“This is my friend. He’s a good person. I’m going to take him for a ride…He won’t hurt you”, Dinadan spoke. Cannibal huffed at him as Michael reached out to touch his nose. He showed his teeth a little more, but he didn’t growl. The air being blown out of his nostrils was hot, although his scales had a lukewarm temperature to them.

Coldblooded.

He made a higher pitched sound that was akin to a chirp were he not such a arge animal. Michael looked at Dinadan for an explanation.

“He’s accepting you. That doesn’t mean you get to do whatever you want and he’ll listen, it just means he’s not going to maim or eat you”, he told him, so very nonchalant about it. Michael would never understand how he could be like that. So calm and collected about being so close to an animal that could turn on and kill him at the drop of a hat. Cannibal didn’t have respect for Humans- It was a tolerance at best. He had a bond with Dinadan, but it wasn’t an imprint of any kind.

Cannibal was as wild as the day he hatched and no one could ever change that.

“Does he go nuts when you fly- Like get really fast or anything?” Michael asked, beginning to second guess himself. Dinadan smirked as they walked out of the wide double doors at the side of the house. It was cloudy, the sun invisible behind the thick grey that nearly looked like smoke. Easy to hide in- Perfect for concealing a Dragon.

“He gets fast sometimes, but he’ll slow down fast if you tell him to quit. He really only rolls with me, and he won’t dive with anyone on his back, which is a good thing because Victor clocked him divebombing at one hundred miles an hour. I don’t have a reference for that, but I know it’s really fast”, Dinadan told him. Michael struggled to wrap his mind around that fact. It seemed impossibly fast for an animal that wasn’t in some vehicle. Though, Cannibal wasn’t exactly a normal animal. He was a species of Dragons, evolved from dinosaurs and reeking of magic. Something of a child’s daydreams.

“He won’t do that with us right?” Michael asked, starting to worry. Dinadan seemed too absorbed in checking the saddle straps to pay attention to him, and he responded just as Michael was on the verge of repeating himself.

“No…He usually only goes fast with me. He rarely attempts to roll on people when he has someone on his back. If you reach up for one of the spikes on his neck, he’ll crouch so you can get up on his back easier.”, Dinadan instructed him. MIchael wrapped his hand around what he thought would be a hard spike to find that it wasn’t awfully pointy and it was very flexible, as though Cannibal had evolved to be able to have a rider jump on his back in the heat of battle. Though, as someone who was getting a degree in biology, Michael knew quite well that it was just a mating display. He was actually surprised that Cannibal wasn’t more brightly colored.

“Okay”, Michael said, hoping Dinadan couldn’t hear that he was hesitating. This was a horrible time to tell him he didn’t know how to ride a horse. He tightened his grip on the Wyvern’s spike and gripped the back of the saddle, shoving his foot into the stirrup and swinging a leg over his back. He made it on the first try, to his own surprise.

“Do I use the rope?” Michael asked. There were ropes secured to either side of the saddle. Dinadan shook his head, gripping one of the spikes closer to Cannibal’s tail and holding the back of the saddle as he hefted himself up with a grunt.

“No, that’s for solo flights. Just because he doesn’t roll with me often doesn’t mean he won’t do it. I can hold on without them, but I tie my legs to the stirrups anyway for safety.”, his knight answered. He wound his arms tightly around Michael’s waist, close enough that he could feel his breath on the back of his neck.

“You don’t have to ride bareback, there’s room in the saddle” Michael said, worried that Dinadan was casting aside his own comfort for the sake of Michael’s. He was most certainly the type of person to do that- It took one to know one, and Michael felt bad about it. He didn’t want his knight feeling like he had to do that.

To his surprise, Dinadan laughed at him.

“I don’t mind riding like this, the thing about scales cutting through clothes is a myth. This is how I learned and it’s what I’m comfortable with. I really only use a scale because he needed to be broke in in the event that someone else had to ride him, and Arthur would have had a coniption fit about us not using saddles” he said as though it was common knowledge.

“Your king sounds like a really weird guy”, he said, elaborating upon seeing Dinadan’s confused look.

“Between what you, Lancelot and Guinevere have said offhandedly, it’s like things in Camelot were so strange that you just accepted them as every day occurrences. Who thinks a kingdom overrun with ghosts and talking animals is normal?” Michael asked. Those two examples were ones of the many he’d been subjected to hearing about.

“One filled with magic. I don’t know when it started to fade away, but stuff like that

was

normal for the longest time. The world seems so empty now…And the things that were part of my daily life have become little more than myths and fairytales…But to answer your question, no- Normal wasn’t the word to describe my king with”, he answered. Dinadan leaned forward, laying his cheek against Michael’s back, causing something in his stomach to stir that he couldn’t quite name.

“Are we going to fly now?” Michael asked. He felt Dinadan laugh just as clearly as he felt the warmth of his cheek through his thin t shirt.

“Hedfan, Cannibal”, Dinadan said, his accent coming back in full swing. Michael had forgotten he had it. If there was one thing his knight excelled at, it was blending in. However,, his talent didn’t stop Michael from being able to recognize him from a mile away. Being able to know him from the way the sun bounced off his hair, the way his laugh sounded like a trill, the way his footsteps sounded in the grass among so many other things. Perhaps he was being too egotistical, but Michael was positive he’d be able to recognize Dinadan if the knight was nothing more than a spirit haunting him from a distance.

The wind blew his hair in his face as Cannibal flapped his powerful wings, rising up to his full hight and lifting a few feet. Dinadan tightened his arms, and Michael felt as though his heart had dropped into his stomach. They went forward at first, heading straight for the canopies of the sparse woods around Isaiah’s house before he lifted upwards sharply, almost pointing straight up.

Michael opened his mouth, not sure if he was about to laugh or scream. The air felt thinner, and the ground below was hardly visible through the thick grey clouds. When he found his voice, all that managed to come out of his mouth was,

“Holy shit”.

“Why does everyone react like that?” Dinadan muttered to himself. Michael leaned back slightly, just for a brief moment. It was the closest thing he could do to “nudge” Dinadan without risking one or both of them falling off of Cannibal’s back.

“If we fall will he catch us?” Michael asked. He wasn’t afraid of heights, he was afraid of

falling

from heights. There was a distinct difference, no matter what December wanted to say.

“Yes, all the Wyverns we used in battle were trained to catch people who fell off of them while they were flying. Though I do suggest that you don’t go about testing that theory. Just because he was trained to do that doesn’t mean he’s going to be able to get you in time…That’s how Tristain went out. He fell of of Shadow and she couldn’t catch him in time. Isolde died of grief and…Well, that’s how all of Camelot thought I was Lancelot’s illegitamate brother for a week”.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Michael quickly learned that his aunt and uncle weren’t very concerned about letting him have his privacy if they needed to tell him something. If they wanted to tell him something, they’d follow him until they got his attention. It drove him up the wall. He could sense them coming the vast majority of the time, but that didn’t change the fact that they often came out of nowhere and wouldn’t go away until Michael listened.

Guinevere’s energy was the strongest and it had been for a long time- Something riling up those gods of hers. MIchael didn’t know much about her past. God touches were strange, and since he didn’t feel like he had one, Michael didn’t know how to identify if it came from the dieties taking an interest in the person or active worship of said gods. Nonetheless, there was an unease amongst the gods and magic as a whole.

Everyone could feel it. Michael was having vision-dreams every night. Those with magic had stronger abilities that almost seemed harder to control. Natural disasters and sightings of cryptid animals and humaniods had an uptake. This was from the gods getting riled up but nonetheless, it was a little concerning. Those big ancient gods were loud and powerful. Thier anger followed Guinevere like a lost dog, and when the feeling of their presence got to the point of near-suffocating, he knew she was close. Noel, his aunt and Victor made him grateful he’d long since learned to shut the feeling out. They could be too much sometimes.

For once, Michael actually heard them before he felt them. They were whispering at each other as they were coming to the kitchen where Michael was trying to drink the milkshake he bought in secret. Every single time someone bought their own food and it was discovered, it inevitably got ate by someone. He didn’t want to leave anything unattended. Lancelot and Guinevere spoke in stage whispers at best.

“To whom do I owe the pleasure?” he asked as soon as they stepped through the door. It seemed to catch them both off guard that Michael had known they were coming. They were looking at him with wide eyes and Michael couldn’t help but smirk to himself, pulling his fries closer before either of them could notice it.

“We figured out a way to bring Lacey back to life”, Guinevere said out of the blue, causing Michael to choke on one of the aforementioned fries.

“You can’t just spring shit like that on people!” he shouted. They didn’t seem interested in giving Michael a chance to catch his breath.

“The Morrigan”, Lancelot said, as though he was expecting Michael to know what that was.

“Huh?” he asked.

“Irish goddess of war, fate and death. She’s been leaving signs. I don’t work with her, but I’ve left offerings of red wine, milk and crow feathers and they’ve been accepted. I keep seeing things in threes, and so does Guin. There’s crows and ravens all over the property now and I keep seing threes. Three on the clocks, three on packages, three on the microwaves and stove. Everywhere. There is long documentation of The Morrigan bringing the dead back for good reason. It’s too dangerous to summon such a powerful goddess with little experience- Especially one with ties to fate and all things associated with it- but we can go to her and beg for help”, Lancelot explained. He was out of breath, rambling. Michael raised his eyebrows at his uncle. He was hardly processing the information, and couldn’t register exactly what he was feeling about any of it.

“Okay…How would we go about that?” Michael asked. He didn’t know if he was going to agree with or even understand what the couple was suggesting. It seemed so absurd, and Michael couldn’t help but wonder if the fact that he was agreeing with what Lancelot was thinking made him insane to some extent.

“Woodburn Forest and Resivior in Carrickfergus. That’s where signs always are. I’ve gone out on quests to try and contact her before. That forest was her domain, and it most certainly still is, even if people have changed the geography of it. If we can go there and reach out to her, there’s a very good chance she’ll help us get Lacey’s spirit and bring her back”, he carried on. Michael felt like his head was spinning. Not dizzy, but he certainly didn’t feel right. Michael pushed his food to the middle of the table, an offering for whoever wanted it. He wasn’t hungry anymore- He actually felt nauseous. He didn’t know why- He’d never had an issue with dairy or fried food. The last time he got sick was when his college had an outbreak of covid.

“So you want to go to Ireland, dig Lacey up again, sneak a corpse into another country and contact an ancient death goddess on the off chance that Lacey could be made less dead?” Michael asked. He didn’t think his aunt and uncle were too off their rockers- Grief made people weird. Maybe they were all going nuts, but the more the merrier. Guinevere shrugged.

“We’re not taking her body with us. We’re going there, contacting the Morrigan and assuming she agrees to help us, have her bring Lacey’s spirit where it needs to go, place her back in her physical body and begin the resurrection process.” Guinevere explained to him. That didn’t help them make sense of anything at all.

But they could bring Lacey back. December could be happy again. Michael could see her smile when he said or did something she thought was stupid. She could be there again, be there as a guiding hand because Aimee sure as hell wasn’t. That fact alone trumped anything that could happen, anything that could go wrong. It pushed away the thought that maybe they were all losing it, and that it might not even work.

“We understand if you think it’s too far-fetched, we don’t have a problem going alone  we just-”

“Are we going by plane?” Michael cut Lancelot off. The General and former first knight of Camelot paused and cocked his head in confusion.

“Excuse me?” he asked.

“Are we getting to Ireliand via airtravel, because if we are, I need to order a passport” Michael said. There was an unasked question in there. But he left it to them to decipher.

“Yes, we’re flying. I find it easier to take a boat, but Lancelot gets seasick easily…We have the money to fly two other people set aside. Most of what we make goes into medical expenses and a retirement fund that was supposed to go to Lacey but would now go to you when we die. I’m the only one with a bank account, so I handle my own paycheck as well as Lancelot and Dinadan’s money.” Guinevere explained. Michael nodded, but he wasn’t really listening. He was too busy thinking about who to bring. Isaiah was too old and too logical. Aimee and Noel were out of the question. Victor and Freya were easily debatable, but knowing how scientific they were, he knew they’d scoff. December would love to go. But it would irreversably damage them if Lacey turned out to still be just as dead as she was when the whole quest started. Dinadan would go.

“I don’t think December is a good idea since we don’t know if this is going to work, but I think Dinadan would be able to help us” Michael said. He wasn’t sure why he felt so certain about it.

“I’ll order four tickets, then. I’d get your things ready. It’s best that we leave as soon as possible and keep things on the down low. Most everyone else would have a coniption fit if they found out what we were doing”, Lancelot said. With that, Michael was left alone once again. Guinevere had taken his fries, but he was fine with that- Still a far cry from hungry. He took a drink of his shake only to spit it right back out into the cup. The chocolate had clumped up in the bottom and the icecream had melted. He threw it away and made his way out of the kitchen. Michael kept his head down as he walked.

Isaiah had a lot of paintings in his house- Biblical ones as the man was a devout Catholic. No matter where he looked or what he did, Michael could feel the eyes of the angels following his every move. It was unnerving at the very least. He had lost count of all the times he’d seen Heaven and hell. Of all the times Angels had spoke to him in cryptic tongues and never given him a straight answer about why he was seeing them. Of all the times demons had rattled their chains and told him he should join them, called him ‘commander’ and begged him to ask yahweh to take them back. He could, however, name the times a deity had talked to him. Lilith had given him a tour of Hell in one of his dreams, someone who called himself Yeshua and had holes in his hands had told him his time would come, and a beautiful man with black wings had told him he was lucky. The pain in Michael’s back on either side of his side was now a nonstop throb that he didn’t notice unless he was thinking about it. But when he had those dreams, he woke up feeling like he was being stabbed and he felt a powerful fluttering against his spine when he felt the paintings watching him.

Michael had never seen their eyes move, but he knew the damn things were watching him through the paint and canvasses.

Michael found his knight sitting at the piano again, but he wasn’t playing it. He was kneeling on the bench, gently wiping the keys with a washcloth, a spray bottle of somekind of cleaner on the floor nearby. Cannibal was laying on his right, asleep. He didn’t know how to ask or explain what was happening, so he just started talking.

“Lancelot and Guinevere and I want to go find The Morrigan since there’s a pretty good chance she can bring her back to life and I was wondering if you’d like to come with us”, Michael said it extremely fast. Dinadan turned around slowly, concern written all over his expression. He started for a moment, as though he was attempting to process the information in whatever form he could. A few painful minutes dragged by before his knight finally spoke.

“Sure, when do we leave?” he asked. Michael released a breath he hadn’t been aware was being held captive in his lungs.

“You’re going?!” he exclaimed in shock.

“Lacey may not have been family, but she was my best friend and the most logical, brave person I know. If I can help get her back, I will”. He said. Michael smiled.

“We should probably pack our things. Guinevere wants to leave fast and silently. I just need to get myself a passport and I’ll be ready”, Michael said. His knight nodded. Michael thought it was odd that he was so calm and accepting about suddenly going off to a country he’d never been to (probably), but Michael figured that this was how quests had always been. Leaving home with little to no reason or warning may well have been commonplace for Dinadan.

“Where are we going to go to find this goddess”? Dinadan asked, heading to his room, presumably to pack before he was able to forget.

“Ireland, somewhere called Woodburn forest”, Michael glanced down when a message popped up on his phone.

“Guinevere says not to bring any weapons”.
"We're not the ones she needs to worry about being armed. I've seen Lancelot hide poisonous darts in his ears before".

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Michael hated getting on the phone to handle any legal business. It was tedious at best and he always had to repeat himself what felt like over and over again to get people to listen to him. He got his passport photo taken and the document ordered on a Wednesday. He knew it would take some time. The FBI still had some leads on Haven, and while Michael doubted he was anywhere on their list of priorities, he didn’t want to risk anything. He’d gone to Richmond, Virginia to get it done. His passport didn’t arrive until that Sunday, and he’d forced everyone to practice driving before he considered letting them behind the wheel. Dinadan didn’t
have a
driver’s license, and given the
seizures, Michael wasn’t sure he was allowed to have one. He did know how to drive a vehicle, so if there was an emergency, he probably wouldn’t drive straight into a ditch.

Lancelot was actually a really good driver, which Michael never would have guessed. He used turn signals exactly one hundred feet before stop signs and lights, and he drove at exactly the speed limit. It was a little scary, how precise he was with it. Guinevere wasn’t a bad driver, but it was still terrifying to have her behind the wheel. She drove at at least twice the speed limit, never signaling anywhere, yet somehow didn’t get pulled over once.

It was decided that Michael would drive everyone to JFK International, as well as handle getting a rental car and navigating it out of Dublin since the other three people weren’t used to driving in the city. They would navigate the forest and wooded areas, driving along the primarily country roads. It would be a two-and-a-half-hour drive from Dublin to Woodburn forest, but stops would be made in between to rest and formulate a plan.

The decision had been made to bring Cannibal and Runt. Cannibal would be able to help them out if shit hit the fan, and Runt’s separation anxiety was too severe to be left alone. He’d grown a bit, now around the size of a Great Dane. He couldn’t pass for a dog by any stretch of the imagination, but heavy sleeping meds, a large dog crate, and a dark blanket would do well to conceal him. Smuggling a Wyvern onto a plane was beyond impossible, but according to Victor, they had the strongest sense of smell out of the whole animal kingdom. The decision was made to leave late on a Sunday night, and catch an early Monday morning flight. It left plenty of time for Dinadan and Michael to wander around the airport and come back so Cannibal would be able to follow that scent when the plane took off. No one brought more than a backpack worth of belongings.

Michael was able to fit everything except the sleeping dragon in the trunk of his car. Logic told him it would be easier to drive Lacey’s. There was more room in it- especially if December had thrown out her textbooks. Michael had driven it to get groceries a few times when his car was blocked in the driveway, and it didn’t smell like Lacey anymore. The biggest issue he had was the memories that came with her car. Even that could be repressed to an extent, but those four long claw marks in the paint, so deep that they shredded the metal would never go away.

It wasn’t the fact that they were there that disturbed Michael, it was the fact that he knew exactly what those claws were capable of doing to a person.

Michael got up with an alarm to wake Dinadan and lead him downstairs where Lancelot and Guinevere were waiting. Although he knew everyone would be blowing up his phone in a few hours, Michael felt responsible for leaving a note. An explanation. He was sure Aimee would be furious, but he was used to ignoring her calls. December would probably have to be blocked on everything until he got back.

If we got back,

the pessimistic side of him clarified.

Dear Everyone,

We can’t specify exactly what we’re doing, where we’re going, and why because all of you would be on the next flight to stop us. We’re well aware that leaving on a mission without explicit consent is a firable offense, but it’s a risk all four of us are willing to take. If things work, we’ll be back with a surprise,  and if it doesn’t we’ll come back depressed. As long as nothing goes horribly wrong, we should be back home in less than a month, but if things go horribly wrong,  we’re either dead or in jail. Knowing the company (Lancelot) I keep, it’ll probably be a mix of both.

I owe everyone an explanation, however small, so I’ll say this. I need to know. I need to- I can’t just go on not knowing. Every fiber of logic in me is screaming that I’ve lost it, but this goes way beyond curiosity. I can’t describe it and I don’t want to. Lancelot and Guinevere deserve to try. They’ve lost everything- And of course, some of it’s their own doing- But that doesn’t change the fact that they have lost their home, friends, family, and now their daughter. This was their call, and it might be stupid but it’s one they clearly had to make. Dinadan deserves to see. He doesn’t get enough credit for the shit he put up with from Haven in two separate timelines. He’s lost everyone he loves too. I don’t blame him for wanting to see if he can get just one person back.

Maybe we’re insane but look around. Insanity is woven into the very fabric of what Haven is. And when you look at the state of the world, what we’re doing isn’t that far-fetched in the grand scheme of things.

Sincerely,

Michael, Dinadan, Lancelot, and Guinevere.

Michael’s right headlight burned out halfway to the airport, but thankfully, it was getting light enough that he felt like he could turn them off without running into another vehicle. Finding parking was hell. He was tempted to just park on a sidewalk and deal with the ticket later. It was a little concerning to have three people from a different time and place in a loud, crowded airport, but they seemed to be handling it. Lancelot and Guinevere appeared to be in their own world, talking to one another quietly in a language Michael didn’t recognize at all. Maybe they were used to airports, or at least the general chaos, since they’d been drawn into the future before.

Michael didn’t like it. There was too much going on at once and it was so loud. He could hardly hear himself think and it was nearly impossible to identify anything or anyone that could possibly be a threat. He was convinced the old woman across from him was messing around with a knife until she dropped it and it turned out to be nothing more than a comb. Dinadan appeared to be slightly less than okay, but he wasn’t hyperventilating or unconscious or causing a scene, which was a win with his track record.

When they first got to the airport, his eyes had been darting all around but now to an outsider, he seemed more subdued, his eyes downcast and staring at the scuffed toes of the tennis shoes he was wearing. Michael knew him a little too well, though. He was staring down so no one could see his expression of anxiety, and so he wouldn’t see anyone who might stare. His leg had been bouncing up and down like a jackhammer the whole time and there was a slight shake to his hands as well. When Michael reached for his hand, Dinadan gripped him and didn’t let go.

“Hey, I snagged a bottle of anxiety meds from December’s new office. I don’t know how strong the pills are, but if you need any, I’ve got them. Let’s go get in line”, Michael said. Dinadan nodded, still holding onto his hand. He didn’t mind. The story was that they were a family of four in case anyone in security had a bone to pick, but Michael didn’t mind looking like a couple. Lancelot and Guinevere could easily say he was adopted because anyone with eyes could see that there was no way in hell Michael could be their biological child. Dinadan was even more obviously not related, but a family and their son’s boyfriend going on vacation was believable. They got through everything and onto the plane just fine, the backpacks light enough to be carry-ons. Runt was in a deep sleep in cargo, not waking up for a good while.

Michael wished they’d been given seats closer together, but the rows only had three, so someone would have been displaced anyway. Lacey’s parents were all the way at the back of the plane on the left. Michael and Dinadan had been dumped on the right middle of the plane next to a loud middle-aged man who cleared his throat every few seconds. Dinadan stuck close to the window, still holding Michael’s hand.

Michael leaned over to whisper in his ear.

“You can lift the window up if you feel trapped. I filled up a water bottle at the fountain before we got on, so if you feel like you need medication to calm down, I’ve got it. If it’s too much just keep holding onto me, okay? I’m not going to make you feel scared the whole time. It’s only a six-hour flight”, Michael told him. Dinadan nodded, actually managing to let go of his arm.

Everything, even seatbelts, and takeoff went fine, but as the plane rose up to full altitude over the Atlantic, they hit a little turbulence. Thankfully, Dinadan didn’t scream, but he gasped and flinched- his breath beginning to pick up. It caused Michael to panic for a brief moment as well. He’d never flown before, either. The difference was that he knew what to expect. It didn’t last long, but it was a little violent. Michael lifted his hand and started to run a hand up and down his spine. He doubted it was helpful, but it was better than just sitting there watching him panic.

“Danny, do you think you need your medication?” Michael asked him, not expecting a clear response. He nodded. Michael made quick work of digging out the pill bottle and water. He could feel the man next to him staring.

It was only twenty milligrams, so Michael made the decision to give him two pills and see how it went. Dinadan muttered an apology, laying his head on Michael’s shoulder and hiding his face from their surroundings.

“That was just some turbulence. It happens sometimes, especially when planes take off and land. It would have to be a lot worse for the plane to go down, I promise.” Michael said, keeping his voice low and soft. Slowly, he reached up and wrapped his arm around his shoulders. It wasn’t that strange, since they were dating, in theory. Michael didn’t really know what to call their relationship. Yes, they were courting, but they’d neither one called it a relationship out loud. There had been no kissing or anything, but to the eyes of everyone- they looked like they were dating.

“I’m sorry for staring, kid. I’m a nurse, I was just worried about your partner here. He seemed like he was on the brink of passing out for a minute”, the man next to him said. Michael smiled with both gratitude and relief that there was no judgment as he’d suspected.

“No. It was just some anxiety over the turbulence, my boyfriend hasn’t ever flown before”, Michael said. The word slipped out, surprising even him.

“Boyfriend?” Dinadan asked him in a whisper. Michael felt his face heat up.

“If you’d like to be”, he said, his voice pitching up a little higher.

“I would”.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

The plane touched down just as it started raining outside. The storm clouds had been visible when they got down to just about a half hour being left in the flight. A near-torrential downpour had started just as they started to land. The flight had been easy. The nurse next to him had started talking about his family- Giving Michael something to pay attention to instead of sitting there staring off into space and twiddling his thumbs. Dinadan stayed close to him. Sometimes Michael would look down at his knight-no, boyfriend- and see his gray eyes watching him as he talked. But for the most part, he just drifted in and out of slumber.

“Let’s wait until my aunt and uncle get to us”, Michael said to Dinadan, who was still half asleep against his shoulder. His boyfriend just nodded and shifted so his bag was slung over his shoulder. Lancelot and Guinevere seemed like they had the same idea, as they didn’t come up until nearly everyone else was off of the plane. It looked like they’d drugged themselves to sleep as well. They had dark circles under their eyes and their hair was in disarray.

“You didn’t take the weather into consideration, did you?” Michael found himself asking his uncle. It was spring, but Michael hadn’t thought to bring anything for rainy weather. He only brought one jacket, and so had Dinadan. Lancelot shook his head, pressing his lips into a thin line the way he did when he knew he’d screwed up.

“Fantastic…so now we’re going to have to make a mad dash for the terminal and see if any shops in there have umbrellas or ponchos. If we absolutely have to, we can just wait out the storm. I have to see how far the nearest car rental shop is anyway. If we can’t walk we’re going to have to get a cab. How much money do we have set aside for this- I pitched in with six hundred”? Michael asked, following the group off the plane- At the back of their line. The conversation paused briefly as they took off toward the terminal. The clouds were a dark grey- With a green tint to them. It was how the clouds back in the U. S. looked before the tornado sirens went off. The rain was coming down in sheets and it was being blown sideways by violent winds. They were soaked by the time they got inside.

“I took four hundred dollars out of the bank account I set up for Dinadan. Lancelot and I both pitched in two thousand dollars. That’s five thousand to get us through this, but we’re down to 4500 because of the plane tickets.” Guinevere told him. Michael nodded. They’d be okay as long as no one got arrested.

Michael squinted out the window to see the rain still coming down hard. Lancelot seemed to have the same thought as Michael because Arthur’s champion tapped his pockets like he was making sure he had his wallet and then stalked off toward the shops to find gear that could protect them from the rain. Guinevere’s phone buzzed with a notification.

“There’s a tornado on the ground in Malahide. That’s only about twenty minutes out of the way. It’s headed east, but we should probably stay until this clears up.”, she said. Michael glanced down at his phone. He had a lot of missed calls that he immediately erased. He deleted the voicemails as well. Aimee sent him a paragraph about safety that he skimmed over. Noel had messaged him on Snapchat saying that December was crying and Freya thought he was insane. December seemed to have had civility talked into them because aside from unfollowing his TikTok like they did when they were mad at him and the voicemails, they only texted him once.

Don’t add to the population, don’t subtract from the population, and don’t make me bail you out of jail

“I’m going to call Lancelot and let him know that he doesn’t need to hunt down any rain gear,” Guinevere said, stepping away from the group to talk to her husband in privacy. Michael found himself doing a double-take.

“Lancelot has a phone?” he asked, surprised.

“Yeah, but he doesn’t like using it. He’ll talk to me and Aimee on it and listen to music, but that’s it”, she said. Michael turned to his boyfriend.

“You don’t have a phone, do you?” he asked.

“No. Victor said something about changing his plan and getting new devices. He told me he’s going to give me his old phone when he gets the new one”, he said with a shrug. Michael shook his head. He remembered something about it now.

Michael got on his phone again and looked up rental services. Thunder rumbled up ahead, causing him to flinch a bit. The storm was right above them now, and he could see much less menacing clouds that were going to blow in soon, so at least they were safe from the tornado. It had more likely than not dissipated.

“Alright. There’s a rental service about three blocks from here, we’re going to be able to walk”, Michael said. Lancelot and Guinevere made their way back not long afterward.

“Once the rain lets up, we can walk to get the car. It’s only about three blocks away.” Michael told them. Dinadan was more alert now, the medication he took on the plane starting to wear off now.

“Okay. The storm isn’t going to pass for much longer. What do you guys want to eat?” Guinevere asked. The restaurants and snack stations were far on the other side of the terminal. Michael couldn’t see where they were, but he could smell that they were somewhere general to his right.

“Uh…hotdog is fine”, Michael said. He was trying to think of something to respond to December with. He knew he’d feel terrible if he left them without an answer, but he also wasn’t going to tell them where he went. They’d all deleted their tracking apps for a reason. He nudged Dinadan in the side to get his attention. He’d been spaced out.

“Whatever won’t make me sick”, his boyfriend muttered. They had stopped and gotten pancakes at a diner before getting on the plane, and they proceeded to have to make another stop because as it turned out, Dinadan couldn’t eat things that had been exposed to fryer oil. He wasn’t limited to bread, corn, and lettuce anymore but there were still very few things he was able to eat without either feeling ill or actually getting sick.

“Well they only have fast food places, so your best bet is probably cheese fries or chicken nuggets”, Lancelot said. Dinadan shrugged.

“Chicken nuggets, please”, he said. Michael waited until the couple was out of sight before he said anything to his boyfriend.

“Are you alright?” he asked. Dinadan was more closed off than usual and he kept making strange motions with his hands. Bending his fingers backward and sideways and then switching hands to just do the same over and over again. Michael did things similarly when he was extremely uncomfortable, but he’d learned to conceal it in public. Lacey had done research into ADHD when he was diagnosed, and she always said that his trying to act just like everyone else in public was called “masking”. If December’s theory about Dinadan’s autism was correct, then he was just stimming and didn’t know how to mask.

“Just loud, and the pills you gave me on the plane were really strong. And also I just…I feel like I’m going to pass out. It’s a real lightheadedness, though. It’s not like when I faint after seizures”, he said, trying to explain to the best of his ability. Michael nodded, trying to ignore the worry that was beginning to build up in his chest.

“Okay just….For now, just lay down and see if that helps. If that doesn’t work, hopefully, you’ll feel better after you eat.” Michael told him. It wasn’t all that helpful, he was sure. Once again, it was better than Michael having absolutely nothing to offer him. He was beginning to wonder if he should ask December about Dinadan’s file or even sneak into their office and take it for the sake of trying to help him. The fainting absolutely fell in line with his seizures but the light-headed feeling wasn’t something that went along with it. Michael was almost positive that his boyfriend had low blood sugar, low iron, or POTS.

But perhaps he was just malnourished because of the dietary choices his immune system practically forced him to make.

Michael slid out of his seat and onto the terminal floor, despite what the clean freak in him said about germs and such. He turned and guided Dinadan to the floor as gently as he could. His boyfriend sunk to his knees before slouching over and resting his head on Michael’s thigh. Michael did not trust a certain appendage by any stretch of the imagination, so he focused more energy than he’d ever like to admit to into focusing on not being aroused.

Heavy footsteps could be heard approaching and Michael snapped his head up only to see a security guard approaching. She was relatively young with dark hair in box braids that went down to her waist. She had a nametag, but the bright fluorescents glinting off it made it impossible for him to read it from where she was standing. Michael unconsciously wrapped an arm around Dinadan’s chest and laid his other hand on his head. Protective.

“Are you kids okay?” she asked, her eyes looking down at his boyfriend.

Gay marriage is legal here but I probably should have looked up if people here are super homophobic or not,

he thought to himself. Michael took his eyes off his boyfriend to look at the security guard.

“Yes. My boyfriend has a fainting disorder. Laying down helps him feel less light-headed. My aunt and uncle went to get food so he’ll be alright. This happens a lot”, Michael told her. He had a feeling it was one of the only times he’d be able to tell the truth in Ireland without getting himself locked in a jail cell or a psych ward. The security guard nodded, not thinking anything about what Michael was saying.

“Do you need water, or a soda, or anything while you wait for your guardians?” she asked. Michael wasn’t a child, and he had never thought he looked like it. He figured people assumed he was a child because the people he was around looked younger than they were. Michael shook his head but gave her a grateful smile.

“No, you shouldn’t have to buy us anything and frankly, carbonated drinks just make the nausea worse, even if they do have sugar. Thank you for checking on us, ma’am”, he said. Michael nearly breathed a sigh of relief when she finally turned to walk away.

“Just holler if you need help”, she said, at last walking away. It didn’t take much longer for him to see Lancelot and Guinevere approaching. Lancelot was carrying a dark paper bag, and when he got a little closer, Michael was able to see grease stains on it. Usually, he’d be grossed out, but he was starving. Guinevere was carrying Runt’s pet carrier, the dark blanket covering everything but one of his legs. From a distance, it just looked like an animal with some kind of skin infection. You’d have to get really close to his cage to see that he wasn’t a normal animal.

“Runt is still out cold. I’m going to put a few stickers on there so people think he’s a service dog. That way we’ll be able to get him in and out of hotels. Is everything okay?” she asked, her eyes falling on Dinadan.

“I feel like I’m going to pass out. Michael had me lie down. It’s not doing much, so hopefully, the feeling goes away after I eat.” his boyfriend said. It startled Michael a bit. Dinadan had been so still and quiet that he’d been sure he had fallen asleep, or was at least in the process of it.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Even after the rain cleared up around three o clock, Guinevere made the executive decision (told Lancelot to shut up when he attempted to say otherwise) that they were going to stay until Dinadan was no longer a fall risk. The fact that Dinadan was always a fall risk went entirely unsaid. His boyfriend (They were going to have to talk about that) perked up somewhat after he ate and had something of sustenance, however salty, in his system. He still seemed light-headed, so Michael had bought an orange juice and made him drink that. He was still a bit out of it by the time they decided to leave and go get a rental car, but that had more to do with the fact that Runt was starting to move around in his kennel.

Michael held onto Dinadan’s arm as they walked to the rental shop. In Michael’s mind, Ireland had been rolling hills and rivers. Full of sunshine and folktales with winding dirt roads taking people from one end of the country to another around mountain peaks and into deep valleys. But what he’d seen of Ireland was stormy (Google said tornadoes weren’t

that

common in Europe). It was also a bustling metropolis in Dublin. Parks of painted green grass, skyscrapers, and angry drivers blaring their horns in traffic that rivaled Baltimore’s. The shop was on a road full of restaurants advertising themselves as traditional Irish Pubs and buildings with blacked-out windows that were more likely than not strip clubs.

It featured a large parking lot with a big white sign reading “Ciosanna” in neon green lettering. Underneath in smaller black print, it read “rentals- Prices vary’. Michael knew Dublin was a tourist center, and a good thing, too. It meant most of the locals would speak English to a degree, which worked out in his favor because he didn’t speak Irish. Maybe his time-traveling “family” did but on the off chance that they didn’t, it was good. The parking lot was full of cars, smaller than most in America (bigger is better) but the same makes and models. Toyotas, Kias, Nissans, and even a few dodge pickup trucks.

The building was one story but it seemed to go pretty far back into an area of the parking lot Michael couldn’t see. It was on the roof and trim, but was all big glass windows for the most part. Inside, it smelt of rubber and bleach, their shoes squeaking on the grey tile floor. A few people who were clearly tourists were scattered about talking to the employees at polished wooden desks, typing away at expensive-looking desktops. A family of five- Parents and older son and two kids running around playing. An old couple steadying themselves on their canes.

Michael led the group up to an unoccupied desk, and the man behind it immediately looked up. He looked to be in his fifties, with wispy grey hair and a face that looked both young and old at the same time.

“How can I help you?” he asked in English, although his accent was quite thick. Lancelot stepped forward.

“My family and I are looking to rent a vehicle for our vacation. We’re going to be here all month long. We’re celebrating Michael’s graduation”, he said, speaking in a forced English accent and roughly patting him on the back. It was strange to see that, but being a good actor seemed to be a skill anyone who set foot in Haven needed to possess. The elderly man smiled at him.

“What type of vehicle are you looking for?” the secretary asked. Lancelot shrugged, giving Michael a side-eye that said “help me”. He shook his head.

“Anything able to transport the five of us and keep a tank of gas”, he said with a shrug.

“Five?” the man asked, glancing up at them. Guinevere had stayed outside with the kennel since Runt was starting to wake up. If anyone heard him chirping it would become glaringly obvious that he wasn’t a dog.

