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Due to his abrasive and violent nature, few would ever predict that Andrew Minyard was a mage that specialized in a defensive energy such as ice. From very early into his apprenticeship the young man was far too often irritated by remarks of “I would have assumed you to be called to fire.” His response would always be the same, a chilling stare until the clients grew uncomfortable and tore themselves away to wait for assistance from Betsy elsewhere.
Andrew’s cousin, a healer by calling and by profession, always described the icy stare as if Andrew had the ability to transfer actual chill into one’s soul. He would joke that it was almost as if Andrew was a warlock rather than a mage, bound to a demon of ice, but was always quickly shushed by Andrew’s more cautious and less powerful twin. Being a warlock in this age was taboo, and even a bad joke could raise suspicion in the eyes of the prince’s army. For a small (both in size and age) mage-in-training the idea of being arrested on a joke seemed impossible, but he still understood Aaron’s concern.
Andrew spent his days in the shop, learning about general magic and developing his specialization whenever allowed. At night sleep should have claimed him, but the echo of insecurity and trauma rang in his ears in the dark, keeping him from rest. Various districts in the city came alive at night, and Andrew followed his insomnia to illegal substances and unsavory establishments. When he tired of such wastes he found himself at Nicky’s clinic. There was not much an ice mage could mend better than a healer of his cousin’s caliber, but he could at least assist with numbing pains and tending to burns. Undoing fire curses came easily to him, and he would sit with Nicky and his patients until dawn sobering up as he detangled the threads of spells binding fire and burn.
One murky afternoon Bee told Andrew she was removing him from shop duty, and sent him off to help a friend of hers in the mountains. She insisted he take Aaron and Nicky with him, and to pack for a long trip. “The shop is going through such a slow spell that I really don’t need help around here,” she repeats to Andrew for the third time that day, “David is so busy and I think you can really learn a lot from him.”
Andrew could see that the shop was the busiest it had ever been and considered the fact that she definitely needed him more than ever. However, he didn’t ask why, didn’t thank her for all the years of safety and learning, didn’t even emote at the news and the obvious lie. He simply told her he would be back, packed his few belongings, and went to fetch Nicky and Aaron. It is rare that he needs anything from the two, so when he tells them to come they follow to his nameless mission on Mount Palmetto.
None of them knew then that the prince had invoked mandatory conscription for all mages of age, that that very afternoon his officers would be at Nicky’s clinic and Bee’s shop for young and able mages to fight in the name of his imperialistic hunger. When Andrew learned from the other mages on the run under David Wymack’s care he almost tore back down the mountain on his own to get to her, but even Andrew knew an army had no need for an aging potions master with no background in toxins. Sending him away guaranteed her safety. Others in the camp assured Andrew that Bee had acted for his sake as well, but that only made him angrier. He didn’t need her protection. Despite his detached nature he felt incredibly close to Bee, and the idea of losing her forever to some unfounded need to protect him made Andrew livid.
Andrew did not take well to the others. They were all hurt and lost in their own ways, but Andrew’s pain incited a stronger violence than the others felt, and they quickly distanced themselves from him. The runaways on Palmetto were as distrusting of Andrew as they were varied, with only one of the prince’s own men and a cleric with a dark past paying him any positive attention. Not that he needed it. Certainly not. Who would?
One would think that being on the run from a imperialistic dictatorship and constantly babysitting the anxious mess that is the prince’s former punching bag would make for an annoyingly busy life to live, but Andrew very often found himself incredibly bored and somewhat lost. He had never really wanted much from life, just to get away from the hypothetical demons in his head and the physical ones trying to get into his powers, but anyone would want for something when life was this boring.
Then Wymack found the warlock.
