The God and the Healer - RP

"Really I should be saying "of course I will help you" and "Demons you say?" but before I go any further, you have children?" I ask, astounded. Caius looks insulted, "I just, you never mention anything...."

Caius nodded. “I have many children, grandchildren, and so forth. It is my goal to ensure the survival of my kind.”

He took another sip of whiskey. “You see, many years ago, I was accosted by a demon named Ivan, who assumed he could use me for my abilities. He made it his mission to test me in the hopes that I would acquiesce to his demands. He wreaked havoc, did things most foul, and each dimension I asked refused to step in. Demons were not creatures they wished to meddle with. I grew tired of the violence, and so I cast him into a hell dimension. It took a lot out of me, to be quite honest with you. Opening a dimension long enough to send someone through is a feat not easily accomplished.”

Lochlan nodded, following along, and so Caius continued. “This demon happens to have a brother by the name of Viktor. I’d been able to skirt him for some time, but now that Marcus has been exposed, Victor is using him as a way to draw me out. He wants me to release his brother from hell. As much as I care for young Marcus, I have no intention of setting such evil free again.”

He scooted toward the end of his chair, then pointed at a notepad and pen resting on the table. “May I, General?”

When Lochlan slid the paper closer, Caius carefully drew a map to where Marcus was located, as well as the surrounding dimensions. “During certain celestial events, as you’re aware, the walls to certain poorly guarded dimensions can develop cracks in the foundation. Not for long before they’re repaired, naturally, but enough for a few to escape. Imagine, if you will, several centuries’ worth of demons escaping slowly, one by one. They’ve amassed quite their own army, and they’ve been discreet until now. I am sure Viktor has appointed himself the leader. If I do not act quickly, he will track down more of my children. He’ll not stop until his brother walks among us.”

Caius took a deep breath and handed the paper back to Lochlan, an apology in his eyes. “It is dangerous, this quest,” he said quietly. “I would hold nothing against you, should you rescind your agreement. The hellhounds standing guard are nearly as worrisome as the demons themselves.”

I take the notepad and look it over, I sit back and think about this situation. Normally, I would say no. I do not like using my soldiers for anything if it doesn't benefit me in some way, true reason not going to lie.

This was Caius though, he has done many things for my family over the years and Cora's. I nod, "I also know Cora is the best person for this task, I know she will be able to get him out and spare no one." I say, with a look of determination. I usually fight Cora going but she's powerful, I don't want to mess around with this kids life, it's her who should go.

I call for someone to find my wife, she finally comes in. She sits next to me, Caius and I fill her in on the situation. I look at her, "I want you to go, with help from Mary and Luther..."

Me, Mary, and Luther against an army of demons and hellhounds? I know what my husband means, but it doesn’t mean I can’t bust his balls a bit. “Just the three of us, Chief? I mean, I’m glad you have faith in me, but-“

Lochlan’s eye twitches. I grin and fall back, then stand rigid and give him a salute. “Sir, yes, sir.”

I turn to Caius, my gaze softening, and step forward when he stands to hug him. “Don’t worry, Caius. We’ll get Marcus back.”

Caius gives me a sad smile. “Dear, I cannot thank you enough, but I urge you to exercise caution. Demons and hounds come from hell. Your fire will merely agitate them.”

Damn. I’ve been using fire as a crutch lately. I have other abilities, though, so I can’t sit here worried about it. I give him a reassuring smirk in return. “Don’t worry about me. Lochlan’s people know their shit, too.”

Caius nods. “I will come and assist you. I cannot ask for you to fight my battles and merely stand idle.”

I glare at Cora, I will punish her later. I look to Caius, "I know I couldn't stop you if I tried, if it was my kid...I would be doing the same but I advise letting the others go. You are too emotionally invested and you could screw up." Caius looks at me, "I respect your opinion but I am going."

I nod, "I will contact Oscar and devise a plan of attack, I know Cora uses her fire as a crutch but she is it Caius, I know she will get him back." She is a secret weapon, something I have always known.

His faith in me is such a turn-on, it’s unreal. He knows I’m capable. He knows I’m badass. He’s trusting me to go out there and rescue Caius’ son. And the looks of agitation on his face, promising delicious means of punishment for my insolence, are enough to shoot sparks of desire straight to my core.

I’m insatiable and it’s terrible. We’re talking about saving Caius’ kid here, yet I’m fawning over my husband like my best friend isn’t even in the building.

I give Caius a kiss on the cheek, my own face turning red because I know damned well he can read my thoughts, and he chuckles in understanding. “I have nothing but confidence in you, dear Cora, and your husband’s army.” He bows his head toward Lochlan. “Thank you, General. I’ll leave you to it.”

He ducks out of the room to give us time alone. I turn to my husband with a wicked grin. “I feel like one of your soldiers right now,” I croon, stepping closer to his desk. “Is there anything else you need before I’m dismissed... sir?”

I look at her, "I need you to lock the door..." she does so, and soon as she turns around, I have her pinned to it. "Only you 3, of course not...my other soldiers are mere pawns. You" I kiss, "and Mary" I kiss lower and slip my hand underneath her dress, pulling her panties down, "Luther..., shut up, you know what I mean."

I get on to my knees and place my tongue right over her, she grips my hair and I have her cumming hard within minutes, before she fully releases, she is bent over my desk and we make use of our time.

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It has been 3 days of no sleep, Oscar and I are in my office. We are joined by Cora, Mary, Luther and Caius on the 3rd day. We go over the plan with them, I instruct them what to do. I look at Cora, nervous she is going but I know she will do the job, her devotion to other people is actually my main reason. She won't stop until she gets Marcus back.

"Before you go..."I give her a box, in front of everyone and she opens it. It's a soldier uniform.

I look down at the sleek, all-black uniform, then back up at my husband with the biggest smile on my face. I’d jump him if it weren’t for the audience and the mission we’re on. I settle for a bear hug, my arms wrapping around him and squeezing tightly, my lips pressing against his. “Thank you,” I whisper, pulling back to look into his eyes. This means so much, and I don’t even have to say it. He knows. He smiles at me despite his nervousness. Because I can’t leave without lightening the mood, I salute him again. “I won’t let you down, sir.”

My goofy grin meets his look of exasperation, then I’m hurrying off to change into my outfit. I hear Luther chuckling before I’m even out the door.

Time to kick ass and take names. Hellhounds and demons be damned, I’m seeing this through for Caius. It’s high time I get to repay him for everything he’s done for us.