“Myself, my wife, our nephew, his boyfriend, and our dog”, Lancelot said. That was a part of their cover story, but a background story would have to be made up on the spot as Lancelot was doing now. The secretary did some more typing.

“Alright, I’ll need your name and date of birth. I also need it for everyone coming along with you. We need to keep track of these things in the event that the rental is damaged or involved in a crash, or stolen.,” he said.

“Lance Du Lac, July Nineteenth nineteen eighty-six”, he said at the drop of a hat. The secretary chuckled, typing in the information, but looking around the screen at Michael’s uncle.

“

Lance Du Lac?”

he asked with a disbelieving tone. Lancelot shrugged and smiled but Michael could tell it was fake.

“My parents thought it was funny. Forgot they were naming a real person”, he said.

“And your wife?”

“Jennifer Du Lac. March sixth nineteen eighty-eight.” he said. The secretary looked at Michael, but he had spaced out a little. He didn’t notice he’d been prompted until the man cleared his throat and caused Michael to jump. The man had unnaturally dark brown eyes- It almost looked like they were black and it felt like he was staring into Michael’s soul.

“Oh, Michael Du Lac. Valentine’s day, two thousand and three,” he said. The secretary gave a smile.

“Double the gifts, eh?” he asked. Michael smiled and nodded. He’d only ever got birthday presents on Valentine’s day- Had never been in a relationship, but he wasn’t about to tell this stranger something like that.

“Daniel Black”, Dinadan answered when the secretary glanced at him. He hummed and typed some more.

“Now I need the dog’s name and breed if he chews up any of the interior of the rental or anything like that”, he said.

“Runt. He’s some kind of a mix. He was a stray when my aunt found him so we don’t quite know what he is”, Michael said. The secretary hummed.

“Is he a small, medium, or large dog”? He asked.

“Very large”, Dinadan said quickly. He’d been tackled by Runt one too many times. The secretary pressed a few more keys before a printer ejected two pieces of paper that he stapled together.

“Alright, I can set you up with a van or a truck. The van is going to be about a hundred seventy-five U.S. dollars and smaller. The truck is going to be about two hundred and fifty U.S. dollars but it has more room. We charge the fee weekly and we do not include gas or roadside maintenance in that price.” The secretary said. Lancelot shared a look with Michael. He could tell they were thinking the same thing. Runt was having a bit of a growth-spurt, they’d be coming home carrying more things than what they left with and Cannibal couldn’t just fly and walk. Although he’d done pretty well. Michael had been able to see the Wyvern’s faint shadow fly overhead while they were walking to the rental shop.

“We can take the truck,” Lancelot said. The secretary walked into the back of the building and disappeared around a corner. Michael turned to his uncle.

“I’m going to drive us to an inn around a smaller town so Cannibal can rest. If you can deal with the rest of this then we should be okay. I have to do the city driving, though”, he said. Michael wanted someone to man the GPS but he’d have to deal with it just going through the speakers. Guinevere had to deal with Runt, Lancelot had to deal with people, and Dinadan couldn’t read well enough to give Michael accurate directions.

“Don’t forget to drive on the other side of the road”, he said, teasing. Michael rolled his eyes, having long since learned that punching Lancelot in the arm was a very bad idea. There was an inn located within a relatively small village just a forty-minute drive away from the rental shop they were currently at. Michael put the name into his GPS and got back into his messenger app. He finally knew what he was going to say to December.

He could easily text them a simple ‘okay’ or ‘Ill” try, but that wouldn’t stop them from losing their shit.

This is for everyone’s good.

The secretary came around the corner spinning a key around his finger. The three men followed him outside to a white ford with five seats and a toolbox in the back of it.

“It gets about a hundred seventeen kilometers on one gallon of gas. Have fun on your trip”, he said. Lancelot heaved a sigh of relief as soon as the man was gone. Michael couldn’t help but chuckle at it. People were indeed exhausting.

“Gods, that man was annoying”, he hissed, opening the rear driver’s side door.

“You probably shouldn’t curse the gods if we’re here trying to get the attention of one”, Michael pointed out, only half joking. Guinevere came up still carrying the pet carrier. Small huffs and the occasional growl could be heard inside the kennel.

“He’s getting restless. I can’t leave him inside much longer. Are there any cameras pointing at us?” she asked, setting Runt’s crate down. Michael scanned the building and didn’t find anything.

“I don’t see any but that doesn’t mean anything. I think it’ll be okay if you keep most of that blanket on him”, Michael said, tossing his aunt’s bag into the bed of the truck for her. It probably wasn’t the best place to put their belongings, especially if the weather spelled rain, but it was going to get cramped as hell in the truck cab. Michael already hated driving trucks- They were so big and bulky- He didn’t want any extra stress or distractions.

“Block me from the building just in case”, she said, opening the door. Michael got between his aunt and the rental shop as she unlocked the crate. Immediately, Runt tried to walk out, rising to his full height of about two and a half feet at the shoulder, with the blanket still over most of his body. His scales had darkened to near black as he’d gotten older, but his eyes were now a bright shade of yellow. With little more than a grunt, Guinevere lifted the juvenile Draco into the truck.

“Holy hell!” Michael exclaimed. He knew she’d been trained to fight and got involved in battles, but he hadn’t expected her to be so strong. Runt was heavy- Michael had been jumped on plenty of times.

“You drag the man you love and your husband off of enough battlefields and it starts getting easy”, his aunt said, waving a dismissive hand. Michael didn’t bother to question it.

Michael opened the passenger side door for his boyfriend. Dinadan climbed in with a smile and a faint blush beginning to form on his face. He was still getting used to Michael being so courtly with him. It was a bit of a role reversal, even though he said that he’d never been in a relationship with anyone before. Michael quickly discovered that the truck was quite loud. Despite that, it rode pretty smoothly, even though he still felt like he was driving something twice the size of a car. It felt strange to drive on the opposite side of the road than he was used to.

The four of them set off with Dinadan humming songs that he only knew half the words to, Lancelot with his head out the window, Runt screeching, Guinevere staring at the floor pretending to be anywhere else, and the GPS making Michael contemplate stabbing himself in the ears.

But if it meant they’d get Lacey back, he could cope, and he gladly would.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

The Murphy inn was small and looked like it was packed, but it was the closest one they’d been able to find that wasn’t in a city. There had been two others, but one was burned down when they got there and the other had three stars, with every review mentioning rats and mice. Michael just hoped this one had space for them.

The inside was homey. It was a wooden structure with a high ceiling despite the building being one story. A black chandelier hung down with glittering diamonds on it. The windows were large and framed by silky white curtains. The floor was wooden as well, but it was blanketed by plush rugs. The air inside was warm as a fire roared in the hearth on the opposite side of the room from the front desk. It smelled densely of smoke and spices he couldn’t quite name.

“Boys”, Guinevere called from the front desk where she was getting everyone checked in. Runt was in his kennel again, not medicated but the ride had luckily made the Draco tired, so he wasn’t making any noise. He didn’t know where they came from, but there were now service dog stickers on the pet carrier.

Michael looked up from where he’d been taking in his surroundings. Lancelot was standing partially in front of the kennel to keep Runt hidden from view and Dinadan was seated on one of the couches staring down at the floor.

“Do you two mind sharing a bed? They have pretty limited space”, she said. Michael looked over at his boyfriend. Dinadan’s eyes were already on his. Despite the fact that his eyes were nothing more than the shade of pavement or gravel, Michael thought his eyes were beautiful, often finding himself lost in them. Dinadan shrugged faintly.

Michael nodded to his aunt, and she tossed him a brass key that he nearly dropped. The little green keychain attached to it read R-87. After making sure that Dinadan had grabbed both their bags, Michael started to walk back to the room. The inn was strange- In the shape of a horseshoe with small hallways sticking out to the side every five rooms. Room 87 was right in the curvature of the horseshoe shape.

Michael hoped that there wasn’t just one bed. That was a fanfiction trope just waiting to happen. A couch or recliner would be nice, but Michael didn’t mind sleeping in a regular old chair. He had plenty of experience falling asleep in the hard chairs while he was not paying attention in his Algebra classes. Sharing a bed wouldn’t be the end of the world, but it would be awkward- And there was bound to be a scuffle over who was going in the bed and who would sleep on the floor if there wasn’t any other furniture.

He’d slept in the same bed as Dinadan, but it just wasn’t something they ever did on the regular. It happened three times. Once because Dinadan was in sensory overload and again when he’d had a really bad panic attack. The only other time was one Michael had a very disturbing vision-dream. Other than that, they had been separated.

“So…If you were being serious on the plane, we’re boyfriends now”, Michael said as they stepped inside. One bed and nothing else save for a stand with a flatscreen TV on it. Fantastic. Dinadan still had an awkward air to him. He blushed, looking down at the ground. It was always obvious with him. Michael had to blush pretty hard for it to be noticeable through his complexion.

“I do…Want to be with you- Close with you like that…” Dinadan said. Michael was able to understand and see where he was coming from, but someone who wasn’t neurodivergent as well probably would have struggled to comprehend what he meant. Michael nodded, sitting on the edge of the bed. The mattress sunk under his weight, the purple comforter nothing short of irritating on his skin. At that rate, they’d both end up sleeping on the floor. It would be preferable.

“Do you understand what it means when people say they’re boyfriends?” Michael asked him. Dinadan wasn’t stupid by any means, but there were a lot of modern words and phrases he still struggled to understand. Dinadan shrugged.

“Sort of, but I’d like you to explain it to me anyway if you wouldn’t mind,” Dinadan said, sounding as though he was embarrassed. Perhaps he was wrong, but Michael swore that he had the same effect on Dinadan that his knight had on him. Impossible to lie to or hide things from.

“It’s a way of officially recognizing that you are courting. If I were to call you my boyfriend, I would be identifying you as my partner. Calling someone your partner, boyfriend, or girlfriend is sort of a way to claim someone as yours. But it’s also a consent thing. I wouldn’t mind it at all if you called me your boyfriend, but it won’t be fair- for lack of a better word- for me to call you my boyfriend if you don’t want to be. Other than that though, we would just carry on courting as we have been. Go at our own pace and advancing when we need to if we were to stay in a relationship. Someday down the road, one of us might propose”, Michael said. Up until that point, Dinadan had been nodding in understanding, but now he looked up with a confused expression.

“What’s a propose?” he asked. Michael chuckled. It made sense. Lancelot and Guinevere had the paperwork showing that they had married each other, and they actually did have a wedding when they were in the twentieth century. Victor and Freya’s last wedding had been in the nineties. Noel had a wife but it seemed to be a sore subject- Not to mention that nobody had actually met her. Aimee didn’t date. It made sense that Dinadan wouldn’t know that coming from a time of forced marriages and arrangements and fathers selling their daughters to the highest bidder.

“It means we would get engaged- or prepared to get married- when we were ready. The tradition today is to get a ring and ask your boyfriend to marry you. If he says yes, you put it on his ring finger and then start setting up the wedding. And of course, you know what marriage is- Eternally bound to another person on the deepest level” Michael explained to the best of his ability. Dinadan nodded again. He wasn’t nonverbal, but he was in one of those moods or states where he just didn’t talk unless he absolutely had to.

“I wouldn’t mind being your boyfriend,” he said. He didn’t elaborate, and Michael couldn’t help but feel like he was being told off even though he knew better.

“I wouldn’t mind being yours”, Michael told his knight-no, boyfriend. A sudden look of horror crossed Dinadan’s face and he pulled his hair back.

“Michael, I think I was engaged before I came to this time”, he said, catching Michael completely off guard. His mind was racing. Dinadan said he’d never confessed to anyone before- Had never been in a relationship. Maybe he could lie to Michael after all.

“How? I- You’re gay! That wasn’t legal back then!” he found himself exclaiming in shock, and despite how serious Michael felt the situation was, Dinadan suddenly leaned over laughing so hard it bordered on cackling, holding his ribcage. It made a smile sprout on the corners of Michael’s lips even though he didn’t find anything about the current situation funny.

“It was an arranged marriage- Calm down. Arthur had just started setting us up when I got dragged through- I can’t even remember her name! And for the record I’m bisexual and also, people in Camelot tended to turn a blind eye, thank you very much”, he said. His attempt at sounding defensive wasn’t working very well.

“Oh, you had me scared”, Michael said, placing a hand on his chest. He could feel his heart racing.

“Michael, I hope you know I love you. I’m not the best at showing it and I’m miserable at articulating things, but I do. You are so much more than simply being the day to my night, the water to my fire, or the words to my song. You are my world, Michael. You fill the gaps between the stars in the sky. If I am the tail of a coin, you are the head- my other half. If I am Greece, you are Helen. If you are Hades, you are Persephone. If we are soldiers, I am the Patroclus to your Achilles and should we be lovers, you are the Adonis to my Venus. I am not whole without you. I am hardly alive without you. I did not truly live until our paths were forced into one another”

Dinadan, for once, was poetic without the use of pen and paper. This was not something rehearsed, but something that came from both his heart and soul without being edited or polished. And somehow, it was beautiful that way. Perfect in its flaws- Not that Michael could find any

For some time, Michael couldn’t speak. Could hardly say a word. His mouth was hanging open, but it felt like he couldn’t force his systems into working together. His brain couldn’t seem to tell his jaw to stop making him look stupid and shut. Instead, Michael found himself speaking even though he hadn’t thought anything out.

“I love you and I’ve never been good with words, so please don’t laugh too hard if I make a fool out of myself. If you were a piece of paper, I’d want to be the ink. If you were royalty, I would be the first knight laying my life on the line for you. If I’m your other half I’m glad because I don’t think I could live without you now that I know you. I need you the way a rocket needs fuel. I need you the way a guitar needs strings. I need you the way my uncle needs a therapist. And to top it all off- I

want

you Dinadan. I want you to be mine until the end of the world or until we stop being good for each other. Damn it, I love you more than I have ever loved anyone before and I have been

terrified

that you weren’t going to feel the same”, Michael found himself confessing. He felt out of breath, as though he had run a marathon. Dinadan was looking at him with an unreadable expression before a smile suddenly broke out across his boyfriend’s face.

“‘Fear not for I bring tidings of great joy”’, he said, quoting the Josh Ritter song that had been stuck in Michael’s head lately. He walked around singing it and Dinadan had clearly picked up the lyrics. Michael found himself laughing as well.

“I hate you, come here”, he said, not meaning the hate part and trying to speak through his laughter. Dinadan composed himself enough that Michael didn’t bust out laughing again upon seeing his face and took a small, tentative step, and then another. His warm, trembling hands rested on Michael’s shoulders and he touched his arm, the other hovering near Dinadan’s face. He wasn’t quite sure what he was to do with it. Michael stepped forward to meet Dinadan in the middle, closing his eyes as he started to lean down.

Michael promptly snapped his eyes open as Dinadan went limp under his hands and seemed to collapse forward onto Michael’s chest, unconscious. Michael assumed there were worse ways for that moment to have been interrupted. The world could have ended. The fire alarm could have gone off, someone could have barged into the room.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Michael tended to find himself in the white place when he closed his eyes and when he slept. He knew no peace from the place that most certainly wasn’t part of Earth but he didn’t really want to call Heaven. Two angels stood across from him. One possessed a human body with a head, torso, and four limbs, but it was hidden behind a haze, and unlike the other angels, this one did not possess wings or multiple faces, or even the rings of seemingly all-seeing eyes. It seemed suspiciously Human were it not for the great size.

It stood tall- taller than anyone or anything Michael had seen. Taller and wider than most buildings. Next to him was a man- The only thing in this dream world of Michael’s that resembled a Human Being. He was tan and dressed in white robes with curly black hair and a beard- His eyes an impossibly bright shade of blue. His name was Yeshua- which translated to Joshua but somewhere along the line of History and reprinting had become Jesus.

December would be amazed.

At his right side stood something that resembled Gabri’hel, or Gabriel but was clearly a different person. He stood at around six and a half feet tall, with a wingspan reaching around twenty feet. Michael couldn't see the man’s face, as there was an impossibly red fog around him, but he could see the tips of his white feathered wings that appeared to be glowing. Gold-yellow eyes were shining through the fog and white hair could be seen blowing in the invisible wind.

They were looking out and talking quietly-Arguing. Michael didn’t know Hebrew but he understood what they were saying nonetheless.

Beyond the white world where pathways of gold rested and colors that didn’t exist in the natural world were everywhere, was the dark place that Lillith showed him. It wasn’t pitch black and filled with shadows. It was somehow a darker black than what existed on earth, yet was also nothing at all. The places that weren’t dark were glowing blue with sulfur flames and on a hill of jagged rocks and blue lava sat what appeared to be a castle made of wrought iron and silver. People screamed and chains rattled, but nothing out there in Gehenna seemed aware of the three things observing.

“Why would you create that?” the man at the side of the building-like deity asked. He was speaking in Hebrew, but Michael had no trouble understanding it. What was all the more unsettling was that it was his own voice even though Michael knew he hadn’t said anything.

“They must be punished for their sins Mihk’hel.” the deity’s voice came like a whisper, nothing more than an exhale even though it was far stronger and more powerful than that let on.

“For all eternity? You had me fight Lucifer for telling you how egotistical you were now what? Why would you create such a place for people who did not even commit terrible deeds? Gehenna should be for rapists and cold-blooded killers. It shouldn’t be for children who steal bread from their mother’s pouches and men who lie to protect their wives”, the angel protested. The Angel’s knees bowed and he groaned in pain, choking. Michael felt as though there was a hand wrapped around his throat even though he felt nothing when he slapped at what he swore was an arm or a hand. Just as quickly as he felt the sensation it was gone.

“Do not question my ways, Angel. I made my right hand as a loyal servant. First, you defend people who do not even worship me, then you lay with another angel- A man, I might remind you- and now you question my authority and my ways. Are you not proud of your position as one of my Archangels?” The Diety asked. Something in the back of Michael’s mind told him it was Ywhw.

December and Freya’s god.

“What if your ways are wrong Yaweh?  The other gods whisper of your ego and your iron fist. I cannot dispute them.” the angel said. With a massive gust of impossibly hot wind, Michael saw the Angel fall to his knees and was pushed back as well.

“That is it! Mikha’el- When you were made my advisor, it was not to critique me or try to run things the way you want to. You are not a god by any stretch of the imagination- Do not act like one. Get out! The choice is yours- Consider it mercy. You may be reborn into the body of a child that was destined to be stillborn and have no clue where or what time period you will find yourself in, or you can transform into a demon and help your old friend torture the monsters you claim are innocent”.

Michael didn’t hear what the Angel said, because suddenly it was dark and tight and hot and he blinked only to find himself in the corner of a hospital room. He tried to step away and give the bustling nurses space but found that he was frozen. The room was crowded with medical professionals and a middle-eastern woman with terrified eyes and a round belly lay in the bed with her legs in stirrups. And suddenly one of the nurses was talking in English and Michael was able to begin putting the confusing jagged pieces together.

“Amani, I know this is stressful, but your baby’s heart rate is getting a little high, we need you to give a strong push, okay?” a nurse kneeling on the ground told her.

“Samara, her heart rate is high too, and her blood pressure and all her vitals, really. We need to take her in for a Ceserian”, a male doctor with thick glasses said. Amani screamed, a squiggly line showing on the screen of a nearby monitor.

“No…You will not cut me open!” she screamed. Blood was pooling on the floor- A lot of it. The room was filled with beeping.

“Baby is in cardiac distress”, a nurse reported. Amani- his mother- was whimpering in the hospital bed. Michael had never seen pictures of her before, but he was now positive she lied about her age when she immigrated because his birth certificate said she had him at eighteen. There was no way the woman in this bed was older than fifteen.

“One last push, Amani”, the nurse on the floor told her. His mother screamed, and the scene dissolved into utter chaos followed by silence. And then the ring of the heart monitor flatlining filled the room and was then quickly drowned out by an infant’s cries.

“Time of death, 1:12 PM, Valentine’s Day two thousand and three.” a doctor reported.

“Time of birth 1:10 PM, February fourteenth, two thousand and three”.

Michael found himself standing in a dark, dirty room next. A baby crying hysterically in a crib in the center of the room. Once again, he found that he couldn’t move. The door opened, and to Michael’s shock and horror, Lacey was there. It wasn’t his thirty-year-old sister who died for him. It was Lacey when they first met. A short stocky girl of twelve with wire glasses too big for her face and shoulder-length hair worn in a chunky braid. Lacey leaned down and lifted the crying bundle, which quickly ceased once she had the baby in her arms and was hushing it.

“It’s okay. I know they are not good parents- They really shouldn’t be allowed to have kids, but I’m going to take care of you- I promise”.

And boy, had she kept it.

Michael woke up with a scream. He tried to sit up and escape whatever the hell just went on in his head, but found that two arms were holding him down, pinning him to a lumpy, uncomfortable mattress. He felt his breathing and heart slowing down as the room of the inn came into focus. Dinadan was ontop of him. That was the first coherent thought in Michael’s brain. Dinadan was straddling his waist and had him pinned to the bed. But that didn’t have the effect it usually did on Michael. Instead, he felt worried and guilty seeing the fear on his boyfriend’s face, feeling the shake in his hands. Michael was burning up and his back hurt. This time he could identify it.

There was pressure and it was coming from inside and it was on either side of his spine. His mind seemed to supply the answer well enough. Wings. He was an angel. A former Archangel or the Abrahamic god and his wings were back, trapped under his skin. It made him want to throw up.

אני המלאך מיכאל, והרווחתי את כנפי פעם נוספת”.* he said, as though he could not yet speak English. Michael knew precisely what he said, which was so very confusing because he didn’t know Hebrew, nor did he speak it. And there he was. Dinadan’s eyes glinted with what looked like tears. He was still holding onto his arms really tight, so Michael couldn’t reach up to touch him.

“Michael, what the hell?” he asked and repeated that question again in Welsh this time. Dinadan didn’t stop holding onto his arms, but he did release the pressure. He was shaking all over, Michael could see it in his hands, and feel it in his legs where they straddled his waist.

“It’s true…My visions, they aren’t hallucinations or whatever. I…I am being visited by angels and demons. Dinadan, when I go to sleep, I go to Heaven and Hell and I…” he trailed off, covering his face with his hands. Dinadan let up on his arms, lifting his hands to the point that he was just sitting on Michael’s lap, which would be all kinds of both awkward and sexy were it not for what was going on at the moment.

“Michael, what are you getting at?” he asked, his voice trembling with fear. Michael felt terrible both mentally and physically.

“I am the Archangel Michael of the Abrahamic Pantheon. I was cast down for having sex with another male angel and questioning Yaweh’s choices. He said I could be transformed into a demon or reincarnated as a human, and I guess I chose the latter because here I am”, he said. Dinadan’s eyes were big and frightened, and Michael could feel himself trembling a bit despite the fact that he was covered head to toe in a cold sweat- He was drenched in places he didn’t know the human body could sweat from.

“Oh my gods…” his boyfriend whispered, trembling hands coming up to cover his mouth. There was an unspoken question of ‘what the hell do we do now? What does a person do to handle this information?’ No answers seemed to exist.

“Are…Are you okay, Dina”? He asked, not aware of the nickname he was using. With no warning, Dinadan’s eyes pooled over with tears and he collapsed forward with a sob, burying his head in Michael’s chest and wrapping his trembling arms around his neck. His own fear over the whole being a fallen angel thing and was replaced by fear of why Dinadan was acting like that.

“You stopped breathing”, his knight whispered, like he was scared to say it any louder. Michael found himself laying a hand on his head, where he had of course put his ear right ontop of Michael’s heart. He let the other touch his shirt, weighing the consequences in his mind before he slid his hand up under the fabric to gently scrape his nails over Dinadan’s back.

“You stopped breathing and you had your eyes open but they were all white because they had rolled really far back in your head. You kept mumbling in a language I didn’t know and when you weren’t talking, you were making this god-awful wheezing noise. I thought you were going to die”, he said shakily. Michael found himself making a quiet, gentle ‘hushing’ sound.

“Hey,..I didn’t die, though. You can hear that for yourself. I promise I’m not going anywhere anytime soon. Let’s just put this Angel shit aside for now, okay? I think it’s got you more scared than me right now”, he said. Michael felt Dinadan nod, but it could have just as easily been an adjustment. Michael chose to deal with the awkwardness when he woke up, rolling back onto his side with his boyfriend in his arms.

When he was woken up at five in the morning by Lancelot banging on the door because “Guinevere won’t get out of the bathroom and it’s an emergency”, Dinadan was still clinging to his torso.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

The next morning was slow. Lancelot and Guinevere were bubbly and distracted from the pair that had tagged along with them. It was hard to believe that they were from another time and place when they were acting like high school sweethearts. It was cute, though. They deserved that even if it was just for a few hours- To be a couple on vacation and nothing more. Dinadan was quieter and more reserved than usual, and they avoided the topic of angels as though it was the plague. Michael wasn’t complaining.

He received the first contact from the Haven group at breakfast with a piece of toast in his mouth. It wasn’t from December or Aimee. They had made the executive decision not to talk to him and Noel wouldn’t message him unprompted. It was actually from Freya, and clearly done through speak to text. Victor didn’t really contact Michael unless it was to tell him he was insane.

Aimee still wants you to do your job since you took your laptop with you. What’s the email address on there? Get out of my lane, Victor shut up.

[email protected]

,

he responded.

He’d fire up the laptop later. It was in the back of his bag and he didn’t even know if it had held its charge. They had to get going anyway. They had to get on to the next inn for the night, and get Runt out where he could go to the bathroom and hunt. They also needed to find Cannibal and make sure he was okay as well as get food. By then, everyone would be too tired to keep going. There was a hotel about an hour away, so at that rate the next day, they’d be in Woodburn park.

Guinevere was responsible for driving them to a slightly more secluded part of the country side. Her husband naturally resided in the front seat, but Runt was placed in the back of the truck this time. He had been trained well in preparation for the trip, as he laid down flat so that no one would be able to see him. Dinadan and Michael sat in the back of the vehicle and talked quietly. About life in general of course.

Michael had hazy memories of his life as an Angel, and then there was the Lacey situation, so Michael couldn’t talk about a lot of his life without being disturbed or brought to tears. Dinadan was in a similar boat. His family had a big part in his life. He couldn’t talk about Tristain and Isolde without being sad, and his biological family was disfunctional to say the least. He had seven siblings, not counting in laws from spouses and the children of his siblings. His oldest brother ruled with a wife over his family’s small village, and Bruenor was a terrible person, evidently. Ysabel and Destiny were twins and had both died. Destiny at Badon Hill and Ysabel in childbirth. Then there was Helaine who was eight years older than Dinadan and had been sold off into marriage. Dinadan was next with his twin brother, Daniel. Daniel had died when he was eight. The youngest of the kids was his sister Dana, who was five years younger than Dinadan.

“What are you two?” Lancelot asked, startling them both. Michael looked in the rearview mirror and narrowed his eyes at his uncle.

“Boyfriends, courting, in love. You’re married, surely you understand. We aren’t much different than the two of you. We aren’t having any kind of affair, but we still have to be secrative in a way. Is gay marriage mostly legal? Yes, but there’s still a lot of people who frown upon it, so we really don’t need to go around advertising the fact that we’re together”, Michael said, finding himself defensive. He’d found himself getting a protective stance when it came to Dinadan. He knew his knight was more than capable of defending them both when things came down to it, but MIchael wanted nothing more than to make him feel safe for once in his life.

“Calm down…I could care less, Michael. You know I’m bisexual, I told you this months ago. You could;ve just said it was none of my business. I was just curious”, he said. He had a defensive air about him, as though his guard was suddenly up and he felt the need to defend himself against what Michael had said. Lancelot definitely had something, but Michael didn’t know his uncle well enough or have enough knowledge about mental health to try labeling him. December said he probably had Bipolar 1 or Borderline Personality Disorder, maybe both.

“Okay, sorry”, Michael said. He wasn’t quite sure why he was apologizing- Probably his Rejection Dysphoria talking.

“It’s fine kid. I get it. Galehaut and I had to keep our relationship a secret”, Lancelot said. Michael looked up in confusion.

“I thought Galahad was your son?” he asked. Guinevere chuckled and whipped around a sharp corner, causing everyone to briefly brace for impact.

“

Galahad

is my son.

Galehaut

was my lover”, Lancelot said. Michael was confused.

“I never knew about that”, he said.

“Dinadan does”, his uncle said with a bitter edge to his voice.

“It was a prank!” Michael’s boyfriend exclaimed.

“Galehaut hasn’t made it into modern adaptations because of our relationship, Lance’s bouts of madness and Galahad. He was an opposing warlord that made an agreement with Arthur for peace because he fell in love with Lancelot. They were in a relationship for three years and then…” Guinevere trailed off. She didn’t avoid the topic of her husband’s previous relationships. She just seemed to accept it as something that came and went.

“I was kidnapped by Arthur’s brother, and when I got back, Galehaut had passed away. Everyone says he wasted away and died of a broken heart but as I’ve gained knowledge of the modern times and started reflecting it  I think he might have killed himself. Guin and I got close not long afterwards and now we’re together.” Lancelot explained. Michael nodded, not quite sure how to carry on with the conversation. Guinevere pulled up a road with a sign that read ‘National Park”. It was a bit too cold for camping, so the campground was utterly deserted.

Just like the one in George Washington Forest. A wicked, deserted campground where skinwalkers lurked waiting to kill people just trying to go about their lives. Michael jumped when he felt Dinadan’s hand shaking his shoulder. Guinevere was turned around in the driver’s seat, staring at him with worried eyes.

“Michael, there aren’t any flesh residents on this side of the globe. The most we have to worry about is faeries, and with Lancelot being part Fae, they aren’t going to mess with us.” his aunt assured. Michael would have been skeptical if it was coming from anyone else, but he knew she’d never lied to anyone. And she certainly wouldn’t lie to family. If what he’d overheard was true, Guinevere had told her husband she had feelings for Lancelot before either of them had spoken. Arthur had, of course, told her to pursue him as their marriage was arranged and Arthur would never love a woman. The one rule was “don’t get caught”.

It was also the rule they broke, but the point stood that Michael’s aunt wasn’t a liar.

“Okay”, he said, his voice hardly above a whisper. He couldn’t stop watching the treeline when he got out of the truck. Guinevere attached a leash to Runt’s collar and walked down one of the trails. The young Draco was well trained, but she was using the leash and collar anyway just in case since he was bound to want to explore the new area.

Michael jumped when Cannibal landed behind him. He looked slightly thinner, having burned more calories than he gained with his long distance flying and the miles he’d covered over the past few days. Immediately, he stretched his wings and legs out, sitting in the dirt with a huff, his barbed tail thumping on the ground not unlike a dog’s. When Dinadan came up to the Wyvern, he ducked his head with a warble and gently nuzzled into Dinadan’s chest. It caused him to step back, but the gesture was probably gentle for an animal as immensely sized as Cannibal.

“Wyverns are kind of like cows- They’re big babies and want to love on people but they just don’t know how big they are. Not aware of their own strength”, Dinadan had told him once. Michael could see now what his boyfriend had been talking about.

Michael relaxed a bit the longer they spent outside. Lancelot disappeared into the woods after his wife and Michael sat on the grass with his boyfriend. It was chilly, the wind making it feel colder outside than it actually was. Cannibal wandered around the area, but his hunger seemed sated for the time being. After seeming to have deemed the area acceptable, Cannibal stalked off into the woods nearby, and through the foliage, Michael saw the massive Wyvern lay down.

“Should we..?” Michael trialed off.

“He knows what the truck smells like. He’ll track us when he wakes up. He deserves to rest”, Dinadan said. They were sitting shoulder to shoulder, leaning on one another like two ancient trees whose trunks had woven together as they grew overtime. A few animal made noise in the distance and Michael jumped at first, but he could tell that they were small, harmless creatures.

Dinadan shifted and laid back, laying his torso in his boyfriend’s lap. Michael shifted so that he could cradle his boyfriend’s shoulders and support him where he was leaned against his torso. Michael couldn’t help but smile. Dinadan was looking up at him with the calmest expression Michael had ever seen on his face, and it made Michael’s heart do sumersaults in his chest.

His knight twisted a little in his arms, now laying his head on his chest.

“You kind of look like a real angel…which I guess you are, but the light is making it look like he have a half halo on your head. And your face always lights up when you smile. I just like looking at you. You always get so expressive when you talk”, his knight said. His voice was coated with a tone of admiration, and Michael felt his cheeks burn with a fierce blush.

“I…You’re beautiful. I know you’re a dude but still…You don’t have a bad angle. You look like the gods and angels in those reniassance  paintings. I don’t think you have a single flaw, Dani”, Michael said, meaning every word of it. Dinadan smiled, a little lopsided and chuckled.

“Michael, I promise you, I have plenty of flaws”, his knight said, quiet enough that it could be considered a whisper.

“Well, I can’t see any”, Michael told him, starting to lean down. Dinadan closed his eyes and tilted his head back. It felt like he was on autopilot as he leaned down and pressed his lips to Dinadan’s. It was like a spark of electricity ran between their bodies. He was warm and soft and smelled of honey. Michael could still taste sugar and nutmeg, and he leaned up like he needed Michael to keep holding onto him. His hands found their way to Michael’s shoulders where they sat trembling.

Michael pulled away when he heard footsteps.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

There was no awkwardness between Michael and Dinadan on the ride to the hotel, but they were both blushing. The adults seemed to take notice, sharing looks and seeming to have entire conversations without ever opening their mouths, similar to Lacey and December. Maybe it happened when people knew each other long enough or got married, but with all the things he’d seen as of late, he wouldn’t be surprised if they had telepathy.

This time, Dinadan and Michael got a room with one bed on purpose, an unspoken agreement that neither of them had any qualms about This hotel was much more expensive than what Michael was expecting for a town in Ireland that was anything but a tourist trap. Just because he had the money didn’t mean he wanted to spend it. The room was far bigger than the one at Murphy Inn had been. It had white walls and a green theme going on. The couch under the window was green, the sheets were green and so was the carpet. It wasn’t even a nice forest green to contrast with the white walls- It was a yellowish barf green that made Michael’s eyes hurt.

The colors here aren’t anything like Heaven,

Michael found himself thinking. It was a strange thought to have. He still didn’t understand how he was able to stand in Heaven when he visited it. If he’d been kicked out, why would he be able to see the place? He was getting closer to

something

but he didn’t know what it was. The places he was seeing and the things that visited him had started out as a mystery months ago. He now knew he was visiting Heaven and Hell, that he was being visited by Angels, Demons and Dieties. He knew he was the Atchangel Michwel, but was fallen because he had sex with another Angel and questioned Yaweh(who he still thought was making rash, egotistical choices). He had made the decision to be reincarnated as a Human child.

If he was getting his memories back, was he on the path to forgiveness? And if he was, what would come after? Why were there wings stuck under his skin? Would they grow in- Rip through his back-

Michael stopped thinking long enough to take his shoes and jacket off, digging his computer out of his bag. It had no battery- As he’d expected. Michael plugged it in and looked over at his boyfriend, the decision he’d made earlier coming back and making his face heat up. Dinadan was also kicking his shoes off and throwing his jacket aside. He sat on the end of the bed, looking at Michael with an unreadable expression on his face. Michael was thinking of something to say when Dinadan finally spoke in a neutral monotone.

“You kissed me”, he said. Michael couldn’t figure out what he was feeling. Usually Michael could read him like a book.

He ws dyslexic with written words, not people.

“I did…It seemed like the right moment and the right thing to do. We’re both madly in love with each other, but I’m really sorry if I crossed a line or made you uncomfortable”, Michael said. Because he couldn’t figure out how his boyfriend was feeling, he was struggling to figure out how to go about the conversation. Dinadan made a noise not unlike a scoff.

“Shut up, dumbass. I’m apologizing for not kissing you back”, he said. As if Michael was supposed to know that.

“Dina, there’s no rule saying you have to kiss me back. I’m sure I surprised you and Runt came barelling out of the treeline at as anyway. He kind of killed the mood”, Michael said. He left out how he’d frozen up entirely when he heard the big animal approaching. How he hadn’t been able to breathe until Runt came into view and how his heart continued to race until they were almost at the hotel.

Dinadan looked up at him, a hand once again on his arm. He still couldn’t quite figure out his knight’s expression, but his eyes told Michael everything he needed to know. He closed his eyes, leaning down a bit to meet Dinadan halfway. The hand that wasn’t touching his arm reached up to rest against the side of Michael’s neck. His boyfriend often had to reach him. Michael had been six feet tall when he was seventeen and then grew another two inches. Now he was six foot five, give or take an inch. Strange, since he really didn’t feel like he should still be growing. Dinadan was only five foot four, tall for the time he was born in. It gave them a foot of height difference.