He had been running from the army at the base of the mountain, setting far too many trees on fire in the process. Wymack had taken Kevin and Andrew to hopefully subdue the situation before the army-or the fire-found his runaways. By the time they arrived every single soldier was dead. All that still stood was a small boy, almost as small as Andrew, radiating intense blue fire off every inch of his body. The grass around him had long since turned to ash, as had part of one soldier’s carcass that lay too close. Andrew felt that they should leave, that this boy was dangerous, but before he could take Kevin’s arm and run the mage turned to them.
The first thing Andrew noticed were his eyes. Despite seeming so youthful they burned with so much pain, a feeling to which Andrew could not claim ignorance. Just like the fire around him, they glowed a piercing and unnatural blue. A pile of messy auburn hair sat atop his head, moving with the fire but refusing to burn. The warlock stared for a few moments before his face distorted in fear and he attacked.
One severely injured mage stood no chance against three healthy ones, and they quickly managed to subdue him. Andrew drew the quick scuffle to a close by encasing his arm in ice and hitting the mage in the abdomen as hard as he could. All the fire dimmed around them as he lost consciousness, leaving only the smell of smoke and charred flesh in the dark forest.
Kevin attempted to lift the mage himself, but was immediately burned by his skin. Andrew, the only of the three with a defensive or cooling specialty, moved Kevin out of the way and lifted him instead. Every point where his skin touched the boy’s felt like fire and he wondered if mere contact could burn his forearms off. He conjured a chill spell around his body to protect himself. He wouldn’t swear it but he felt as though under the cooling spell’s energy the mage lost some tension his body held.
As they walked back in silence Andrew took in the features of the mage in his arms. He was small, yet closer inspection of his face seemed to indicate that he was close to Andrew in age. He was, admittedly, quite handsome. Curses lingered on his skin, both in small designs and longer ones following down past where his clothing covered. Other scars joined them, including a large burn that looked almost fresh on his cheekbone. A curse mark laid on the would, one Andrew recognized as a flame curse that it would always continue burning. He wasn’t sure he could unravel it, and definitely couldn’t with hands full of living fire, but he knew Nicky would ask him to try.
He became lost in his thoughts to the point of almost tripping. Wymack raised an eyebrow, and Kevin had to suppress a snort. “What has you so distracted?” Andrew leveled his chilly gaze on Kevin. It didn’t have the same effect on him as it did on strangers, but he felt his point made and he brushed past him with a simple, “Let’s keep moving.”
Unsurprisingly there was pandemonium over the unconscious fire mage in Andrew’s arms when they returned, but Wymack chased all but Nicky and another healer named Abby away. They placed him in their makeshift infirmary(an unfortunate necessity after one too many runaways arrived injured) and were relieved to find that his abnormally high body temperature would not burn through the cot.
Nicky and Abby did the best they could to heal him, but mending magic is difficult without skin on skin contact, and Andrew could not extend his protective chill to the point they could heal unscathed. His face may have depicted a violent past, but the boy’s body portrayed downright abuse. Even Abby, a seasoned healer, gasped at the sight. Nicky asked Andrew if he could undo any of the curses littering his body, but he refused to do so without permission from the mage himself.
When Nicky and Abby had done all they could they wandered off to rest for when he awoke and needed specific healing. Wymack had defensive mages such as Andrew and Matt rotate watch over him “to prevent him from burning the whole damn place down” upon waking.
Andrew would have preferred to not be there when he awoke, but bad luck found him and Kevin there when blue flames erupted as the unnamed mage awoke with a start. His eyes burned as the fears from his dreams carried over into his consciousness. Andrew recognized that feeling all too well, but so did all the runaways he lived with. This boy was no different from the hurt and darkness they all came from.
His chest heaved as he attempted to calm his breathing, but his flames only grew. Andrew lowered the temperature to freezing as he put his hand on the mage’s neck to transfer a chill and hopefully lower his body temperature. It seemed to work, and the mage softened for a second in apparent relief before actually looking at Andrew and lashing out in fear. Andrew merely swatted his hand away and hit his head, knocking him unconscious.
Kevin stared at Andrew as he let go of the boy and laid him properly on the bed again, jaw hanging open. “What the fuck did you just do?”