With my mind on Lochlan and Oscar’s tactics, our every plan in place, I entertain the idea of domesticating a hellhound and keeping it as a pet. Probably unlikely, but how awesome would that be?

I look at her walk off, part of me wants to go but the rules are I never do. I stay put but I worry about Cora, if anything happens to her and I give Caius a look who I know is reading my mind. He shakes my hand and they are all off.

I look to Oscar, who looks back, "Want to get drunk?" I nod, "Abso-fucking-lutely!"

While Luther and Mary gear up for battle, I stand beside Caius, our army at our backs as they wait for their commands.

“You never told me you had kids,” I say, doing my own gearing up with the weapons Lochlan provided. Powers aside, he wanted me on a Rambo level of preparation. I toy with the Bowie in my hand and practice a swing or two. No too shabby.

“Of course, love. Being a warlock is about more than assisting those who need our help. I must make certain that my kind will never face extinction.”

I shrug. “Fair enough. I’d still love to meet them someday.”

Caius looks like he’s holding his breath. With a sigh, he lets it out, then gives me a lopsided smile. “It would prove quite difficult. There are more than a few.”

Luther spins around, his eyes full of mirth. “What’s that, Casanova? How many polite, soft-spoken little warlocks are running around the universe?”

My eyes are wide. “I’m more concerned for the poor mother. I’ve had two and I’m ready to be sterilized.”

Caius chortles. “There are many mothers, just as there are many children.”

Even Mary joins in. “Don’t hold out on us, stud. How many?”

Caius stops to think. Luther laughs at the fact that he had to stop and think. I stare on, incredulous. Finally, he speaks. “Three hundred and forty-six. Children, that is.”

You could hear a pin drop for all of ten seconds before we all lose it. Luther bends down and clutches his chest, too busy wheezing to speak.

“And that’s not to mention grandkids and the like?” Mary asks, her brows shooting upward in surprise.

Caius looks a little bashful, not smug in the slightest despite Luther’s looks of pride. “Naturally, no, madam. My children have done well to meet other warlocks and carry on the bloodline as I have done.”

I’m trying to hold it in. Because I respect Caius and because I love him, I’m trying, but Jesus H. Christ. Finally, I let out a snort of my own, followed by a stream of giggles. “I don’t think you have to worry about extinction, hon. Chafing, maybe, but not extinction.”

Luther is howling again. Mary has her hand on his shoulder, trying to rein her father in. Within minutes, we’re ready, our army at our heels. Humor has left the building.

I reach for Caius’ hand and intertwine his fingers with mine, then give him my best smile. “Time to fuck shit up.”

And then we’re off.

---

Per Lochlan’s instructions, we arrive at the sidelines, staring in through the hazy, window-like veil that separates this dimension from the next. The landscape before us is not some desolate wasteland. There are no battlefields or crumbled buildings to be seen. In fact, if you don’t count the threat of demons and hellhounds, it could be considered its own paradise. How it’s remained empty and open for the taking is beyond me. When I look out through the barrier, I see picturesque mountains and hills. I see a lake, and caves, and valleys teeming with tall grasses and colorful flowers. I’d been expecting something more... hellish.

Just as I lean forward to get a closer look, something huge, black and shiny brushes against the veil. It undulates from the contact, projecting our reflections back at us, the images distorting and shifting before our eyes. I swallow hard and look at Caius. “Please tell me that wasn’t a hellhound.”

Caius looks regretful. Luther simply whistles beside me.

“That tall thing that was thicker than a tree trunk?” Mary asks, a tinge of awe in her voice. “No, sweetie, that was its fucking leg.”

Luther claps his hands together. This crazy motherfucker is always up for a challenge. He gives me a grin that reeks of testosterone-fueled confidence, then nudges me in the side with his elbow. “Surely my fire god here isn’t quaking in her boots over some dogs?”

“Pssshht.” Because I’m twelve. “Not likely, sir.”

Another big-ass leg brushes against the veil. We won’t be visible to them until we cross the divide, so there’s no reason to worry yet. Luther separates our army into groups of six, then sends them to canvas the surroundings and report back. Moments later, they return to give Luther their findings. “Most demons are residing in the cave on the northwest corner. The kid’s likely in there.”

“And the hounds?”

“Eight, sir. Given that two are larger than the rest, there’s reason to believe they’re the mother and father of the litter.”

Parents? Hellhound parents?

“They’ll be the main concern, then,” Mary murmurs.

Yeah, no shit.

“Just gonna go ahead and ask,” I say to the soldier who addressed Luther, my finger tapping the veil. “Were these baby tree trunks or mama tree trunks?”

The soldier bows his head in acknowledgement. “Baby trunks, ma’am.”

I sigh. “Of course they were.” I have to keep up the morale here. If we have to take on these behemoths, I can’t go instilling fear in anyone’s minds. I have to be as confident, if not even more so, than anyone else here. I give my shoulders a shake and bounce up and down on my heels, then make sure my hair is tied up nicely. “Let’s do this thing. On your mark?”

Caius doesn’t wait. “I’ll set up a distraction like we discussed. We can surely breach the cave before they break from my control.”

He disappears before anyone can tell him to wait for the count. With a nod, Luther tells us to brace for the jog of our lives. In a split second, we’re through the veil, the cave in sight.

Caius can manipulate what people see. On humans, it’s as easy as snapping your fingers. On gods, it’s trickier. On dogs and demons straight from a hell dimension? It takes more strength than he should use. I wasn’t aware, however, that Caius could hover. While we rush past the hounds, everyone’s sights set on the cave before us, Caius levitates in the air, the ends of his pea coat flowing around his legs as he concentrates all his power on the task before him.

The hellhounds, more gargantuan than I’d ever imagined, remain peaceful but vigilant. It’s as if Caius is playing a video of an empty dimension on a loop before their eyes. To them, there is no disturbance. To them, everything is as it should be.

It’s hard to miss the sapphire-red, glowing eyes, though, nor the stench of death and rot that surrounds them. I’d heard bloodhounds had a pungent smell about them, but this is just rank. Mounds of thick, stringy drool swing from their open jowls, each individual tooth about the size of a fully grown person, their tips curved and razor-sharp. They tower over the tallest of trees around them, and that’s when they’re simply sitting, lazily soaking in the rays.

Sweat breaks out on Caius’ forehead, and that’s when I know to skedaddle. I approach the cave with the rest of our army, Luther and Mary at my side. We share a look, and that’s enough. We’re ready.