Dinadan was hesitant as he kissed Michael, who leaned into it. Once he got the hang of things, he leaned up a bit more and tightened his grip, Michael’s hands made their way to his waist, holding him steady on the edge of the mattress. He placed a hand on his knee, sliding it up slowly. He paused halfway up Dinadan’s leg, looking into his eyes to see if what he was doing was okay. There would be a talk shortly, but it wasn’t time to dwell on it.

Dinadan still had that look in his eyes, but it wasn’t unreadable anymore. Michael knew precisely what it was.

Desire.

The same desire that flooded his senses when the man entered the same room as him. The same desire that always made him want to keep distance between Dinadan and his wasit when he was holding him. Dinadan felt it too. Michael pulled away, nearly laughing at his knight’s disappointed expression.

“We need to talk…Don’t look at me like that. I kissed you mere hours ago and you’re looking like you want me to bend you over and make you limp for a week”, Michael said, his filter not present.

“Michael, I couldn’t tell you how long I’ve been scared to make the first move. I have wanted you since the day we met, and I know you must feel the same to an extent”< Dinadan said, confusing Michael.

“How do you know how I feel?” Michael asked, not that he was wrong.

“I can feel your prick poking me when I’m on your lap or laying up against you”, he said. Michael felt himself blush in embarrassment. He really thought he’d done a good job of hiding that.

“Anyway…Are you sure you want this?” Michael asked. They were moving fast and he hadn’t been in any relationships so he didn’t know how much that mattered. Dinadan nodded his head hard, as though he was scared that Michael wouldn’t see.

“Michael, please, if you’re okay with it…” he begged. Michael leaned forward once more, this kiss far more feverish than the previous ones.

“How do you want this to go?” Michael asked him. Dinadan cocked his head in confusion.

“Uh..”

“Do you want to go down on me or do you want me to go down on you, or do you want to just figure things out as we go?” Michael asked. The things that went on in his fantasies could be vastly different than what might actually happen. He felt too awkward and goofy to take a test online to figure out where he stood. Usually, he imagined Dinadan under him, but Michael couldn’t say that he minded the idea of his knight on top.

“Let’s just figure it out. I’ve never done anything like this before”, Diandan said, suddenly sounding hesitant. Michael gave him a smile and hoped it looked reassuring.

“Me neither”, he said. For once, Michael didn’t feel particularly ashamed of that. He felt awkward at school, swearing he was the only seventeen year old virgin in the D.C area. Dinadan leaned back up to reach him, and Michael returned his hand to his thigh. Dinadan hummed against Michael’s lips as he slid his hand higher, a tickling sensation that almost made him laugh. His knight sighed and ducked his head down when Michael palmed the bulge between his legs, pressing his forehead to Michael’s collarbone.

“Are you still okay?” he asked. Dinadan hummed and nodded. His hands were trembling slightly as he reached down for the hem of his shirt. Michael got the message and lifted the garment over his head. He slipped his fingers into the waistband of Dinadan’s sweatpants, his skin hot- Nearly feverish. His knight lifted his hips of the bed, letting Michael tug his pants and undergarments off. He was decent sized- Slightly larger than Michael had pictured him being.

His knight reached down and tugged at his belt, struggling to undo the clasp. Michael helped him pull him out of the clothing. It was a near liberating feeling not to have his pants steadily becoming tighter in the crotch. Michael wasn’t ashamed to admit that he was somewhat larger than average- Not that he’d measured himself. (He had). Dinadan was staring down at him.

“You’re big”, he said matter-of-factly. Michael couldn’t help but chuckle.

“It doesn’t have to go inside of you”, he assured him. Dinadan took his hands off just long enough for Michael to tug his shirt over his head.

This is really happening,

he thought. Michael leaned in deeper the next time they kissed, the pair falling back onto the bed, Michael hovering over his boyfriend. He leaned down and kissed down the side of of Dinadan’s neck and to his scarred shoulder, his knight moaning softly under his touch.

“Still alright?” Michael asked him as he slowly slid down the length of Dinadan’s body. His knight hummed and nodded, a hand covering his eyes. Michael took Dinadan in his hand, his body jolting as Michael breathed softly over his tip. He leaned down, taking him slowly into his mouth. Dinadan groaned and bucked his hips. He was hot and salty- Extremely salty. Michael hollowed out his cheeks and sucked as hard as he could, causing Dinadan to hiss his name in a near-inhuman way that made Michael’s member drip. His knight was quickly a mess of pants and quiet groans, trembling hands tangled in Michael’s hair while he bobbed his head. Dinadan came with a shout of Michael’s name. Michael swallowed as much as he could, but some of it still ran down his chin.

It was a series of stumbling movements and giggling that led them into the shower of the big, stark white bathroom under the pretense of “cleaning up”. Dinadan’s hand found its way around Michael, and if he hadn’t known his knight was good with his hands before, he did now. A few hard strokes and the teasing thumb over his tip and Michael was done for, only able to say “I love you” when he at last caught his breath.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

When Michael woke up the next morning he wasn’t at all shocked to find that Dinadan was curled up against his chest. He was slightly surprised that he could feel that neither of them had clothes on under the sheets. What was surprising was his phone buzzing on the bedside table. He stretched his arm out to grab it, careful not to disturb his boyfriend. He had notifications from Guinevere on his messenger as well as ever social media he had. He also had five missed calls since six in the morning. She picked up on the first ring.

“What the hell? Is everything okay?” Michael asked, keeping his voice low. It wasn’t early, but he still didn’t want to wake his partner if it could be avoided. HIs aunt chuckled on the other end of the line.

“Yes, I didn’t know if you were an early riser or not. We’re a day behind schedule…Lance is sick right now and I’m not feeling the healthiest myself, so just take today to just waste time and do whatever you want. It might be your only opportunity for a long time”, she said. There was violent coughing in the room that had Michael leaning away from his phone.

“Okay, thanks. I can run to the store and pick up cold medicine for you two later. You’re not allergic to over the counter stuff like Vicks’, Ibuprofen or Benadryl are you?” he asked.

“Thank you Michael. No, we don’t have medicine related allergies.”

Michael dropped his phone after his aunt hung up. It was only nine in the morning, so the run into town could wait a while. He turned the TV on, muting the volume and searching for the closed caption button, flipping through the channels until he found something mildly interesting. The crime documentary didn’t do much to keep Michael’s brain silent. It wandered as it always did. As curious and sneaky as a child.

He looked back down at Dinadan, memories from the night before flooding back. After they got out of the shower they had collapsed onto the bed and under the sheets and then they talked for what had to be hours. It had started as a serious conversation over what their relationship was now, and what was going on with it. Michael had been more than alright with what happened and what was going to come from it, but he was more concerned with how Dinadan was going to be with it.

His boyfriend had been enthusiastic about it, much to his relief. They had laid down and Dinadan had turned over to lay his head on Michael’s chest. That seemed to be his favorite spot. It seemed as though he hadn’t moved a single inch, which was a bit of a blessing. He had draped his leg over Michael’s, and if he were to get any closer, his dick would be up against Michael’s leg, although he wasn’t exactly complaining about that one.

Michael jolted in surprise when Dinadan shifted against his side, and he looked down at his boyfriend again. Dinadan had curled up into a tighter ball, his hand gripping the comforter where he couldn’t get leverage on Michael’s naked shoulder. He shivered, and it could just as easily been from fear as a chill. Michael pulled the sheet up higher and ran his hand up and down his spine, assuming he was cold since he hadn’t shown any distress the entire time Michael had been awake. Dinadan shifted again with a quiet groan in the back of his throat, his legs kicked like he was trying to crawl away from something and his brows furrowed. He muttered something in Welsh, although Michael couldn’t understand it.

“Hey, Dina I think you’re having a nightmare”, Michael said, louder than he’d dared to speak so far in hops that it would wake his partner up. He didn’t want to have to raise his voice or shake him- Worried it would only make things worse. Dinadan had no reaction to it, and Michael shook him lightly by his shoulder, not expecting it to be enough but Dinadan suddenly bolted upright with a yell.

“Oh god, it won’t stop”, he said. It wasn’t the first thing he said, but it was the first coherent sentence Michael was able to understand from him. He carefully reached up and laid his hand on Dinadan’s shoulder. All it earned him was a flinch. Dinadan had started to shake and sweat. His eyes were wide and darting around the room and his hands were clasped over one of the scars on his torso. Michael didn’t know where exactly it was from- He had far too many for anyone other than December and their computer to keep track of.

All Michael knew was that it was a stab wound- or at least looked like one- And was a knot of pink, damaged tissue right in the middle of his torso. Michael understood enough about Human biology to know that his boyfriend was lucky to be alive given the nature of that wound and its proximity to his heart.

“Hey, you were dreaming…It’s okay”, he said. Michael had been there through a few of his boyfriend’s nightmares- Enough to know two things. First was that they almost always resulted in a panic attack if he didn’t step in quick enough. Second was that it was a bad idea to say that it was just a dream and it wasn’t real, because more often than not- It had been real at least to an extent and therefore wasn’t

just

a dream, but rather a memory.

“It won’t stop bleeding. I didn’t mean it- Why did he stab me?” he asked. He looked at Michael as he talked but seemed very distant and afraid. Michael pushed aside his initial anger over someone stabbing his boyfriend and focused on the task at hand, pulling him back until his knight was leaning up against his chest.

“I don’t know why he stabbed you, Dina. I’m sure you meant no harm with whatever you said or did. It wasn’t right”, Michael told him. Dinadan still had his hands clasped firmly over the scar, as though to him he was still trying to staunch the bleeding of it, maybe even hold internal organs in- Though Michael doubted the latter with how primitive medicine way back when was.

“It won’t stop- He pulled the dagger out. It won’t slow down”, he said. Michael could feel his pulse starting to quicken. He had to act quick. He grasped Dinadan’s wrists and slowly pried his hands away from the scar. He was met with some initial resistance, but it didn’t last long.

“I know Dinadan. I know. I’m sure it was terrifying and painful and if I can protect you the way I want to, then you won’t ever have to go through that again. But look, we’re past that. You healed. You just have a scar and memories. You’re safe, Dinadan”, Michael said. His boyfriend started to relax once he looked down and was able to see that he was no longer bleeding profusely. Neither of them spike for some time. Surprisingly, Dinadan was actually the one who broke the silence that fell over the pair. He shifted and put his chin on Michael’s shoulder, nuzzling against the side of his neck.

“I’m sorry”, he said. Michael shrugged, but not hard enough to push him off.

“You were scared and remembered something that seemed pretty horrifying. There isn’t anything to be sorry about”.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

After the initial shock of the nightmare had blown over and Dinadan was calm, Michael brought up the task at hand. Not to mention that he felt he needed an excuse to put clothes back on.

“Do you need anything from in town? We’re stuck here for an extra day because Lancelot and Guinevere are sick. I need to pick up medicine for them”, Michael said as he got dressed. He had the truck keys since it was supposed to have been his turn to drive. There was less apprehension with this trip, since Runt had seemed content to stay out in the woods with Cannibal. His boyfriend shook his head.

“No, I don’t need anything. But can I come with you? I don’t want to be alone”, he said.  He never wanted to be alone. Michael didn’t mind it, but it was something that made him wonder why exactly that was. He tried not to dwell on that, since it had to be something bad. He trusted that Dinadan would tell him on his own terms and he seemed like the type of person to get more closed off when questioned. MIchael didn’t see it as an immediate threat. He had been more concerned with the scars, but he hadn’t noticed any new self inflicted wounds.

He knew it wasn’t the best idea, but he had decided not to bring it up unless he saw new ones.

Michael couldn’t quite name the emotion he felt when he saw Dinadan pull one of his own hoodies over his head. Michael’s clothes were big on him, but he wore them so well anyway. Michael turned before Dinadan could see the blush beginning to form on his face. In town, Michael contemplated taking his partner on the first real date in nearly a month but quickly talked himself out of it. They always had to check places ahead of time to make sure the food wouldn’t make Dinadan sick, and short notice was bad news for both of them. Michael found himself turning to his boyfriend as he drove along a straight strech of freeway.

“When this quest is done and over with, I’m going to take you one a real date, I promise.” he said. Dinadan smiled at him. He had been leaned back in the passenger seat hugging a leg to his chest and watching the city go by with the usual wonder in his eyes. For a brief, fleeting moment it didn’t feel like they were on some impossible quest to bring his adopted sister/mom back to life after she sacrificed herself to a skinwalker for him. Like they weren’t a couple that shouldn’t exist given barriers of both time and terrestrial limitations who had had sex the same day of their first kiss. It felt like they were just a couple one vacation, and Dinadan was just coming out of his shell for the first time. Michael was going to cherish that moment, no matter how short it had been.

“How did I get so lucky to have someone as perfect as you?” Dinadan said, in a tone that made Michael wonder if he was just musing aloud to himself or if he actually wanted an answer to the inquiry.

“You might be lucky, but I’m far from perfect-

“Michael, you’re an angel”-

-”I just want to give you the life of peace. A life you deserve. I want you to feel loved and respected and safe. I don’t want you to have to go day to day wondering when you’re going to have to fight again. And if I’m perfect for wanting the best for my boyfriend, then I must be doing the bare minimum”, Michael told him. He hadn’t expected all that to come out, but he’d discovered that when he was around DInadan, his mouth opened of its own accord to spill his guts. His knight giggled and blushed, covering his mouth with his hand. Michael wondered who or what had made him so insecure about his teeth being crooked.

“I thought I was the knight in shining armor here”, he said, only half serious.

“Every soldier needs a break”, Michael told him.

Dinadan didn’t follow him to his aunt and uncle’s room, and when he made his way back up to their hotel room, the shower was running. He wondered if it was a better idea for Dinadan to shower with cold water or take a bath rather than standing. December had agreed with him when he brought up his concerns about the fainting being more than the effects of an absence seizure.

He kicked his shoes off and sat on the couch where he’d left his laptop to charge. It took him three tries to remember what his password was, and he had to clear junk before he found the email Freya had sent him after having Victor confirm that it was actually from her. He didn’t mind still having to do his job. It wasn’t like this was actually a vacation, and he wasn’t about to complain about making money. He was just glad to have the password for the Hotel internet, because downloading all of Haven’s data and documents was going to take an hour at the very least, maybe more.

As secretary, Michael had everything. He had copies of everyone’s medical records and employment history- Including salary and insurance information. He also had all of the historical documents, original copies and translated versions, dating back to three thousand years prior, as well as financial records dating back five centuries. The secretaries before him had to have been recordkeeping gods, because everything was orgainized perfectly. Michael couldn’t undo the system if he tried. (And he tried just to see how deep the organization went).

Michael was deep in a game on his phone when he heard the sound. An unmistakable

thunk!

From the bathroom. Michael dropped his phone and found himself walking quickly to the door- So fast he literally couldn’t remember walking from the bed to the door- as though he had teleported.

Gods, I hope this isn’t locked.

Michael knocked first, borderline praying that he was just jumping to conclusions and Dinadan was fine. He knocked first and hoped there would be an answer. He knew nothing could have fallen. They were using travel sized bottles that got left on the floor when they weren’t being used. Nothing else in the bathroom would be able to make that noise.

“Dina, are you okay?” he called. No answer, of course. The shower running was now an uncomfortably loud noise. Like it was something there to block out the sound of his boyfriend wanting help.  Not wanting- Needing.

“I’m coming in”, he said, testing the handle. It wasn’t locked. He honestly hadn’t paid any attention to it. He knew the door to their actual room locked, but he had never bothered to check if the bathroom door did. He got his answer, pushing the door open, and being met with a wall of steam. It was too quiet in there. The only sign that a person was even in the room at all save for the shower running was the pile of clothes sitting halfway out of the plastic bag they threw their dirty clothes for the dry cleaner’s in that had not been there before. Michael pushed the stained white and green striped shower curtain out of the way. Dinadan was on the floor of the stall, a heap of limbs at awkward angles, but it looked like he’d positioned himself in such a way that he would catch his head on his arms rather than hiting it on the linoleum.

“Dinadan?” Michael said. He hadn’t been counting. He didn’t know how long it had been since he passed out. The skin on his hip was pink where the hot water was running down onto him, and his red hair looked more brown with it being wet and plastered to his head and face. Michael was on the verge of panting like he had run a marathon as he turned the water off and got his hand under Dinadan’s head to support his neck. He reached over and turned the water off, stepping into the stall, not even thinking about the wet socks.

“Dinadan, I need you do wake up, love”, he said. He balled up his fist and rubbed his knuckles against Dinadan’s sternum, a method December had said might could help bring him back around. Dinadan moved a little, his brows furrowing and his head turning to the side. Michael was relieved, both that he was waking up and that he wasn’t going to have to spray him with cold water- The next step if he wasn’t waking up as easily.

“That’s it. Come one”, Michael said, trying to be calm. His mind was starting to race, telling him to get towels and a robe. Use something to get him warm because he had to be freezing, but the logical part of him was screaming that he needed to slow down and make sure Dinadan was safe first. Check for head injuries, make sure his brain was okay, then make sure the rest of his body was okay. He could worry about the rest later.

MIchael leaned over him, still talking- narrating what he was doing to himself because he didn’t know what else to do. He used his other hand to feel his head and even around his ears and neck, checking for injuries and contusions.

“Does any of this hurt?” he asked. Dinadan responded to him in his original tongue at first, and then attempted to shake his head, though it just lolled like he was a rag doll. Finally, he weakly managed words that Michael understood.

“No, what happened?..” he asked. That was a good sign. Michael shifted so he could get a hand under his shoulders and lift him into a sitting position.

“You passed out in the shower. I don’t know if you were just light headed or if you had a seizure. Can you remember?” Michael asked. Dinadan moved his shoulders in a jerking movement that was barely akin to a shrug.

“I barely remember getting in. Think I had a seizure”, he said, his voice a little slurred. Michael couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief . All things considered, that was actually a good thing. It meant he didn’t have any form of brain damage and was fully coherent, albeit a little confused.

“Okay. Does anything hurt?” he ased, already looking over his body for injuries. There was a yellowed spot on his right arm- A bruise already beginning to form. Dinadan wasn’t acting like it hurt him too much, which was a welcome relief, as it meant that it wasn’t broken.

“No”, he said, and Michael was able to believe him. His boyfriend started to tremble, his chattering teeth audible. Michael stepped out of the stall, removing his soaked socks and shirt. He grabbed a towel and wrapped Dinadan in it as much as he could. As much as he wanted to get him out of there and into the warm hotel room, he waited until he wasn’t soaking wet.

“Let’s get you up”, he said, standing up once again and offering his hand to Dinadan. His knight was unsteady on his legs, and Michael was never happier for him to have left a door open. His driver’s license said he was 6’2’’ and weight 185 pounds, but he’d grown three inches and had found himself more hungry than usual- Like his metabolism had doubled. He now weighed about 200 pounds, and Dinadan was much lighter. He knew he could pick him up and make it easier for the both of them. Dinadan clung to his shoulders as he was carried into the bed room and set back on the bed.

“I didn’t”-

“Dinadan. You’re the one who fainted. Surely you’re more scared than I am. You do not need to apologize to me for fainting in the shower. You can’t exactly predict when you’re going to pass out like that. Just rest right now, okay. Do you need anything?”Michael asked. If it wasn’t for the whole angel thing, he’d seriously be wondering if he’d been a single mother of ten in a past life.

“I’m okay, Michael. We both know this is far from the first time I’ve passed out”, he said. Michael nodded and sat down next to him.

Dinadan shifted where he was laying down until he was using his leg as a pillow. Michael wasn’t as worried about getting hard with his boyfriend in his lap anymore- Now that they’d had sex together. It was bound to happen- That they’d work their way into each other’s pants so quickly after the first time. Desire for each other and impatience aside, they were both still in their teens and horny and curious. Not to mention spending years repressed.

Michael had shifted to where he was laying down too, and Dinadna had shifted on top of him. The kisses started gentle- The touches innocent, but it didn’t last long. Michael’s hand found its way to Dinadan’s cock, gripping and stroking him. Michael didn’t have anything to go off of other than Dinadan’s reactions, so it did his best to go off of the positive ones, soon developing a rhythm once his boyfriend had turned onto his back to give him easier access.

Michael rolled his wrist when his partner threw his head back, ran his thumb over his slit when he whined his name, and squeezed him hard when his nails scratched down his back. The growths or wing bones seemed very interested in the human touch, seeming to shift into a more relaxed position against his spine, as strange as it sounded. Dinadan started to pant, and at first, Michael couldn’t figure out why until he cried out his name and came with a spasm that seemed to run through his whole body. Michael continued to stroke him as he came down from his high, using his come as lubricant.

The second Dinadan’s breathing had somewhat evened out, he rolled back over and slid down, his stony eyes on Michael’s the whole time. Michael nodded and lifted his hips for Dinadan to slide his sweatpants down, his hands landing in his hair.

“Allow me to thank you”, he said, his voice breathy and lost. Michael nodded, already lost in his mischievous grin.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

All of the necessary files were taken care of and downloaded onto Michael’s computer by around seven that night. He didn’t have to do much work with it that night- Just look through and make sure everything was there. Most of his job actually included monitoring two spreadsheets tracking the finances and in turn- The debt. One was for the North American Haven specifically, and didn’t change too often. Their debt was almost payed off- $40,000 dollars, and with how extensive the financial history was, it wasn’t bad at all. The one for all the Haven’s combined changed constantly. Haven as a whole had trillions of dollars in debt- And it went back further than the records did.

Haven had about two hundred files altogether, separated into and contained by five sections. Background and laws, finances, supplies and weapons, artifacts and manuscripts and people. If his notebook was correct, then everything in the files was corroborating until he got to people. Under it was a list of every single person to work for the North American Haven and their background information. Then there was the medical records divided into each person, but a file caught his eye. Michael knew he must have gotten a fleeting glance at it, because it was in the notebook, but he didn’t remember it.

Deaths and Unnacounted.

That file didn’t fill the screen like most of the others did. It instead lead to two separate files. One was labeled
Deceased
and the other was labeled
Missing.
Curiousity got the better of him, and against his better judgement, Michael clicked on the one labeled missing. He didn’t recognize any of the names on them. There were seventeen files, dating back to a woman named Celeste Killian in 1587- The first. From what Michael gathered, she had gone looking for her husband after he left her one night with no explanation other than saying he was tired of her. Her last known whereabouts was the Roanoke Colony, from which she had detailed a lot of strange happenings like lights in the sky and animals acting possessed. She was one of 115 missing people from the colony alone.

Michael had never heard of any of the names before, even though the list was extensive. The most recent missing person had last been seen on June thirteenth of 2021, just over a year prior. Her name was Kelsi Chance-Green and she had only been twenty when she went missing. The report read that she had gone on a mission to Arizona outside of Tucson to handle a Draco problem. She was one of two survivors, though the other wasn’t named. The next reports came from a phsychiatric hospital in Phoenix, detailing that she talked to empty space and refused to disclose where her burns were from. She was considered a high-risk patient due to threats of suicide. She had dissappeared from her hospital room, the window smashed out. She hadn’t been seen since.

Michael felt like he shouldn’t be looking at this, that it would be wiped from his computer, which was why he kept looking. The death folder was extensive to say the least. He stopped scrolling in the fourteenth century. It was hard to think about, although it made sense. The North American Haven was the third oldest, next to Eurasia’s original one and what used to exist in Australia, dating to be around two thousand years old. The first file that caught his eye was a death in 1756.
James Franklin Smith- Survived by Amalee Marie Smith.
That was Aimee’s name, but she had said she never married and never had children.

James had been born on an unknown date in 1732 and died on New Year’s Eve of 1756. He had apparently been an officer of the law in what would later become North Carolina before marrying Aimee or Amalee and starting his Haven career. They had only been married three years when he died.

The death report was vague at best, speaking of a mission to investigate a lake where children often went missing and people reported glowing eyes in the water. They were in a boat that was overturned and according to Aimee, something with four fins, rubbery flesh and a long neck had grabbed James’ neck in its teeth and drug him away. At the time, it was called a lake monster, but investigation of the corpse performed by a veteranarian was inconclusive. When she had Victor look at the records, he’d concluded that is was a Pleasiasaur that either traveled time or survived a mass extinction event.

No wonder she’d only been married once. There was no doubt that she still grieved heavily for her husband. Maybe that was why she was still such a bitch nearly three centuries later.

The next report that caught Michael’s eye was one for four people. They died a week before Kelsi went missing.
John Wood, Thomas Blue, Alyssa Sattler, and Robert Grant.
They were all aged 19-30, and had died on the same mission Kelsi had been declared insane after. From what he gathered, they had been caught in the Draco flame.

Their bodies had been too charred to be identified, and they were stuck together to the point that separating them would be disrespectful. They had been buried together and survived by various family members. Unlike the much older ones, a few of which contained crudely drawn autopsy reports, this one had pictures. A few others had them as well. This one displayed regular picture of the four employees, and the other one was mildly horrific. It was a picture on desert stand of red and black chunks laying in the pile. Michael nearly threw up when he realized the charred blocks he was looking at were bodies.

The next death report was a breath of fresh air compared to the others. It was a woman named Mary Brown, survived by Isiaih Brown, her husband and the widower who had graciously been sharing his home with everyone. She had worked for Haven the same amount of time as her husband, married Isiaih at sixteen. She had stopped working at fourty when she began to lose her hearing. She passed away in her home of natural causes when she was ninety one. There was no picture of her body- presumably due to natural causes and no other nature to it. There was a black and white photo of a young woman in a WWII nurse’s uniform, black curly hair unruly under her cap and her face glowing with a bright smile.

The most recent report was Lacey, and Michael found himself with a pit in his chest, cold and empty that would not go away. He took a long drink of water in an attempt to steady himself before he even clicked on it. According to the file, Magnolia Lacey Du Lac was survived by her parents, December and Michael. Her birthday was still the first of April, but it had been listed as
548/1991
acknowledging the day she was actually born on as well as what her birth certificate said. Her death was listed as a mix of blood loss and animal attack, going on to detail the wounds inflicted by the Sknwalker claws and the possession, how she’d had to be pierced by a flaming sword to expel the spirit.

Michael couldn’t help the flare of anger. He knew fire had been used to kill of the spirit, but he had been left completely in the dark about how his sister had been stabbed by Aimee with a sword that had quite literally been lit on fire. Logically, he knew that he didn’t really have a right to be pissed at Aimee for what had been necessary in the moment, but he still wanted to snap her neck for it. If she hadn’t been run throught, Lacey would’ve had a chance. It would have been slim, and shw would have to have been put in a coma or even on life support, but she would have had a chance.

Getting stabbed like that had took her chances down to the negatives. According to the report, she had begged her parents to take her away from everyone. It went on to say that she had started struggling to breathe as though she had water in her lungs, and her father had used a battlefield tactic of taking a dagger and pushing it up into the main artery of someone’s heart, killing them instantly without causing any pain. It was the most humane way to put someone out of their miserty without access to drugs.

MIchael was slightly pissed at his uncle for doing what he did, but it had been for the best. Lacey could have died a slow, painful death but he’d been a good enough person- A good enough father, to put his child out of their misery and make it quick and painless. Even though there were already tears pricking his eyes, curiosity won the best of him and he scrolled down to the final page.

On the left hand side was a picture of Lacey when she was young- Michael’s age so it couldn’t be a school picture- Maybe a cover photo for a resume or something like that. It was from that five year stage where she’d been dying her hair brown. It sat in a tight bun on her head, and the smile was very clearly forced. There was very little photographic evidence of her being happy.

On the right was a crime scene photo of the forest floor. The grass was barely identifiable through the blood. Where her skin was visible, Lacey was so very pale and there was a gaping hole on her stomach showing through a cloth bandage. The front of her neck was gone, a bloody, gaping hole all that was left. A dagger was sticking out of her chest.

MIchael closed out all of his tabs and slammed the computer shut, leaning over the small trash can to gag. Dinadan was over at his side in an instant, holding his hair away from his face and looking terrified. Michael had forgotten he wasn’t alone in the room.

“Michael, are you okay?” he asked. Michael shook his head and tried to shrug his boyfriend off as gently as he was able to. He didn’t want to come off as mean, but he also didn’t want Dinadan to coddle him. It would be too suffocating.

“I’m fine, I just… My secretary job- I…I have access to missing person and death records from all of Haven and, well, not to mention that it’s all screwed up and people are keeping so many secrets… God, I’m going to have to confront Aimee if we ever get back, but I- I saw Lacey, Dina…I opened the death report and I saw the crime scene picture.”, he said. Dinadan’s face fell in a sympathetic expression.

“Oh, Michael…” he started. Michael got up fast, stumbling on his feet and Dinadan reaching out to steady him even though he towered over his knight.

“No…I-I’m okay, I just…I need to talk to my uncle”, he said, making a beeline for the door to their hotel room.

“Michael”, Dinadan started to say something, his tone laced with intense worry. Michael felt bad for leaving him alone to worry like that, but this was a family matter and he didn’t want to change the way his boyfriend thought or felt about him. Michael was out of breath and panting when he got to his aunt and uncle’s room. He had marched right past the elevator and instead ran up the stairs. He started to pound on their door and was on the verge of calling their names when it finally swung open. His aunt was on the other side of the door, visibly tired with red, irritated eyes. She was dressed like she was prepared to go marching through the snow despite it being relatively warm in the hotel room.

“Lacey”, was all Michael found himself able to say. Guinevere’s face fell and she took Michael by the elbow to guide him into the room, closing the door and making sure it was locked. Her face had sorrow painted on it that had not been there mere seconds prior.

“I know, Michael. I know. We all miss her”, she said, Michael shook his head and collapsed onto the bed, his right leg bouncing up and down rapidly. His aunt placed her arm around his shoulders and he still couldn’t bring himself to speak further.

“You guys are doing the right thing”, he said. His uncle suddenly appeared on his other side. Michael had no idea where he came from and couldn’t bring himself to care. He was clearly sick, pale with a red nose and eyes, breathing through his mouth like he wasn’t able to get air in and out of his nose.

“Michael what?” Guinevere started. He shook his head and turned to Lancelot. Arthur’s former champion jumped in surprise when Michael leaned forward and hugged him tightly. The room fell still and silent before his uncle’s arms fell around him, even though he was very obviously confused. His aunt shifted closer, never taking her arm off of him. Michael couldn’t bring himself to stop crying, and the tears were coming violently enough that he couldn’t force himself to talk for a few minutes.

“You did the right thing”, he finally made himself say. His uncle was sniffling, and Michael didn’t look up to figure out if it was from being under the weather or from the fact that he was in tears.

“What’s going on, child?” his aunt asked after a little more time had gone by and and there were a lot less tears than there had previously been. Michael shook his head, but a stern look from his uncle- As though he was about to scold him like he was still a little kid- had Michael talking  quickly.

“It’s all so screwed up… Haven is. I-I mean its intentions are good, but the way it’s run and how they handle disasters is just…It’s so messed up. I want to fix it, I have to confront Aimee and I don’t know how without putting us in jeopardy. I can’t…I think she’s covering up a lot of really messed up shit and I…I don’t know what’s. It’s so wrong”.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Guinevere woke them up by banging on the door so hard that Michael was sure she was going to knock it down. The sun had yet to rise and it was raining. When Micihael opened the door, he found his aunt wearing what looked like a black repurposed wedding dress altered to come to just under her kneees instead of dragging. She was wearing either black jeans or leggings and black dress shoes. Her face was also partially concealed by a black veil.

“Wear your nice clothes and shoes. We’re going to have to drop by the store before we head out there”, she said, disappearing into the hallway just as quickly as she’d showed up. Michael shrugged and turned to his boyfriend, also woken by the pounding on the door and just beginning to get out of bed.

“What’s going on?” he asked, his voice gravelly and deeper than it usually was- Still cloaked over by sleep.

“We’re leaving early apparently, and we need to dress nice”, he said. Dinadan nodded, stretching and going to dig through the bags while Michael stepped into the bathroom to wash his face and arrange his hair into something that resembled actual hair instead of a bird nest. Michael dressed in cream colored slacks, a white belt and a tux shirt with a black tie and white dress shoes. Dinadan was wearing black and grey. He was dressed in his combat boots, black jeans and a grey sweater. Michael came up behind him to help gather his thick red hair behind his head and woven into a braid.

The truck had already been started as they made their way out to the parking lot, exhaust billowing from the pipe. Dinadan and Michael climbed into the back seat, feet propped up on the bags. Michael was careful not to put weight on his bag and wrinkle the papers. He had printed the death and missing person files in the lobby the night before, not trusting Aimee wouldn’t erase the files from his computer when she realized he had access to them.

Michael still didn’t know what to do with the information he had.

The first stop they made was a butcher shop, then a walmart, then a small business and finally a metaphysical shop. A strange combination of gifts for a goddess, but how would a bunch of Humans know what she liked? As the rain started to let up and the road got all the more narrow, Michael started to wonder if his uncle actually knew what he was doing or not.

“Uncle Lance- Are we going to a specific place or are you just driving around waiting for a sign?” Michael finally asked. Dinadan and Guinevere seemed to have been thinking the same thing, as they shot him a look over their shoulders.

“I’m driving in the direction I’m being called to drive in and holy shit!” Lancelot exclaimed as a black mass swooped down near the windsheild. He swerved off the wet pavement to avoid hitting what had to have been a large bird and into a pullout. Off to the left, a murder of crows circled and flew about over an overgrown feild.

“I think I found your sign, honey”, Guinevere muttered. Lancelot pulled the truck into a more concealed area of trees. The cackling of the crows was nearly deafening, and the mass of their flock seemed to block out the sun. But just as quickly as they had come, they were gone, flying away at speeds birds should not have been able to achieve. The grass was soon trampled down in a path as Cannibal and Runt walked up to the group. It was very strange that they were so out in the open where anyone driving along the road could see them clearly.

“Everyone listen to me carefully. Summoning a deity and asking their favor- Let alone earning it is tricky at best”, Lancelot said. He sounded like he had experience based on the way he said that but Michael quickly decided that he did not want to know. Michael helped his aunt pour out a large container of water in a thick ring, still entirely unsure of what was actually going on. With no warning, Lancelot motioned everyone back and struck a match, lighting the grass withing the water ring, that thankfully contained it. The circle was about three feet around. Michael exclaimed and fell back. The fire was hot and growing taller, but just as quickly as it had been started by her husband, Guinevere put it out.

“Did you just extinguish a fire with a gallon of two percent milk?” Michael asked his aunt in confusion, the smoke that rose from the charred grass now smelled of spoiled millk, and he had to breathe through his nose to avoid gagging on the overwhelming scent.

“Milk is one of the acceptable offerings to The Morrigan. I did some digging, and for some reason, she accepts the two percent milk more often.” she said, like it was a well known fact that the goddess of war and death preferred watered down store bought skim milk.

“I…okay”, he sighed. Dinadan lit incense that smelled strongly of lavender and held it between two pinched fingers, awaiting instruction. Michael watched in confusion as Lancelot crouched over a white candle and made a cut across his right palm, letting blood drip onto the wax. Dinadan quickly lit that candle, before Lancelot cut it hand, and the steps were repeated. Guinevere made the same slice across her own hand and did the same before looking at Michael. He shook his head, but reluctantly held his hand out for her to cut, not entirely present in the situation. He hissed as she drug the blade across his skin, but he quickly turned his palm down for his blood to drip onto the candle, which Dinadan lit.

Cannibal and Runt weren’t visible at first, but then Michael saw them, both laying behind their respective masters, staring intently at what was already well on the way to being a ritual site.

“With war dieties, surrender and peace must be shown. Everyone needs to get on their knees and rest their hands on their legs with the palms facing up”, Lancelot said. Guinevere and Dinadan quickly did as asked, closing their eyes like seeing The Morrigan appear would ruin it. Lancelot disappeared from view only to come up behind Michael moments later.

“Put this bowl in the middle of our square”, he said. Michael took the heavy bowl, made of some red crystal and set it as close to the square’s center as he could reach. It was full of what looked like fresh ground beef, given the fact that it was still bloody. Lancelot came back to his spot across from Michael with a steel wine glass filled with red liquid that he really hoped was actual wine and not pig’s blood or something.

