"We die a little every day
and by degrees we're reborn
into different men, older men
in the same clothes, with
the same scars."

~~Mark Lawrence

****************

~Nova~

I woke before dawn, my bed empty much to my disappointment although I wasn't surprised. It had been that way more often than not lately and it was beginning to wear on my nerves. Turning on my side, I burrowed deeper into the cover and closed my eyes, searching for sleep once again. But after several minutes, and more tossing and turning, I gave up.

Huffing out a frustrated sigh, I flopped my arms down on top of the blankets and blinked up at the ceiling with bleary eyes. I was tired, my eyes feeling gritty and sleep deprived, but my mind was already trying to push thoughts around, faster than I particularly cared for.

Last night, Michael's emotions had left me raw and disturbed even after I had left his room and returned to my own. Robbie had asked repeatedly what was wrong but what was I supposed to say? It wasn't like I could explain it in words but even I had I knew Robbie wouldn't have understood. My history with Michael wasn't a simple one and the way things had left off the last time we were under the same roof hadn't exactly been platonic. 

But the pain... gods, the pain, that Michael had tried so hard to squash down had been staggering, nearly agonizing and I wasn't even feeling it directly. His shield had been up but it had all been so much that I had felt it anyway. He was silently drowning in a pit of self hate and shame, remorse and fear cutting the edges into razor sharp blades that only seemed to emphasize it all. And the loneliness trapped beneath it all was almost crippling. 

I had felt it all, standing there on the other side of his door with Nevada at my side. Seeing my distress she had taken my hand, helping me carry the weight as it washed over the two of us. After a moment, neither of us able to stand his suffering, I had knocked on the door. His emotions dissipated almost instantly and a loud thud came from the other side, vibrating through the floor. 

When I saw him lying there, eyes swollen and tear tracks streaking down his blotchy face, my heart broke, aching in my chest like a punch in the gut. Because there was nothing I could do to help him.

"Way to start the day off, you dumbass," I scolded myself, rubbing my eyes as they began to sting.

Groaning from the tension making my muscles ache, I drug myself from the depressing bed and shuffled to the bathroom. I let the hot water scald down my skin, soothing the residual stiffness and making it melt away. If only it was so easy to cure every pain that way…

●●●●

An hour later, I found myself on the back deck with a dagger strapped to my hip, a cup of coffee in my hand, and the laptop balanced on my thighs. The now familiar weight of my katana rested against my knees, ready for use at a moments notice while my free hand slid over the keyboard with practiced ease. The early morning sky was just starting to light up, shades of pinks and orange slowly bleeding life into the world once more.

It should have been peaceful and in a way it was, but my mind wasn't calm and the chill from the night still lingered in the air which made it hard to relax. But I lost myself for a while in the mindless cataloguing of information, sifting through all the files one by one and creating a timeline of events. After a while I became aware that I was no longer by myself and looked up to find August leaning against the deck railing. He didn't look at me, his profile turned away as he gazed towards the garden and beyond.

I contemplated on whether or not I should verbally acknowledge his presence but after a moment I decided to leave him be. If there was something he wanted to say he would, otherwise it was like talking to a brick wall. Honestly I wasn't surprised Robbie got as irritated as he did with the man at times. Focusing back on my task, my coffee gone without me even realizing it, I plugged a small flash drive into the laptop and began to painstakingly transfer the data. 

After multiple attempts at discovering the sender, much to my dismay, it had vanished like the user had been destroyed somehow. I wasn't sure how that was possible or if I was just looking at it wrong, but it left an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. Nothing about this felt right and I couldn't figure out why… 

"Did Michael tell you anything else last night?" August finally spoke just as I pulled the flash drive out of the port.

I looked up at him, choosing my words carefully because I knew he wasn't Michael's biggest fan but not everything I had realized last night was relevant. 

"Not really," I answered slowly, looking back at the screen. "Just that Torch, or Raziel whatever his name is, doesn't want to kill us."

August hummed in response and didn't appear to be surprised by the knowledge. We were still missing pieces to the puzzle but we were definitely getting closer than we were before. If there was more that Michael hadn't told us, which there probably was, I believed it was for good reason. Deciding not to mention that to August, I changed the subject.

"I'm going to trash the hard drive on this," I told him, indicating the device in my lap. "Whoever sent the data files found us somehow and it's better to cover all the tracks than risk leaving behind trails."

August nodded but didn't say anything and I fought the urge to roll my eyes. I had no idea what Nevada saw in him beyond the obvious physical attractiveness. He was like a big bear just not the cuddly kind, all silent and broody.

"Definitely not Winnie the Pooh," I muttered under my breath, typing in the command to hard wipe the drive. I felt his eyes on me as I hit enter, a grin spreading across my face as I looked up. "Nope, Death Bear."