Caius told me yesterday that demons were once people, once gods or humans or whichever they had been at one point in time, before being cast into the hell dimension. Now, they’re looming black masses, their limbs long and thin, and there are no whites in their irises to break up the darkness. There’s only black. Their skin shines, looking leathery and stretched tight over their bones, and in place of fingers, they have claws. Claws that drag along the ground, stirring up dust and pebbles as they approach, their backs hunched over, their black eyes hungry.

Before I can blink, they’re on us, moving faster than lightning. I send forth a burst of energy, then plaster them to the walls of the cave, watching as our army rushes forth to decapitate them. When I feel hot, heavy breath at the back of my neck, I unsheathe my sword and spin, burying the sharpened steel into the throat of the nearest demon. More come forward, hordes of them, hissing as they attack. I force them back time and time again, pushing them back against the cave walls and letting the army do their work.

I do all I can, but we lose a few soldiers in the process. I can only do so much. I force them back and stab simultaneously, breaking bones and rendering the demons temporarily useless, but fire does nothing. Fire is my go-to, but they come from a dimension with an endless supply of that particular element. It merely reminds them of why they escaped in the first place.

The soldiers we lose are some of our newest recruits. Some pause, either in a panic or because they’ve gotten in a few good kills and simply wish to take it all in, and they pay dearly for it. Demons turn on them like the crack of a whip, their talons slashing throats and bellies, innards tumbling to the floor with ease, the cave filling with the sounds of their screams.

I can’t dwell on the losses. More soldiers arrive to combat the swell of enemies, and after what feels like an eternity later, we fight our way further into the cave, listening to the battle raging behind us. We slaughter whatever emerges from the darkness, Luther and Mary at my back, swords at the ready. When we’ve reached the end of the cave, we see a man who looks no older than twenty, his body bruised, beaten and cut, chains wrapped around his figure. There’s no denying that this is Caius’ son. His complexion is lighter, his body smaller, but there’s no mistaking the eyes. It’s Marcus.

While Mary stands guard, Luther stoops to release the kid from his chains. Before he can, the loudest, most demonic growl sounds out through the entire dimension, rattling the foundation beneath us. Marcus’ eyes shoot open, absolute dread on his face. “Hellhounds,” he whispers, wiggling against his restraints, uncaring about the futility of his endeavors. “You gotta get me out of here!”

Interesting way to say thanks, but whatever. Mary turns back to us. “Guys, Caius can’t hold it much longer. Father, you need to teleport Marcus back home.”

Marcus shoots up, his eyes wide. “You think I wouldn’t teleport if I could? I tried that! They’ve got this place spelled!”

My heart drops. Luther pauses, and for the first time since I’ve met him, he looks nervous. “What the hell are you talking about, kid?”

“The barrier!” The kid is practically shouting. “You have to get past the veil! And those pissed off dogs out there? They don’t need to guard the exits. They’re guarding the fucking veil!”

That clear, window-like veil we had to cross to get in here? It wasn’t a barrier, it was a spell. As soon as we breached it, we relinquished the ability to teleport. I have my powers, but we’re stuck here until we get past the hellhounds.

Another loud growl joins the next. Two have broken free from Caius’ influence. I can hear their gnashing teeth, their squeals as the soldiers approach with weapons, as well as the shouts of the soldiers who didn’t make it. For shits and giggles, I focus and think of home. Nothing happens.

Luther looks at me knowingly. “Yeah, I just tried, too.”

“You have to kill the dogs!” Marcus pleads, shaking more and more by the minute. “Your entire army is nothing but puppy chow if you don’t all escape at once.”

We know that’s not possible now. Two are already engaged, and more will follow. Fed up, I turn toward the opening of the cave. “I have to help them. One of you stand guard for Marcus.”

Mary stays behind, hating every second of it, and likely hating Marcus even more for putting us in this conundrum. I can’t say I blame her.

Luther and I run headfirst into the foray, battle cries on our tongues, challenging the hounds to approach. Mangled, limbless bodies scatter the ground, and above them stand two hounds, their fangs dripping with blood. We get to work digging our blades into furry paws, legs, and chests, our army working alongside us. It takes all I have in me to hold them off, to slow their movements enough to strike them.

After a litany of fatal blows, daggers tearing into beastly, muscled flesh, other hounds awaken and head for us. Luther climbs onto the backs of each beast, hopping from one to the next, thrusting his weapons into the necks and heads of each dog before he’s shaken off and sent flying to the ground. I stop him mid-air and let him float down gently when he’s inches from the grass.

Three hounds go, and then the next; my legs barely want to hold me by the time the last remains. The biggest hound of them all, no doubt the father of the fallen family, barrels toward us; each time his paws hit land, the ground quakes. Luther and I stand together, flanked by about two hundred remaining soldiers.

As an army, warriors down to our bones, we attack, slaughtering the last of the hounds. When it falls, so do many of our men, the exhaustion taking hold.

I look back to see Caius descending, and then he, too, falls, his usually sturdy body crumpling in a field of flowers.

I rush toward him, every movement agony. I have enough juice left in me to heal him, and that’s where it ends. He stands with such weariness in his eyes, yet he pulls me to him and holds me tightly. I take solace in his embrace. “He’s okay, Caius. We got him.”

He sighs against me. “I knew nothing of the spell until we had crossed. The barrier must’ve kept us from sensing the magic. If I had known-“

I shake my head. “Nobody could’ve guessed. Everyone did their jobs. Caius, it’s what they do.”

It sounds heartless when I say it out loud, but I’m not sure how to console him. We lost a handful of men, but the majority are still standing. We had known from the start that not everyone would make it home.

“Dangers of the job,” Luther adds, doing his best to brighten Caius’ spirits as he looks over the deceased. “Mostly trainees, looks like. All in all, not a bad headcount.”

He throws me a wink, then motions toward the cave. “Mary’s with the kid. Let’s get a move on.”

Caius looks around. “And Viktor?”

Just then, a shadow forms above us. A demon emerges, making slow steps toward our group. His figure morphs in an instant, his height shrinking, his leathery skin transforming into something far more human. I watch in amazement as the looming black figure turns into a smaller mass of mere flesh and bone. He has dark hair, green eyes, and a sinister smile on his face. Oddly enough, despite the ugliness of the demon he was five seconds ago, he’s now what many would call handsome.

And he’s very naked.

“I feel so popular,” Viktor drawls, his pearly whites gleaming. “Have you come to release Ivan? Surely after all this time, he’s learned his lesson.”