He placed the glass next to the bowl and mimicked the position of the other three. Michael at last gave in and closed his eyes, hoping nothing evil or possessed would come out of the trees and kill them. For many moments there was no sound other than the rustling of leaves in the wind and everyone’s breathing before Lancelot finally began to speak, first in Welsh, then in French, then in Irish and finally in English. His voice was nearly disembodied by the fourth incantation and the wind had started to blow strongly, carrying the sound of Crows in it.

“Oh highest goddess of Tir Na Nog- Angel of Death and Queen of War, we offer you gifts for a boon to enter your realm and return a mourned and departed soul to the land of the living”,

He repeated it over and over, his voice beginning to get raspy. A chill fell over the area and the wind blew so very cold. The crows in the distance started to get louder, and just as suddenly as it started, it stopped once more. When it stopped, there was another presence that had not been there before, but Michael didn’t dare open his eyes  Suddenly a commanding yet motherly voice spoke somewhere above his head.

“Who is this soul you so seek?” the voice questioned. Michael could tell she wasn’t facing him.

“Magnolia Lacey Du Lac, but everyone just calls her Lacey. She was born around noon on the first of April in 556, and died on September seventeenth of twenty twenty two. She was killed by a half demonic, half mortal animal in Washington D.C. in North America around midnight. We seek to bring her back to life, as her time was cut short”, Dinadan said. It was something he’d been rehearsing word for word in the car, and he did it well, although his voice was shaking badly.

“Why do you desire to resurrect her, Guinevere?” the voice asked. The sound of chewing could be heard, and Michael tried not to think about who or what was eating raw, bloody beef.

“She is my daughter- My only child and the one thing that gave my life meaning. I saved my daughter by sending her away into a different time and place. I got her back, only for her to die in my arms. Lacey was everything to me, and the driving force for everyone around her. We do not just want her back…We

need

her back, Priestess”, Camelot’s former queen said.

“Sir knight?’ she asked, addressing Lancelot once more.

“Lacey was my daughter too, and I stabbed her in the heart to make her end less terrible. Surely she is meant for something more. Her body has not decayed where it rests in a lonely grave, and the wounds dealt in the battle that took her life are healed. She is meant for something more. It wasn’t simply her time. She would have decayed if that were the case. She’s also part of the trifecta- The Prophecy of Three Knights. The Soldier, The Poet and The King who fight in the battle to end all wars. It had been a legend and a prophecy since before the time of Camelot. It has been around since Haven started. It clearly speaks of a woman marching into battle with no fear- Able to stare death in the face and laugh, with an Angel at her left and a knight who never wanted violence on her right. They alone are destined to lead legions of armies, but all three of them must be alive for such to transpire”, Lancelot said. Michael felt a chill run up his spine at his uncle’s words. He remembered Haven’s crest in the old meeting room and it made far too much sense now.

“What is it you desire from this resurrection child?” The Morrigan asked Dinadan now.

“Lacey showed me how to adapt to a new time and place. She was there at one of my lowest points and has never shown me an ounce of judgment. She has treated me better than the court back home as well as my family. I have seen nothing but compassion from her. Haven needs Lacey. Without her, I fear it may lose and let go of its very core values”, Dinadan said. His voice was trembling, and Michael wanted nothing more than to reach out and grip his hand to calm him down, but it was like he was frozen. Unable to do anything but sit there and wait.

“Fallen One…Do they speak the truth?” she asked. Michael could tell she was looking at him even though he hadn’t opened his eyes. He could feel her immense strength and power, feel it rolling off of the deity in waves. It took him a moment to speak.

“Yes, Priestess”, he said.

“All six of you will rise to your feet. You will follow your senses to my temple, and I shall meet you there”, she said. Michael opened his eyes as he started to stand up. The candles had been blown out, the meat in the crystal bowl was gone and the wine glass was empty. Michael opened his mouth, but no words came out. He took Dinadan’s uninjured hand in his own and followed the other couple, who was following the animals. Not a peep came out of the people or the two dragons. The temple came into view fast, a crumbling stone structure overgrown by lichen and vines. The space was dark and damp, filled with animal bones and charred wood. Very little light from outside was able to creep into the temple.

In a corner with a pile of bones, a woman’s silhouette could be seen, so still that Michael would have thought it to be a statue were it not for the two glowing red orbs reflecting the limited light and staring straight at him. Michael followed everyone’s lead and began to kneel before the stern, commanding tone from the field spoke again.

“You need not kneel to me when I have been so gracious”, she said. She let a silence hang in the air, and seemed as though she was wallowing in the suspense she was creating.

“Your boon is granted. You may locate the girl’s spirit and talk to her. If she does not resist, I will release her spirit into the world once more, but they are known to retreat to strange places. I cannot promise that Lacey, as you call her, will be in this area or even this country if I free her. Get her spirit back to her body within three months. I will meet you at her grave, and enact the resurrection process. You’re very lucky. I remember Lacey, that one. She nearly made the defcision to reincarnate, but someone convinced her otherwise”, she said.

In that moment, the temple seemed to shift off kilter, and Michael felt himself fall, but he never struck the ground, instead finding himself on his feet once more on rough gray stone, standing before a towering entity.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

The Morrigan had to be at least ten feet tall. She was a woman with skin and hair as black as coal. Her hair seemed to waft around her head like it was being blown around by wind that did not exist. Upon closer inspection, her hair seemed as though it was black tendrils rather than actual hair. She didn’t have an iris or pupil in her eyes, but they were rather endless pits of a red not unlike the shade of blood. However, they reflected light just like those of a wolf or cat would.

She was naked from the waist up, with Crow feathers sprouting from the skin on her arms and in a ring around her neck. A sword belt ornately carved gold, sat on her waist, an impossibly huge blade attached. Around her hips sat an animal skin of white fur secured by gold ringlets punched through it. If Michael had to guess, it was wolf fur.

Michael thought the Dragons would be antsy, but they were quiet and looking around curiously, despite the jet-black and ghostly white horses walking around. Off in the distance on a mountain, there was a wolfpack looking as though they were hunting, but the animals were so damn big. The souls were easy to discern from gods. While he couldn’t see many gods, they were all huge and peculiar. A man with gold skin and no face was wading into the clear water of a nearby lake, reflecting like he was as bright as the sun. On a rock by the water sat a woman with blue and yellow skin, her long hair as green as grass. She was dressed in white robes, and although he had no knowledge of Irish mythology, Michael knew that she was a goddess of health or healing.

The ground they stood on was pure stone with flowering ivy growing through cracks, a black wall of nothingness to the left and right. To the left was a field of tall grass where the horses were grazing, and beyond it was an expansive forest where laughter could be heard. In front of him was a lake, a wooden makeshift dock sitting there with boats tethered to it. The lake led to a rocky landmass, where the wolves howled in the mountains. There were people out on the shore on the sand. An old woman sat in the field, surrounded by flowers and knitting what looked like a sweater. She held it up to a man in a firefighter uniform, and his face lit up in a smile.

“Don’t be worried, the Kelpies and Weres can’t harm you here. Your Dragons won’t follow you to the islands, so it’s best to let them explore. They might find you, but they already seem interested in exploring. I didn’t mean to bring your pets through, but it’s very unlikely to be an issue. This is the entrance to Tir Na Nog, which you may know in your culture as Annwn or the Underworld. Across the lake is the island of Tech Duinn, which is where the souls who lived ordinary lives go. To its right is Eamain Ablach, which I would suggest avoiding. In Western culture, It’s the equivalent of Tarturus or Hell, where we punish evil. You will find Lacey in Mag Mell, the land of heroes. It is about a day’s float away from here. Good luck on your journey and do not waste time”, The Morrigan spoke in an indisputable authoritative tone, leaving no room for them to question what she said.

The Morrigan shrunk, dissolving into a black mist that sizzled as it sunk into the stone, a crow rising from it with a loud cry and flying off quickly. Michael was still breathless. He looked up at the ceiling, only to see an expanse of swirling grey clouds. There was no way to see through it. Michael let curiosity get the better of him, and pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. It wouldn’t even turn on, which was confusing because it had been fully charged when they left. Lancelot and Guinevere nodded to him, as though they had already tried to look at their phones and had the same thing happen.

“I wonder where we’d end up if we came here when we died…At this point, I don’t know if they would give us the option or just throw us into a random Pantheon.” Guinevere mused, reaching out to a curious Kelpie that sniffed her hand, snorting in what seemed to be disappointment.

“I don’t have any apples for you, I’m sorry”, she chuckled at the animal.

“But you are followed by the presence of ancient gods. Everyone can feel it.” Michael pointed out only for his aunt to shrug.

“My family hails from what became Rome and is now Italy. They worshipped ancient gods that no one knows the names of- probably couldn’t pronounce them. The gods are older than those of Ancient Mesopotamia. There is no way of knowing if those dieties even have their own Pantheon for souls they claim. It’s not something I dwell on”, she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. Michael turned to his uncle, waiting for a response from him.

“When Galahad died searching for that damn grail, I promised my soul to the Abrahamic Pantheon so I could see my son again and make up for the time we never had”, he said. Dinadan came up to Michael and laced their fingers together. There was a slight fearful shake to his hands.

“I’m leaving it up to the gods. No matter where I end up, I’m going to push for reincarnation. I haven’t regained any memories, but I have this unavoidable feeling that this life is not my first.” his boyfriend said. Michael squeezed his hand, although he wasn’t quite sure why.

“I don’t know where I’m going, but I like to live in the moment so it really isn’t something I care about”, Michael said, avoiding the fallen angel subject. He had yet to bring it up to his aunt and uncle. Didn’t know how and didn’t want to in the first place.

“Well, let’s uh…hop in a boat then”, Guinevere said, walking off towards the dock. The dieties and many of the animals on the small rocky surface didn’t seem aware of their presence or at least didn’t care enough to acknowledge that they existed. Michael was perfectly fine with that because every single deity he’d seen so far looked absolutely terrifying and he didn’t want to catch their attention and have them take an interest, let alone get on one of their bad sides. He didn’t know what would happen if he pissed a god off.

I really hope they can’t read our minds,

he thought, stepping into one of the little wooden boats.

We can, but we usually ignore the souls that enter our realm. You are not offending us,

a thought rang back in his head. Michael jumped, looking around for the source of that thought because he knew damn well it hadn’t come out of his brain, but all of the gods in the entrance weren’t paying attention, and the ones on the sandy beach of Tech Duinn had only looked up briefly to see who was coming across the water.

“We really just entered a whole other world”, Dinadan muttered, looking around at the world around them. The adults were handling the rowing and Dinadan and Michael sat in the middle, pressed shoulder to shoulder.

“We did. It’s for a good cause though, and we’ll be out of here soon”, he assured. As they neared the coast of Tech Duinn and began to circle along the coast as a way of avoiding the island of the damned entirely. On the right side of the island a young girl ran out of the brush and started waving her arms to get their attention. She was tall and lanky, pale. She had bright blue eyes and long, straight hair. She looked very similar to Lacey, but she was shorter, a few shades darker and her hair was light brown whereas Lacey’s was blonde.

“Guys, I think we should stop”, he said. Guinevere looked skeptical.

“What harm can it do?” he asked his aunt. The land on the beach was rough, rocking the small vessel. The girl ran up to them and started rambling, out of breath from running up to them. Her voice was familiar, but Michael couldn’t figure out why. He was absolutely sure he’d never seen her before.

“I know why you’re here”, she said. If that wasn’t cryptic…Michael found that extremely confusing. Did everyone know why people were there when they came into the realm from the mortal world? It was confusing and dizzying to him. She didn’t seem evil, and she was definitely human, not a deity or any other kind of divine being. Something about the way she looked was reminiscent of his sister and uncle, to the point that he wondered if she’d been a Faerie in a past life, or in her most recent life.

“Uh…Alright?” Lancelot mumbled, which was his way of asking someone what the hell they wanted. She stood up straighter, dressed in all gray. There were people like that. Some of them were dressed in gray robes and walked around barefoot, but others were dressed in everyday clothing. He wondered if it was because their clothes were destroyed when they died, or if they hadn’t been wearing any clothes when they passed.

“I can help you find her…My name is Emily”, she said. That caused a chill to run down Michael’s spine. He knew that name, and he now knew exactly where she got her familiarity from. She was related to Lacey. She was Lacey’s daughter, her child. Michael didn’t remember his sister, but Lacey had told him about her when she broke down on what would have been her birthday. She was the product of their adoptive dad getting bored with his wife and taking advantage of his fourteen-year-old adopted daughter.

“Help us find who?” Guinevere questioned, seeming to be distrustful of this girl still. She held the oar she had been using like she was prepared to make it become a weapon to fight her off.

“Magnolia Du Lac, but everyone calls her Lacey,” she said. Michael couldn’t read the expression that Lancelot and Guinevere shared.

“She’s in Mag Mell- Island of the Heroic”, she said.

“How the hell do you know my daughter?” Lancelot asked, just as defensive as his wife, if not more. Emily looked at the ground and shifted awkwardly.

“Because I was her child”, she said. Lancelot coughed.

“It makes sense, she had an abortion”, he said with a shrug. Dinadan shook his head next to him and finally spoke.

“At fourteen weeks, that’s too early for a soul to develop. It was just a vessel when she had it removed”, his boyfriend stated. Emily sighed, still staring down at her feet on the dark sand.

“I’m not the result of a late pregnancy termination. Just know that it is impossible to lie here, therefore I will not elaborate. My origins are my mother’s to share. It was her experience”, Emily said. Michael was confused. How could Emily stand before them as a teen or young adult when she had died as a newborn?

“Get in, Emily”, Lancelot said. Michael couldn’t figure out the emotions laced in his tone, but they were deep and dark and heavy.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

After some rowing, Lancelot and Guinevere seemed to come to a silent mutual decision to just let the current push them to the island. Michael didn’t know what to call this body of water. It seemed to stretch out as far as the eye could see like an ocean, but it had currents like a river and it was crystal clear like a lake. Knowing how things had been going as of late, it was likely that it was something else entirely. The group came to sit in silence, the adults staring off at the horizon line and the water. Michael sat with Dinadan on his left, his head on his shoulder probably wishing he was anywhere else, and Emily on his right. It was so weird. She was grown up and alive, radiating heat like any living person would, but she was dead.

There was no doubt that Emily had been alive, at least for a few months, because she’d been kicking and such, and she wasn’t born early. But she never took a breath. She was born dead, and Lacey had never told him why. Fate, choking on the cord, or maybe from Lacey being beaten around by their adoptive family. Either way, his sister had told him that Emily hadn’t even been buried.

Michael didn’t press about that but he knew enough to figure that what organs of Emily’s were salvageable had been taken out and her body was either cremated or otherwise discarded as medical waste.

“I’m confused, Emily”, he said, keeping his voice low so anything that would be overheard would be kept to a minimum. She looked at him, with Lacey’s eyes, and Michael tried not to be sad about it.

“You died when you were a newborn, so why are you my age? Even if you did grow up in this world after you died, you should be sixteen and a half, not my age or older”, he said. Emily shrugged and sat up straighter from the slouching position she had previously been in.

“Spirits are strange, brother. I passed away when I was born, but the reason is for my mom to disclose. I was born at thirty-five weeks, so I had only been alive for eleven weeks, and existed in my physical body as a soul for even less. I immediately came before a council of dieties that told me I could move on to an afterlife of my choosing or reincarnate”, Emily said. Michael nodded to let her know he was listening.

“I knew my mom would end up in Tir Na Nog, and that she still missed me since she didn’t get a proper goodbye. I chose to come here and await her arrival. It also connected, because when he soul made its way before the dieties, she asked about me, and came here, so it’s sort of a paradox.” Emily explained. Michael shook his head.

“That doesn’t explain why you’re like…this even though you never grew up”, he said. Emily sighed, and if she’d been looking at him, Michael was sure he’d have seen her roll her eyes.

“This is what I would have looked like if I was able to grow up in my body. I can change the age I appear as. Usually, I’m around sixteen or seventeen, since that’s how old I’d be in the mortal realm. When I’m playing with the animals or swimming, I make myself younger- Around six or seven, and when I’m out and about like this, I make myself older, twenties to thirties because I have more stamina this way. I’m able to move freely between the islands because I never lived. There’s no way to know if I would have worked a nine-to-five until I retired, or become a serial killer or some heroic surgeon. Usually, I hang around the entrance and greet new souls or Tech Duinn. I really only go to Emain Aldach when I have anger to let out. I haven’t hung around Mag Mell because I don’t think I would have been a heroic person in life, but I’ve been going there lately to be around my mom”, she said. Michael was going to let it go when curiosity got a hold of him once again.

“Emily, if you can move between realms and islands, can you enter other Pantheons if you wanted to?” he asked. His sister nodded, allowing Michael to ask his follow-up question.

“Do you think you’d be able to figure out where someone is…Like where they went and if they were being punished or comfortable?” he asked. It had been something that regularly plagued his mind, especially as of late.

“Yes…You’re asking about your biological parents, aren’t you?” she asked. Michale nodded.

“My mother’s name was Halima Amani Jaziri, but no one has ever known who my dad is”, he said. He wondered if she knew he wasn’t a human. The Morrigan had known it without anyone saying a word. She had called him ‘fallen one’. That was unnerving at best, but luckily, Emily didn’t say anything about his being an Angel assuming she could tell.

“Halima entered the Abrahamic pantheon. She’s in Heaven. Your dad, however…I can’t access information about a soul without going into the pantheon and tracking them down. His name was Aoi Takahashi sorted into the Greek Pantheon and in the pits of Tartarous. Knowing that your birth mother was young and your dad was in his forties…I think you can put together the pieces as to why he’s in a form of hell”, Emily said. Michael nodded. He didn’t want to know. He didn’t really care about his dad, he was just happy that his mom was living an eternity of peace with no suffering to be found.

“Michael, I know you’re a fallen angel. And I know that you are on the verge of getting your wings back. Souls can sense other souls as well as sense divine entities. I knew what you were the moment I saw you. I knew Lancelot was Fae, I knew Guinevere was at least half Elf. I don’t know what Dinadan is, but he’s got a presence going on. We were told you’d come to this room searching for someone. I’m surprised that you entered the twenty-first century. Yahweh cast you down nearly a thousand years ago. I guess no one dictated where or when you’d appear”, Emily said, whispering right by his ear. It was a little uncomfortable, especially with his boyfriend asleep on his shoulder and his aunt and uncle nearby.

“What does that have to do with anything?” he asked. He knew why he fell, he knew he was on the way to being forgiven, but he also knew that another Angel, Raziel, had taken his position as the warrior Archangel and was now the right hand of that god. He was unlikely to ascend again and as far as he could tell, he was immortal until proven mortal, although he hoped he was mortal.

He didn’t want to carry on living if Dinadan died.

“You know, brother, for someone head over heels in puppy love with Dinadan, you have some really impure thoughts about your knight in shining armor”, Emily said. Michael felt his face heat up and tugged at the collar of his shirt in search of relief from how hot it had suddenly become. He looked down at the wooden floor of the boat, unable to look Emily in her eyes. He didn’t really mind it, though.

Not when she had the eyes of a corpse and a murderous knight.

He should have figured that if the dieties could read minds the souls could too. Oh, it was going to be hell when they met Lacey, but Michael didn’t know how to begin to block people out assuming he was able to do that. Lacey would kill him when she came back to life if she read those thoughts.

“I…Look, you’re dead so I’m assuming you’ve never been in a relationship. When two people love each other a lot and want to express it, they-

“Michael, I know. I’m not stupid, I’m just telling you to be safe”< she said. Michael tilted his head in confusion.

“We’ve both been tested. We don’t have any diseases or STIs. And we’re both biologically male. No kids are going to come from anything we may or may not do behind closed doors. The only possibility of children is if we don’t die, get married in however long, and stay stable long enough to adopt. Even then, only if Dinadan wanted to. I don’t mind kids but I don’t know how he feels about it. Not to mention, we would quit Haven and get far away from all that before we thought of starting a family. I don’t even know if we’re ready to talk about pets. I don’t get involved with his salty-ass Wyvern- That thing would take my hand off if I tried to pet him.” Michael rambled, talking about Cannibal.

“I don’t care if you do or don’t have sex, I’m just saying to be careful what you do when you’re here. Things can be a little out of the ordinary and you never know what can happen. Number one, it’s gross. We don’t have buildings at all. Unless you’re into getting caught, I wouldn’t recommend it. I’m just telling you to be careful because the afterlife will reward you the hardest and screw you over the fastest. Also, treat him well. I’m not going to air another person's dirty laundry, but your boyfriend has been through a lot of negative experiences. He won’t admit it, but he needs you.” Emily said. It was a little terrifying how observant his once-dead sister was. Michael shrugged and tightened the arm he had wrapped around Dinadan’s shoulders. His knight didn’t wake up, just shifted and tightened the hand on his shoulder.

“I know he needs me. I’m there when he wakes up screaming. I’m there when harmless food makes him sick, I’m there when he worries so bad that he can’t breathe and I’m there when he doubts himself. I also know he’ll never admit it. And Emily…Can you keep this a secret”, he asked. His sister nodded.

“I need him just as much as he needs me”, he said.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Mag Mell was a heavily forested island. It looked like a rainforest, and it actually had bright, colorful birds flying around the impossibly tall treetops. That island was sunny, where there had been a thick smattering of dark clouds earlier that day. It had been hours, as everyone had managed to sleep in the boat, but there didn’t seem to have been a nighttime there. The sky was distinctly normal looking. It was clear blue and the sun hung bright in the sky. It seemed almost too ordinary.

MIchael couldn’t see anyone on the island at first, but they soon came into view. A lot of them were dressed in uniforms. Soldiers and officers and such, but there were a few everyday people out and about as well. There was no sight of the one person he was looking for, though. The boat didn’t struggle as much as it was on the other island. After everyone had stepped out, Michael discovered that he had no sea legs, as his legs gave out under him and Dinadan had to help him up.

As they walked onto the beach, with white stand and colorful pebbles unlike the other island beaches. After they were a way’s away, a group of people latched ropes onto the boat and tugged it all the way up onto the shore, seemingly a routine that left them unaware of the newcomer’s presence.

“Do they know people are…?” Lancelot started to ask the question that was on everyone’s mind.

“Spirits are always aware of new presences on their islands, but they usually just ignore it. This isn’t unusual”, Emily said. She was looking up and down the crescent of sandy beach and into the tree line.

“Mom! Mom, your parents and brother are here!” she called. A few heads turned, but none of them seemed to care about it, losing interest quickly.

“Usually she’s out on the beach rocks or wading in the water. Sometimes she sits in the forest, but she doesn’t usually go very deep.” Emily said. She walked into the tree line, still calling for her mom. Michael shared a look with his aunt and uncle before following their lead into the woods. Dinadan held onto Michael’s hand. He had been quiet and reserved since they got to Tir Na Nog and it was starting to make him nervous.

“Are you okay, Dina?” he asked. Dinadan shifted closer to press against Michael’s side and sighed.

“I want…I just…Every friend and family member I’ve had has died and I just…I can’t help but wonder if they’re here. I almost want to ask, but I don’t know what the legends say became of me, and I don’t know what I would say if anyone was here. I’m sorry I let you die. I’m not mad that you stabbed me,. I don’t blame you for falling to your death?” he said, a bitter tone in his voice. Michael gripped his hand tighter. He hadn’t planned on admitting it to his boyfriend, but he had done a little digging into the legend his existence had become part of.

“I looked into that, actually. Every source loses track of you after you’re stabbed by Agravain. Most sources left out the part about you only being a little dead and Isolde being able to save you. The few that kept track of you after the Holy Grail stuff has you go down at Camlann and disappear in a flash of light. Everyone says you ascended or something”, he said. Dinadan tilted his head and made a confused noise.

“The battle of Camlann doesn’t happen until eight years after I was brought into this time line. Unless another version of me exists, it’s impossible for me to be there what with the time machine being broken”, Dinadan said. Michael shrugged.

“Maybe it was a sibling pretending to be you or something. Maybe it was made up entirely”, Michael said. Some of it had been added in by the authors over time. There was no such thing as questing beasts in the geographical location everything had gone down in. Morgan hadn’t been out to kill her brother, she just liked to mess with him and Elaine of Shallott didn’t die of a broken heart.

“You know Emily wouldn’t care if you aked her to tell you where people had ended up, right? I spent like an hour asking her about the people who brought me into this world and about life in general, which was kind of weird since she was technically only alive for eleven weeks sixteen years ago, but whatever, I guess”, Michael said. Dinadan chuckled next to him, looking up at the golden light streaming down through the canopies of the trees. Michael didn’t understand it. Mag Mell was most definately a rainforest but it wasn’t hot or humid at all. It was actually a really comfortable temperature.

“You’re taking all the weird shit in stride”, he said. Michael laughed and looked down into Dinadan’s wide eyes.

“If I don’t take this all in stride its going to make me start pulling my hair out and writing on the walls with pig blood, and then Aimee’s going to have to get a new secretary because I’ll be wearing a straight jacket locked in a white padded room mumbling about Angels and shit. You all would only be able to see me on mondays and holidays, and you would be so ashamed of what I became and so lonely that you would dress in all black and start telling people I died because Haven and all the crazy things that go on in it had taken the man you loved away from you. “ Michael siad. Dinadan’s face fell, evidently not picking up on Michael’s dark, twisted humor that came out on occasion.

“That wasn’t funny”, his knight said quietly, suddenly staring at the ground. Michael shifted, removing his hand from Dinadan’s to place it on the small of his back and draw him closer.

“I’m sorry, that wasn’t my best joke”, he said. Dinadan laid his head on his shoulder as they stood on the edge of a river while Michael’s aunt and uncle filled a container with water and Emily talked about the color changing sharks in the water.

“You know I would never be ashamed of you, right Michael?” Dinadan asked, suddenly serious.

“Even if I was locked away in a looney bin”? He asked.

“I’d get myself put in there with you”.

Emily was pacing along the river bed, looking like she was confused. She was different as well. She seemed shorter, her face softer and her hair longer. It took Michael a little to figure out why that was.

She made herself younger.

“I’m so sorry for wasting your time. When my mom isn’t on the shore, she’s always along this river. The only other place I can think of her being is the treehouse we built on the other end of the island. If she isn’t there, I’m afraid we’re going to have to track her down. She has to be somewhere on this island, I think she knew you guys were coming and worried about the reaction”, Emily said. Lancelot and Guinevere shared a look.

“So my thirty year old daughter is hiding from us?” she asked, giving Emily a look that screamed ‘you’re in so much trouble. If you were my kid, I’d sock you’. Emily shrugged, seemingly unaware that she’d attracted the anger of the woman that was her grandmother.

“Probably…The only thing I can say for sure is that she wouldn’t hide in the woods. She won’t go much further in than we are now. My mom likes being able to see the treeline because of how she…You know…” Emily trailed off. Michael’s head snapped up in surprise.

“You know how she died?” he asked. His first gues was that Lacey’s cause of death was either visible on her soul or it had been announced that she died saving her friends when she arrived in Mag Mell, but he wasn’t so sure about either of those theories.

“Yeah, she told me when I asked her why she didn’t like going into the forest”, Emily said. It was nice to know that she hadn’t gained those horrifying memories from reading their minds in one way or another. Spirit or not, that was a horrible thing to see or witness. Michael would know. Not only was he literally there, but he’d also seen the pictures much to his disdain.

Even though it was most certainly not the path Lacey would have taken, Emily led them through the rainforest. People were few and far between in the deepest part of the woods. Most of the souls Michael was able to spot were seated up i the treetops in groups of three to four chatting away. As they came out on the other side of the island, Michael felt like he was looking at a whole other place. This beach was cloudy, the sun just barely visible. The water was choppy and the sand was black on this side.

Michael stepped out onto the beach and turned, looking around for the treehouse Emily mentioned. He flinched when Lancelot grasped his shoulders and turned him around to face one of the trees with lower branches. A crude tree house sat cradled ontop of the thickest limbs, made of chopped wood, thick rope and wooden nails. It only had a roof, floor and three walls, meaning that one could easily see inside. It was empty save for a colorful bird that looked similar to a parrot occupied with arranging twigs into a nest in the corner.

“Okay, not here. Now what?” Lancelot asked. Michael could tell he was tired of following Emily around.

“Now we go around looking for her. Again, my mom doesn’t leave the island, so she has to be around here somewhere, and we can easily rule out her being deep in the jungle for obvious reasons. Even when she goes swimming in the river, she only goes so far before she turns around.” Emily said. Guinevere stopped her.

“You want us all to split up on an island in the afterlife of which we aren’t part of seeing as we didn’t die and wander around an island of dead heroes until someone finds her. Only three of the four of us have phones and they won’t even turn on!” Guinevere exclaimed. Michael was hoping the group would stay together given that splitting up was usually how things went south in a horror movie.

“Oh, no. I wouldn’t do that to you guys. I know where I’m going and what I’m doing, but you four are helpless.”, Emily said. She turned and headed down the coast, with everyone else soon trailing behind like a pack of stray dogs.

At first, when Michael saw someone sitting on a rock mass that would be under water when the tide was high, he didn’t think anything of it, and thought his aunt and uncle had finally lost it when they took off running down the beach to get to the person, but that was before he saw the details. A woman sat on the rock in a dark gray robe, absent of shoes. She had long, tigerstripe-like scars on the calves of her legs, and a pink scar covering the majority of the front of her neck. She had long blonde hair that sat in a loose braid. She was pale, but not to the point that she looked sickly , and she had the tell-tale piercing blue eyes of a faerie. It was undeniable, yet Michael couldn’t bring himself to believet that the sight before him was real. That this was true and not some insane fever dream.

“Lacey?”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Michael lost sight of her for a moment, she disappeared between Lancelot and Guinevere, and anything she would have said was drowned out by their voices. Michael almost called out at them not to hold her so tight- They might kill her all over again from lack of air, but decided it was far too soon and she was still technically dead. Emily stood ankle-deep in the water, just observing the exchange. Her face was expressionless save for the faint smile on her lips. He figured she’d had more than enough time spent with her mom.  One hundred and thirty-nine days with her mom, actually.

Michael knew exactly how many days had gone by since his life had been normal.

Dinadan was lurking off on the beach as well, awkward with his hands behind his back and watching as well. Michael could tell that he wanted nothing more than to run out there and greet Lacey because he’d missed her just as much as everyone else. She had been the first person he came out to, had always helped him with injuries and she was the first person to actually have listened to what he said. But he seemed content enough to let her family reconnect first.

As his aunt and Uncle finally pulled away and started to make their way back onto the sand, Lacey a few paces behind, Michael found his legs working of their own accord. He ran across the sand, kicking it up every which way. He ran into the chilly water, kicking up rocks as he ran, ignorant to the water soaking shoes, socks and jeans.

Lacey had just turned to him when Michael finally grabbed his sister in his arms. For a brief, fleeting moment, he thought she was like a ghost, despite being able to touch Emily and walking into some guy on the other island. That his arms would pass right through her and she’d fade away. After all, he hadn’t been close enough to see if her parents were actually making contact with how they had huddled together.

But that wasn’t the case.

Lacey was a solid shape, and just as warm as a human body. Her woolen robe was wet from the spray of the choppy waves and caused water to seep into Michael’s shirt. The wind was blowing her hair around and causing it to whip at his face and arms, he was able to feel his sister’s weight as he leaned back and lifted her a few inches of the ground. She smelled like salt water and freshly cut grass. He couldn’t feel her breathing, couldn’t feel the rise and fall of her ribcage against his, and he was acutely aware that he couldn’t feel her heartbeat.

“Lacey?” he asked again, setting his sister down and searching her face like it could give him all the answers he needed. She was still collarbone height on him. She was smiling, and her lips were still pale and thin, the right side of her mouth not moving as well as the left- A quirk she’d always possessed. She still had slight points to her ears, more noticeable than a normal human, but less defined than her mother’s. Piercing blue eyes- Unnaturally light but far less terrifying to look at than Lancelot was.

That’s because Lacey hasn’t taken out entire armies by herself,

he thought.

There was something new too. A mass of scar tissue on her throat, pink and slightly raised with a smaller healed gash peeking out from under her clothing. The result of that thing’s claws.

“Michael, how the hell did you get here? I would have sensed it if any of you died”, Lacey said. Her voice was still gentle and stern with a choked quality to it that meant she was hiding emotions. Undeniably Lacey’s voice.

“We summoned The Morrigan because uncle Lance kept getting signs from her and he figured out that you were in this afterlife. We also knew we’d be able to bring you back because your mom may or may not have dug your body up and discovered that you didn’t decay at all. So we traveled to Ireland, performed a ritual, earned the favor of a death goddess and here we are”, Michael said. Lacey’s eyes widened the way they did when she couldn’t believe he’d just said or done something. Once the flood gates were open, he couldn’t stop talking.

“Oh, I also met Emily’s ghost- That’s how we got here- and asked Dinadan out. He said yes, we made it official pretty recently, but don’t worry, you haven’t missed a proposal or anything. Apparently, I’m the reincarnation of Archangel Michael. I keep having visions in my sleep and I think I’m developing wings again. Also, If your dad says I impaled him with a pitchfork, he’s exaggerating. I lightly stabbed him with a fork on accident. He’s fine”, Michael told her in a rush. Lacey placed her hand on her chest as though to catch her breath. The waves were now rising up to hip level. The surf was coming in and the winds were only going stronger.

“You all didn’t die?” she asked hesitantly, beginning to walk out of the surf.

“No, we were brought here via a portal…or something like that”, he said, trailing off. In however long their exchange had been, Emily had scaled a rope ladder up into the treehouse and was waving for the others to join her. One look at the clouds convinced him to go. He stepped aside when they reached the ladder, offering for his sister to go first but she waved him off.

“They don’t have underwear in the afterlife kid. I’m as naked as the day I was born under this robe. Go first”, Lacey said, leaving no room for Michael to protest.

The inside of the treehouse seemed warmer than the outside environment. He had no idea if that was from the wood absorbing the heat from the outside air, or if was from the number of bodies suddenly crammed into the space. Emily sat beside Lancelot, leaning against the back wall of the treehouse. On his other side was Guinevere, and in her lap was Lacey. She had gone straight to her mom, seeming to have missed them just as much as they missed her, maybe even more. She didn’t even seem to be aware that her daughter was drenched in seawater.

Michael glanced down at his boyfriend as he leaned back and made himself comfortable with his head in Michael’s lap, He let his hand fall to his head, his fingers playing with his hair, but he couldn’t help the pang of worry that was swelling in his chest.

“Do you feel like you’re going to pass out?” he asked quietly, but to his surprise, Dinadan shook his head.

“You just make a good pillow. I actually haven’t felt like I’m going to faint since we got here, and I don’t think I’ve had any seizures, either”, he said. Michael made a surprised noise. But suddenly the others were talking.

“Illnesses don’t exist here. I’ve always needed glasses, but I can see just fine, and I didn’t die with my contacts in.”, Lacey was the first to speak.

“My shoulder hasn’t bothered me this whole time, and Lance hasn’t been sneezing even though we’re surrounded by plants. It makes sense”, his aunt said. Michael nodded, accepting it. Although there was still work to be done, it felt nice to just sit there and soak in each other’s presence. Lacey was the one to break the peaceful silence by clearing her throat.

“Mom, dad, Dinadan…Michael, to an extent. I think I owe you guys an explanation about Emily. What have you told them so far?” Lacey asked, addressing the spirit of her daughter.

“I told them I was your biological daughter and that I passed on before I was able to grow up. I explained how I got to the afterlife and why I’m able to do the things I’m capable of. I didn’t say anything you wouldn’t have wanted me to”, Emily said. The similarity between her and Lacey’s voices was absolutely uncanny.

“Okay…So, When I was twelve, I was adopted by the Andrews family. They were not good people, and I took a lot of abuse protecting Michael. I raised this kid from the moment he was brought home. When I was fourteen, Mrs Andrews’ husband came into my room at night drunk. I’ll skip the nitty gritty for everyone’s sake, but I never wore nightgowns again and then eight and a half months later, I go into labor with Emily. I was a fifteen-year-old working a part-time job trying to emancipate myself. Emily here was born on Christmas Eve of 2006, but it was a stillbirth. The doctors ruled it as blunt force trauma, which made sense. I only went into labor because someone at school threw me down a stairwell. I didn’t name her at the time…I’ll get back to that. I told the doctors to donate anything from her they could, and as far as I know she was either cremated or discarded as medical waste. Less than a month later, I was emancipated and getting my first apartment, then my first car, and then adopted Michael from them when I was sixteen.