Andrew didn’t even spare Kevin a glance as he let the room creep back into warmer temperatures and took back his spot on a cot. “I handled it.”
The next time he awoke Matt was there instead.
Andrew didn’t know all the details, because he didn’t really care, but he made sure Kevin was nowhere near the infirmary if he wasn’t. He knew this mage was bad news, and was not willing to let him put Kevin in danger for something as stupid as curiosity. Anything he needed to know Nicky would gossip about eventually. And he did. The mage apparently refused to talk, but eventually accepted food and water. He didn’t catch fire anymore but shied away from any form of touch, even healing from Nicky or Abby. In fact, the only one able to handle him so far was Wymack. Having experience with his type or whatever. There was also some rambling about how under the scars and curse marks he was really cute, but Andrew stopped listening.
A week or so in it seemed that Wymack had been able to gather that yes, he was running and no, he had nowhere to go. So the sap he is, he gave him a place. Aaron was furious. “That’s a warlock, you all understand that? Only a warlock could summon fire like that. Aiding a warlock is high treason!” Andrew wouldn’t say it out loud, but he agreed with his brother for once.
But Wymack wouldn’t listen. “I distinctly remember running from the military is also treason, so you’re fucked no matter what.” Aaron didn’t argue further, but it was very clear that he was incredibly uncomfortable with the mage’s presence. The others were cautious, but more open minded than the Minyard twins with letting him stay.
The warlock still avoided communicating with anyone else if he could, and only showed any semblance of relaxation when he was with Matt. You could see his lost eyes, grayer when not consumed by magic, light up from across the room if Matt asked him to eat together. Disgusting.
It went well. For one day. On the second day after the warlock had left the infirmary Matt asked for his name, startling him into dropping his food. The temperature of the room increased unnaturally quickly and the room went still. Andrew watched without interest. The seconds passed slow and tense, until Renee finally said, “He is scared to say it, but he would like you to call him Neil.”
The mage-Neil-whipped around and stared at her, tense and fearful. Andrew thought for a second he might attack, but trusted Renee to handle it on her own. She was unfazed by Neil’s defensive anger and gave him a small smile. “I can’t read your thoughts, just your feelings. Your secrets are safe.”
Neil did not move or relax. Matt snapped out of his confusion and attempted to bring the conversation back to an amiable one. “So, Neil then?” He smiled at Neil.
The room cooled a bit as Neil gave a jerky nod. He stared at his hands for a long time, long enough for some to go back to eating, before he finally spoke. “I am...sorry.”
Neil’s voice carried gently, and his enunciation was clearer than that of an average person. Andrew could hear immediately that this mage had ties to the nobility. Matt’s faced softened, and his weak spot for Neil despite only knowing him a week was sickening. “You don’t have to apologize, Neil. We understand.”
Andrew hated the very sight of Neil. He hated how obviously shady he was. He hated how everyone fawned over him like some lost puppy and not a real danger. He especially hated how he wouldn’t realize he was staring until Neil had already caught him and stared back. Nothing could make Andrew seethe as much as the defiant way Neil held his gaze, as if daring him to keep channeling his ice towards him.
Most of the mages hated Andrew, and most of them were protective of Neil. Their paths rarely crossed, something Andrew was grateful for. He didn’t trust Neil, and he most certainly did not want him anywhere near Kevin. With Andrew’s luck he should have assumed that Kevin would develop some strange obsession with Neil. They weren’t close per se, but the two developed an understanding that irritated Andrew to no end. How was he supposed to keep Kevin safe if Kevin’s new favorite thing to do was practice magic with the biggest threat around?
The only solace Andrew took was in the fact that Neil seemed just as averse to being around him as well. He took advantage to be as brusque and irritatingly cold as he could. Andrew always took his own sort of small joy in being difficult. This was amplified by making Neil’s face twist in frustration. He wouldn’t admit it but Neil’s annoyed face kicked up something in him that made his anger at Neil’s presence almost worth it.