"I think there's something wrong with your head," August informed me with a flat look, obviously missing out on my inner monologue. 

I laughed, watching the command window go through its process. "Of course there is. The gods did decide I was the perfect match for a man named Hatter, which he didn't earn by his choice in headwear."

"Truth," he agreed with a nod. "However, you're the one mumbling about a children's book about a boy with psychological issues. Also for future reference, I prefer to compare myself with Yogi Bear."

I snorted in surprise, flicking my wide eyed gaze towards him.

"Did August Maines just crack a joke?" I asked dramatically, pressing a hand to my chest. Looking towards the brightening sky, I said, "Oh gods, the world really is going to end!"

August rolled his eyes while I cackled with laughter, the laptop nearly crashing to the deck in my fit. Robbie suddenly dropped to the ground in a crouch, most likely overhearing us from the tower above, and looked between the two of us.

"Well, this is new," he commented as he climbed the steps up to the deck. 

"August made a joke," I explained, forcing my ridiculous reaction into a chuckle, "but after he called me crazy."

"I did not call you crazy," August corrected.

I waved my hand dismissively as the laptop shut down and began to reboot. "Semantics, Yogi."

"Fine, I'll buy him a beanie then," August growled, realizing too late that he would never escape the nickname after this. 

I shot him a glare at the immature threat as Robbie looked between the two of us in bewilderment. "What the hell is happening right now?"

"Get him a trucker hat too while you're at it, Yogi-meister," I shot back in a bored tone, not answering Robbie as I continued to bicker with his maker.

"Christopher Robin is too long so I think I'll just call you Pooh," came August's reply as he made to go back inside the house.

I barked out a laugh and closed the laptop as I called out, "But I'm more of a Tigger fan!"

August shook his head, not bothering to reply or even look back, and I finally turned to face Robbie. The look on his face was of utter confusion and I honestly didn't blame him. It was an odd thing to just come into especially right in the middle.

"What the fuck?" Robbie asked.

I shook my head and began packing up my stuff, goosebumps pimpling my skin from the still chilly morning air. Shrugging, I answered with, "I didn't sleep well and then August poked my weird brain."

"Obviously," Robbie chuckled, following me into the house and watching as I put my stuff on the kitchen table. "Why are you up so early anyway?"

Keeping my back to him, my fingers toyed with the strap on the sheath of my katana, debating on how much to tell him. I knew Robbie would listen and actually hear the words coming out of my mouth if I chose to tell him, but I also knew he didn't really care about Michael's wellbeing. But Robbie did care about me.

"I've known Michael since I was seventeen," I told him quietly, thinking back to that day years ago. "And in the almost six years that I've known him, I've never seen him like this."

"Like what?" Robbie asked, his genuine concern taking me by surprise. 

I turned around, leaning my lower back against the edge of the kitchen table, swallowing down the lump that threatened to form. Meeting his warm amber gaze, I whispered, "Broken."

Sympathy softened his features as he pulled me into his arms and I gladly returned the embrace as I buried my face in the crook of his neck. Robbie's fingers slowly traced my spine through my clothes and I closed my eyes, just breathing him in. 

"He'll be okay, Little Tink," he said softly after a moment, trying to reassure me as he kissed the side of my head. "He just needs time."

"I know, or at least I hope so," I corrected, pulling away enough to look up at his face. "I just wish there was more I could do."

"Babe, you saved his life," Robbie reminded me, gently brushing my hair out my eyes. "What more can you do?"

"I don't know but I hate this."

Michael had been there for me so many times over the years, just being my friend and helping me deal with the bullshit that was my life. He never made me talk when I didn't want to, but he had always listened when I did. But it didn't seem like he wanted to talk about any of it anytime soon, and I honestly wouldn't be surprised if he just took off like everyone around me tended to do.

"You're thinking and worrying over things you can't do anything about, at least not now." Robbie pressed his lips briefly to my forehead. "Focus on what you can do."

Letting out a defeated sigh, I nodded my reluctant agreement and turned back to my things on the table. Doing my best to put all thoughts of Michael's silent suffering to the back of my mind, I slid August's tablet towards me. We needed to be able to organize our findings while also keeping it within easy access. 

"I'm commandeering his tablet for the time being," I told Robbie, sliding my fingers over the screen and attaching the adapter for the drive. "He can put it on my tab if he has a problem with it."

"Something tells me the rich bastard doesn't give a shit." I could hear the eye roll that went along with his statement and a smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. "Use whatever you need and if he has a problem with it then he can deal with me."