It’s not that I forgot about Emily, but I pushed her to the back of my mind until MCR released a certain song, and the lyrics made me think of you for some reason. That’s when I decided that I would have named you Emily. So, yeah. Michael this is your sister. Dinadan, this would be your sister-in-law if you marry my brother, and this is you all’s granddaughter. But Emily can’t be brought back to life…Do you want to take over this part?” Lacey asked her daughter. Emily nodded.

“Part of the reason I chose not to reincarnate was that I wanted my mom to be able to have a real goodbye. That’s why I came to the afterlife she would be sorted into and why I waited all this time. Now that we’ve both gotten our wish, I would either be wasting my time, waiting forever or moving Pantheons and I don’t want to. I’m ready to move on, and whether or not I see any of you again is a matter of fate. In a few hours, I’m going to say goodbye to my mother and then come around to the four of you if you’ve got anything to say. After that, I’m going before the gods to be granted my reincarnation. I’ll make some kind of noticeable scar or mark on myself before than and show you so you’ll know it’s me if we cross paths but…” Emily trailed off like she didn’t quite know what else to say about the matter.

Lancelot and Guinevere were crying silently a bit, whispering apologies to their daughter. Michael made a point to not look. He didn’t want to cry.

“I didn’t know you too well, Emily…But good luck, I guess”, Dinadan said to her. Emily’s face broke out in a smile and she laughed.

“I’ll do my best”, she said with a chuckle.

“Thank you for bringing us to Lacey and keeping her out of trouble. We never would have found her without your help. I hope we meet again someday”, he said. Emily smiled at him but didn’t say anything. And she didn’t have to, Michael got the message loud and clear. Lacey made the same face when she was thankful and didn’t know how to express her gratitude with words.

His aunt and uncle were silent, meaning that they wanted to say goodbye in private, too.

“Lacey, I know it’s kind of obvious but I just wanted to make sure that you actually want to be brought back to life, correct?” Lancelot asked. Lacey nodded hard.

“Yes…For you guys, for Haven, for December. For all of it. I knew my clock wasn’t done ticking that night, and I’m starting to see why”, she said. Michael felt his face break into a smile and he leaned over to hug the woman that raised him once again.

We got her back,

he thought.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Michael didn’t know it rained in the afterlife, but they were safe from the downpour in the treehouse. Nightfall never came, but everyone fell asleep around the same time, going from conversations all together to talking in trios and pairs to just whispering to each other in the house, unsure of who was just resting and who was actually sleeping. Lacey and Emily slipped out at some point, and Michael only knew because one of them tripped over his legs. Lancelot and Guinevere followed not long after, but they returned before their daughter. Lacey came back alone about an hour later. Michael couldn’t be sure, but he thought he’d been able to hear her crying.

Lacey had slipped out with her parents once again not long after that, leaving Michael and Dinadan alone in the treehouse. When he finally woke up enough to take in his surroundings, he looked out at the beach. It was clear again, a roughness to the waves but nothing extreme. There were footprints in the sand, leading out to the shoreline and to the left, a group of three. To the right, a group of four walked out to an unseen dock, but only three sets returned. Michael looked down at the pressure on his chest.

He smiled at the sight. Dinadan had pressed against his side, his head on his heart, and ducked down to where Michael couldn’t see his face, but he could see a faint smile on his lips as if he was enjoying his dreams for once. One arm was tucked against his torso at what looked like it had to be an uncomfortable angle. The other rested over his stomach, gripping the fabric of his shirt loosely. One of his legs was kicked out, but the other was draped over Michael’s, and if he was thinking with the head between his legs instead of the one on his shoulders, that would’ve been awkward.

Dinadan stirred against him, the way he did when he was starting to wake up. Michael quickly tilted his head back and closed his eyes, pretending to be asleep so he didn’t look like a creep. He doubted Dinadan would actually give a shit, but he was scared of messing things up between them. His knight shifted to where Michael felt like he had eyes on him. He then turned his head and made to squint as he opened his eyes, pretending he just woke up.

He smiled down at his boyfriend and moved his arm off of him, stroking his hair with the other.

“Good morning, assuming time exists here”, Michael said. Dinadan smiled at him, and he felt a slight flutter in his chest, traveling first to his stomach and then lower. He was uncomfortable where he was laying. When Dinadan wasn’t using him as a pillow, he’d started sleeping on his side or rolled over completely. The wings in his back were very uncomfortable to lay on. Michael wasn’t sure they were ever going to come out or if they were trapped under his skin, but he would rather be safe than sorry.

“Morning…Where is everyone?” he asked, seeming to have noticed the absence of noise and the warmth of other bodies in the space. Michael shrugged and sat up when Dinadan moved off of him enough.

“Emily left, permanently, I’m assuming. I don’t know if she’s still talking to the gods or if she already got reincarnated. Lacey and her parents left not that long ago. I’m not sure where they went but I know that they wouldn’t leave to get out of here without us. My best guess is exploring or finding somewhere private to talk. Who knows when they’ll be back” Michael said. Dinadan nodded. He sat up and stretched, but he didn’t seem too interested in getting up and actually doing anything yet. Suddenly, Dinadan erupted into laughter.

“Holy shit, I never thought we’d actually have free time in the afterlife. This isn’t…I can’t be the only one who feels like this is some elaborate fever dream and we’re going to wake up on the floor of that temple after being poisoned by someone or something right?” he asked. Michael chuckled.

“No, you are not”, he said.

Dinadan settled back down next to him, and Michael unconsciously laid his hand on his leg.

“I’m scared”, his boyfriend said suddenly, with little enough warning that it startled Michael.

“Why are you scared?” he asked. Dinadan shrugged.

“Well, I’m scared about not getting out of here, but more than that…I haven’t had any seizures since we came here. What if it’s worse when we go back to the mortal realm? These things can kill me, and I can’t shake the feeling that they’re either going to be worse or more frequent or both when we go back”, he said. Michael moved over and grasped his hand, waiting for Dinadan to meet his eyes.

“And if, not when, if that happens, I will be right here. I will be here to catch you and bring you back around. December will be there too. We can’t cure it, but we’re going to help until we can’t help anymore”, Michael told him. Dinadan gave him a faint smile.

Michael leaned forward and captured Dinadan’s lips in his. It started soft, started gently. No more than soft brushes of lips and gentle touches of arms and chests before it grew in intensity, teeth knocking together, Dinadan was gripping his shoulders and arms, and Michael discovered that his hand was creeping up Dinadan’s thigh, the other at his own belt buckle. He pulled off, at first to kiss the side of his boyfriend’s neck, and then to ask a question.

“Are you wanting to..?” he asked, trailing off. Dinadan only nodded, kicking his boots off and starting to try to tug his sweater off. Michael helped quickly lift the garment over his head and started to tug at his belt, feeling him getting hard under his hand.

Michael brushed his fingertips over Dinadan’s scars, feeling their scars, some raised, and some of them deep dents in his skin, kicking his dress shoes off. Dinadan reached down to the buttons of his shirt, undoing them shakily. While he was busy with the buttons, Michael tugged down on the waistband of Dinadan’s pants, and his boyfriend lifted his hips to help him out. He found himself becoming overwhelmed with desire, everything Emily had told him about being careful gone from his mind. Michael shoved his own slacks down, not having the patience to completely remove them.

He leaned down and captured Dinadan’s lips in his once again, grasping his member in his hand, stroking him to full hardness and slowly teasing him. His boyfriend quietly whimpered against his mouth as Michael’s finger found its way to his entrance. He leaned back once more.

“Is this okay?” he asked. Dinadan hummed and nodded, tilting his head back. Michael slowly pushed his finger inside his boyfriend, searching his face for discomfort. He was met with a slight bit of resistance that caused Dinadan to furrow his brows a little before he got past it.

“Are you still okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, it’s…It was a little uncomfortable but now it’s kind of just…there”, he said. Michael moved, just slightly to be for sure that he wasn't hurting Dinadan or making him uncomfortable at all.

“Have you ever had someone do this…I mean, no judgment at all. You’re the only person I’ve been intimate with”, Michael asked, curious. He was trying to figure out how slowly he needed to take things. Dinadan shook his head.

“I’ve never been with someone. I’ve…experimented with my own fingers but that’s it”, he said. Michael nodded, working his finger back and forth a few times, careful not to pull it out completely. Michael watched Dinadan’s face carefully as he pushed in with his ring finger. Dinadan at first took a breath before he suddenly hissed. Michael froze.

“Dina…” he started.

“You need to get your fingers wet.” he said. Michael removed his fingers, confused.

“What?” he asked.

“

That

just stung. I think part of it is because of what we’re doing but a lot of it is that your hands are dry and I’m not…y’know…I don’t

“I get it”

“Okay. You need to like…Spit on your hand, or

I

need to spit on your hand, or use water or lotion or…literally anything that won’t give me some kind of infection”, Dinadan said. Michael thought for a moment and fished through all of thier clothing pockets before he kicked his pants off and looked out at the deserted beach to make sure no one would be able to see them.

“Let’s go in the sea, then”, he said. It was Dinadan’s turn to look confused.

‘Uh…”

“Water’s wet, and maybe buoyancy will make things…”

“Michael, I get the picture!” he exclaimed, his face red. Dinadan was close behind as Michael made his way out to the water. The waves weren’t as choppy as before. The bed was a gentle slope. Once you were actually in the sea-bed and not just out where the waves rolled up, the water was about knee deep, twenty feet out it was waist hight, and another ten it hit chest height on Dinadan. It was most certainly salt water- Michael had learned that the hard way when he tried to drink a handful, but there didn’t seem to be any animals in the water, at least nothing that was interested in getting close to them.

Perfect.

MIchael leaned back in to kiss his boyfriend once again, brushing his damp hair behind his ear. He reached down and put his hand on the back of his leg, and Dinadan seemed to understand enough to lift his leg up and rest it on his hip. With the water holding them, Michael didn’t have to hold onto him.

MIchael started with two fingers this time, meeting the same resistance, but seeming to cause Dinadan less discomfort. Suddenly he hissed and tiled his head back.

“Are you…”

“Do that again”, he begged. Michael wasn’t quite sure what he’d done to earn that reaction.

“This?” he asked, thrusting his fingers a little harder than he had been like he’d just done, as he couldn’t think of anything else that Dinadan could be talking about.

“No…When you bent your fingers a little that felt...I’m not sure how that felt but I liked it” he said, laying his head on Michael’s shoulder once more. Michael tried to do as he described, crooking his fingers. It made Dinadan tense and squeeze his eyes shut, but not in the way that meant he was uncomfortable.

Michael was slow and gentle once again when he pushed the third digit in, trying to ignore his own desperation and desire to pound Dinadan into next week. His boyfriend gripped his shoulders tight, a groan escaping his lips. Michael held still again.

“Are you okay”? He asked again. Dinadan nodded against the side of his neck.

“Yeah…I’m just…Let me get used to it before you start moving”, he said. Michael obliged, waiting for a sign that never came. Dinadan reached down into the chilly water to grasp his wrist and gently rock himself up and down on Michael’s fingers. A few minutes, perhaps less- Michael couldn’t tell, passed before he fully lifted himself off of Michael’s hand.

“I think I’m ready, “ he said, shifting so he was straddling Michael’s waist. MIchael chuckled, trying to suppress his own nervousness.

“I thought it was terrifying”, he asked, though left out the comment about Dinadan having no problem stuffing it down his throat.

“It’s…kind of large Michael. Actually, how..?” Dinadan trailed off. He was hiding his face in Michael’s shoulder, but he could feel his face heated up in embarrassment.

“Eight and a half inches”, he said. Dinadan held himself aloft with his legs around his waist and arms around his shoulders, floating a bit in the water, and therefore easy to move around. It was easy for Michael to line himself up and push in, just his tip before he paused to gauge Dinadan’s reaction.

“Are you still okay with this?” Michael asked. Dinadan nodded.

“Yes…There’s a little sting but it’s fading a bit. I’m fine”, he said. There was a slight tremor in his limbs. Michael let him adjust before pushing up into him. Dinadan suddenly hissed and winced, grabbing Michael’s hip and lifting himself up a little.

“Holy shit, that was too much…Christ, you’re huge”, he said, laughing. That didn’t do much to help the situation but it did convince Michael that Dinadan wasn’t hurt.

Or he was hurt and just liked it.

“Maybe you should control this part”, Michael said. Dinadan nodded, taking his base in his hand and slowly sinking down past the slight resistance of some muscle bit by bit until he groaned, and Michael was met with a warm, tight wall when Dinadan had taken him about halfway. His boyfriend lifted off slightly and then back down and groaned again.

“Oh gods, that’s amazing”, he said.

“Do you want to be in control of this or do you want me to set the pace?” Michael asked.

“You”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Lacey, followed by her parents came up the ladder and into the treehouse just as Dinadan was pulling his sweater back on and Michael was tightening his belt. Lacey glanced between them but didn’t say anything. Lancelot was the only one who seemed to have a comment to make.

“In the afterlife?” he asked, a mildly disgusted expression on his face. Michael’s aunt reached out and smacked him in the arm.

“You and Galehaut- On the table. Not at it-

ON IT.”

she hissed at him. Lacey looked like she wanted to fade out of existence. Michael decided lying was the best option.

“We went swimming”, he said.

“Naked”? Lacey asked, raising her eyebrow in doubt.

“It’s February in the mortal realm, and we didn’t exactly pack swim trunks to visit a separate realm to hunt you down”, he said. Dinadan jumped.

“We didn’t come here with anything but the clothes on our backs, so yes. It’s not that strange to swim naked- At least when and where I’m from”, he said. Lacey shook her head.

“Besides, where the hell would we get any decent lubricant or condoms?” Michael asked as if he hadn’t used the pull-out method for fear of having something he didn’t know about not even ten minutes prior.

“Yeah, I don’t even know what either of those words mean”, Dinadan said.

“Okay, whatever. How about not skinny dipping on an island full of dead heroes next time?” his uncle said. Michael breathed what he hoped was an inaudible sigh of relief.

“Whatever…Where were you guys anyway?” he asked. He pretended not to notice his uncle rolling his eyes.

“Well first we went to send Emily off, then we sat with Lacey for a while and after that, we talked to an old friend of mine who was placed here. We need to make our way back to the entrance to this place and find The Morrigan so we can get Lacey out of here and back in her body. Like…Now, so start climbing down the ladder and quit looking like me like a dog that doesn’t want to lie down”, his aunt said. Michael climbed down the rope ladder faster than he knew he was able to.

Dinadan was a little unsteady on his legs as he walked, and Michael couldn’t help himself from letting a self-satisfied smirk slip through his face, even as he came closer to help steady him.

“So uncle Lance…The table?” he asked, trying to screw with him. His uncle walked faster, flipping him off but not turning around.

“The floor was cold and that is all you will ever get to hear about that”,

“How do we find her anyway. There are a lot of dieties that wander around with no way to track them and she’s one that doesn’t always stay in this realm. There are a lot of pagans that leave offerings and pray to her, so she visits her worshipers. The Morrigan is unpredictable at best anyway, and with the current state of the world, she’s even more questionable.” Lacey asked. She was ahead of everyone else with her mom. Dinadan and Michael were at the back of the train and Lancelot walked at an equal distance between both groups.

“Oh, please. I can’t be the only one who notices the big ass crow flying around us right? It just went over our heads a few minutes ago? That’s The Morrigan, I promise. She’s here, and seeing how interested she was in letting us through to collect Lacey’s soul, she might be waiting on us. Trust me, we’ve got her favor, so pick up the pace before we lose it”, Lancelot spoke. He seemed far more knowledgeable about gods and dieties than the rest of them. Michael’s best guess was that he was a former practitioner or actively practiced a religion and just wasn’t open about it. Everyone was looking around in confusion.

“You guys don’t feel the god touches that Aimee talks about? Chaos and mortality dieties…or at least such spirits are drawn to him.” Michael said in confusion. His aunt and boyfriend were looking at him like he was insane.

“I know what you’re talking about, and I’ve heard Aimee and December mention it”, Lacey said. That meant that Michael, Lacey, December, Amee, and Lancelot could sense dieties or divine beings. But that begged a new question entirely with no clear answer in sight.

“So why can’t the rest of us feel the god touches?” Dinadan asked what everyone else had to have been thinking. They could speculate all they wanted to but there would be little to no chance of actually reaching a plausible conclusion to the whole ordeal.

“I’d say that the people who can’t feel the god touch are just less spiritually connected than everyone else but that doesn’t make any sense. Michael doesn’t have a past life, assuming the fallen angel thing is real. Victor specializes in spirituality, and Freya has had multiple lives that she’s able to remember. And my mother’s gods are ancient, buried in her lineage. And despite that, she can’t sense divine beings. I want to speculate that it’s random but we all know better than that”, Lacey said. Michael wondered if she was as suspicious about Haven as he’d become. If she knew what he knew or maybe even more.

“I don’t think it’s something we need to worry about right now”, his aunt said, successfully putting an end to the conversation.

“Lacey, when you…when you stop being alive and come to a place like this, do you learn the answers to everything?” Michael asked his sister. He couldn’t be quite sure given that both he and Dinadan had been able to lie, but perhaps it was because they were simply visiting rather than actually deceased. That was the assumption at least. Michael still couldn’t quite figure out if it was that their spirits had left their bodies and were wandering around the afterlife, although that didn’t make sense, as they had their phones.

But that would mean that their bodies were laying in a temple in the woods.

“You must seek out the things you want the answers to. It doesn’t just come to you like a vision or something. I only sought out one answer. To know what became of the people who made our lives so miserable and I got it. Dead, both of them about a year after I adopted you. Got drunk and high and went speeding down the highway. Plowed into the back of a semi and died on impact. Apparently, it was pretty nasty. Serves them right”, Lacey said. Michael smiled. He couldn’t remember living with them. His first memory in his current life was from when he was three.

He didn’t recall the surroundings well, but he knew he had to have either been with a babysitter or at daycare, digging in a sandpit when a fat green worm crawled onto his leg and he jumped up screaming and kicking, ultimately tripping and falling on the barrier of the pit.

He still had the crescent-shaped scar behind his right ear.

But from what Lacey told him about what it was like to live with them and everything she’d done to keep him safe, he was lucky not to remember that.

“Why are you asking, anyway?” Lacey asked him as the boat rocked on the waves of the sea. For a brief moment, he contemplated telling her what he’d found. About what Aimee had to be covering up. The more he dug and the more he thought about it, the more disturbing everything was.

“I…Just curious”, he said, only briefly contemplating telling her what was actually going on with Haven. He didn’t feel like it was something he should bring up to his dead sister in the afterlife. It was disrespectful to some degree.

The group fell into silence once again, and Michael woke with the coast of the entrance to Tir Na Nog in plain view. He sat up more, careful not to disturb his boyfriend sleeping on his chest. A crow flew overhead, cawing loudly. It looked ordinary to him, nothing distinctly different that made it clear that this animal was something else entirely. The only thing about the Crow that was out of the ordinary was how big it was. It flew about fifty feet above the ground but looked like it was roughly the size of a small plane, tenfold the size of an ordinary bird.

It landed in a cloud of black mist on the stone floor, and when it cleared, The Morrigan stood before them once again. She looked roughly the same, pure black with red eyes, a wolf skin serving as a skirt, and an ornate sword belted to her waist. She watched them with her unnerving eyes as they approached but did not speak until their boat made landfall.

“What is your decision?” she asked, her voice echoing and far more disembodied than it previously had been.

“I wish to come back to life, goddess”, Lacey said, bowing as she came to her feet in a slightly awkward movement. The Morrigan nodded.

“Very well. Your spirit will be released and placed back in your body. However, seeing as you’ve been exposed to the afterlife for so long, it’s going to be a little different…You can never be fully human again. You have two options if you wish to come back and neither of them are particularly pleasant. The first option is to become a shade. You will be a human to an extent, but you will feel like and move like a corpse. You will become a creature of the night, and as you age your humanity will slip away and cause you to become more animalistic. Toward the end of your life, it will be impossible to tell that you were human. You will become what is often called a Rake, a Hidebehind, or a Will ‘o Wisp. Your second choice is to become a partial deity. You will be mortal but have the abilities of a deity. You will be able to cross between realms and judge mortals for their injustice, but you will be bound to this pantheon if you do such, a servant under me and responsible for selecting your position as a goddess- What your association is.” The Morrigan said.

Both those options sounded horrible to him, and were he in the same position, Michael would have tried to get out of it entirely, but he doubted that would end well. The Morrigan seemed nearly impossible to get one over on, and someone would either have to be incredibly stupid or brave to pull something like that on her.

Lacey was silent for some time before she spoke, still kneeling before the war goddess.

“I chose to serve you, goddess”, she finally said. The Morrigan reached out and placed her hand upon Lacey’s forehead, guiding her into a standing position.

“My name is Morrigan”, the goddess said to her.

“Where does your oversight lie?” she asked. Lacey was silent for some time before she muttered words low enough that no one quite heard what she said.

“Magnolia, primordial goddess of the damaged and broken, a bid your spirit free from this realm to wander and return to your body”, she spoke, and as she did, Lacey faded into a translucent ghost before a strong wind blew her away into the aether.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Michael didn’t know what happened between Lacey fading away into who the hell knew where and the stone floor beginning to crumble under his feet. When he peeled his eyes open, he found that he was looking up at the sky, blue with fluffy white clouds blowing by to the east. Tree branches with blooming buds and a few bright leaves were stretched out over the opening.

Crumbling grey stone walls were around him, and as his surroundings came in, Michael found that he was uncomfortable laying on his back, stone and vines under him. It was also suffocatingly hot, his shirt wet and clinging to him, the strong scent of sweat and the general reek of unwashed human bodies didn’t help him feel any less like gagging. As he sat up, he found his muscles stiff, his bones creaking and popping like he hadn’t moved in centuries.

To his left, Dinadan was the same way, struggling to sit up and gritting his teeth.

To his right, his aunt and uncle were in the process of struggling to their feet and straightening up but they looked just as stiff and uncomfortable, if not more. Runt and Cannibal were up, stretching and yawning. Michael had forgot the Dragons had even come with them. He pulled his phone from his pocket, expecting a few notifications, having been gone for no more than two or three days, but that wasn’t the case.

He had over a thousand notifications. Approximately one thousand three hundred and five.

Eight hundred and twenty two calls, one hundred and twenty texts, ninety one snaps, seventy tiktok notifications, sixty nine instagram comments, sixty missed face times, fourty two facebook notifications and thirty one unopened tweets.

“Do either of you have a shit ton of notifiactions?” his uncle asked. Both Michael and his aunt nodded, and he found himself doing a double take at his home screen. He hadn’t even unlocked his device yet. Apparently, his phone thought is was 1:18 PM, May twenty second, 2023.

Three and a half months after the last time he’d looked at it, but that was impossible.

“Is anyone else’s phone wigging out on them?” he asked, earning a confused glance.

“My phone says it’s May”, he said. His aunt and uncle looked down at the screens of their devices simultaneously, Were he not feeling so uneasy and confused, Michael would have laughed at it. They often did and said the same thing at the exact same time as though they were a unit, thinking with one mind. Sometimes it could be entertaining.

But as they both looked back up at him and then at each other with horrified expressions and wide eyes, Michael couldn’t bring himself to laugh.

“My last message is from Freya…She says she reported us missing but that was on April thirteenth”, Lancelot told him. His aunt finally started scrolling through her device.

“I have a bunch of texts and voicemails from Aimee and Victor saying a huge search is going on, and all my social media accounts were deactivated in early April”, Guinevere said. Michael finally worked up the courage to look through his own messages. Over half of all his calls, texts and facetime calls were from December. Every social media account and email he had was deactivated, and his Facebook, TikTok and Twitter were set to memorial pages.

Michael crouched down, distantly aware of his boyfriend’s hand on his shoulder and typed their names into google. Before he even got through the question, results started popping up.

Lance, Jennifer and Michael Du Lac, Daniel Black- The vanished Four

The vanished four missing

Are the vanished four alive?

Vanished four disappearance

Michael clicked on the first article that looked somewhat credible. It displayed his most recent school picture from his college I.D, listing his height, weight and appearance. Lancelot and Guinevere’s liscenses were displayed, and a photo of Dinadan from appeared to have been the group’s Christmas party were on display on the top of the screen, as well as his relevant information.

On February Third of this year, four plane tickets were booked by Jennifer Marie Du Lac(35) and her husband Lance David Du Lac(36). They departed with their nephew, Michael Lucas Du Lac(19- Now 20), and his best friend Daniel Thomas Black(17) on February fifth through American Airlines. They landed in Dublin, Ireland. They rented a white supercab ford F-150 with leather seats- A 2016 model. The liscense plate is 330892. The truck and their belongings have yet to be found.

They were last spotted leaving the parking lot of the Selkie Bed and Breakfast Hotel at 5:15 AM on the morning of February seventh near Woodburn Forest. There had been no trace of what the media has begun calling “The Vanished Four”, even though multiple searches have been conducted all across the EU. They are presumed dead due to the severe winter wheather and rugged terrain around the area where they must have gone missing.

Michael couldn’t bring himself to read anymore, his phone slipping from his shaking grasp. He stayed bent over, his hands on his knees. Dinadan was next to him, trying to get his attention. Lancelot was the one to finally break the silence.

“Everyone thinks we’re dead”, he said.

“Who’s to say we aren’t?” Dinadan asked before elaborating.

“I mean think about it. We were definitely concealed or someone would have found us here by now if it really had been three whole months. I’m not saying we’re dead now, but our bodies were all stiff and our skin was waxy when we first came to. And I don’t know about you three, but I smell like death itself. Besides, we were quite literally in the afterlife. Time is different in other realms, but the point is…What if just our souls went to Tir Na Nog and our bodies have been here in The Morrigan’s temple this whole time?” Dinadan asked. Michael felt his world fall off kilter, and found himself leaning over to throw up.

Even though he presumably ate nothing in three months, the pancakes and orange juice he’d had for breakfast was what came out of his mouth.

“Lance, can you see if the truck’s still there and see if it runs?” his aunt asked. Some time passed, enough that Michael let himself be moved into a sitting position.

“Do you have a notes app on your phone?’ she asked suddenly, throwing Michael completely off guard.

“What?”

“I need to make a list…Do you have a notes app on your phone? I don’t and my phone runs off of cell service so I can’t just download it”, she said. Michael nodded and opened the app.

“Okay, are you ready to type?”

“Yes, aunt Guin”.

“We need two boxes of hair bleach and four boxes of natural shade hairdye. We also need cologne, perfume, tampons, deodorant, shoes, socks, undergarments and clothes. One backpack, some canned food, plastic silverware, and bottled drinks.” she said. Michael nodded, typing it in.

“What the hell?” he found himself asking.

“Think about it, Michael. We’re presumed dead but we only have seventy three hours to find Lacey’s spirit and get her back to the U.S. How are we supposed to do that without drawing a bunch of suspicion? We’re going to need to clean ourselves up and change our clothes. We’re all going to need to change the color and style of our hair as well as get some supplies for the journey. That will buy us time to find Lacey. Getting back is a bridge we’ll have to burn when we get to it”, she said. Michael nodded, and nearly jumped in terror when his uncle came back in.

“I took care of the truck problem. All our things are still in there and it’s cooling down.” he said.

“How, exactly?” his aunt asked with a concerned edge to her tone.

“I swapped the liscense plates with the ones on some farm equipment up the road, and then I threw a shit ton of mud on the outside of the truck, shredded the seats, broke the radio knob and put a few dents in it. You would never know it’s the same vehicle”, he said. Michael contemplated asking before quickly deciding against it. His uncle seemed like a strange, deranged man and he didn’t want to find out the lengths he was willing to go to to get things to work out in his favor.

“Okay, whatever. I’m burning up”, Michael said, starting to walk to where he remembered the truck being parked. He got in the driver’s seat to be closer to the vent and nearly fainted in relief at the cool air blowing on him, even as he caught a whiff of his own stink from it. He didn’t care where Cannibal was going to go, or if Runt would follow his Wyvern friend through the woods or climb in the truck bed. He just wanted to get out of there. Around five minutes went by before the others got into the truck.

“Michael, you need to head North until you hit Norflawk. It’s a large city where the crowds should be big enough to blend in with. It’s about an hour long drive. When we get there, you need to go to the Walmart. Guinevere and I will go inside- You’re going to have to send the list to someone- and get the supplies we need. You two need to stay in the truck. If we don’t come back in fourty five minutes, just leave. Get to the English channel and use boats, waterways, backroads and maps to find your way to a town called Brighton. Take a gravel road down into the woods until you come to wrought iron gates with ruins behind them. Stand before the gates and state your names and why you’re there. They should open. Walk past the ruins and you should see a large castle down in a valley.

That is Camelot. It still stands although it has seen heavy renovations. It’s a safe place for anyone that worked for Haven. You won’t be asked any questions and you can live out your days there or until someone is able to get you and take you back to Maryland”, his uncle said. His eyes were absent, and if he didn’t know his family well, Michael would have said they were emotionless. His face was sunken, his voice stern and exhausted. He could only nod, the command from Lancelot giving him no room to say anything.

Dinadan’s cold, trembling hand brushed his arm where it was resting on the glove compartment, twining their fingers together as he started to drive. For a long time, he didn’t say anything. The only sounds were the noise of the road, the whispers of his aunt and uncle whispering in the backseat and the “divorced dad rock” (as December called it) coming from his phone where it sat in the cupholder.

Michael flinched a little behind the steering wheel when his boyfriend finally said something.

“Do you think we’re going to die?’ he asked, his voice trembling slightly. Michael looked over at him.

“No. I think we’re going to get royaly screwed over somehow and regret a lot of decisions soon no matter how worth it they were…But we aren’t going to die”, he said. That seemed to sate Dinadan enough for the time being, but Michael could tell he was going to keep thinking about it and be unable to knock it off soon.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Michael set a timer on his phone for forty-five minutes when as soon as he saw his aunt and uncle go into the store. They looked homeless, but in the parking lot, before they actually got out, they had made up a story about being campers whose supplies got damaged by an escaped bull ransacking their campground looking for something to eat. They had hacked their hair short with a bowie knife of Lancelot’s, and it led to them being slightly less recognizable.

He just had to hope they were going to get out of there. He didn’t want to have to disappear forever, give up on Lacey in the process and live in Camelot for the rest of his life.

He knew he’d been ordered to stay still, but hunger was winning over, and he scanned the surrounding area. He was sure that if he stayed where he could see the store and got his aunt and uncle food, they’d be slightly more forgiving. Michael had to watch it when selecting a place. He couldn’t go to a place that wasn’t busy and risk an employee remembering his face, he had to be conscious of his aunt’s allergies and of Dinadan’s inability to eat a lot of things.

His eyes finally landed on the place across the street. He couldn’t pronounce the name of that place, but he knew they served mostly sandwiches, salads, and things like that. It had to be a local restaurant and a popular one at that with how long the drive-thru line was. Michael took note of what row he was parked in and his general distance from the building before he made his way out of the parking lot.

“What are you doing- We aren’t supposed to leave!” Dinadan exclaimed, snapping out of his quiet, anxious stupor. His eyes were wide and Michael could tell his breathing was starting to get fast. He reached over and gripped his boyfriend’s hand.

“It’s okay. I’m getting everyone food, we can see the store, and they’ll be able to see us if they walk out of there right now, Do you want water or do you think you can handle soda?” he asked. Dinadan shook his head.

“Just water.” he said. He was distant, his leg bouncing up and down. Michael knew he was panicking. Michael ordered everyone’s food and hoped it wouldn’t take long for it to be ready.

“Dina, can you tell me why you’re nervous?” he asked, counting out the correct total for the meal. He was thankful his aunt was so bright. She had not only gotten the nearly five thousand dollars they brought for what they were doing converted to the correct currency, but she also had it all taken from the accounts and converted to cash, leaving no digital trail.

And that was before they were all presumed dead.

“Everything”, was what Dinadan finally said after they were headed back to the Walmart. Michael waited to speak until he put the truck in park. Michael took a bite of his wrap before he said anything. Dinadan was picking at his salad, which meant he didn’t feel particularly great, but at least he was eating, so it wasn’t too terrible yet.

“You mean the whole being declared dead thing or is it something else?” Michael asked him, still holding his hand. Dinadan shrugged.

“Michael we died….Our souls left our bodies. We were in the afterlife for what felt like two days but it was actually three months. Everyone who cares about us thinks we’re dead or missing. We still have to find Lacey, and that’s assuming Lancelot and Guinevere don’t get stopped or detained or something. It’s like everything’s going wrong and I’m no help at all…It’s all that I’m good for. Screwing things up”, he said. Michael shifted in his seat to face his boyfriend. His leg was shaking violently and his eyes were starting to well over with tears.

“Hey, look at me…You don’t have to make eye contact, just look in my direction so I know you’re listening. You are not messing things up. I wouldn’t have gotten through this without you, Dina. I need you, okay? And yeah, we’ve been dead for three months. When we find a way back to the states, we’re going to have to change our names and get new identities, but Aimee has a talent for that. We need to find Lacey, but I know my sister. I know there’s going to be signs. She’ll lead us to her. I know this is incredibly overwhelming, but it’s going to be okay, I promise”, Michael told him. Dinadan dropped his gaze, the tremor traveling from his leg to his hands and quickly up through his whole body. Michael gave him a moment to calm down, but it didn’t come and his breath hitched as he looked away from Michael.

“Dinadan, it’s alright,” he said. His boyfriend still refused to look at him. Michael reached out and touched his shoulder softly, but Dinadan quickly turned and wrapped his arms around Michael’s torso, burying his head in his chest.

“We’re going to die”, he whispered between heaving sobs and coughing. Michael shook his head before realizing that Dinadan couldn’t see him in the position he was in at the moment, eyes pointed at the floorboard.

“Nobody is dying, Dina.” He said. His boyfriend shook his head. Michael held him tightly, praying no one would walk by the truck and see them. He didn’t think they’d be questioned by a stranger or have emergency services called on them but he couldn’t be completely sure. He was tempted to reach over Dinadan and push the seat back to make him lay down, but he knew he’d have to crawl over the armrest and gear shifter to keep him calm since his uncle had been very stern about not getting out of the vehicle.

“We’re going to die and it’s going to be covered up and it’s…” he trailed off. Michael was starting to get worried. Dinadan was panting and shaking hard, gripping Michael’s shirt tightly. Michael couldn’t even be sure whether his boyfriend was actually listening to him or not. He looked down at his phone, first checking how long Lancelot and Guinevere had before switching on music and turning it up just past the point of it being audible.

“I’m not going to let that happen”, Michael told him. Dinadan shook his head, as though he couldn’t believe him. He shifted, wrapping an arm around him as much as he could, slipping the other one up into his hair, and gently brushing his fingers through the strands.

“Can you try to breathe slower? I don’t want you to pass out”, he said. He was more nervous about that than anything else. Dinadan hadn’t had any seizures in the past three months, which meant when they inevitably came back, they would either be very intense or far more frequent, something that was going to be scary for everyone involved. He wanted to avoid anything that would cause it for as long as possible. That included stress, bright lights, and any interference with his breathing. Dinadan made a movement that could be considered a nod if he was trembling less.

Michael started guiding him, at first exaggerating his own breaths and encouraging Dinadan to mimic him before he moved on and started to count in a 4-7-8 pattern once his boyfriend seemed to have gotten the hang of it. He smiled, even though he knew Dinadan couldn’t see it.

“There, just keep doing that until you’re not trying anymore”, he said. He didn’t know how much he was helping. Handling his boyfriend’s panic attacks was a clusterfu ck of the little advice December gave him, his two personal experiences, and a lot of google searches. He still didn’t know if he was actually doing things right, but it had a positive impact to some degree so that at the very least meant he wasn’t doing everything wrong.

After around five minutes had passed, Dinadan sat up, sniffling and wiping his eyes but far more composed than he had been. Michael let go of him so he could drift back over into his own space, but Dinadan immediately reached over the center console to grip his hand. He was still trembling slightly, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been just ten minutes prior. Michael ran his thumb over the back of his hand. He wasn’t sure if it was any comfort at all, but it felt wrong to just sit there and do nothing. He didn’t even want to try saying anything yet.