Caius steps in front of me at once, fury in his eyes. “We’ve come to slaughter you. Surely after all this time, you’d have learned not to test me.”

Viktor laughs. “Were that the case, you wouldn’t have needed an army to defeat me.”

Caius narrows his eyes. “Says the coward who smuggled a litter of hounds from Hell to protect himself.”

The demon’s grin merely widens and gets creepier. I want to smack the look off his face. “Touché, my friend. I must simply acquire more then, it seems.”

Caius steps closer, as do I and Luther and the rest of our army.

“Are you not aware that I can bypass my own spells?” Viktor presses on, letting his gaze travel from face to face before settling on Caius’ at last. “I can teleport to another dimension at the drop of a hat, seek out more of my brethren, and kill every last one of your children until you bring me my brother.”

For the first time since arriving here, Caius smiles. It’s deadly. Confident. Deliberate. “Speaking of your brother, send him my regards.”

Before Viktor can respond, the wet sound of a blade slicing through flesh greets us, and Viktor throws his head back with a gasp. We all look down to see a sword protruding from his chest, its edges dripping blood, and behind him stands Mary, the holder of said sword, with Marcus at her side.

Caius rushes forward in an instant and presses his palm to the demon’s forehead. It cripples Viktor, the blade slipping free from his body as he falls.

The ground shakes again, and this time it’s not my or the hounds’ doing. It’s the work of Caius as he rips a hole through the very dimension we’re on. He chants aloud in a language I don’t recognize and gets louder with each word as fire reaches through the hole in the earth, licking at Viktor’s heels. Something grabs him from underneath, pulling and tugging at his body while he writhes and screams, pleading for mercy and clawing at the earth around him.

Caius keeps chanting, his hand on Viktor’s scalp, lowering slowly until the demon is pulled under and then consumed by flowers and weeds again as the foundation patches itself up above him. Within seconds, it looks as if the ground had never been disturbed.

I gape at Caius in wonder. “Sweet baby Jesus, that was epic.”

When he sways, Luther and I rush forward to grab him before he falls. I do my best to heal him, enough so that he can walk without assistance, but he needs a good, long rest before he’s whole again.

As if on cue, we all turn to Marcus, the one who got us into this mess in the first place. He stands tall like it doesn’t affect him, but he’s looking at his father with trepidation. He knows he’s in for a world of trouble.

“Father-“

Caius silences him with a look. “We will discuss this in private. You will first thank the men and women who fought for you, as well as the General himself. Mark my words, child, you are indebted to these gods for as long as you shall live.”

I’m not sure I want Marcus indebted to us, but I don’t want to be the one to say it. Luther and Mary seem to share my sentiment, albeit wordlessly, if our exchanged glances are any indication. Together, we approach the veil and step through. In the next instant, the five of us stand in Lochlan’s office looking a little worse for wear but alive, our clothing drenched in blood and hellhound saliva.

Marcus bows when he sees Lochlan standing behind his desk. For once, he has nothing smartass to say. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles, glancing up at my husband through his lashes.

With a quick twist of Caius’ hand, Marcus howls, then winces. “Father!”

Again, Caius works some fatherly disciplinary magic and Marcus grunts. He looks up at Lochlan, then speaks again. “Thank you, sir. I’m sorry for the trouble I may have-“

Another howl.

“-definitely caused! The trouble I definitely, absolutely caused, sir. I’m so sorry.” He twists back to look at Caius imploringly. “Father, please.”

Caius nods his head toward me, then. “You are not finished, boy.”

I almost feel sorry for Marcus. He’s got a ton of shit to atone for. Brown eyes settle on mine. “I’m sorry, ma’am. Thank you.”

I decide not to correct him. Caius wants to make sure Marcus kisses the asses of every person here, and dammit, I’ll allow it. He moves on from me to Luther, who’s more amused than anything, and lastly, Mary.

“I’m sorry, miss. And thank you.” He looks back at Caius, then Mary again. “Also, damn. You seeing anyone?”

That earns him another jerk of the hand. He falls forward, his forehead resting against the carpeting of Lochlan’s office as his body jerks and trembles. “Worth it,” he murmurs, his voice muffled against the floor.

Caius frowns. “I had hoped your mother would have taught better manners than this, Marcus.”

Marcus raises his head a few inches, enough to cut his father with a glare. “Not that you would know.”

Bad call. This time he screams. Caius lets the pain last for a few seconds, and then he yanks his son up by the collar. My poor friend looks so ashamed, I almost want to give him a hug.

He bows his head toward Lochlan, his grip still firm around Marcus’ shirt. “Thank you, General. I sincerely apologize for the losses suffered here today. And Cora-“

When he looks at me, I shake my head and offer him a smile. “It was my pleasure. We owed you.”

It would not be the last time wife joined the fight, several other times she did. She was my secret weapon, I used to joke about that before when I first met her but she has a thrill for it. She gets to help people and I get the rewards when she returns, she is so turned on that the sex doesn't stop. The last battle was so intense and successful, we added a 3rd child to our clan.

Cora, as thrilled as she was, set up a point to "fix" herself. I sure as hell was not going near anyone.

It had been 10 years, our 3rd child was another boy and named him Liam. The Irish names were popular, and it was coming to close to Niamh's ascention. I adored my daughter, anything she wants, I let her have it.

"Daddy...?" I hear her come into my office while I work, without even looking up I ask what does she want? She tells me money for a new something or other, I am not really listen. Cora said no, I stand up and take my wallet out of my pocket, I hand her the money and she kisses my cheek, walking out.

Cora comes in and saw that, she stresses for me to stop and I remind my wife how Niamh is going to be alone on a dimension in a couple days, cut her some slack.

The dimension I have chosen, it's very much so isolated and the perfect spot for it to take place. This Saturday.

Niamh:


Cillian:


Connor:


Saturday comes, and I’m a nervous wreck. I feed Liam and Cillian, wander around aimlessly, and tidy up despite the presence of maids who’d gladly do it for me. Lochlan has taken Niamh to a dimension that’s empty, one that’s surrounded by nothing for endless miles. I still worry. She’s our daughter, and we should be there. Instead, Lochlan returns moments later, flustered and quiet. Will it hurt? Will she suffer? How long will it last?

While people on earth gather to watch the total solar eclipse going on above them, I dread the moment the moon will pass between the sun and the earth and bathe everything in darkness.

That’s when my daughter’s shift will happen. That’s when cracks will occur in the surrounding dimensions, and in turn, she’ll absorb every ounce of energy in the atmosphere, every bit of power that’s released, and pull it into herself. My daughter will be the single most powerful being in existence by the time this day is through.