It didn't take long to start the transfer, and my mind chose then to begin mulling over all that we had learned and been through over the last few months. I was almost certain there were things we were forgetting or overlooking due to them appearing to be unimportant at the time. But as I was quickly discovering, sometimes the little things mattered the most.

"You're thinking hard again," Robbie observed as he tossed a bag of blood into the microwave. He leaned casually against the countertop as the small appliance came to life. "Care to share?"

My shoulders raised automatically, shrugging half heartedly as I chewed on the tip of my thumb. "Just trying to figure out how it all fits together."

"Ah, well I obviously don't know any more than you do." Robbie offered me a boyish grin. "I'm just the muscle remember? I fight and I fuck, that's about the sum total of my role, babe."

I laughed despite myself which he seemed satisfied with, his smile widening at my reaction. The microwave beeped, signaling its end and he turned away to remove the bag just as August walked in.

"Yeah, because guarding the property obviously isn't one of your specialties," August admonished sarcastically, plucking the blood from Robbie's hands.

"Hey, jackass, that was my breakfast!" Robbie complained loudly even as he moved to retrieve another one. "I have to eat some time."

"All you do is eat," August countered, sipping calmly from the stolen bag.

"What can I say, I'm a growing boy."

August shook his head in mock disgust before looking at me. "Michael needs to be prepared if he's going to stick around."

"So, you're going to let him stay?" I asked, just to clarify for my own sake.

"He's still here, isn't he?" August sighed. "Anyway, if he's going to be here then he's not going to be dead weight. We've got enough of that already."

I swallowed down a laugh at the pointed look that August shot his progeny who had already finished his first bagged blood and had begun to prepare a second. 

"Ooh, better watch it, Yogi," I teased, "if you continue to make jokes I might start to think you have a sense of humor."

"Don't change the subject."

I raised my hands in defense and made a locking motion over my lips. "Please, by all means captain, continue."

August scowled. "As I was saying, the warlock needs to be ready for a quick exit if the time should come, just as the rest of us are. But we also need to make sure his magick and physical abilities are where they need to be."

"He's like a century and a half old, give or take." I ignored the stab in my chest at the reminder of Michael's recent physical injuries. "I'm sure he knows how to use his magick."

"Maybe so," August readily agreed much to my surprise. "But, considering recent circumstances, I think it would be to everyone's greater benefit if we were all ready to fight if need be."

I looked away from the ancient hybrid, distracting myself with disconnecting the USB adapter from the tablet. The transfer had completed and all seemed to have copied over entirely intact. Pushing Michael in any capacity wasn't something I looked forward to at all, not after last night especially. 

"Look Nova, if you or none of us makes sure he's okay to fight, we put him and ourselves at risk," August said calmly as if talking to a child. "Personally and honestly? His well being isn't my concern but if he can't hold up his side of things if or when shit hits the fan, he would be putting Nevada and yourself in danger. That's not something I'll tolerate."

"I second that," Robbie added, working on his third bag.

"So, with that being said," August continued as if Robbie hadn't spoken, "either you can do it, or I will. Your choice, Nova, because he's your friend."

"No, no I'll take care of it," I hastily agreed, unable to stomach the idea of someone like August dealing with Michael in his current fragile state. "It'll be fine."

August regarded me a moment longer as if gauging my sincerity before he finally nodded and left the room without another word. Robbie watched him leave, a reluctant heave of breath leaving his lungs. 

"I guess that's my cue," he said sadly, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to my lips. "I'll check on you soon, Little Tink. Just promise me you'll try not to overthink things?"

"I can't promise that," I answered honestly, "but I'll try."

"That's all I ask." Robbie traced the curve of my mouth with the pad of his thumb before disappearing, leaving me alone with nothing but my thoughts and the scent of his cologne.

●●●●

After gathering my thoughts, I had ventured up to my room in search of more clothes for Michael to wear and a bag to put his things in. Just as I had descended the stairs to find him, I nearly barreled into him as he exited from the kitchen.

"Oh shit, my bad," I quickly apologized, gripping his arm to keep him from toppling over. 

"No worries," Michael said dismissively, straightening his clothes. He eyed the bag in my hand suspiciously. "What's, uh, what's up?"

"Oh, ha, yeah, no this isn't what you think," I stammered, tripping over my words. "No, uh, August wants me to prep you for a sudden escape or whatever. Just in case you know."

"Oh."

"So… uh, I found you some more clothes," I informed him, feeling a bit awkward as I rummaged in the bag.

"Maybe we should… go to my room?" Michael seemed just as uncomfortable as I did or maybe it was just my nervous imagination.