“I’m sorry”, Dinadan said at last. He still wouldn’t look at Michael, but his face was visibly red.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about. You were overwhelmed and you no doubt have an anxiety disorder. You were in flight or fight and reacted accordingly to what your brain told you. Panic is normal and our reactions to panic are normal. There is nothing to be ashamed of, Dina. And besides, it’s done and over with now. You’ve wiped the tears away, you’re shaking less. You’ve recovered, and there’s no reason to keep dwelling on a little hiccup in the day. I know you like to stick to a routine- So do I, but a twenty minute panic attack isn’t the end of the world, I promise”, he said.  Dinadan finally loooked up. His stone eyes were glassy, but no longer overflowing with tears. He smiled faintly before his view shifted where he was now looking dead center at Michael’s forehead rather than looking in his eyes.

“I love you”, he said, leaning in and wrapping his arm around Michael’s shoulder, hugging him rather than clinging to him in desperation as he had been doing previously. Michael glanced down to check a notification. His aunt and uncle had fifteen minutes, and the text was from Guinevere.

Were in line but its long we might go over the 45 min

“I love you…Lancelot and Guinevere are in line right now, but apparently it’s pretty long, so they might not get out in time, but they’ve made it”, he said, feeling Dinadan breathe a sigh of relief under his hands. Dinadan sat back and leaned forward in his seat, holding his head in his hands. Michael felt a pang of fear, looking to make sure that he was still conscious and touching his back. His eyes were open, but there was no way of knowing if he was all there or if he was simply having an absence seizure.

“Dina, are you alright?” he asked, growing more and more concerned as time ticked by, even though he knew it was only a few seconds at most

“Yeah, I’m just tired”, he said. Michael nodded, watching the time on his alarm running down and hoping his aunt and uncle would come and get their things in the back so they could all get on with what the hell they were doing. Michael started to knead at his boyfriend’s shoulders without knowing it, but soon Dinadan sighed and shifted under his hand.

“Are you okay”? He asked. His boyfriend nodded.

“Yeah I…I didn’t know how sore I was until you started doing that”, he said.

‘Oh, do I need to stop?” Michael asked, worried he was hurting him.

“Not really…Can you actually keep doing that?”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Lancelot and Guinevere announced their presence by tossing thier bags into the back of the truck with eight minutes and eleven seconds left to spare. Michael wasn’t startled, as he’d seen their approach in the rearveiw mirror, but it startled Dinadan, who flinched before he heard their voices. They were silent as they got inside before they noticed the bag of food. Michael was expecting at least one of the two of them to be pissed at him, but all he got was the sound of unfolding wrappers, squeaking styrofoam and a muttered ‘thank you’ from someone.

They had to have been borderline starving too, not wanting to spend money on anymore things than they absolutely needed to- which meant no extra snacks.

“Michael, do you two want to switch out?” his aunt asked, finally. Her voice seemed like a warm knife cutting through a slice of butter and putting an end to the awkward silence.

“What?” he asked, mildly confused.

“Do you want Guin and I to sit up there and drive so you and Dinadan can be back here?” his uncle elaborated. He had a telent for that and it made sense. His wife had ADHD- He had to be quite used to doing that by now. Having to elaborate so she would actually get what he was talking about through her head.

Michael glanced down at Dinadan, who was slumped over in the passenger seat but still awake, pliant under his hands while he kneaded his back.

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea”, he said. The transition was smooth for the most part. Once in the back seat, Dinadan laid down sideways, resting his head on Michael’s lap so he could run his hand through his hair. He seemed to like it, closing his eyes and nuzzling against him. Despite where his boyfriend was laying, it didn’t turn Michael on like it would at other times. It made him want to make sure Dinadan was comfortable and safe, keep him from harm.

“What’s the plan?” Michael asked, keeping his voice low and quiet in hopes that Dinadan would be able to get some shut eye that way. He needed the rest. He had dark circles under his eyes and had been yawning since they woke up in the temple, despite being dead for three whole weeks.

“I’m going to take us to a river where we can wash up, get new clothes on, cut and dye our hair and all that. And while we’re there, we’re just going to have to hope for a sign from either Lacey or The Morrigan to tell us where to go. If that doesn’t happen, then we have some locations we’ll need to hit. One thing’s evident.”, his aunt said. Michael raised his eyebrow, though he was unsure if she could actually see him in the rearview mirror.

“And that is?” he asked when she didn’t immediately answer him.

“Lacey has to be somewhere in the general vicinity of Europe. The continents have magic boarders that spirits cannot cross without being attached to a mortal. Our first stop is going to be the temple to see if she’s there, then we’re going to England to see if she’s somewhere near or even in Camelot. Then we’ll go to Tintagel to see if we can get any luch there. If not, we’re going to France to see if we can find her in the Dolerous Guard ruins.”, his aunt said. It sounded like a solid plan. He just wished he’d been let in on it earlier so he could be more well prepared for it- At least physically because there was no way in hell to be mentally ready for what was coming. What they were already doing.

“And if that doesn’t work- If she’s not there?” he asked. He was so close to getting his sister back and he didn’t want to fail just because they had been way too in over their heads the whole time. Though in all fairness- They had been in over their heads since Lancelot got the plane tickets. Since Dinadan agreed to tag along. Since Michael tried to explain resurrection with science alone. Since Guinevere dug up her daughter. Before that, even.

Midnight of September seventeenth, when Lacey died to begin with.

But if it went beyond that- It went all the way back to when he hid in the back of his sister’s car and snuck inot the old Haven facility. Back to when Lacey piggybacked December and decided to accept Aimee’s job offer. To when December got an all access pass and tripped down an escalator.

Or to whenever the hell fate had decided to blow their lives out of proportion.

Michael couldn’t help but to wonder what his life would have been like had Haven never become part of their lives. December would still be in medical school. Lacey would still be working dead end minimum wage jobs trying to get through community college. They would probably be homeless or living in a trailer since the apartment building burned down. Michael would still have started college in January, but he would’ve gone full time- living on campus and probably doing a work study to cover the loans his scholarships hadn’t covered. He’d still be single with no friends that didn’t live hundreds or thousands of miles away. He either wouldn’t know he was a fallen angel or would have admitted himself to a hospital assuming he still would have got his memories back.

He couldn’t decide if Haven had changed his life for better or worse.

“We’ll be going to Italy and what used to be my Kingdom before I was sold into marriage. And if we don’t find her…Then we search every inch of Europe we can while we still have the time. If we never manage to find Lacey then we try our damndest to move on. You two will move to Camelot permanently. Lancelot and I would try to make it back to the states and clear up as much of this as we can. Just try to pick up as many of the pieces that we can glue together. Sometimes, it’s all that you can do”, his aunt said. There was a strange tone to her voice that Michael couldn’t figure out, but she had sorrow in her eyes, and Lancelot reached over to hold her hand and Michael took it as his cue to quit talking.

The river was deep in a national park, but not the one they had summoned The Morrigan in. There was a heavy salty breeze in the air that led Michael to believe they were quite close to one of Ireland’s coasts, but he wouldn’t know which one. He had long since lost track of where they were and frankly, he was scared to check google maps. As they got out of the car, his uncle asked a question that caused Michael to chuckle.

“No one went commando right?” he asked. The general consensus was no, and soon, Michael was stepping into the chilly water. It had a bit of a current, but not strong enough to knock anyone off their feet. It wasn’t as deep as it looked, either. It only went up to Dinadan’s chin. It was silent for the most part. No one was around and they were all far too busy scrubbing dirt and grime from their hair and bodies in the water, toes and fingers going numb in the cold water. Cannibal and Runt were downstream playing in the water. They didn’t have to worry about Cannibal and Runt wouldn’t be a concern until they had to cross a large body of water, seeing as the juvenile Draco couldn’t swim and simply didn’t have the anatomy to swim.

Lancelot left the water, and Michael was briefly distracted when the sunlight fell on his uncle’s body. He had more scar tissue than skin. It looked like a map formed by a poorly done tattoo removal. He returned with a pair of scissors and six hairdye boxes. He bagan to slice hat his fair hair, taking around three inches off to where it sat flat around his head, but once it dried would look like Michael’s own if he got it trimmed. They didn’t have the same hair type, but it tended to fall the same way. Michael quickly got the message when the scissors were handed off to him and started to cut away chunks of hair, giving himself bangs and knocking off roughly an inch.

He let his aunt work bleach into his hair, being instructed to let it sit for the next thirty minutes. Lancelot immediately got to work with light red hairdye, somewhere between auburn and ginger, making sure to apply it to his eyebrows as well. The dye his aunt picked out for him thankfully wasn’t extreme, just a few shades lighter than his natural hair color.

While he waited for the bleach to process, his aunt set about using it to lift the color from her own hair and he helped cut Dinadan’s hair so he’d be able to have something to do. He cut his boyfriend’s thick red hair into layers and took it down to his chin rather than where it flowed awfully long before. Michael had adored his boyfriend’s long hair, but the shorter length highlighted the curve of his shoulder and collarbones, defining his face as well. Guinevere’s phone alarm finally went off, signalling Michael that he could finally dunk himself below the water and rinse the bleach out. His aunt’s hair had lightened to being nearly white- similar to Lancelot or her daughter’s but Michael’s had lifted to more of an orange or piss yellow shade. The dye smelled like shoe polish but made well of turning the color. His aunt didn’t do much, going in with nothing more than a darker pigment that made her hair more akin to blonde. Dinadan, however, got stuck with black dye. It made his eyes bright and striking and made his skin look a few shades lighter.

After everyone had dried off and rinsed the hairdye out, they were quickly back on the riverbed, their backs to each other as they changed clothes. Michael had been left with a harley davidson shirt and a pair of white sweatpants- Something he wouldn’t be caught dead wearing. He had been given black and white vans that were a size too small- Though he figured that was intentional with the idea of foodprints in mind. Lancelot looked like a fourty year old park ranger going through a divorce- combat books, khaki shrts and a blue t shirt reminisceant of Sam Neils atiire from the first Jurassic Park. It was a little pathetic.

Guinevere had done the direct opposite of what she usually wore. Running shoes had replaced her sandals. Blue jeans had replaced her leggings and a t shirt had replaced her blouses. Dinadan looked like the opposite of himself as well, wearing a plain white t shirt, a pair of blue jeans and regular tenis shoes.

“We look like obnoxious tourists”, he said.

“That’s the idea”, his aunt told him. There was an unspoken comment in her statement that he couldn’t figure out.

“Alright. If anyone asks. Guinevere and I are Sarah and Mark. We’re siblings visiting our parents in Gallway who got lost. Michael is a hiker named Jason and Dinadan is his boyfriend named Thomas. They also got lost and they were hitchhiking in one of the national parks when we picked them up. Guin and I are going to try to pass for being in our thirties. You two try to appear like you’re twenty or so. I know it isn’t a good cover story, but it’s the best one I could come up with that didn’t require us to give more background”,

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“That’s strange”, Lancelot said, breaking the silence at last. He had drove from the river to a small gas station near Woodburn forest and then switched places with Guinevere. Michael hated it when his aunt drove, but it was far too insignificant to complain about that with the situation they were in at the moment.

“What?” he asked, confused.

“Some unknown number just messaged me, but I shouldn’t be able to get cell redemption up here in the mountains…Am I connected to someone’s hot spot?” he asked. Michael shook his head. He didn’t have a hotspot on his phone because it drained his battery and used up his data. He had a limit on that and the cell company charged him ridiculous fees for going over it.

“That’s not possible. I don’t turn mine on”, his aunt told him, briefly glancing over at his screen as he opened the message.

“That’s creepy”, she said. Michael squinted, but couldn’t read the screen from where he was seated in the back. He didn’t have vision issues, but he couldn’t always read something if it was at a weird angle.

“What’s creepy?” Michael asked, feeling out of the loop.

“The number is 666-777-0000. Those are Angel numbers as well as the number of the beast… Lance what does the message say?” his aunt asked, She was watching the sides of the road carefully trying to find where they had been just one day prior. She cursed and once again pulled up into a farmer’s long driveway to turn around, assuming they had passed it. Michael would have held that assumption too were it not for the fact that this was now the third time they turned around.

“A fighting spirit roams the ruins of a castle that was a house but never a home.” he said. It sounded like a song lyric. But there was far more to it than that. Fighting spirit defined Lacey all too well as a person- And she was no different in spirit alone. A fighter- A hero- A soldier. And none of the castles in the surrounding areas were in original condition. They were either all crumbled and ruined or they were shells of their former selves- Rennovated and redesigned to appeal to tourists. At first glance, it didn’t narrow down the castles, but she had to have been freed to a place related to family, which only gave them three options.

“Is that our first sign?” Dinadan asked, causing Michael to flinch a little. Dinadan had been laying on his lap the entire ride, and he’d been very still and silent, leading Michael to believe he’d been asleep.

“I don’t know what the hell else it could be”, his aunt muttered. She didn’t turn around at the park entrance this time, instead, she just kept going and got on the freeway and then on the exit for one of Ireland’s costal cities.

“We’ll leave the truck somewhere and see if we can rent a boat or something. If that doesn’t work we can steal one but that’s a last ditch effort thing. Make sure nothing gets left behind. We’ll travel to Wales first and then go to England and look at Camelot first since it’s closest”, his aunt said. Michael found himself confused.

“I thought Cameot was in Wales- You guys literally all speak Welsh”, he said.

“We do. Camelot was in Wales in our time, but the border was pushed back when the Saxons invaded, so now Camelot is on England’s soil rather than that of Wales even though that’s the original country”, his uncle explained. Michael nodded. He didn’t know if historians had got all of that correct and he didn’t want to bother with fact checking it. In his experiences, half the time people had got things wrong, losing important details to the glamor of mythology and changing some things entirely to fit the political or religious climate of the area at the time.

The other half of the time, Lancelot was just bad at geography.

‘Um…Okay”, he said, accepting the fact and moving on. That was easier than pushing or making an effort to actually understand what was going on. Dinadan finally sat up, shifting to the middle seat to be closer. Michael didn’t mind. He enjoyed Dinadan’s closeness to him. With his battery running low and not much else to keep him occupied, Michael leaned down and picked up the thick binder of paperwork he’d oriented out. The edges of some of the sheets were a bit wilted from being in the truck through freeze and heat, but nothing was damaged to the poing of being completely indistinguishable.

He had gone through and put in labeled dividers before he left. The night before they embarked on the journey, actually. Michael flipped past the death reports, having seen more than enough of that shit for the rest of his life. He skimmed over the finiacial pages, but something caught his eye. Two full pages of records he’d never seen before. Something that entirely rewrote the finances. When he did the math, it put Haven at an organization with a networth of 9.75*10^21 US dollars rather than the estimated Five hundred quadrillion the numbers previously came out to.

It was surprising, but at the same time to be expected. The world had no idea how much money actually existed. The global domestic product came out to around 334.792*10^79 U.S dollars. Hundreds of times more than many were led to believe it was.

1944- $2,000,000,000 in war effort

1944- $1,000,000,000 in war effort

1945- $30,000,000,000 in research

1956- $40,000 in lawsuit

1960- $500,000,000 in facility downpay

1977- $10,000,000,000 in lawsuit

1981- $100,100,200,000 in silencing payment

1990-2002- $340,200,350,000,500 for war effort

2004- $500,000,000,000 in silencing payment

2005- $600,000,000 in Time machine bid

2006-$500,600 in lawsuit

2006- $1,000,000 in silencing payment

2010- $400,000 in vehicle payment

2020- $1,000,000,000 in silencing payment

2022- $1,200,350,675 in shelter fees

That rewrote both the amount of money the North American Haven claimed to have and therefore the collective money owned by all of the Haven facilities. It also completely racked up the collective debt and the debt of the home base that had originally looked like it was in the process of being paid off. Michael couldn’t help but wonder just how many more secrets were being kept by Aimee and the rest of Haven. Michael shook his head and slammed the binder shut, letting it fall to the floorboard- Where it belonged for all he cared.

“Are you okay?” his boyfriend asked him. Michael rolled his eyes, neither nodding or shaking his head as he frankly couldn’t figure out if he was okay or not. He didn’t even know what he was supposed to do with the information he was subject to now. He hadn’t even bothered looking at his computer yet and that was assuming it actually still worked which was doubtful at best.

‘Just… a lot of things I didn’t ever want to know are being shoved in my face right now…I’m fine. Aunt Guin, can we spare some of the food you guys got at the store or something? I’m like…starving”, Michael asked. He wasn’t that hungry but eating at least a little bit would help get his mind of off the confusing mess in front of him.

“If I stop at a gas station so you can eat, you’re paying for it unless you want to eat uncooked soup and dry stirfry”, she said. Michael wrinkled his nose.

“I’ll just see if we have left over chips or something when we stop for gas or a piss break”, he said. It wasn’t ever that long between their stops. The truck had good gas milage, but the four of them all drank a ton of water.  Guinevere slammed on the brakes out of nowhere, easing the truck off to the side of the road. At the bottom of the hill was a ‘Road Closed’ sign, and right in front of them sat a sleek black car, parked across both lanes.

“What in the hell?” Dinadan asked, leaning over to see through the windshield. Four men started to get out of the car, all dressed in bulletproof vests and black uniforms. Michael didn’t know what was going on,  but he knew it was bad, and he found his whole body tensing.

“MI6- The FBI must’ve tipped them off. With us being involved with Haven’s and its drama and our whole missing and presumed dead ordeal”, his uncle whispered. One of the men, an older one with silver hair motioned for them to step out of the car. Lancelot held up a finger and stepped out of the truck, telling them to wait. As soon as he was within talking distance, muffled words were spoken before the four MI6 agents rushed the former knight, handcuffs out prepared to arrest him. Dinadan and Guinevere were out of the truck and fishing around in the bed in a fraction of a second. Michael followed, breaths short and nervous. He looked in the back, distracted by the yelling and finally, his eyes landed on the tote bag they had been in.

Inside were tazers, knives and a few other weapons.

Michael reached in and grabbed a long dagger with a black handle wrapped in electric tape for the sake of better grip. He didn’t actually know what he was going to do. One of the men- likely in his twenties with blonde hair was laid out on the ground with Lancelot’s blue pocket knife laying next to him in a pool of blood. He had beeen slashed across the throat from ear to ear and for a fleeting moment, Michael’s mind was plagued with images of Lacey’s death of the ropey scar left behind form the fight.

He snapped out of it long enough to hear Dinadan shout his name and turned in just enough time to see one of the agents coming for him. He was young with olive skin and a bald head. The agent managed to land a hard punch to his stomach, knocking the wind out of Michael and making him wheeze when he inhaled. He turned and slashed blindly with his dagger. The man cried out and briefly stumbled back, a long, thin gash on his forehead beginning to leak blood. Michael forced himself to have a tighter grip on the handle, the blade having swung back and cut him on the side, though thankfully not deeply.

Michael held a defensive stance when the man started to rush him once more, not even noticing that he had the dagger was out until the agent froze mere inches away from his face and made a strangled noise, falling back onto the ground. He coughed, starting to push himself up and a hole visible throught the padding of his vest. Michael had accidentally stabbed him in the middle of the chest.

Micheal looked over, seeing Lancelot restraining one of the other agents, and he at first did not know why until he saw Guinevere stand up from where she’d been knocked down, her hand pressed over a deep gash on the side of her leg and picking her dagger up. In a blur of movement, she rushed at the man, stepping away to reveal the body limp, her dagger clear through his skull, sticking out the back of his head.

Without thinking, Michael slammed the handle of his dagger down on the agent’s head as he rose to his feet. The man collapsed back down to the ground, blood streaming from his ears, eyes open but lifeless. Michael felt bile creeping up in his throat and forced himself to swallow it.

Dinadan had a strange fighting style. He used his knife to slash at limbs while he attacked the grey haired man’s torso with a tazer. A scrrech filled the air, and Michael fell back to make room for Cannibal’s wingspan, standing behind his master. Dinadan was faintly aware of the situation, as he started to back the man up, and once he was about five feet away from the massive Wyvern, Cannibal ducked down, clamping his razor sharp teeth down on the man’s neck with a sickening crunch.

MIchael turned away, gagging. He could hear Runt chittering nervously, and from the corner of his eye, he could see the juvenile Draco bent over the body of the blonde man Lancelot had killed, but wheather he was eating the corpse or just investigating it was indiscernable.

“Get in the truck- Now!” Lancelot was shouting, and Michael listened as if his body was on autopilot.

“Lance- The weapons-”

“Guin, they don’t matter. Our fingerprints aren’t on record. We need to get out of here. I know everyone’s injured but we need to get somewhere safe first and try to make something that resembles a cohesive plan”. He said.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

There was a shock over the group when they arrived at a lake a few miles out. His aunt checked over the shallow gashes on his arms, simply wiping away dried blood and putting antibiotic cream on it since he wasn’t bleeding. The cut on his side was burning and leaking a steady, oozing stream of thick blood. It wasn’t coming as bad as it had been, but the fact remained nonetheless. The blood had seeped down, staining his pants and sticking to his leg. It had completely soaked the right side of his shirt, sticking to him uncomfortably as the blood dried around the injury, making it nearly impossible for him to lift his arm, let alone take the shirt off. He went ahead and cut the side of that fabric out so his boyfriend could clean the gash and tape down a few gause pads.

After that, Michael checked his boyfriend for injuries. He had gotten away with bruises and scratches that weren’t deep enough to leak more than a few drops of blood. His worst injury was to his arm,  not a deep cut but a long one- starting at his collarbone and going nearly to his elbow. Michael tried his best to be gentle as he cleaned the wound and wrapped it tightly around his arm, but Dinadan still hissed like it hurt. Michael let his eyes trail, seeing no fresh scars that were far too precise to be accidental, but he thankfully didn’t see any.

He turned his attention to his aunt and uncle, hoping they were okay. His uncle was sporting a red mark that was surely going to become a black eye, seeing as it was already swollen. He had a few cuts and bruises, but he looked okay. His aunt didn’t seem hurt, but the cut on her knee had bled a lot. She had a lot of gause packed on and possibly in the wound and it was held down tightly with the medical tape. She had probably needed stitches.

“It’s about a forty-five-minute boat trip and then a ninety-mile drive to get to Camelot. We could make it before it gets to be too late at night if we’re careful”. Michael’s uncle spoke up. Michael didn’t know exactly what he was on about until they were down by the coast, thankfully absent of people, and looking at a yacht, a Wyvern and a Draco sitting behind them in the sand- looking beyond out of place.

“We’re stealing a boat?” Michael asked, just wanting to clarify. There wasn’t much they could be doing that would surprise him anymore.

“Yeah…How can we be sure it’s empty?” Dinadan asked. The two older adults shared a glance and then shrugged. They walked to the boat, disappearing inside. That was when reality set in on Michael. They weren’t just missing and presumed dead, wandering around looking for answers. They were clearly wanted for one reason or another Fugitives- And now with the exception of Dinadan- who always hurt but never killed- They were murderers too.  Michael jumped when he felt a hand in his hair, looking up at his boyfriend.

Dinadan had a curious expression but a concerned glint in his eyes, searching Michael’s face, his head tilted to the side.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked, his voice soft, nearly a whisper as though he was anticipating the presence of people they simply couldn’t see. Waiting for the right moment to strike. Michael took a deep breath before he tried to answer.

“I killed someone today…And I know it was someone who wanted to hurt us- but I took his life away just like that. Stabbed him in the chest and then knocked him in the head so hard that blood came out of his ears. I didn’t even know his name. I killed someone’s son- Someone’s best friend, maybe even someone’s husband- I can’t remember if he was wearing a ring or not. I never thought I would have to do something like that, even in self-defense. For crying out loud- I’m Haven’s secretary. I thought the most violent I’d ever get would be telling off some bank CEO. But now there’s both literal and physical blood on my hands…” he trailed off, not sure how to finish what he was attempting to articulate. Dinadan at first tightened the hand in his hair before he let him go, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and pressing the side of his head against Michael’s back- a steady, comforting weight.

“I’ve never killed someone- At least, I don’t think I have. With how many of my siblings were murdered in cold blood and how many friends died in battle, I just can’t do that to someone else’s partner- friend- family. So I don’t kill people. I just hurt them really bad. I never aim for vital organs and such. But I’m surrounded by killers. Some of them do it for extremely questionable reasons and others do it for the greater good. And as insane as it may sound…It gets easier, Michael. I don’t think they accept what they do and have done. I think they just learn to live with it and recognize the motives, maybe even block it out. You’d have to talk to your aunt and uncle about it”, he said. Michael shook his head, a slight laugh making its way out of his mouth.

“I still struggle to believe that my aunt took out just as many soldiers as her husband”, Michael said. It was then Dinadan’s turn to laugh.

“Oh, I’ve seen her slice people’s heads off”, he said.

“That doesn’t…Oh, whatever”, he said just as Lancelot and Guinevere came off the boat. Michael rose all the way up to his feet.

“It’s empty…and steering that thing is child’s play. I could probably teach the two of you how to monitor everything and steer tomorrow. The most complicated thing in there is the controls for the heat and air conditioning.” his uncle said.

The yacht was almost full in the water, so Michael had to roll his pant legs up to get to the stairs and climb up onto the dock. Runt had some issues but was able to scramble up there with minimal struggle. Cannibal flew up onto the dock, curling around the smaller Dragon against the cool night air that blew off the endlessly dark water. They had developed a close bond that Runt didn’t seem to understand or mind. Michael didn’t know enough about Dragons to know if Cannibal saw the Draco as a hatchling to be cared for or a brother.

“I’m going to steer the ship and wake Guin up when I’m too tired…We’re headed straight for France and-

“Hold on, hold on…Why are we suddenly going to France?” Michael interjected. His uncle reached into his pocket and produced a notecard with something written on it in sloppy handwriting. It was French, but cursive so it took him a moment to decipher what it said.

L’enfant abime se cache dans la pierre qui s’effrite.

It took him a while to translate before his uncle jumped back in.

“The damaged child lurks in the crumbling stone. The damaged child is Lacey. At first glance, the crumbling stone could be anywhere, but it’s written in French even though we’re in Ireland….so she’s in Dolerous Guarde. So anyway, we’re going to get everything out of the truck and on this boat. We’re going to steer through the night and get around the channel. There’s a master bedroom down hose stairs and a game room across from it with one of those couches that fold out into a mattress. Take your pick of the two and try to get some sleep. We’ve got a long thirty-six hours ahead of us”, his uncle said.

Michael shared a look with his boyfriend and started to walk down the stairs. He opened the door to the bedroom and walked inside, but they weren’t going to stay.

“I want Lancelot and Guinevere to have the actual bedroom…They’ve been doing a lot lately and they’re hurt worse. They deserve the more comfortable space, I’m just seeing if there’s clean clothes to wear” Michael told him. He opened the dresser drawers. The room was kind of weird. It was all grey, even the furniture and the door of what was either a bathroom or closet. He found folded dress shirts, but dug a little deeper and found some plain cotton T-shirts. A men’s large, so big on him and even larger for Dinadan, but that was their only option unless they wanted to walk around in the low-cut blouses and mom jeans from the other side of the dresser. Michael dug deeper, finally finding basketball shorts that could be tied at the waist amidst the dress pants.

Dinadan had gotten the message, having left the room, but he’d taken the sheet off the bed for them to share. The mattress on the couch was already out when Michael came into the other room.

“Do you want to try getting washed up tonight or should that be left as a problem for future us?” Michael asked, plugging his phone in. Dinadan was shaking his head when he turned around, which Michael was a little grateful for since he didn’t even know where to find a bathroom and didn’t feel like looking for one.

“Tomorrow’s problem”, Dinadan said, wincing as he stretched.

“Good. I wouldn’t sleep in these dirty, bloody clothes, though.” Michael said, already beginning to stip out of the old clothes and chucked them in the general direction of a trashcan, also deeming that an issue for later. Michael sat down, knowing the uncomfortable white sheet and the heavy gray comforter was bound to end up stained with blood.

It didn’t start heated when Michael leaned down and kissed his boyfriend, but his dick seemed particularily interested in the fact that he was kissing his naked boyfriend. Dinadan leaned over, bracing himself by resting his hand on Michael’s thigh. Michael pulled away and looked at him, scanning his face for any sign of fear. Dinadan gave a faint smile, laying down on the mattress. He got the message, getting up and switching the overhead light off so the only illumination was from the lights on the overhead of the window, just enough that they could see around the room. Michael opened a drawer on a table, finding a bottle of lotion.

Good enough.

Michael got back in bed with Dinadan, coating a generous amount of the lotion on his fingers. Dinadan sighed on the first. That didn’t seem to be much, and from his own personal experimentation, Michael knew it didn’t hurt. One digit was just there. Dinadan hummed, arching up off the mattress when Michael added the second finger. He couldn’t quite name why, but he liked seeing his boyfriend like that. He crooked his fingers up, teasing his prostate, but stopped as soon as he started to climax.

“Why’d you stop?” Dinadan demanded, sounding almost offended. Michael couldn’t stop the smirk that came to his face.

“I’m just teasing you. It’s called edging”, he said. He worked a third into him, causing a gasp, a wrinkling of his brows at the intrusion. Michael was careful to go slow, stilling his hand to let him adjust.

“What the hell’s edging?” he asked, slightly out of breath.

“It’s when you stimulate someone in one way or another, but you stop right as they’re on the brink of an orgasm. And you do it a few times, too. Usually, at least, but I won’t do it again if it makes you uncomfortable”< he said. Instead of bending his fingers, Michael gently thrust them in and out, changing direction occasionally until he felt that Dinadan’s body was starting to give in to him.

“No, I…I liked it.I’d just like a warning next time so I’m not so loud….You do realize your aunt and uncle are fifteen feet away, right?” he asked. Michael couldn’t help but chuckle at him, reaching over and getting more lotion on his hand, stroking himself off until he trusted that his member was slick enough not to hurt.

“As if they aren’t doing the exact same thing! We’ve been running around, living on the edge for days now and finally get a break. What do think the first thing a couple who isn’t already asleep is going to do?..Are you ready?” he asked. Dinadan nodded, shifting and placing his leg on Michael’s shoulder to give himself more leverage or to be in a more comfortable position.

He lifted his other leg onto his shoulder, knowing that he’d be uncomfortable with just the one when Michael leaned down. He took himself in his hand, lining up and looking in Dinadan’s eyes, searching for fear as he leaned forward.

“Holy shit”, Dinadan breathed as Michael slid slowly into him. He went slow, partly to make sure he wasn’t causing him any kind of pain or discomfort, but also because he was so damn tight. He bottomed out differently, having been able to slip more into him than he had in the water, though that was different. For starters, it was in the afterlife, and he’d also been partially floating in the sea thrusting up into his body rather than down.

“Are you okay?” he asked, slowly sliding out and pushing in once more. He wouldn’t chage pace until he knew it was alright.

“”Yeah…You can speed up a little”, he said.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Michael woke up with something warm pressing against his torso At first, he wasn’t sure why- The past events were quite hazy. The fight in the middle of the highway was real given the aching gash on his side and the faint metallic scent of blood surrounding him. The boat thing was real too, as he could feel a rocking motion he had only felt one other time, on a ferry crossing a river. Michael started to take in his surroundings. A thin white mattress, a wooden ceiling, and grey walls. A big window with white curtains, and an endless ocean stretching out as far as the eye could see. The sky was grey, not with the stirrings of a raging storm but rather with a thick fog.

He shifted, sitting up slowly and stretching. He winced. Almost all his muscles were sore, and his right side was protesting hard. He looked down, finding that it had leaked through the makeshift bandage applied to it. Thankfully not much, however and the blood looked dry, so hopefully he wouldn’t need stitches. Michael looked over at his boyfriend, the warm body he’d woken curled around. He was still dead asleep and looked okay. Michael carefully pulled the blanket back to check on his arm. The gause was dirty, but he hadn’t bled through.

Carefully, to avoid waking his boyfriend. Michael got up, with various joints popping, and set out on his mission to find a first aid kit and a shower. Michael threw the clothes from the previous day into the trashcan and started to dig through mostly empty cabinets. His venture down the hall proved worth it. He found that his aunt and uncle weren’t in the room, and it had a bathroom. When he looked under the sink, Michael found a first aid kit and set it out on the counter for later use.

Slipping into a pair of pants, he stumbled up the stairs to find his family members. The dock was cold, the fog thick and heavy to breathe in, and the sound and smell of the sea all around. At the far end, he could see Cannibal curled up on the deck, using his wings as a makeshift blanket. Runt was up and about, sniffing around the boat. He came up to Michael, nudging him with his snout. He had grown exponentially, now at chest height. Michael gave him a quick scratch under the chin and stepped into the captain’s area, knowing someone had to be steering.

His aunt was at the wheel in a chair, wearing the same baggy shorts and gigantic t-shirts as everyone else. What they were stuck with. She looked less of a mess, which hopefully meant the water worked.

“Hey aunt Guin…” he said. She was startled upon first hearing another person’s voice. The hinges on the door had squealed but with all the buzzing equipment and the roar of the waves, she probably hadn’t been able to hear it.

“What is it, Michael?” she asked.

“Have you and uncle Lance showered yet? Dinadan and I are kind of covered in dried blood from my side and a few cuts that opened back up from us moving in our sleep- Does it even work?” he asked. His aunt nodded.

“I didn’t because I don’t want to try exposing my knee to something like that. A shower would just hurt, and frankly I’m too scared to try submerging it, either. I just washed up with a rag, but he says it works and apparently we have hot water.” she said.

“Alright, thanks”, he said.

“Oh- and Michael…I don’t care what you two do in your spare time, but take how thin the walls are into consideration next time”,

Michael’s face was still hot when he entered the lower level of the boat to wake his boyfriend up. He pulled the comforter away, but Dinadan didn’t do anything beyond curling in on himself to combat against the chill. That was something that had been happening as of late. Dinadan wasn’t nearly as restless as usual. The running theory was the fact that he just felt safer with Haven than he ever had in his original time- But Michael was the only one who was aware that he hadn’t stopped thrashing about and crying out until they started sleeping in the same bed.

He leaned down to shake him, whispering his name until his boyfriend scrunched his eyes shut and stretched, wincing when his injuries protested.

“Why are you blushing?” he asked, his voice gravely and creaking a bit- shakey from lack of being used.

“Uh…So my aunt and uncle heard us last night”, he said, hiding his face in his hands at the sound of Dinadan cackling.

“I told you to watch it”

“You’re the one who was loud!”

“You’re the one who made me loud!” he exclaimed, still laughing. Michael reached over and passed a hand through his hair- A messy black mass that looked similar to a bird nest.

“Anyway, the shower across the hall works, and it’s got hot water…I also found a first aid kit under the sink in there, so we can actually take care of these injuries”, he said.  Dinadan made a faint humming sound that must have been his way of agreeing with Michael.

The cut on Dinadan’s arm wasn’t as bad as it had originally looked. It was a relatively clean slash, and it had already started to scab over. A few spots where whatever weapon it was from went deeper were still slightly open, but he had stopped bleeding. The massive bruise forming around the wound was what was more concerning.

MIchael hissed in pain as his boyfriend helped peel the bandage from his side. He had bled through the gause, which led to the blood drying and causing the material to stick uncomfortably to his skin.

The injury itself didn’t look too terrible. It was a relatively short, thick line, scabbed over black. It sat just under his ribs, but it didn’t feel like it had damaged an internal organ, and if it had- he’d surely be dead by now. Dinadan started the water, turning it up. He wasn’t used to having hot water, so he kept it at a relatively cool temperature. Colder than what Michael preferred, but not enough that he would complain about it.

The water stung the various cuts on his body, but the one on his side was the worst. He had to brace himself against the wall as Dinadan wiped away the dried blood with a rag. He did the same for the gash on Dinadan’s upper arm, trying to be as gentle as possible. He used Dinadan as a bit of an armrest as he worked on getting himself cleaned up. Some of the dye ran out of his hair, but it wasn’t much, and he’d bleached his hair, so hopefully his cover was still secure. Dinadan had to lean on him. He hadn’t sustained any injuries to his legs, and he swore up and down that he wasn’t sore, but with how unsteady he seemed, Michael couldn’t be so sure.

Dinadan sat on the toilet while Michael handled his arm. He applied some disenfecatant spray on the cut, causing Dinadan to wince, and then wrapped it in gause, securing it with the medical tape. There wasn’t a lot of it left, meaning his aunt and uncle had already gotten into it or the yacht’s owners had used the supplies.