Caius sits with us in the living room as we wait, our hands clasped together, our hearts pounding against our chests.

Caius observes without leaving his seat. He has something of a third eye, which allows him to see into whichever realm he wishes. He’s zeroed in on Niamh as she waits, and our girl, she’s fearless. She welcomes the change, staring into the sky as she sits on her knees, a smile on her face. Caius channels what he’s seeing into our own minds, affording us the comfort of observation from so far away.

And then it happens. Bursts of light envelop our daughter, swathing her in blinding brightness. Thunder claps, flashes of lightning hitting the ground around her, electric pulses feathering along her skin. I jump out of my seat, tears in my eyes, and Lochlan holds me back. We can’t join her. We can only watch and wait.

“She’s all right,” Caius says calmly, his hand resting on my shoulder, but I don’t feel comforted in the least. I’m bawling, desperate to reach her.

Niamh screams into the void, the air black and still, blue-white sparks working over her and seeping into her skin. She jerks back and seizes, her eyes clenched tightly shut, and lets the power overtake her. The energy rushes in from all directions to consume her; she takes it all in with a shout toward the heavens.

This has to hurt. How does she possibly survive this? My sweet girl, my first child, is alone and in pain and I can’t go to her. It takes both Caius and Lochlan to hold me down, whispering reassurances into my ear while the storm rages in our dimension, lights flickering and the foundation trembling. Rain pelts against the windows, then hail mixed with snow, and in the middle of an April afternoon, the temperature drops to below freezing. With each flash of lightning around our daughter, the weather shifts. Houses shake. People run into the streets, confused and shouting, and we say nothing. We simply wait.

After what feels like a lifetime, it stops. The sun is out again, and with the warmth, Niamh rises. She blinks slowly, examines her extremities, and before she’s fully standing, we’re there. We wrap her in our arms, gasping in relief, and she regards us as if we’ve lost it.

“It was nothing,” she tells us, a smile on her face. “I feel fine.”

When she throws her hands up at her sides as if to prove a point, lighting shoots from her fingertips. We duck, eyes wide, and then approach her cautiously. We have our work cut out for us. When she apologizes, I merely cry and hug her harder.

Niamh

Her mother and father had told her to be careful with her powers, but she was so anxious to see just what she could do. She knew she had fire like her mother, and lightning, which she felt earned her a certain kinship with Thor, but what else? Could she control the other elements? Could she manipulate plant life like the girl in Sky High? Could she make tsunamis in the bathtub?

She was getting restless. She felt confined. She played a few tunes on the grand piano in her bedroom, wrote a few passages in her journal, and paced. The last time she’d tested her powers after being told not to, she’d destroyed her bedroom door.

Now she sat without one, thanks to her mother’s insistence that she learn the hard way, but she was fairly certain that her father would have it replaced by the end of the week. All it took were a few smiles and sad eyes and she had him wrapped around her finger.

She stirred when she sensed a disturbance. A new being had arrived on the dimension. As Caius had done during her ascension, she closed her eyes and let her senses travel toward the front gates while her body remained firmly seated on her bed.

The guards at the tower all shouted about a breach, weapons drawn toward a long, dirty lump of a person lying half in and half out of the veil. He had a mop of blond hair, lean but muscular arms, and wore nothing but a pair of tattered shorts. When he stirred, too weak to stand, the soldiers shouted orders for him to stay down.

He was harmless, she decided. And so, she easily teleported so that her body could join the rest of her. The ends of her white and blue sundress flowed delicately around her knees as she knelt to examine him.

He was young, like her, but likely older by a few years. The guards emerged in an instant to flank her, chiding her for approaching the intruder, but she froze them in their places with a wave of her hand.

“What’s your name?”

He looked up at the sound of her voice, deep blue eyes settling on hers, and her heart skipped a beat. He was stunning. And he was hurt. “Connor,” he said, and even his voice was nice. Deep and raspy and soft.

She smiled down at him. “I’m Niamh. You’re in my dimension.”

He looked around in confusion before focusing on her again. “I- I was...” He swallowed hard and sat up, clutching his hands to his chest as if he were cold. “My dimension got destroyed. I was hit by some blast and I fell.”

Niamh’s face fell. “I’m sorry. That may have been my fault.” She stopped to curse herself. She wasn’t supposed to let anyone know. Now she’d just told a stranger. A totally cute stranger, but still. “Do you trust me, Connor?”

He looked taken aback. He scanned her face, his gaze curious, and then cautiously, he nodded. “I guess?”

She reached up and pressed a hand to his cheek. In an instant, he was healed.

That got him up and running. He stood looking bewildered and took in the faces of the guards surrounding him. They were as still as statues, swords at the ready. “Niamh, you said?”

He said my name! She nodded enthusiastically. “Yes?”

He motioned toward the soldiers. “How are they all standing so still?”

As if the thought just occurred to her, she looked around and blushed. “Yeah, sorry. I wanted to get to you before they did.” She waved her hand again and they were back in position, yelling at Connor to identify himself. She turned to the man in charge and sighed. “Nothing happened, Derrick. No one trespassed. You never saw him.”

While Connor looked on, the soldiers turned away as if the past few minutes hadn’t happened. Derrick’s brow furrowed. “Never saw whom, sweetheart?”

Niamh simply smiled and beckoned for Connor to follow. “Come on. You can get cleaned up at my house.”

Connor seemed like he wanted to press her for answers, but he wasn’t quite in the position to do so, so he dropped it.

As they walked, Niamh spoke. “My little brother is at his friend’s house, the baby’s with the nanny, and my parents are off doing army stuff. How old are you, anyway?”

Connor was too busy staring at the mansion before them. “Huh? Oh. Uh... Seventeen.”

Dang it. A four year difference wasn’t much to her, but her parents were a different matter. “I’m thirteen,” she replied, unable to mask the dejection in her tone. “Come on in. I’ll grab you some of my dad’s clothes while you shower. Wait, are you hungry? You have to be starving. I’ll have someone make you something. Debra makes the best sub sandwiches.”

Connor was overwhelmed, but more than that, he was hungry. She let him scarf down bread, meat, and chips, and watched as he polished off two bottles of water while doing so.

Poor thing had nowhere to go, but he was a boy and she was a girl and her father would not be pleased. When he was finished, she took him upstairs and led him to the shower, then handed him a pair of loose sweatpants and a white v-neck from her dad’s end of the closet. He looked at her curiously as they stood outside the bathroom door. “What you said earlier,” he whispered. “What did you mean about it being your fault?”