Clamping my mouth shut to keep from rambling anything else stupid, I nodded and followed him down the hall. Once he closed the door behind us, I dumped the items I had gathered up from the bag, scattering them across the bed. Michael stood patiently at the end of the bed, quietly watching me sort through them. I took the opportunity to test his shields and was relieved to find them firmly in place. 

"Alright, so here are the clothes I found, and hopefully they'll fit." I picked up a sheathed dagger and a clip to fasten it to his belt. "We all have to keep at least one weapon on us at all times, better safe than sorry. I know you don't particularly care for weapons but I had this and figured it would be good."

"Where did you get all the clothes?" Michael asked, picking up a black button down shirt and inspecting it. "I thought you only left your apartment with one bag. How big was the bag?"

I laughed. "I made Robbie go back and get all my clothes after we got here. You know me, I have to have my wardrobe. And he ended up getting my clothes from high school too."

"Ah, so hand me downs," he mused with an exaggerated pout, "and completely out of date."

"Yeah," I said sheepishly, scratching my neck. "Sorry about that."

"It's fine. So what else are we doing?"

I explained the idea behind the bug out bag, the essentials he would need along with anything else he deemed important. Michael listened attentively, asking questions periodically and was genuinely interested. When I was done, I attempted to discreetly study him but I failed miserably. 

"What are you looking at? Is there something on my clothes?" Michael looked down at himself with worry.

Sighing, I answered. "How are you doing?"

Michael frowned and turned away, gathering the clothes I had given him and making his way towards the empty dresser. I stood there watching him meticulously refold each garment and place it into its designated drawer, one after the other until there was nothing left. Even after he was finished, Michael kept his back to me as he spoke.

"I told you last night that I would be alright."

"I know but…," I began but trailed off, not looking forward to asking. "How are you… physically?"

The muscles in his shoulders tensed as his whole body visibly stiffened, his back straightening at my inquiring words. 

"I'm better…"

Exhaling a breath, I rubbed my forehead anxiously, wishing I could just get this over with. But I wanted to be careful, had to be.

"And your injuries?"

Michael turned around, lifting his chin to expose the side of his face and neck. I could still see faint lines that were scars left behind, but the wounds were gone. After a moment, he looked down, his fingers clenching tightly onto the hem of his shirt before carefully raising it. My eyes drifted over the smooth skin of his torso and I had to force myself to keep my expression blank. 

His once lean figure, lightly sculpted with toned muscles that had reminded me of a swimmer's was unhealthy thin. The defined muscle had slipped away, leaving behind the waves and curves of his ribs. The deeper wounds that had marred his flesh were now only thin scratches, slightly scabbed but would no doubt leave behind scars as well. It was just more proof that he wasn't ready to go to war, not yet.

"You're healing up pretty well," I commented. Michael relaxed when I didn't mention his frail appearance. Questions about what had happened to him burned in the back of my throat, but I held them in. "Tomorrow, or maybe later today, we'll test your magick and fighting skills. You can train with Nevada and I, join our daily routine. Keeps us all in shape."

"Al-alright, that sounds fun," Michael replied, his voice shaking as he lowered his shirt back into place and stared at the ground. Just as I started to leave his room, his voice stopped me. "Thank you, Nova."

I faced him again, my eyebrows drawn together. "For what?"

"For helping me." He met my eyes again, the different shades swirling like a kaleidoscope with ghosts haunting the depths. "For being my friend even when I'm a shit person and don't deserve it. Just… everything… thank you."

"That's what friends are for," I reassured him with a smile.

Michael nodded and looked down at his feet again, twisting his hands nervously in front of him. Looking at him now, my oversized clothes smothering his much smaller frame, he reminded me of a little kid. One that was lost, scared, and completely alone.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you before," he continued, his voice cracking, "about Raziel being my brother. If I had said something sooner, maybe things would be different. Maybe you and your family wouldn't be in danger now, and maybe Cecile would still be alive. Somehow, I feel like I could have prevented all of this if I had just spoken up sooner."

My heart lodged in my throat and my breath froze in my lungs. I could do nothing but stare at Michael, my jaw working but no sound was coming out.

Cecile was gone and Michael blamed himself for everything that's happened. 

What do you do when all of your once beautiful friends are now broken or dead, only shattered pieces and secrets left to mingle with the tears we've all shed?

********************

A/N: Yes, I FINALLY got this chapter finished! I really am sorry it took me so long to get it done but I struggled with my writing for some reason over the last week.

I think I've just been stressed and mixed the heat it's making it hard to think. Plus there was the issue of not really any free time except bedtime so there's that.

Anyway, hopefully the next chapter will go smoother and I can get it finished and posted much sooner than this. I don't like going this long without updating. Oh and I've started editing Book 1 so wish me luck with that.

I love you guys and thanks so much for your patience and support!❤❤

~SM~