“Thank you”, his knight whistpered. He remained seated to take care of Michael’s side, letting him rest his raised arm on his head to make it easier on him. Instead of using the spray, Dinadan spread antibiotic onto a gause pad so it wouldn’t sting him. Michael held the bed down while his boyfriend wrapped an ace bandage around his torso to secure it and stuck it down with medical tape.

They followed the scent of bacon and syrup upstairs to find that the fog had cleared and food had been laid out on a bolted down table. Lancelot was gone, but his aunt was at the table setting out plates. Off on the horizon, seeming so close even though Michael knew it was plenty of miles off, was the coast of something. He looked at his aunt for an answer.

“Coast of France…Dolerous Gaurd was a beach castle, too. We can get there in two hours assuming we don’t make any stops. We find Lacey, get back down here. We’re going to have to sail back to the U.S. Flying is just too risky. When we get there, we’ll go to the airport. Don’t worry if your car isn’t there anymore…I may or may not know how to hotwire vehicles. After that…We’re going to have to sneak back to the estate somehow, dig up Lacey’s body and hope The Morrigan stuck to her word. Once she’s back in her body, we’ll figure things out, I guess. Well, anyway. We made breakfast. It’s noon, but whatever”, she said.

Michael smiled and nodded, but he wasn’t listening all the way. He leaned down and rubbed at his temples, trying to stave off what felt like it was going to be a rough headache. In less than a year, he’d found himself working for a secret organization. His sister died, and her body hadn’t decayed. They had traveled to Ireland, summoned a death goddess, visited the afterlife to collect her spirit, killed a bunch of MI6 agents, stolen a yacht and were now about to look for a ghost in the ruins of an ancient castle in France.  Yet when Michael pinched himself, he didn’t wake from a bizzare dream.

Nor was he on the set of a movie.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Lancelot steered the boat around the coast of France until he reached a strange spot at the edge of a cliff that looked like it had once been a cave before the huge masses of limestone and sulfur- judging by the smell- had crumbled and closed it off. If he looked hard enough, Michael thought he could see the outline, cracks in the rocks that didn’t look very natural where a cave in most definitely could have happened.

“It wasn’t always out on a cliff. The records I found said it was more than a hard stone’s throw from the water, but the seas are rough here and the people who build the castle had no way of knowing that limestone cliffs were a poor foundation. By the time I liberated this place and claimed it as mine, the rough sea here had knocked down large pieces of the cliff face into the water. Sometimes, if a storm was bad enough, the waves would beat against the back of the castle. We had to reinforce the windows on that side because of it.

I don’t know when the castle started falling. I don’t know if it happened naturally overtime, or if the elements got to it, if it was the war or maybe even an earthquake. These days, it’s almost right up against the edge of the cliff, and it isn’t even listed as one of the ruins since it’s so old and dilapidated. Some parts of it stand, but others were completely destroyed. We’re going to have to hike up the side of the cliff which is…It’s probably safe. You won’t die if you fall unless you don’t know how to swim.” his uncle said. He sounded a bit like a tour guide. Michael waited, leaving his phone on the boat. His aunt and uncle went down the steps and straight into the water, not seeming to care that they were going to be soaking wet and cold now. They swam to the side of the cliff, grabbing onto the rough stone of what looked like it had once been stairs carved into the formation. Long since eroded- But still there.

MIchael followed Dinadan into the water, which was chilly and cold and possibly one of the most uncomfortable things he’d experienced. Michael had always been decent at swimming. When he was little, Lacey had taken him to waterparks here and there when she had the money, and made sure to teach him to swim. He ended up loving it, and during the summer, he would usually go down to the river with friends and swim. Sometimes he’d get lucky and rub elbows with someone who had a pool. In high school, he’d been on the swim team before it got too expensive.

Dinadan however, seemed to only have been taught to swim to the extent that people could rest easy with the knowledge that he wouldn’t drown. He had absolutely no grace in his movements and he struggled to keep his head above the water, moving slowly even though he paddled fast. Michael almost went back in to help him before Dinadan grabbed onto a big, partially submerged rock and used it to pull himsel up . The uneven, rocky steps were well eroded, and they were more of a straight climb up rather than a slant. Though the top of the cliff was no more than fifteen or sixteen feet above the water, the climb took nearly five minutes.

It was a rough matter of grabbing onto anything and everything to help with the climb and take stress of their legs, as well as carefully inspecting each step they came upon before daring to place a foot on it.

Dolerous Guard looked like a toddler built a structure with legos and then spray painted it gray. It was extremely uneven, with some parts of the interior completely exposed, and scraggly gray walls covered in ivy and looking like they were going to crumble at any moment. It was clear that at one point, it had been a large, impressive castle, but now it was merely a shadowed shell of what it had once been.

“Were you really the king of France?” he asked his uncle.

“Yes and no… Technically, who ever ruled dolerous guard was the king of Gual, and in theory that was me, but I hardly ever came here. My half brother did most of the job, but I never formally abdicated because I didn’t want to force that responsibility on him. And in a way, I was committing treason on my own country by doing that…I was the prince of Benowick originally, but I went and ruled another kingdom. Though to be fair, I was a toddler when Benowick passed the point of no return.” he said. Michael looked at his aunt to see if he was telling the whole story or not.

“He’s too humble sometimes…He was a king who liked pretending he wasn’t royalty”, his aunt said.

“I mean, I really wasn’t. My parents died when I was an infant. I was raised by a water Fae in their realm until I was sixteen. That’s not royalty, that’s called a literal changeling child with additional mental health issues…Also don’t ask. Speculation ranges from Anti Social Personality Disorder to OCD. I know I’ve got something and that ssems to be the assumption of everyone else as well, but I’m leaving it to December”, he said. Michael nodded.

“So you’re technically married to two kings?” he asked his aunt, who smiled with an expression he couldn ‘t quite read.

“I was sold into marriage to a nineteen year old who never wanted to be in charge of a country but chose to be an honest mind and took his destiny in stride even though he didn’t want it. I willingly married a reluctant king who didn’t really want to be in charge of anything but let himself be the voice of reason despite it”, she said. It brought another question to Michael’s mind.

“What are you going to do if the once and future king story is literal and Arthur does come back?” he asked. His aunt shrugged.

“I’ve long since made the choice to remain indifferent. If he doesn’t then I keep on keeping on as I have been. And if he does have to come back then I fight at his side as I did the first time around”, she said.

“What about my uncle?” he asked. From what he’d heard, his uncle hadn’t been on good terms with the king when Camlann happened.

“I don’t dictate what Lancelot does. If he wants to help Arthur, I’m not stopping him, and if he wants to lay low and ignore it assuming that prophecy isn’t figurative, then so be it. Lancelot is more than independent. He can make his own decisions. Are they the best decisions…Absolutely not, but still. He’s not a child”, his aunt said.

The stones made concerning noises as they crunched under their feet. The temperature within the crumbling stone walls seemed to drop exponentially. It smelled damp and earthy, the air thick with humidity trapped by the elements.

“We can split up. I’ll check the dungeons. Guin, check the second story. Dinadan, Michael check the ground floor”, Michael’s uncle said. It was best not to question him. Michael took a left, down a short hallway and to a large hall, a gaping hole in the wall where doors once stood. It was vacant and empty, old discarded beer bottles strewn about the floor.

In a large open room that seemed to have once been a kitchen, the counter tops were long since fallen, and the space was empty. Michael felt watched, though not by the ghost of his sister. There were more presences than just one. Legions of them. Michael didn’t know what happened to the castle after Lancelot disappeared, but it definitely wasn’t good. Tens of hundreds of people had died there, most of them probably guests and servants.

When Michael walked up to an old, ornate door to open it, the metal handle came away with a huge piece of wood attached to it. With a shrug, Michael slipped through the thin gap, turning to make sure Dinadan was making it through alright. Once his boyfriend was through, Michael turned around to take in his surroundings.

The room was huge, and it had all four walls but was absent of a ceiling. The remains of old church-like pews were crushed under large masses of stone. What was once a red carpet led up to a set of five steps to what were once ornate thrones. What must have been gold or silver wrought metal was now rusted and black. A red and white throne sat on either side of each other, the fabric old, torn and stained. Nonetheless, it was clear it had once been a place of glamour and beauty.

And between the thrones was the ghost of a girl. She stood between them and all that came to mind for him was a champion positioned to protect the rulers of a country or kingdom. She was semi translucent, but Michael couldn’t tell at first, very clearly a ghost. She was pale, with thick ropey scars on her body. She wore a thin, dark gray robe and her long blonde hair looked like it was almost white in the natural sunlight.

“Have you been lurking there the whole time so finding you would be dramatic?” Dinadan asked her. Lacey chuckled.

“No, I’ve been with the other spirits in the castle…There was a really big fire. Only two people got out. It happened when the Saxons invaded after Arthur’s death. They don’t hold any malice, but they don’t have anywhere else to go because they can’t bring themselves to move on…But yes, when I saw you four coming up the cliff I came here to make a dramatic entrance”, she said. Her voice was slightly disembodied, echoing off the stone even though she was talking at a normal volume.

Part of being a ghost, he presumed.

“Ready to pull a Jesus?” he asked, trying to lighten the mood of the situation.

“Just take me to my parents”.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Michael woke up feeling a strange presence he couldn’t quite place. The boat was rocking gently on the waves of the Atlantic, not being steered at the moment. Lancelot and Guinevere didn’t have to guide it that much, relying on the wind when they could. He still didn’t know what stroke of dumb luck led to the yacht and the animals on it not being noticed. Now the biggest worry was getting to the states and to Isaiah’s land without drawing the attention of everyone. He wasn’t able to figure out where the sense was coming from until he sat up and saw the wispy shape of his sister’s spirit lurking by the coffee table of the game room he shared with Dinadan.

“Don’t you have an entire yacht to explore- Parents to haunt?” he asked. In truth, he was glad to have Lacey there once again, but still.

“They switch between absolutely boring and too much. They either start talking to each other in Welsh and get all affectionate and gross with each other, or they start crying and saying they’re sorry. I fully understand why but I can only stand so much of it”, she said. Her voice was slightly disembodied, and it echoed in the space despite the wooden walls. She was slightly different in appearance as well. Despite her general appearance of being partially see-through, she was still his sister. Still tall and lanky. Still ghostly pale with long, near-white hair and unreasonably bright blue eyes. Even the scars were becoming nothing more than another part of her- like the ‘screw off’ attitude and twitching smile.

And yet, she stood taller and her eyes seemed to flash red in moments of anger. She was powerful- Not that she hadn’t been before, but now she had an air of danger. Like she was encased in armor that no one could get into without risking certain death even though she wore nothing more than a woolen robe. Michael almost wanted to ask if she was already a goddess, but he didn’t know how to bring it up like many other things. At least not in an appropriate matter- Just like trying to tell her how screwed up Haven was.

Telling anyone what Haven was like under the surface, because of course there always had to be more.

“So you’re just going to bother me?” he asked.

“Look, I know I’m the one who died, but I missed you too. I know I could wander around the ship and sit with the Dragons but I don’t want to. I want to be with my family…Especially if we don’t make it back to my body in time”, she said. Michael felt his face flush instantly with guilt. He hadn’t stopped to think about that.

“I’m sorry”, he said.

“It’s okay. So…I know you guys have been reported missing,  but have you said anything about this to December. I don’t want to spring myself on them suddenly”, Lacey asked. Michael was ashamed to admit that he hadn’t spoken to his step-parent since arriving in Ireland. He hadn’t thought much about his step-parent or anyone else back home for that matter. Too caught up between the afterlife and running away and what to do and how to do it.

“No. Nobody knows about any of this. We didn’t even tell them why we left. Lacey…What month do you think it is? I need to know before I spring this on you”, Michael said. He didn’t know if Lacey already knew or not- Let alone how she was going to take the information.

“Well, I was killed in mid-September, so it should be December or January, right?” she asked. Michael shook his head, having to take a deep breath before he said anything.

“It’s June ninth of 2023”, he said. Lacey’s eyes widened.

“What the hell?!” she shouted. The body under the sheet next to Michael stirred and then rolled over with a grunt. There was no way for Dinadan to be tired. He fell asleep before Michael- who usually got a good ten hours in and woke up after him more often than not. His knight sat up slowly, blinking his eyes in a drowsy manner and stretching his arms above his head.

“What’s going on?” he asked, his voice gravelly and deeper than it normally would be.

“I told Lacey how we were dead for three months. But it proves my theory that time works differently in the afterlife. She didn’t know how long she was…not alive.”

“Michael, I’m still not alive”, she pointed out, gesturing to her transparent body. She’d been immensely freaked out the previous day when she discovered that she could walk through objects- Even though she didn’t have a sense of touch as a spirit. Her feet didn’t actually touch the ground where she stood. She always hovered less than an inch above the ground.

“But anyway…The last time December contacted me and I actually answered was before my birthday, which…Holy shit, I’m twenty but regardless, I haven’t said anything to them since. And I have a Samsung, so no one back home can tell that I’m reading their messages. Your parents, Dinadan, and I have all been classified as missing people since April, and we’re presumed to be dead. This yacht is stolen, we’re probably going to steal a car when we get back to the states if mine doesn’t work assuming it’s actually there.  I could very easily talk to them and let them know what’s going on but I don’t want to drop a bombshell on them like that. It’s best that they hear about these things in person.” he said.

Lacey nodded. The look on her face told him that she wasn’t happy with the circumstances and her fiance being kept in the dark, but at least she was dropping the subject for the time being. He considered himself lucky for that since his sister was the champion of beating a dead horse.

“This all feels like a dream”, his boyfriend muttered. He looked like he wanted to stand up, sitting on the edge of the couch with the sheet bunched around his waist. With Lacey in the room, he wasn’t going to. He slept naked given the activities they had been engaging in. Michael always haphazardly pulled a pair of pants on, hating the feel of the mattress against his bare legs.

“I know…It’s just so. It feels like there’s a target on our backs. The FBI was one thing, but there were also those MI6 agents in Ireland”, he said. He tried hard to avoid thinking about that. He had killed a man, and it was better to block it out, at least for now.

“You were pursued by MI6?” Lacey asked, and Michael nodded, wanting to drop it already. But Dinadan had always been bad at reading a room.

“Four men stopped us on a pretty empty highway and tried to hurt us. Lancelot killed one, and so did Guinevere. Cannibal took the head off the one trying to attack me because…Well, you know how I won’t actually kill people. I draw the line at killing deer for food and wild animals that pose a threat. I’ll hurt people but I can’t bring myself to…Too many of my family members were slaughtered by knights and I can’t inflict the pain I feel onto others.  Anyway, Michael handled the last one”.

“Oh shit, by handled does he mean..?” his sister trailed off, her eyes wide and concerned. Michael felt a tight knot forming in his chest.

“I accidentally stabbed him in the chest…and when he came at me again, I hit him in the head with the handle of a dagger. I didn’t mean to, but I hit him so hard that blood was coming out of his ears when he went down…so I killed a man, and I know it’s not something I can run from, but it happened and I’d prefer not to dwell on it for my own sake”, he said in a rush. His sister looked guilty of all things, and Michael was about to start an ‘it’s not your fault’ speech when she started talking.

“I killed three people, Michael. I understand. I shot a foster parent I had before I was adopted because she was trying to stab me. When I was sixteen, I strangled a man who tried to take advantage of me, and when I was your age, I shot someone who was breaking into our trailer…Thank hell you were at your babysitter’s that night. Remember when you came back from school and I ripped the carpet out of the living room?” she asked, and Michael nodded. He had a faint memory of living in a house with a plywood floor that had tufts of ugly brown carpet stuck to it in spots.

“I had to throw out the carpet because I couldn’t get the blood out of the carpet and I didn’t want to scare you…And I cope by not thinking about it”, she said. Michael knew his sister had taken lives. He had come across a court document about the foster mother, and he had seen her bury the body of the man she killed in a trash bag behind the trailer park they were living in.

“Okay, I’m done talking about it. Dina, do you want to go see if my aunt or uncle made food…Dinadan?” he asked. His boyfriend was silent and looked stiff even though he was slightly swaying. He had his back to him, so Michael wasn’t able to see his face. He fell sideways and off the couch before Michael was able to react. A sudden ache blossomed on his right arm and hip, as though he was the one who fell off the couch. Michael’s mind felt hazy- As though he had just woken up- Not quite confused but also not all there. It was a feeling he had only ever experienced when he was tired or sick and it was just as sudden as the ache on his right side.

Michael made his way over to where his boyfriend was laying. It didn’t seem like he was hurt- Hadn’t hit his head too hard, so at least there was that. His eyes were shut, meaning the absence part was over. The absence lasted no more than ten or fifteen seconds, and Michael added that on as soon as he started counting in his head.

The first thing he did was toss the blanket onto the floor and over Dinadan to avoid the situation being more embarrassing than it already would be. He was breathing, but there was white foam at the corners of his mouth, and his head and limbs were twitching a little. He usually moved a little when the seizures were more intense instead of just looking like he fainted. Michael sat on the floor at his head and pushed him over onto his side.

It was just a precaution so he wouldn’t choke if he threw up, which had never happened, but the foaming at the mouth was making him nervous.

“Michael!” Lacey shouted, causing him to jump. He got his hand under his boyfriend’s head, which usually meant he got spit on but it took away the risk of him managing to injure his neck.

“What?” he asked, still trying to focus on keeping track of how long it had been since Dinadan started staring off into space.

“Are you going deaf from all the damn concerts you go to? I’ve called your name five times. Do you need my help?” she asked. There was a tense air in the situation. A question of what the hell they were supposed to do if it went on longer than five minutes. They were in the middle of the ocean for starters, and going to the hospital was far too risky. That was how they got the government’s attention, to begin with.

“Can you go get one of your parents? Not both of them, it’ll be too overwhelming. I need them to bring a bottle of water down here, and I might need help lifting him up on the couch”, he said. His sister walked through the wall, and Michael went back to counting. There was still an ache in his right arm and leg that felt like a bruise, and his mind still felt hazy.

“It’s okay, come on. “ Michael started talking to him softly as the twitching began to let up. It was the most intense seizure he’d been witness to and it was slightly jarring. Michael stopped counting when Dinadan’s eyes began fluttering open, around four and a half minutes.

“We’re in the game room on the boat we’ve been sleeping on. You had a seizure and fell off the couch”, he said. Dinadan made a faint noise and shifted to lay his head in Michael’s lap, pressing his head against his torso. The hazy confusion in Michael’s brain was slowly fading away.

“How long?” Lancelot asked as he made his way into the room. He half expected Lacey to be following her father, but she didn’t show up. The former champion sat across from Michael and placed the water bottle where Michael could reach it.

“Four minutes and thirty-seven seconds. It was a little more intense than they usually are. He didn’t hit his head. I think he’s just going to have a bruise or two on his right side…It’s weird. I felt like I was the one who fell off the couch. I guess I”m pretty attached”, he said, trying to make humorous light of the situation, but his uncle wasn’t laughing. He looked stone cold serious- A near-grave expression on his face.

“Did your mind feel foggy, too?” he asked. And Michael gave him a nod, still focused on making sure that Dinadan was coming around all right.

“I’m only going to ask you this once, and you need to be one hundred percent honest, and then we’ll just pretend I never asked…Did you two engage in…sexual activity that involved a hole being ejaculated into while we were in Tir Na Nog?” he asked. Michael felt his face go bright red and stared at a stiff spot on the carpet to avoid eye contact.

“Yes- Why?” he asked. Lancelot sighed loudly.

“Sometimes, when souls who either reincarnate or return to their bodies in the mortal world engage in…Those actions, the souls become bonded and intertwined. You’re able to feel what the person you did that with feels because your souls became one when one or both of you…released into the other”, he said, sounding just as embarrassed, if not more.

“But I pulled out!”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“It doesn’t matter. If you…If any bodily fluids got in, your souls are bonded. Did you…Oh, gods I feel like such a creep asking. Did you pull out before you…climaxed or when it happened?” his uncle asked. Dinadan was blinking up at him, slowly beginning to come around. He didn’t seem fully aware of anything yet- Especially the conversation happening above his head.

“But we were careful! We went in the water so we wouldn’t, y’know…Disturb anyone. We were as quiet as we could be and I made sure to pull out because we didn’t want to take unnecessary risks… I mean we didn’t have any diseases or anything because we’ve both been tested, and I’ve used a condom except for that time since I didn’t think I’d lose my virginity in the afterlife. But I pulled out when I started to climax, I didn’t want to make him sick or something or…I don’t know what I thought would happen”, Michael started rambling away. His uncle shook his head.

“Okay, well Dinadan wouldn’t bang anyone but you- He’s…I don’ tknow. I can tell when someone’s loyal.  You must have gotten some- however little it was- sperm in him”, he said.

Dinadan shifted against Michael, but he didn’t sit up fully yet. He was more aware now, beginning to move his head around and take in his surroundings.

“What are you talking about?” he asked, sounding incredibly groggy, as though he had just woke up from a deep sleep. Michael took a deep breath before he tried to explain anything.

“We might have developed a soul bond. When you fell, I felt pain in my right arm and leg just like you probably do, and I was experiencing brain fog while you were having your seizure. We can feel what each other feels. It probably happened because what happened between us in Tir Na Nog…Don’t worry, he’s the only one who knows”, he said. Dinadan’s eyes widened, and Michael could feel his breathing pick up where his arm was pressed against his back.

“What?” he asked, nervous and very clearly starting to have anxiety.

“A soul bond happens when two souls briefly become one and then return to the mortal realm in one way or another. They’re able to feel both physical sensations and the emotions of who is usually their partner. Sometimes, those who choose to hone in on it develop the bond deep enough that they can also share their sense of sight and in extreme cases hearing. It tends to happen between supernatural beings and mortals, but that isn’t the only circumstances it can happen in. I want to test the theory before we actually go and start thinking about it, but chances are, the two of you have a soul bond”, Lancelot said.

“What does this mean…Like, if something bad happens to one of us”, Dinadan asked. His hands were shaking. Lancelot still had a grim expression on his face.

“If one half of a soul bond dies, the bond severs. One second you can feel your lover and the next they just… aren’t there”, he said.

“Galehaut and I had a soul bond. I could sense what he was feeling and thinking from across the channel. When he killed himself, I felt his pain, his longing, his sorrow. I felt the pain in his chest when he drank himself to death, and then he slowly faded away…Until he was just gone suddenly. And I immediately knew that I would never get him back, he was dead and gone for good.” he said. Michael felt a pang of sorrow, and the little voice in his head responsible for the majority of his intrusive thoughts briefly wondered if it was from his own or Dinadan’s.

“I’m sorry uncle Lance”, he said. His uncle lifted a hand, swiping a tear from the corner of his eye.

“It’s done and over with. There’s no changing it. I just…wish I did a lot of things differently”, he said.

“Do you have a bond with aunt Guin?” he asked, hoping that getting his uncle to talk about his very much alive wife would help lighten the mood. But his uncle shook his head.

“No…We love each other very much and we have since we got close, but we don’t have a soul bond. For starters, she and I were never in the position to form one, but you also only have one soul bond in your lifetime. The exception is polyamourous couples and tight-knit families. My bond died with Galehaut, and Guin had a soul bond with her little sister since she practically had to raise all her siblings. But don’t sit there and think that having a soul bond is the only way to have love. The vast majority of couples don’t have soul bonds, and you can also have a platonic or familial soul bond that isn’t romantic or sexual.” he explained.  Dinadan finally sat up all the way, leaning heavily on the mattress.

“So…Michael and I have connected souls because we engaged in an action that usually only two people who have married and sworn til death do they part perform. That doesn’t sound so terrible. It’s something we can work with”, Dinadan said. Michael couldn’t help but feel like he was to blame for their predicament.

“We still don’t know for sure if it’s a soul bond or coincidence. It’s the most likely answer given the circumstances. There’s a very easy way to test for a soul bond, especially a relatively fresh one”, Lancelot said, rising to his feet and gesturing for Michael to follow him. He did so without question, following his uncle up to the dock.

It was foggy, but it wasn’t the heavy, thick fog that usually meant a storm was coming. His aunt was sitting at one of the tables writing on a sheet of paper, and standing at her side was Lacey. She smiled when she saw her brother coming.

“Hey, you two have been down there for a while, is everything okay?” she asked. Michael nodded.

“It lasted a little longer than what’s normal, but he’s fine. You also have to consider, Dinadan went three months without having a seizure, when the next one finally hit, it was bound to be kind of intense. He’s up and talking now and he seems to be able to understand the conversations going on around him. I think I was more scared than Dinadan was…” Michael trailed off, planning on leaving everything about the soul bond out until he knew for sure if that was what was going on or if it was something else.

“Guin, I need to borrow your lighter” he said. His wife gave him a concerning look, but she didn’t ask him what he was planning on doing with it.

“Don’t light the ship on fire, it’s the only one we’ve got”, she said. Lacey was harder to convince. She watched them both with narrowed eyes, and waitied to talk untl they were almost at the stairs to below deck.

“Why do you need a lighter?” she asked.

“I need to conduct an experiment on your brother and Dinadan. I think they may be forming a soul bond”, his uncle told her before Michael could stop him.

“Michael Lucas Du- Lac”, she said, her voice at a normal volume, but very authoritative.

“Do you know how soul bonds form, because if you do that’s going to save us a lot of time and me a lot of lying”, he said.

“I was dead for six months, of course I know how they work. Look, I don’t care that you two are having sex. You’re an adult, and Dinadan will be an adult soon. You were both consenting and hopefully responsible, but in the afterlife? That is a huge risk for a number of reasons. It doesn’t take a genius to know that! You could have attracted a fertility deity and been locked in a cave to…perform for the gods. One of you could have gotten pregnant!” Lacey shouted. Michael glanced over his shoulder.

“He’s not, one of you would have noticed by now- And Dinadan would slowly be developing female anatomy if that was the case.” his uncle said.

“Okay, I didn’t know,..”, he muttered, walking briskly to make his escape before Lacey could have said anything else.

“I’m going to take you into the room Guin and I sleep in. I’m not literally going to burn you, but I am going to get the flame pretty damn close. You’ll definitely be able to feel the heat and maybe get a small burn if it flicks at you. Dinadan isn’t going to know anything. If he feels the pain that you did, then we’ll know you have a soul bond”, Lancelot said. Michael nodded, not at all looking forward to it at all, but he was willing to do it for the sake of science or whatever the hell they were calling it.

“Fine”, he said, hoping his sigh didn’t sound too defeated or angry. The room was dark, the light at the window sill seeming to have either been covered or burned out. Lancelot lit the lighter, having to hit the flint a few times to get the flame to stay up. He didn’t know why his aunt had a lighter when there were no candles on the ship and none of them smoked.

Michael held out his left hand, and his uncle brought the flame close, enough that it licked at his skin and caused him to curse, pulling his hand back and looking down at the blistering burn on the side of his hand.

“Sorry, kid”, his uncle said with a grimace.

“Warn me next time”, he said, stepping back into the room, keeping his hand where Dinadan couldn’t see it. Dinadan was dressed in one of Michael’s hoodies and a pair of baggy shorts, absentmindedly messing with the balls on the pool table, playing a game against no one that only he knew the rules to.

“Did you feel anything just now?” Lancelot asked him.

“My side hurts”, Dinadan said.

“Anything else?”

“My left hand, it feels like I got stung by a yellow jacket or touched a hot pan”, he said, glancing down at his skin. Lancelot smirked, and Michael felt guilty.

“Lancelot burned me with a lighter on my left hand”, he said.

“You two have a soul bond”.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“Michael, please just calm down”, Dinadan said as Michael continued to pace on the dock of the boat. It was around noon and the east coast of the U.S. was now visible in the bright sunlight. If he listened hard enough, he could hear the planes taking off and the general bustle of D.C. But that wasn’t why he was pacing. He was pacing because of the soul bond.

“Dina, I swear if I knew this was going to happen I would’ve gotten away sooner or not done anything at all while we were there.”

“Michael- Neither of us had any idea what we were getting into. It’s done and over with now”, he said. Michael couldn’t stop himself from wondering if Dinadan was mad and just hiding it- That he secretly felt that Michael ruined his life. And he knew those were intrusive thoughts- Not his own, but it was still a hard fear to shake.

“I know, but I’m the one who should have used protection, and I didn’t and now we have a soul bond that will not break unless one of us bites the dust…I practically forced the soul bond on you and I just…You must hate me”, he said. Dinadan sighed, standing up and making his way across the hull to stand before him.

“You can’t force something that neither of us had any knowledge of. Did I tell you no?” he asked. Michael shook his head.

“Did I ask you to stop?”

“No”

“Did I get mad at you”? He asked. Michael shook his head again.

“Did you force yourself on me?” he asked.

“Um…I-I’m not…”, Because Michael truly didn’t know.

“Here’s a hint. We would not still be in a relationship if that was the case”, his boyfriend said.

“No?” Michael said. Dinadan smiled, reaching out and holding onto his hands.

“Exactly, so stop freaking out. It’s a soul bond. We can feel when one of us is hurt or upset. If anything, that’s an advantage. No, I didn’t want a soul bond or agree to one, but you didn’t either. It’s just something that happened, so let’s just move on and forget about it”, Dinadan told him. Michael forced a smile and squeezed his boyfriend’s hands before he let go.

“Okay, do we all have everything we need?” Lancelot asked, coming up the stairs from below deck with a duffle bag slung over his shoulder. They all looked homeless. Michael was wearing a dress shirt and oversized boxers. Dinadan was wearing dress pants and a blouse made for someone with a very large chest. Guinevere was dressed like Adam Sandler and Lancelot resembled a dead farmer. He had managed to damage his tennis shoes and walked around barefoot.

“Yes, I’ve checked multiple times”, Michael said, snapping out of his nervous haze and touching the left pocket of his backpack just to double-check that he still had his car keys.

“Alright, and Dinadan, you’re sure Cannibal remembers how to get home?” he asked. Michael’s boyfriend nodded.

“Yes, and I just tested them. He’s able to carry Runt on his back and still fly enough that he won’t be spotted over the city”, his knight said.

“Okay, get them going, then,” he said. Dinadan nodded and turned to the dragons. He muttered some commands in Welsh and gestured with his hands for a bit before Runt got on the larger Dragon’s back. With a sharp whistle and a ‘go home’ command, Cannibal flapped his wings and took flight. The force from him stirring the wind up was almost enough to knock Michael back.

“When we dock, we’re going to walk to the airport. It’s too risky to hail a cab and risk being recognized. To everyone else, we’re just going to look like a homeless family. Once we get to JFK, we’re going to find Michael’s car and try to start it. If that doesn’t work, Guinevere can hotwire it for you and if that doesn’t work, we can steal a car. We need to get Lacey to the estate as fast as we can and then hope The Morrigan kept her promise.” Lancelot said. It was easy to tell he was both Haven’s General and a royal champion when he talked like that, commanding and authoritative with no room to be questioned. But at the end of the day, he was still Michael’s uncle and Lacey’s dad. He wasn’t scary to them, even though he had made it into the legends and seemed to strike fear into the hearts of enemy soldiers with his name alone.

“And then we finally go home”, Michael said.

“No…Not quite. When people reincarnate, they have to have time to recover. We can’t take Lacey back barely able to speak, let alone walk. It could take a few weeks for her to recover, or it could be another two months before we finally get to go back”,  Lancelot said, sounding grave. Michael could stop himself from rolling his eyes.

“Great…We get to where we can finally end this shit, and now we have to wait even longer. If the gods can bring people back from the dead, surely they can make it so those people…you know, aren’t still corpses”, he said, feeling anger welling in his chest. Dinadan came to his side, reaching out to touch his shoulder.

“Michael, just be grateful that this is happening…I could have stayed dead, but you were able to get my spirit back, and now I’m being put back in my body. Very few people are as lucky as we have been”, Lacey said. Sometimes she would speak, but not actually be visible. She couldn’t be seen at all times, apparently, it took too much energy. She also didn’t have a shadow or reflection. Michael immediately felt a burst of guilt and nodded his head in defeat.

Although he knew better, Michael couldn’t help but think every person who looked even slightly in his direction knew exactly who he was and what he was doing, but they made it to JFK without any issues.  It took a lot of wandering through the lot and the levels of the parking garage before actually finding his car. It wasn’t damaged, and the only thing different was the note under his windshield wiper. At first, Michael thought it was a ticket, even though he’d paid for long-term parking, but it turned out to be a note from a woman who accidentally hit his car, and it was new.

She had busted his tail light, but it wasn’t anything he was worried about. The dent wasn’t that bad compared to the damage he’d managed to do backing into a fire hydrant and what Lacey’s car looked like.

It was stiflingly hot inside the vehicle, but the engine started right away. The sigh of relief was immediate and in total unison. Michael turned his air conditioning as high as would go and rolled the windows down. His CD player whirred before starting to blast the Peirce The Veil CD he’d had on. He was amazed that the disc hadn’t melted in the summer heat.

She’s mine, you stay away from her it’s not her time.

“Looks like we got lucky…But I think someone siphoned gas out of it.”, he said. Lacey cleared her throat in the back seat, demanding an answer without explicitly telling him.

“I filled up on gas on the way to the airport and now I’ve only got a quarter tank”, he said.

“Well, looks like we’re going to have to make a stop, then”, his sister said, and without even thinking, Michael found himself laughing, looking in the rearview mirror at his aunt’s concerned face.

“My car’s haunted now”, he said.
 
Five hours later, just as the sun was on the verge of setting, they arrived at Isaiah’s estate, parking off the side of the road where they wouldn’t be seen. They had three hours to resurrect Lacey. Though in a way, she was gone for good. She’d always have the scars from the Skinwalker attack, and she would never be a human again- though she technically wasn’t anyway- She was going to be a goddess- Going to be immortal.

The woman who raised him was gone for good.

Even though the grass in the surrounding area was overgrown, Lacey’s grave had been kept clear of foliage, a bouquet of dead roses obscuring her death day.

“I missed December and I’s anniversary”, she said softly. Lacey was once again just a voice, but it sounded like she was residing over by Dinadan, who stood across from Michael.

“Do we just…Start digging and wait for The Morrigan to show up?” Dinadan asked. In the distance, a crow called before landing a few yards away from the group. A dark, hissing mist rose up from the ground, and when it cleared, The Morrigan stood before them once again.

“I am here, but you do need to dig”, she said. Lancelot immediately got to work with the shovel from Michael’s trunk. He kept it there for the agriculture class he’d had in college- which he most definitely was considered a dropout of now. Michael, Dinadan, and Guinevere immediately began to dig up the thickly packed dirt with their hands until the roof of Lacey’s wooden coffin was exposed after nearly an hour of digging which left him out of breath with his arms shaking and shoulders burning.

The wood was rotted and Michael worried about the condition of his sister’s body. He jumped down into the grave with Guinevere and lifted the lid away. The scent of death hit him like an atomic blast, causing him to gag and nearly vomit, but Lacey was normal looking. Still dead, but not a rotting corpse filled with maggots. Her clothes and hair were more ragged than they originally were, but Lacey’s body was unharmed.

“Alright, Lacey, please re-enter your body.” the goddess spoke. Michael didn’t see his sister’s spirit go back into the shell of her corpse, but he felt the gust of wind as though someone had jumped down into the grave. Absolutely nothing happened.

“You have to lift her out of the grave”, The Morrigan told him. Michael leaned down and got his arms around Lacey’s torso, pushing her body into a sitting position. He was expecting her to be limp, but she was cold and stiff. He felt no breathing and no pulse. The smell was worse now that he was touching her, and he could see that her skin was faintly gray.

Not as untouched by death as originally thought to have been.

Guinevere gathered Lacey’s legs into her arms, and together, they carefully maneuvered the body above their heads as carefully as possible until Lancelot and Dinadan were able to take Lacey from their hands and lay her back down next to her grave. Michael crouched down to help his aunt out of the grave as he placed the lid back on the coffin after accepting the hand Lancelot offered and letting himself be hauled out of the ground.

The Morrigan gave a brief tilt at the waist that resembled a curtsey.

“Thank you for your help, lady Morrigan. We will honor the gift you have granted us.” Guinevere said. The goddess only smiled faintly, muttering a spell under her breath and disappearing with the cry of a crow and a cloud of mist. The black tendrils crept across the forest floor like hoards of thousands of spiders and seeped under Lacey’s body. Dinadan crouched down, his fingers at her neck.

“There’s no pulse, “ he said. Michael felt worry starting to creep up inside his chest, his hands shaking as he wondered if he had really thrown his life away all for nothing at all.