Niamh shifted her weight from one foot to the other, then offered him a sad smile. “I can explain later. I’m really sorry about that, Connor.”

For the first time since he’d arrived, he smiled. His dimples were enough to make her turn red in response. “Don’t be. I’m finally free.”

Tortured, mysterious, dimpled, and handsome? He was absolutely her type. While he showered, she forced herself to move around and not simply stand there like a stalker. Instead, she tidied up her room, throwing anything possible into the wastebasket in the corner while visions of a shirtless Connor danced through her mind.

When she heard her parents in the foyer, she panicked. The water was still running, and she obviously wasn’t the one using it. She bolted to the bathroom, desperate to keep him hidden, when she saw her father at the top step.

“Daddy!” She was a terrible liar, and given the Healer part of her, she blamed it on her mother. Damned if she wouldn’t try, though. She wanted Connor to stay. “I was just about to shower. That’s why it’s running right now. I forgot something and I ran to get it. I’m sure it’s nice and hot now, though, so-“

There came a squeak from the bathroom behind her. The water turned off. The sound of footsteps and clothing rustling filled the space between them. Niamh frowned and looked up into her father’s eyes. So much for the lie.

Before Lochlan could ask, the door gently opened and out stepped Connor, his hair wet and messy on top of his head, Lochlan’s clothes too big for his frame. When he saw Lochlan, his eyes grew wide. He bowed in an instant, awe and respect in his gaze.

“General,” he breathed, and if Niamh didn’t know any better, she’d say they’d met before.

I look before me at my thirteen year old daughter and this boy behind her, if she could have stayed 4 forever I would have it that way. The boy bowed to me, that is at least something but he looks oddly familiar, "Stand up, boy." I say, gently but firmly. He does so and I look into his eyes, the boy looks back, "If I can speak, you...you saved me, in the prison world. I was a young boy."

I look at him more, I instantly remember him. While serving my time for Cora, I was given instructions to kill a little boy who was no more than 4 years old, I refused to do and spent the next week starving and whipped for it.

"I would like to speak to the boy alone, what was your name? Niamh, you can leave for now"I ask, leaning against the open doorway and I am told Connor.

I nod, look to Niamh who stands still. "Did I stutter?" I ask her, "No but nothing is going to happen, you can trust me." She says to me, I nod laughing "Okay, I can see you just got over out of the shower.."I say, reminding her of the lie she just told me.

She walks off to get my wife I bet.

I step into the room and look at Connor, "I am not going to hurt you, I am surprised to see you here and that you got out....how?"

The boy shuffled from one foot to the other. He still didn’t know how he’d gotten out. If it were truly Niamh’s doing, would her father have known? Was he supposed to keep silent about this? The girl had let him into her home, had fed him and allowed him to get cleaned up. She was too young for him, despite how badly she wished she weren’t. He was just happy to have some food in his stomach and fresh clothes.

He considered what he could and couldn’t say, but he certainly wasn’t going to lie to the General, much less the man who saved his life. “I’m not sure. The electricity went haywire, there was some massive storm, and something blew a hole in the prison dimension. I fell and woke up here.” He swallowed. “Everyone escaped, sir.”

---

Cora

When I see my daughter trudging down the steps toward me, her face the poster for teenage angst, I shrug off my jacket and wait for her to speak.

“Mama, Daddy’s interrogating someone and I only wanted to help him. He fell from his dimension when I shifted and it’s my fault and he has nowhere else to go, so, like, what else was I supposed to do? I tried to hide him from Dad and lied and all, but he’d totally freak out cuz I had a boy over.” Her eyes go wide in desperation. “Mama, we have to let him stay.”

I blink. I look around, then back up the stairs, then back at my daughter. “Security should’ve notified us, Niamh. How’d he get in here?”

Her cheeks flush, and boom, she’s busted. “I sensed him when he got here. They were pointing guns at him and he was so weak! I just convinced them they didn’t see anything.”

“Niamh!” I sigh and collect myself. “Don’t ever do that. He could’ve been dangerous!”

“His name is Connor and he’s really nice, Mom! I’m not an idiot!”

Teenagers. God help me. I walk past her and march up the stairs to see Lochlan talking to a boy who’s too old for my daughter, and who’d better stay in his lane. I throw up my hands in frustration.

“Our daughter mind-whammied the guards,” I say with a huff, and then I turn to the boy, who’s admittedly cute enough to lie and break the rules for. I can understand why Niamh did what she did. She’s my daughter, after all.

Before he can bow, I hold up my hand. “Please don’t. I’m Cora, Niamh’s mother.”

"I am actually doing this a different way, dear...can you please give me a few minutes before you storm in?" I say to Cora, who seems to not hear what I have said, joys of marriage and continues to speak to Connor.

"He got out because of Niamh's ascention. He was in the prison world, with me. We are now all caught up and he has my permission to stay the night." Niamh smiles, I look at her, "Do not ever do that again to the guards, they are here to keep you safe. You in particular oh powerful one..." I inform her.

No punishment? No scolding? I swear, my husband is so soft on her. I point my finger at her and hit her with the raised eyebrow and scary glare that I’m known for. “And no more lying to your father and me. You suck at it. I know, because you get that from me.” I nod my head toward the end of the hallway where her bedroom is. “Go to your room.”

It really irks her that I’m doing this in front of her new friend. She grits her teeth and walks off, and I take the chance to look Connor up and down. He’s polite enough.

I offer him my hand and he completes the shake, a small smile on his lips. I’m dying to know more, but I also don’t want to push it. I know the hell dimension isn’t a picnic. How could a child ever end up there? My heart aches at the thought.

“Sorry about earlier,” I tell him, feeling a little embarrassed at having barged in so suddenly. He shakes his head as if it’s nothing, so I turn to Lochlan. “I’ll let you two catch up, then. Connor, I’d love it if you joined us for dinner.” With that, I kiss my husband on the cheek and wander back downstairs to change.

Connor watches Cora walk off, he then looks to me and I smirk knowing exactly what the kid is thinking. "How old are you now?" He tells me 17, I nod saying that sounds about right. "Well, I will lay out the rule of....do not touch my daughter. We can agree on this rule or I will take back my kindness and kill you like I should have done all those years ago?"

"You have my word, sir." He says to me, suddenly I am almost knocked over as my two boys Cillian and Liam run in. They have heard about a new guest, had to come see. "Boys, you could have waited until dinner to meet our guest..."

"Dad, you are so uncool, this is someone from another dimension! The prison one!" Cillian says, in awe. He doesn't know his old man was placed there, I am offended by the uncool part. "Well, I will then leave you both...to show him where dinner will be in 2 hours."

Cillian nods to his father, no response and I take him to face me and he looks back, scared now. Good. "Use words to acknowledge what I said..." Cillian answers, "Yes, father." I let him go and pat his head, Liam still hugs me as he's younger and more of a joy to be around than the older ones.

I head off into my bedroom, Cora is there and she's taking off the clothes she's travelled in. I go over to take off my watch, she is watching me and I finally say, "She is your daughter, you know this won't be a 1 night stay."

He’s not wrong. I smile back at him and give him an innocent shrug. “I like the boy. We have more than enough rooms.”

Yep. Niamh is definitely my daughter. “By the way, Luther and his girls are joining us for dinner tonight as well. I want to hear all about that last battle; must’ve been epic.”

Nude and with a fresh outfit in hand, I consider having a little fun before we head back to the dining room. I saunter over to my husband, a wicked gleam in my eye, and drop to my knees.

---

Connor loved the house. It seemed to have endless rooms and sources of entertainment. He was mystified by the technology. For a while, he stood transfixed by the television, and then he sat on one incredibly comfortable recliner, only to jump back up in alarm when it began to move and buzz, something behind the leather reaching forward and rippling against his back.

He stumbled backward, away from the furniture, only to step on the plastic playing blocks that the youngest child had left behind. He groaned at the pain shooting through his foot, then stooped to pick up the toys and return them to the basket beside the couch.

When he saw Lochlan in his periphery, he quickly abandoned his task and bowed again. His face red, he rose. “May I speak with you, sir?”

When the General nodded, Connor continued. “I am eternally grateful for what you’ve done for me, General. Truly. But I don’t want to be a bother. I fought in the prison world, sir. I can be useful. I know you have a very capable army. If you’ll allow me, I can serve you. I can earn my place here.”

I take in his suggestion, normally I would jump at the offer. He is young, capable. I know the world he came from and I don't doubt he would be an asset but if any of my children asked, they would know I would instantly deny them. I look at him, "I really admire wanting to earn your stay but for now, simply enjoy...maybe look into other aspects. Becoming one of my soldiers, it's...not something to commit to without viewing other options. Options I am more than willing to sit down with you and go over, this dimension runs on far more than just our battles."

Connor looks disappointed and I go up a little closer, "I did not spare your life, just to see you gamble it.If it is still something you wish to do in a month, I will put you into training...,just reach for more."

I pat his shoulder and walk off, man am I ever soft.

Camila


Lexi


After Lochlan told me what Connor asked of him, I was almost certain my husband would’ve said yes. Surely someone who grew up fighting in a prison dimension would be an asset, but instead, he encouraged the kid to take the safer route.

I lean into Lochlan while the chefs bring out the food, a grin on my face. “My husband, the General. You big old softy.”

Before he has a chance to respond, Luther arrives with his wife and two daughters in tow, anxious to meet our new guest. Connor greets them, painfully polite as always, and tries not to let his gaze linger on any of the females for too long. Luther is a big teddy bear, but I certainly don’t envy the boys who are after his daughters. I’ve seen the man in battle.

While we sit down to eat, Luther asks Connor questions, and though Connor’s time in prison is the elephant in the room, Luther is friendly enough to proceed with caution. “So you want to be a fighter, huh? No doubt, you’ve got the prerequisites.”

Connor nods, but every so often I catch him peeking at Lexi, Luther’s youngest. She stares right back, her brow hitched in amusement. “I do, sir. But I’ll also take the General’s words into consideration.”

I pipe up, then. “We could always use more blacksmiths. Anyone who’s good with their hands, really. Weapons production is a great career choice.”

Luther points at me, then smirks. “Right you are, Cora. And if you wanna see a true warrior, kid, check her out in battle.”

I chuckle. “I’m nothing without the powers. You and Mary lead a hell of an army.”

“Speaking of daughters, Lexi here is training to be a soldier. She’s a real ball buster, this kid.” He nods at Connor. “Tell you what, if you want to fight, you should spar with her. Great practice for the both of you, and it’ll give us a chance to see what you’ve got.”

Connor pales. “Sir?”

Lexi rolls her eyes. “What, because I’m a girl? Chivalry has no place on the battlefield. Maybe you’re better off making swords, love.”

Did Lexi just... out-feminist me? I stare on in shock, mixed with just a little bit of pride. Niamh needs to hang out with these chicks more often.

I look at Luther, not amused "Their is no rush, Connor is only 17 and yes I know we train early but Cora, blacksmith is a wise decision. Of course, none of us can force any decision on you, it's your choice."

Connor nods to me in respect and thanks me, I drink to that "Plus, I know Lexi could kick your ass."

Lexi smiles at me and I wink back.

Camilla speaks up, "If we could get through one dinner...without battle talk between you all, I would be amazed. Tell me Cora, what else have you been up to?"

I know my wife isn't one for pleasntries, she doesn't do the girly talk thing at all and it's fun having to watch her try.

I lean into her ear, "Want this big old softy to rescue you?" Cora nods in desperation, I look to Camilla, "I hear you have hired a new assistant..., Camilla is one of the top doctors who tend to our soldiers." I inform Connor, "Another noble field to look into, something Cora also has training in..."

I smile at Connor. “I was a nurse for years before I met Lochlan. I’d be glad to give you a tour of the dimension, see if anything strikes your fancy.”

Cillian pipes up, then. “Seems like he already has.” When everyone turns to look, he glances between Connor and Lexi with a grin. Connor averts his gaze, his cheeks going red, and poor Niamh looks on, exasperated. I remember being her age and falling for the much older boys, never realizing just how important age differences are when you’re a kid. I still haven’t changed much when it comes to my taste in men. Lochlan is over three centuries older than me, badass, and sexy as hell.

I slap Cillian on the arm. “Manners.”

He sighs. “Sorry, Mama.”

When dinner ends, Luther and the rest gather in the entertainment room while I stand to help the maids bring the dishes back to the kitchen. It grates on my husband’s every nerve, but I like to help. A lot of the servants here are riots when you get them to open up. Gretchen, the oldest of the group, has the wildest stories to tell when we’re alone.

The maids have learned not to argue when I start stacking up plates and wiping off the table. We talk about our kids, our husbands, work, and daily life while we tidy up. Connor emerges and starts to gather up silverware alongside us, and in turn, I give him a smile and a wink. “My husband hates that I help out, but hey. I like to keep busy.”