“Maybe we need to do CPR or-”

“Wait, wait- It’s starting…One, two”,..Dinadan started to count the beats he was feeling under his fingers. At first, they were few and far between, but started to get faster until Lacey’s heart seemed to decide it was going to maintain eighty beats per minute.

And then, she moved, arching slightly, her chest heaving as she heaved in the first breath she’d taken in over six months.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Michael had nothing to compare to the massive wave of relief he felt when Lacey opened her eyes. They were a little glassy, and not quite focused. Michael hadn’t been able to contain his tears, leaning down and hugging his sister tighter than he knew he was able to. Against his chest, Michael could feel Lacey’s heartbeat, feel her lungs surging even though she was still painting and gasping, having to breathe through her mouth and not quite able to force words yet. There was an initial concern that she might not be able to talk given how deep the wound to her throat was, but that was quickly removed when her head lolled to the side, her bright blue eyes locking on him.

“Michael”, she said.

The celebration was short-lived. Lacey had only been capable of saying “mom’, and ‘dad’ and the names of everyone at Haven. Her voice was weak and raspy, hardly even a whisper. She could sit up on her own, but she couldn’t hold herself up well, and she couldn’t stand up to even attempt to walk. Not to mention that night was starting to fall.

The decision was made to find an inn out of the way of the city and stay there until they could leave.

Guinevere was the first one to carry Lacey. She had held her daughter for most of the time since she’d first fully come back, so it made sense for her to simply slip an arm under her daughter’s knees and pick her up. Lacey was still visibly stiff, but her limbs were starting to be slack, loosening up as she warmed up, her blood flowing better as more time passed.

Michael couldn’t have been sure what direction he was actually driving in, not even using a turn signal for more than switching lanes until his uncle told him to turn left. The hotel was big, but it was out of the way and Michael couldn’t see any outside security cameras. When Lancelot came back after disappearing for some time, he spilled the details fast.

“I told the receptionist we’re on vacation, and we just left the hospital with Lacey because she had a medical emergency. I used a fake name and paid in cash. I said this is close to our destination to justify the month- long stay. She gave us two rooms right across from each other on the third floor. We’re good to go”, he said. Michael was never more grateful for the inhuman charm his uncle seemed to possess.

Granted, he was part Fae, but Michael suspected that wasn’t the only reason Lancelot was the way he’d turned out.

Michael was next to pick Lacey up, as his aunt sent Dinadan to get as many drinks and snacks as he could from the vending machine and Lancelot had managed to sprain his wrist on the ship. It was almost absurdly hilarious how it happened. The man could fight against four armed MI6 agents and come out with no more than a black eye and chipped tooth, but stairs seemed to be his enemy.

He managed to sprain his wrist and break his thumb falling up the stairs.

Lacey was somewhat heavy, as she was a bit of a dead weight seeing as she was unable to hold onto him, but it wasn’t terrible. Lacey didn’t seem to care, leaning her head on Michael’s shoulder in the elevator.

“Where are we?” she croaked. The first full sentence she’d managed. Michael wondered if it was just a side effect of not using it, or if her voice was always going to sound like that due to the damage done to her throat by the Skinwalker.

“We stopped at a hotel so you can get used to being alive again. Dinadan and I are going to be in the room right across the hall from you and your parents”, he told her. It felt so weird. It was like he was suddenly in what had been Lacey’s shoes for twenty years. Suddenly taking on the role of a caretaker that he wasn’t at all obligated to be.

“Lancelot, can you go get clothes for everyone to change into? I’m going to help Lacey take a bath…No offense kiddo, but you smell like you really were decaying- And please be careful”, she said. Her husband only nodded, pressing a quick kiss to his wife’s lips and handing her the key.

“Uh…Don’t you think it’s a little dangerous for us to be going to the store?” he asked, only for his uncle to scoff at him.

“Oh please, I’m not going to the store, I’m stealing shit from the lost and found”, he said.

Michael followed his aunt into the two-bed hotel room the three of them had. It was a disgusting shade of yellow, and someone had the bright idea to paint the walls red. It hurt to look at, and the pink-tiled bathroom was no better.

“Just lay her down in the bathtub. I can handle the rest, she doesn’t really want to…” his aunt trailed off as she searched for a towel, her eyes scanning his face trying to figure out what and how much he knew.

“She’s scared of men…I’ve known and I know exactly why. Do you want me to tell uncle Lance not to open the bathroom door when he gets back”, Michael asked. His aunt shook her head.

“Lancelot knows everything that I know- I almost had to stop him from going on a killing spree- He won’t open that door unless he thinks someone’s dying. He probably won’t even interrupt to let us know he’s here. He’s kind of…obsessive when it comes to privacy, but sharing your bed chambers with three other men can kind of do that do you, I guess”, she said with a shrug. Michael nodded.

“I’m right across the hall”, he said.

“Get some sleep, kid”, his sister muttered.

“I’ll try…Good night, guys”, he said, barely hearing his aunt tell him thank you as he went across the hall. Michael nearly ran into his boyfriend, carrying an armful of water, soda, and chips.

“This isn’t everything, I’m just splitting it between the five of us”, he said, quickly ducking past Michael to set the bounty on the TV stand.

Their room wasn’t any better in appearance. It was barf green on the inside, and the walls were orange, but thankfully their bathroom was at least the same shade of green as everything else in the room. Michael was hungry, and he really wanted to dig into the snacks, but he smelled like a dead body and didn’t want to contaminate the rest of the room. He stepped into the bathroom, and his initial thought was to just throw away his old clothes, but with how much the scent was clinging he changed his mind, instead choosing to open the window, push out the screen and chuck them into the field behind the parking lot.

“Um…” his boyfriend’s voice said from the doorway.

“We smell like death, we’re going to have to just toss our clothes out the window…I’m going to go get a shower running”, he said. Dinadan nodded, accepting what was going on. Everyone had to have been in some form of shock.

The water smelled like sulfur when it first came out of the shower head, and the pipes were squealing like a choir of thousands of damned souls. Better than nothing. Michael scrubbed his hair and skin harder than he ever had before, desperate to rid himself of the scent of decay. It was unnerving knowing that the person who had gotten that smell on him, to begin with was very much alive.

Dinadan was silent as he got into the shower and began to wash up, his hands trembling slightly, though Michael couldn’t differentiate between his own fear and his boyfriend’s. He lathered his hands with soap and gently worked the foam into his head, trying to offer Dinadan solace while he couldn’t force himself to summon words. In return, Dinadan helped him scrub his back, and that was when his boyfriend suddenly gasped.

“Dinadan?” he asked, unsure of what had suddenly caused him to be so startled.

“I can feel your wings”, he murmured, lightly brushing his fingertips over the skin on either side of Michael’s spine. It made him shiver in the hot water, and he felt a shift in his back, as was often the case when his presumed wings relaxed. It was always more comfortable for him when they were relaxed. He was able to lean back and often didn’t even feel them like that.

“Reallly- Like they’re poking through my skin?” he asked. That was a regular fear that Michael had. He never got a straight answer as to weather or not his wings returning was going to hurt, and his body wasn’t giving him any clear signs.

“No, I can just feel that there’s these two extra bones next to your spine. I don’t think you can bend your arm back enough to touch them”, he said. Afterwards, Dinadan fell silent, not speaking a word as he slid under the sheets. Michael wondered if he was sick, or maybe on the verge of having another seizure, although his eyes were usually unfocused when that happened.

“Hey, are you okay?” Michael asked him, sliding under the covers next to Dinadan. He nodded, but he continued to remain silent as he slid up against Michael’s side and rested his head on his chest. Even though he was acting purposefully calm, Michael could feel his boyfriend’s heart racing against his side.

“Dinadan…” he prompted him.

“I’m fine…This is all just…It’s very overwhelming”, he said with a sigh. MIchael chuckled, knowing now exactly how he was feeling. He suspected that sinking feeling in his chest that had been around the whole evening may not have only been his own anxiety. He wrapped his arms around Dinadan, briefly squeezing him before loosening his grasp again.

“I know. I think we’re all overwhelmed, and probably in the beginning stages of shock, but hey, we got through the hard part, right? Now all that’s left to do is go home”, he told him. Dinadan nodded, his heart rate slowing just enough for Michael to feel it.

“Yeah…Hell, that’s going to be a disaster”, he said.

“We’ll live…Do you want me to rub your back or do you think you can pass out on your own?”  he asked. Dinadan shrugged.

“I can fall asleep on my own, but you know I’m never going to say no to that if you’re offering”, he said. Michael couldn’t help but stifle a laugh at that. He’d never though himself particularly skilled at anything, let alone with his hands but Dinadan loved it. (His knight was also immensely touch starved, but Michael couldn’t place all the blame on that fact) He had only started with the massages to begin with because it helped him with his panic attacks, but MIchael would do anything for his boyfriend.

It didn’t take long for Dinadan to fall asleep- It never did, and Michael slipped back under the covers with him, curling around his body, resting on the mop of hair on Dinadan’s head.

That night, the Angels made their way back into Michael’s dreams.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Michael woke up that night multiple times, each time switching between Heaven and Hell, Angels and Demons. At last, he gave up on the prospect of sleep, turning the TV on and muting it to avoid waking his boyfriend. It was around six in the morning when they got a visitor. They were the only ones on the third floor of the building at the moment, and it was easier for them to go between at any hour if they had to or wanted to. Guinevere had quickly made a rule that they couldn’t lock the doors unless someone was sick, they felt like they were in danger, or one of the two couples needed alone time.

He was more than greatful his aunt hadn’t elaborated on that, but he had felt the massive side eye she had been giving him the whole time- The comment about the thin ship walls ringing loud and clear in his ears.

Michael sat up, looking around and anticipating the presence of a threat, but all it was was Lacey. She was walking stiffly, and having to lean on the wall. Michael untangled himself from Dinadan and walked over to help his sister. She didn’t look much different, save for the new scars she possessed. Her skin still had a slight gray pallor, but it was less noticeable than it had been when she first came back to life. She seemed almost small in the clothes she was wearing from the lost and found. She had on red sweatpants bunched around her feet and tied incredibly tightly, and a faded black t shirt that went nearly to her knees.

HIs sister leaned on him with a sigh as MIchael led her over to the bed.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up”, she whispered. MIchael shook his head, sliding back under the sheet and making sure his sister had room. Yes, Lacey was scared of men, but there seemed to ba an exception for her father and Michael. She was cautious around her dad, but not scared of him. She could be strange with Michael sometimes, but she seemed to be more protective than anything else- And he figured it was hard to be scared of someone who you once changed the diapers of and such. She wasn’t afraid of Dinadan either, but Michael wasn’t sure if it was because she knew she could disarm him in the span of a few seconds or because he was gay and therefore wouldn’t want anything to do with her.

And that didn’t mean Victor had done anything to deserve Lacey’s careful additude toward him, he just happened to have a dick.

“I was already up…I’ve been having the dreams of Angels and such. You know how that all goes, and I can never sleep after I get them. Do your parents know you left?” he asked, thinking of how scared Lancelot and Guinevere would be if they woke up and their daughter wasn’t in there anymore.

“My dad was half awake when I got up to leave, but I left them a note. I kept…I kept having really weird dreams about that thing that killed me hurting you and about you getting trapped in Tir Na Nog. I just had to be sure that you’re alright”, she said. Michael nodded and laid back down.

“Whatever…You can stay here until you’re actually ready to get up. I’m okay, I promise”, he said. Michael couldn’t really laugh about it when he often had the same concerns.

MIchael rolled over and gathered his boyfriend into his arms again, feeling the heat radiate off of his sister like it was supposed to. Just the way a real, living, breathing person did.

“So are you actually like…Some reincarnated fallen angel?” she asked. Michael held back a chuckled, sure to whisper to avoid waking Dinadan up since he’d already shifted to lay his head against his chest again.

“Yeah. I have the visits and visions in my sleep and I have been. I…They showed me my own birth in my dreams. Like when I came into this body. From what I’ve learned, I had premarital sex with a male angel and it pissed off Yaweh. He said I could either be a demon or reincarnate as a human and clearly I chose the later, loosing my rank and all that shebang. But apparently he’s decided to forgive me and I’m going to earn my wings back soon”, he said. He didn’t know how absurd that seemed until he actually said it out loud. Lacey didn’t make any sounds or comments that suggested that she didn’t believe him.

“And you know that to be fact”, she said in disbelief, no matter how hard she tried to conceal it.

“I do…We figured this out last night actually, that you can feel the wing bones through my skin”, he said. Lacey’s hand brushed over his back, trying to find what he was talking about and suddenly she pulled her hand away with a gasp that was just barely loud enough to be heard.

“Wow, that is strange”, she chuckled quietly.

“So have you really become a goddess?” he asked. He wondered if Lacey was immortal now if it meant other things entirely.

“I don’t know…I mean, I know what The Morrigan said, but I don’t feel any different. Maybe it takes time or something”, she said. The sheets rustled, suggesting a shrug. Michael hummed and closed his eyes, just dozing rather than letting himself fall asleep.

Not a full hour later, Dinadan rolled over and sat up. Michael didn’t think anything of it until he didn’t do anything. He didn’t lay back down to catch a few more minutes of sleep. He didn’t get up to start his day or even move over to the couch to write music and draw. He just sat back against the headboard of the bed, awake but oddly silent.

Michael waited some time before he opened his eyes and looked up at his boyfriend. Dinadan was paler than usual, and while he wasn’t panting, he was clutching at his chest like it hurt him. Michael sat up, suddenly on autopilot. He had a pit in his stomach- A feeling of impending doom and he suspected that it wasn’t his.

“Dina, what’s wrong?” he asked. Dinadan only shook his head, looking down at the sheet. He sat up to get a better look at him, and all he did was redirect his eyes away from Michael.

“Babe…” he said softly, aware that Lacey had fallen asleep on his other side. Dinadan shook his head and looked at the opposite wall, but Michael still caught sight of the spare tear the rolled down his cheek when he placed his hand on his shoulder. He shook his head again, like he expected that would make it go away.

“I’m just really, really overwhelmed…And I-I don’t know what to do. I think something’s wrong with me, because the four of you all seem fine with this. You’re all acting like it doesn’t bother you and I can’t stop panicking about it. There’s just so much going on and so many things that have happened, but for some reason it just…I can’t think about anything else. My brain is so crowded and I just don’t know how to handle it”, he suddenly spoke in a burst of words. Michael found himself making a hushing sound, reaching over and wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

“Hey, hey, hey…I know it’s a lot, I know. But you’re going to be okay, I promise. You aren’t alone in this. You’ve got four other people feeling the same emotions weather you’re aware of it or not. It’s going to be okay- You’re going to be okay”, he said. There was movement next to him as he Lacey woke up next to him.

“What’s going on?” she asked, her voice slightly less raspy than the day prior. Michael glanced down at his boyfriend and didn’t see any sign of resistance.

“He’s really overwhelmed…I just need to try to stop it from getting any worse right now…I appreciate your concern but there isn’t anything you can do.” he said. Lacey nodded, but she didn’t get up and go across the hall again, possibly too weak to do it. Michael shifted to hold Dinadan more comfortably, letting him bury his head in his chest and holding tight. When the tears started to flow, Michael let it happen. He wasn’t struggling to breathe and he wasn’t shaking so he wasn’t dealing with a silent panic attack, and sometimes it was good to just let him cry for awhile. Get it out of his system.

“It’s okay…It’s okay. I’ve got you and I’m not going anywhere. Just breathe for right now okay? I know you don’t feel like it but this is going to pass. I swear on my life that you’re going to be okay”, he said, repeating a mixture of those words over and over. After a few minutes went by, the tears started to let up and finally ceased altogether. Michael pulled away just enough to see his face.

“Doing better?” he asked. Dinadan shrugged.

“I…yeah. I’m just kind of lightheaded”, he said. Micheal nodded. It was normal after he’d been having bad anxiety- Especially if it resulted in tears.

“Okay, lay down for awhile”, he said, gently guiding him down until he was laying with his head in Michael’s lap. When he looked over at Lacey, she was smiling softly at the sight before her.

“You remind me of December”, she said. Michael chuckled, glancing down at Dinadan and running his fingers through his hair.

“Seriously. You’re so caring…And you always manage to do the right thing. He deserves you”, she said. Michael glanced down at the man he would do anything for- Would do anything to protect and serve him even if it meant things wouldn’t end well for him. Michael would gladly lay his life down for his knight.

“I…I’m flattered, but I think I needed him too- Though I don’t think I’m quite perfect enough for Dinadan” he said. His boyfriend slapped his leg weakly and scoffed, looking up at him with eyes that were still slightly puffy from crying.

“You’re more than I could have ever asked for, Michael. You are all I’ve ever wanted or needed. Don’t say those things about yourself because they are so far from being true”, Dinadan said, his tone slightly defensive. Michael smiled down at him once more, suddenly unaware of everything going on around him.

“Dinadan, can I ask you something?” he asked. Dinadan slowly sat up, looking at him in confusion.

“What is it”, he asked.

“Look…I know I’m not special and I know we’ve only been together for a few months, but I love you more than anything…I want to give you what you deserve and all that and more….I don’t have a fancy speech, or a token to give you. I don’t even have a plan because I just felt this immense need to ask you- But I promise I will make both our lives worth it to make up for how poorly I’m executing this…Dinadan, will you marry me?” he asked. Dinadan’s eyes widened immensely.

“For real?” he asked.

“So much more than real”, Michael told him. Dinadan leaned up and kissed him briefly, his eyes glassy with tears.

“Yes”.

“Uh…stil here, Michael”, Lacey said, and despite himself, Michael found himself bursting into laughter, accidentally deflecting from the kiss Dinadan was going in for.

“Michael…” Dinadan started, sounding rightfully concerned. Once he recovered enough to speak, Michael had to stop himself from snorting and cracking up in the middle of his sentence.

“We just got engaged in front of my sister!” he exclaimed, doubling over once again.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Lacey returned to her parents once everyone was slightly more awake- The more accurate version of that situation was she borrowed Michael’s phone to text her dad and asked him to come get her seeing as she could still hardly walk. Michael had a feeling that it was going to be a regular occurrence, but he couldn’t say he minded all that much. After his sister being dead and suddenly returned back to life once more, he didn’t care that she wanted to stay close, so did Michael. And she was no different with her parents. They had all ate breakfast together, and it came out that despite Lancelot and Guinevere having a room with two beds for the sake of letting Lacey have her own space, she inevitably ended up at the foot of their bed.

She stayed with her parents after that, however.

Michael felt a bit selfish for being happy about that, but he had spent the past five months with next to no privacy, so he felt like he deserved the shred of satisfaction of being left alone with his boyfriend and no one else. Although, Dinadan wasn’t his boyfriend anymore. He was his fiance. There was no token to show it- No ring on his finger or anything like that to suggest there had been a proposal, but Michael had asked the question, and Dinadan had answered enthusiastically.

And one day, assuming fate was on their side, he’d be Michael’s husband.

But there resided another question entirely. Dinadan was mortal- A human without a shadow of a doubt, and Michael was a fallen angel. Not just any Angel, but the former Archangel Mikh’ael. Once the right hand of Yaweh, one of the strongest dieties to have been born out of the womb of oblivion so long ago that time did not have a word for it. He had once watched over the land of Israel, and everything attached to it- From the cursed Nephilim soldiers under his command to the prostitutes working under the cover of the night.

Perhaps his immortality had been stripped away when he fell just as his halo, wings and abilities had, but if his wings were coming back, surely other things would return as well. Michael couldn’t help but worry and hope that he was just as mortal as his human lover.

He tried not to think about such things, and Dinadan made it easy for him to stop thinking. Practically as soon as they made it back to the room, he had attached his lips to Michael, tasting so very sweet from the syrup he’d been eating.

“Should I lock the door?” Michael asked, in a short hitch of breath after he pulled away briefly. Dinadan only smirked, and Michael couldn’t figure out if the throbbing between his legs had to do with his pants being tight or his dick’s interest in his fiance’s lips. He turned to lock the door as quickly as possible.

When he made his way back to Dinadan, he let his lips stray from his mouth to his neck, nipping at the soft flesh overtop his collarbones. His thin, skilled fingers made their way down to the button of Michael’s jeans, undoing it and unzipping the denim in one swift motion. Michael slid his hands up under the thin fabric of Dinadan’s faded t-shirt, grazing his fingers over his sides, feeling him tense and then relax under his hands. He broke apart just enough to lift the garment over his head, trying to step out of his jeans.

“Hold on,” he whispered. And maybe, he was obsessive about protection, but they were better safe than sorry. Michael got his bag out of the closet and dug through the front zipper pocket where he kept some antacid tablets as well as a ziploc bag he had stuck some condoms in. The bag was empty, and he felt around to see if one had fallen out. Nothing.

With a disappointed sigh, Michael got back up and turned to face his fiance, who had removed his pants.

“I don’t have any condoms”, he said. Dinadan didn’t seem to be concerned. He shrugged, looking in the nightstand drawer and coming up with a bottle of lube- Not just water or some kind of lotion. Though since they were in a single room, it made sense that stuff like that would be in there, but he could see from the door way that it was absent of what Michael needed.

“So…Michael, the first time we didn’t use any, and neither of us have any diseases. We already have a soul bond. I don’t care, it’s not going to matter to me.” he said. Michael couldn’t stop himself from searching Dinadan’s face, worried about him lying to conceal any fear he was feeling.

“Do you promise you’re fine with this?” he asked. Dinadan nodded, standing up to meet him once again. Michael only pulled away from him long enough to get his shirt over his head. He leaned over and slicked his hand with the lubricant. Dinadan lifted up a leg, partially straddling Michael’s hip to give him easier access to him. His fiance hummed at the first digit. Michael knew it wasn’t much anyway, but he also suspected he was somewhat used to Michael’s fingers given that they had spent a lot of time alone on the boat.

“Please, Michael”, he whispered, reaching back to grasp at his hand, attempting to guide him into using his second finger. HIs fiance tilted his head back, giving Micheal easy access to his neck. He could feel Dinadan’s heart racing in his throat under his lips. Dinadan made a high pitched, slight keening sound as Michael slowly pushed into him with three fingers, meeting a little resistance that quickly gave way.

“Are you okay?” he whispered in his ear. Dinadan nodded, leaning into his shoulder as Michael carefully pumped his fingers in and out.

“C-can you edge me?” he asked. Michael could feel him blushing against his shoulder. They had discussed it on the boat, and Dinadan liked it- He just needed warning. Michael didn’t mind doing that if he was alright with it. Michael shifted his hand, criooking his fingers against his prostate. Dinadan panted and gasped, but Michael completely pulled out before he could climax. Michael’s eyes trailed to the empty desk in the corner and then to his belt discarded in the chair.

“Do you trust me?” he asked. Dindadan nodded. Michael stepped away from him and went to get the belt. Dinadan’s eyes widened as he eyed the belt and Michael paused and gave him a chance to say whatever was on his mind.

“Yellow”, he said. That was their code word. They also had a safte word for when everything needed to stop, but yellow just meant they had to talk about something.

“What is it?” Michael asked.

“I don’t want to be spanked with the belt- It’s too reminiscent of how I used to be punished by my eldest brother. If you’re going to beat me, do it with your hand”, he said. Michael could feel a bubbling well of anxiety, but it wasn’t his. He offered a reassuring smile and hoped it didn’t look like a grimace.

“I would never beat you…I couldn’t even bring myself to lay a hand on you…I was going to keep edging you by tying your hands together so you couldn’t touch yourself, and then I had a surprise”, he said. Dinadan had likely already seen the surprise and just wasn’t saying anything about it.

“Okay, just…Not too tight. I want to be able to get out of the restraint if I have to”, he said, holding his wrists out. Michael wound the belt around his wrists, tightening it just enough that Dinadan’s hands wouldn’t slip out. With a gentle hand, Michael guided his fiance over to the desk, and he seemed to understand, leaning over the wooden surface and resting his head upon his arms. Michael paused to slick himself up before he lined himself up with Dinadan’s entrance. He always made sure to give his knight an adjustment period.

When he was met with no protest, Michael pushed into him, slow at first. Dinadan closed his eyes, a small moan escaping his lips. He could take Michael a lot deeper than he had the first time, able to handle about six inches before his face scrunched up in discomfort and he grabbed at his hips to make him hold still. He was slow for the first couple thrusts, holding onto Dinadan’s sides until he seemed to be comfortable. After that, Michael reached up and gripped his shoulder, beginning to pick up the pace, changing his depth and force depending on Dinadan’s reactions.

“Gods, you’re so tight”, he hissed, and he wasn’t wrong. Michael felt a bit awkward and uncomfortable, able to feel the plug he’d had in for around an hour shifting. Dinadan groaned, pressing his face into the wood surface of the desk. Michael started to snap his hips forward, feeling his own release coming and the frenzy of Dinadan’s arousal mingling with his own. That caused a gasp followed by Dinadan started to pant, his breath hitching every time Michael thrust back into him.

“Don’t stop…Oh, gods just like that”, he panted.

“Can I hold you down?” Michael asked. Dinadan only nodded, and Michael grabbed his bound wrists, holding his arms down.

He was getting close to climaxing without Michael touching him. Michael gave a few more jerks of his hips before he warned his fiance.

“Do you want me to pull out?” he asked, only to be met by Dinadan rapidly shaking his head. Michael grunted as he came, and pulled out slowly, his spend running down his fiance’s shaking legs.

Michael kept a hand on Dinadan’s hip to steady him as his knight struggled to catch his breath.

“This surprise better be good”, he said. Michael only chuckled, undoing the belt to free Dinadan’s hands. He pushed Dinadan to lay down on the bed, his member sticking straight up and dripping bit. Michael chose to stroke some of the lube onto him, not wanting it to hurt even though he knew his hole was used to being stretched with how long he’d had the plug in.

Michael leaned down to kiss his fiance, shifting to straddle his waist. He reached back to remove the plug, something that Dinadan watched with wide eyes as what they were about to do seemed to at last register in his mind. He smiled, albeit nervously. Michael took him in his hand and slowly lowered himself onto Dinadan.

At first, he was met with resistance and thought it wasn’t going to go in, but as he sunk down slightly more, it gave way. It stung some, but he was able to adjust as he slowly took more of his length. Michael stopped after three inches, not trusting it to hurt and knowing the plug had only gone that far. Dinadan was reaching up, his slender fingers grasping at his waist to keep him steady.

“Is this okay?” he asked. Dinadan flashed a smile.

“As long as it isn’t hurting you”, he said.

Michael started out slow, unsure of how it would feel, but within two minutes, Dinadan’s panting had gone shrill once again and a hot, sticky liquid released into Michael’s body, overwhelming at first and then just strange, especially after he lifted himself off and it started to run down the backs of his thighs.

“Yuck”, he said, not knowing what else to say about the situation. Dinadan got a concerned expression on his face.

“What’s wrong?” his fiance asked. Michael shook his head.

“Nothing…I just. How do you manage the sensation of that…It feels like i shit myself”, he said. Dinadan chuckled.

“It is a bit unpleasant…But I know what it reallly is…And I kind of… I kind of like the reminder that I’m yours”, he said, a bright red stain to his face.

“Dinadan…you’re so nasty. You can just admit that you liked me tying you up”, he said, only half joking. His fiance’s blush darkened.

“I don’t know how I feel about actually being tied up since my reflex is to get out of any kind of restraint but…but I wouldn’t mind you holding me down next time”...Dinadan trailed off, leaving it open for interpretation.

“Okay, but seriously. We need to get in the bath”,

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“Dad, did you know a ghost is following you?” Lacey asked. Michael set his fork down and stared at his sister in confusion, his uncle choking on his coffee. They had all gone down to get breakfast and then retreated back up to Lancelot and Guinevere’s room. Hotel food was only, as evidenced by the juice Lacey had barely touched and the eggs Dinadan was picking at with his fork. Michael’s pancake tasted like it had been cooked in the same pan as the bacon.

“I’m sorry?” he asked.

“You have this shadow always standing behind you…I didn’t see it when i was still a spirit and I don’t think I can talk to it”, she said. Lancelot raised an eyebrow, but Michael couldn’t read his expression well enough to know weather or not it was one of suspicion or intrigue.

“What does it look like?” he asked. Lacey sat up straighter, setting her paper plate aside as she spoke.

“Well, it’s a shadow so I can’t see any features. I’m also pretty sure its a man, since he’s really tall and broad, but sometimes I get a glimpse of his hair and it looks really long. He’s never super close to you, but he’s also never gone. He doesn’t loom over you either, he kind of just stands back like he’s guarding the room”, she said. A look crossed his uncle’s face that Michael couldn’t quite figure out. He didn’t know how to describe it and he looked almost worried, yet sad at the same time.

“Galehaut…He promised…The last thing he said to me was that he’d always be there to protect me”, he said, his voice cracking when he spoke the name of his dead lover. Michael felt bad for him.

“It looks like he was good at keeping promises”, his aunt commented, and Lancelot smiled sadly.

“He was”, he whispered.

“Mom, you have spirits too. There’s two of them. One looks like a guy with a crown on his head, maybe? But the other one’s a child. Sometimes the man walks beside you, but the kid always hangs back”, Lacey said. Her mother’s face went white and she shared a look with her husband that Michael couldn’t read for the life of him.

“Arthur?” Dinadan asked in confusion, but Michael’s aunt shook her head.

“No, he isn’t fully dead. He’s residing in Avalon waiting for his time to fulfil the future part of his prophecy. And even if he did fully pass away, he wouldn’t leave the lake- He’s had a bound spirit since the day he was born”, she said. She talked of her former husband like he was a best friend, but given the circumstances, they had likely never been anything but friends.

“You know what? I bet it’s your father, Guin. He said he’d never be too far away to call upon when he…”

“I know”, she cut her husband off, but it was clear that she didn’t want to remember how her father died.

“Do I have spirits?” Dinadan asked, hesitation clear in his tone. Lacey nodded, searching his face as though she was unsure if he wanted her to tell him what she could see in front of other people, but he nodded.

“There’s a man and woman that walk with you. I can’t figure anything out about the woman, but the man is a knight. Sometimes they’re walking next to you, but other times they hang back like Galehaut does”, she said. Dinadan went silent for a moment, and Michael could sense that his wheels were turning.

“I think it might be Tristain and Isolde. They raised me after I came to Camelot”, he said. It was tragic, really. Dinadan left home when he was eight. His family was a mess. The father of his older siblings was dead, and he was the child of a servant. His mother had passed in childbirth with the last of eight children. His oldest brother Bruenor, took the throne of their small kingdom. His sister, Ysuelt was forced to marry Bruenor- who grew into a cruel man- and took her own life. Hector became a knight, got kidnapped and sold into a slave trade, vanishing forever. His twin sisters, Helaine and Destiny had unforturnate endings, too. Destiny died in battle and Helaine was sold into marriage in what became Germany in an attempt to make peace with the Saxons. Daniel had been sent to Camelot at eight years old to become a squire and died in a flood. Dinadan had gone to find his brother, nearly dead of starvation when Isolde found him at Camelot’s gates. Dana was only five when he left.

“Michael, you don’t have any spirits, but I see your halo…It isn’t yellow, though. It’s silver and it looks like there’s a crack”, she said. Michael didn’t know how to take that. He didn’t know how to handle any of the information about his being an Angel.

“It’s not overwhelming. I don’t really see these things unless I look hard”, she said. Michael bit back a giggle.

“You’re like that kid from Sixth Sense”, he said. Lacey shot him a confused glance, but it made sense. Her memory wasn’t what it used to be, creeping back slowly. She had explained that she was silent after first coming back not just because it was hard, but because she had to think really hard to remember how to talk.

“‘I see dead peole”’ he quoted the line from the movie that Lacey had the bright idea to let him watch when he was ten.  He hadn’t been able to sleep without the lights on for days afterwards.

“Don’t make me think about it”, she said darkly.

After that, the conversation fell into silence as everyone begrudgingly finished their food, ultimately leading to the most mundane of conversations, as their few calm moments often did. Lancelot and Guinevere started talking about something incredibly ridiculous that happened once when they were in London, Lacey listening attentively- looking at them like they hung the stars in the sky. Dinadan migrated over onto Michael’s lap, leaning on his shoulder and seeming entirely content to just listen to the others talk. A silent observer, as always.

But Michael found his mind straying to Haven. To the documents he printed that suspiciousl vanished off of his laptop. The hush money. The lawsuits. The deaths with suspicion written all over them. What had to have been hundreds of cover-ups over the years. It made no sense but was also far too easy to put the pieces together if he thought too much.  Michael felt like he was getting in over his head- Didn’t actually know what he was talking about, but something told him it was likely far worse than he thought it was. That he was just scratching the surface. And if he was going to say anything, he needed to say it now. Away from the mansion with thin walls. Away from the prying eyes of his coworkers and away from Aimee- The source of everything.

“Guys, I have something to say, and it’s really important so please listen. I could be blowing things out of proportion but I don’t think I am”, he said. Lancelot, Guinevere and Lacey all turned to look at him in reverse order. Lacey was attentive and concerned. Parental in nature even though her son in all but blood was an adult. Guinevere was curious, intrigued, and it made sense. Michael had noticed that his aunt liked to gather information on anything she could get her hands on. Lancelot was worried and suspicious. Cautious wasn’t the right word. He wasn’t a careful watcher, he was a soldier watching for the moment he needed to strike and it was slightly jarring.

He couldn’t see Dinadan’s face, but he felt his body stiffen with fear.

“What is it?” his aunt asked. Michael felt his face grow warm, his heartrate picking up as the worry that he was exaggerating everything made its way into his mind. Dinadan reached down and squeezed his hand.

He didn’t let go after loosening his grip.

“Haven is corrupt…I don’t know all the details and I don’t know if it’s just us or just Aimee, but I got access to death records that I printed out because I had a suspicion that they might be deleted, and I was right. A lot of the deaths and dissappearances are really suspicious. And the finances- I don’t know how I missed this, but we’re in so much debt. Haven has been repeatedly sued and handed out hush money. Aimee is covering something up, and gods know what it is…And I’ve had a bad feeling about this for a long time. This Haven business, but also Aimee as a person”, he said. And to Michael’s surprise, no one’s voice rose in anger.

“It doesn’t feel right to me, either. And Aimee’s a dick”, his fiance said.

“I’ve never trusted her”, Lacey agreed.

“Haven has always had power issues, and it always will, but this hush money and such…It’s got corruption and secrets written all over it”, Lancelot said, his wife nodding beside him.

“We’ll confront her when we get back, though…What will we do if it all falls apart? The last time a Haven collapsed…” she trailed off.

“I think I’m capable of leading Haven, or at least logical enough to back a vote on who the new leader should be with valid evidence. I’m not saying it won’t be difficult, but I’m willing to try”, Michael said. He didn’t like how honest he was being with them.

“If a conflict arises, I’ll be right beside you”, Dinadan said, once again squeezing his hand.

“If I have to shed blood to make things right and fix this mess, I will. And there isn’t anyone I’d trust more to lead such and operation”, Lacey told him. The look in her eyes was dangerous, cold. She had never resembled Lancelot more than she did in that moment.

“I don’t know what’s coming, but I serve who is just and right. It’s an oath I swore my life to uphold”, Lancelot said with a curt nod.

“My blade leads me where my family fights. I will follow without question so long as you do not turn out like Aimee”, his aunt promised. For some absurd, inexplicable reason, his uncle burst out laughing.

“They really are just like you, Arthur and I”, he said, Guinevere nodding along. Michael blanched.

“What?” Dinadan asked, confused.

“The noble leader, once Arthur, now Michael. The spouse of the leader, just as dangerous and twice as logical- Once Guinevere, now Dinadan. And the champion prepared to lay down their life for what’s right. It used to be me, and now my daughter carries that torch. It fits so well”. He elsaborated. 
 
Later in their room, Michael heaved an exhausted sigh, his fiance looking just as tired. He looked over him, and that was when he noticed his hands.

“You’re shaking”, he said, already crossing the room to embrace Dinadan, who leaned on him, grateful and exhausted.

“It’s just…It’s all so much, Michael”, he said.

“It is, but let’s just think about the here and now, Dina. What do you need right now not to feel so overwhelmed”, he asked, guiding them both to the bed as his fiance buried his head against his shoulder. Michael figured he was on the verge of becoming nonverbal, as he often did when he got too overwhelmed and found it too much effort to communicate.

“Can you tell me about Dinaosaurs?” he asked.