Connor nods in understanding, ever the quiet type, and gets to work clearing off his end. I leave him to it while I carry a handful of glasses to the kitchen with Gretchen.


Connor

While Connor busied himself, Lexi emerged behind him, crossed her arms, and laughed. “Seems you’re taking up the housewife position,” she quipped, nodding toward the plates in his hands.

Connor set the plates down, then turned to her. He was more tired than annoyed. “Have I done something to upset you?”

She snorted. “Come on, hon. You’re attractive, you’re a prison world gladiator, yet you’re still so meek and quiet. I want to see some bite in you.”

Lexi was a little too brash, too confident, and too young to understand the depths of what he’d gone through. He shook his head, doing his best not to make waves. If it didn’t work out in this dimension, he wasn’t sure where else he could turn. “I don’t want to fight you.”

Lexi rolled her eyes. Again. She seemed fond of the gesture. “You won’t hurt me. I’m a god, you’re a god. We’ll heal. Let’s give these people dinner and a show.”

“Practice with someone else, please.”

Lexi only got angrier. “If I were a man, you’d fight me.”

“I have no reason to fight you. I’ve fought enough innocent people.”

Instead of replying, Lexi attacked. She jumped quickly, then flew through the air to tackle him. Taken by surprise, he fell to the ground, the trainee soldier straddling him. She leered down at him, excitement in her eyes. “Who said I was innocent?”

He grunted and pushed her away, then stood. “I’m not doing this with you. Not in the General’s house.”

Lexi smiled. “Done and done.” Without warning, she grabbed his hand, and the next second, they were outside in the vast, sprawling landscape. There was nothing to damage here.

Connor shook his head. “You know what I meant.”

“And I don’t care. You want to be a nurse or hammer away at steel? That’s just wasted potential, and you know it.”

“I don’t-“

She pounced again. This time, he anticipated the move, and skirted to the side. She came for him again, and again he stepped away. Finally, she balled up her fist and clipped him in the jaw. He didn’t react; he’d had far worse. He also made no move to strike back.

“I don’t want to fight you,” he said again, but she wasn’t listening. She made attempts to hit him and bring him down, but he escaped her nearly every time. A fresh cut on his cheek dripping with blood, he stared at her with genuine fury in his eyes. “I don’t want to fight you.”

Lexi giggled. “Oh, you will. I can see it.”

Again, she struck him. He reached for her hand and held it away from her body, but his anger was evident. She could only push him so far before the fighter inside of him emerged.

“I heard about the prison dimension, Connor. Clearly you can fight your ass off, or you’d be dead by now.”

They had an audience now, but for the moment, no one seemed to be stopping it. Connor adopted the fighter’s stance, his fists ready. “Please don’t make me hurt you, miss. I don’t want to do this. Not with you.”

Again and again she came at him. Then, finally, he snapped. He leapt forward with the grace of an attacking snake, wrapped his fingers around her throat, and then lifted her. His signature move in the prison world would be to keep squeezing until his fingers crushed his victim’s windpipe, to squeeze until his digits tore through blood and flesh and snapped the person’s spine. It drove the people crazy, and sometimes it earned him larger portions when dinner came around.

Instead, he dropped her. She came for him again, struck him in the chest, and he followed up with an uppercut that swept her off her feet. Only seconds after landing on her back, she was up again. She swung her foot out to kick him, but he effortlessly grabbed hold of her leg before she could. He brought it higher until her knee was flat against her chest, then lowered her to the ground, one hand on hers and the other caging her legs against her body. While she squirmed, he gazed down at her, pissed off and snarling. “I said stop.”

I watched on, Lexi stood up and Connor did as well, he walked off. Those who never experienced the prison dimension will never understand and pushing him to fight is not something I like at all. I kindly tell our guests to leave, we are done for the night. Luther looks to be insulted but they do so.

I look at Cora, as we make it back to our house. I say nothing more, knowing she probably thinks I am being weird about this but she knows I too was in that prison dimension, if anyone knows what Connor is going through, it's me.

I don't confront Connor, I let him have his space and I go to my office.

Cora finally walks in and before I say anything, she says "I am not here to argue, but he wants to be a soldier."

"Why do all of you want to fight so badly? It changes you, this kid has known nothing different his entire life. His family was murdered, why is everyone rushing to push him into more of it? He was tortured Cora, he's not a pawn for me to use right now."

That quiets me. Sometimes I forget how brutal it must’ve been. I was never able to wrangle much information out of Lochlan, so it had to have been hell. And for a kid, no less?

My heart hurts to think of having lost your whole family, then being sent to prison as a child. I walk up to Lochlan, then wedge myself between him and the desk. I kneel until our gazes are level, then I reach out and grab his hand. “I’m sorry,” I murmur. “You’re right.”

---

Connor

Connor hasn’t intended to eavesdrop, but Cora had left the door open, and sound travels. He’d only been grabbing a water from the fridge and walking past when he heard Lochlan’s words. It meant the world to him that Lochlan would defend him. He was the only other person there who knew what it was like. Who knew what it meant to be afraid of yourself, because you’d seen the evidence of your own brutality and didn’t want to cross those lines again. He felt like he was always two seconds from snapping. Lexi was right; if she’d been a man, he’d have let his fury loose. For some strange reason, he liked her. Perhaps it was more because he found her insanely attractive than anything, but it wasn’t as if he could act upon it. She saw him as a joke, and he saw her as crass and unthinking. She’d do well to stow the confidence before it got her hurt.

When the Cora walked back to close the door and lower the blinds, he took that as his cue to leave. He’d been shut off from society all his life, but he knew exactly what that moment was leading to.

When he reached the top of the stairs, Niamh and Cillian were waiting for him. They sat him down in front of the television, handed him a controller, and they played games for the rest of the night.

After he’d showered and gotten ready for bed, Cora gently knocked on the door of his bedroom and gave him an apologetic smile when he greeted her. “I’m sorry about this evening, sweetheart. If you’re still interested, I’ll show you around tomorrow. Any station would be lucky to have you.”

He smiled shyly in return and thanked her. Instead of backing away, she stepped forward to embrace him. He stood awkwardly at first, his arms hanging limply by his sides, but he soon hugged her back equally as hard. Affection was foreign to him but he couldn’t say it didn’t feel nice to have someone care. After breaking off to bid him goodnight, she bent to give him a peck on the cheek, and then closed the door softly behind her.