They continued on like this, Neil lying and hiding and bothering Andrew with his penchant for lying and hiding. Andrew watching Neil like a hawk and trying to make up for Neil’s annoyance by returning it twofold. Nicky wished it would end, constantly complained to Aaron that he wished everyone could just get along, but Andrew just ignored him.
Things did not change for weeks, not until Neil’s secrets began to put too harsh a burden on him. Often he would wake in flames, trying to protect himself from the threat lurking in his dreams. Once he genuinely set a room on fire. Matt slept nearby, his stone less likely to burn and easier to reach Neil to calm him, but anyone could see the toll it took on the two.
Andrew would have predicted a hundred scenarios to occur before expecting Neil to approach him, but the fire warlock was always full of surprises. Andrew hated surprises.
The majority of their conversation was, well, not a conversation. Neil sat far enough away from Andrew that he couldn’t reach him, but close enough he couldn’t ignore him. Even with the distance Andrew could feel Neil’s intense body temperature radiating off him. Neil was visibly tense, but he did not take his eyes off Andrew. Andrew stared back, chilly hazel battling with fiery blue, frustrated that Neil never seemed to fall to his chill.
After minutes that felt like ages Neil finally spoke. “You are an ice mage.”
If Andrew was surprised (he was) he refused to show it. “An astute observation.”
Neil huffed and, dear god, Andrew wanted to wring his neck. Why was he that way? Who cursed Andrew to deal with someone like this? “Nicky says you can dispel fire curses.”
Andrew let his eyes wander, growing bored with the conversation and certainly not trying to avoid looking at Neil’s intense eyes. He gave a dismissive wave. “Nicky says a lot of things, doesn’t he?”
Suddenly Neil was closer, was in Andrew’s space, and Andrew felt like he was on fire. In Neil’s eyes Andrew could identify a glimmer of triumph and he cursed himself for losing his composure. Neil stared at Andrew for a few moments before speaking again. “I am serious about this. Are you able to or not?”
Andrew refused to back down from Neil and leaned in closer to him. “It is not a matter of whether or not I can Neil. Rather, what I can get in return.”
Neil wrinkled his nose and Andrew was the angriest he had been in weeks. “What do you want?”
Andrew casually rested his head in one hand, his elbow on the table. “You see, I want nothing. So there is no point in asking.”
Neil gaped at him, and Andrew thanked whatever fucked up deity that cursed him to ever be near Neil that he finally shut up. He pushed himself up to leave, but Neil’s head snapped up and he blurted out, “Anything. You can have anything.”
Andrew cocked his head to the side. “Anything? That’s quite a lot, Neil.” He pretended to ponder for a second, and considered saying no just to see Neil’s reaction, but decided he was too tired of looking at the warlock. “I’ll redeem my anything later, but fine.”
-
It took longer for Neil to deal with which curses to dispel than for Andrew to actually dispel them. He refused to take off his clothing in front of anyone, and certainly wouldn’t in front of Andrew. He almost considered telling Neil that he had already seen the scars, even if it wasn’t his choice, but stood silently as Neil fretted over the curses littering his body. He seemed to stress over picking “too many.” Despite what he had said Andrew would have dispelled them all for nothing, if it wasn’t for his love of being difficult. He had even been willing to do them all for one favor, but if Neil was going to offer up more than that he wouldn’t complain.
Eventually Neil took a deep breath and gestured to his arms, “I need these gone. And also,” He pointed to his cheekbone, “this one too. Please.”
Andrew glared at Neil. “I hate that word. Don’t use it. Sit down.”
Neil sat, and Andrew stared at him for a few moments. “You are okay with leaving the rest.” Neil looked away, the first time he refused to meet Andrew’s eyes, and nodded slightly. “Some...some can’t go anyway. I can handle the rest. It’s fine.”
It most certainly was not fine, anyone could see that, but Andrew didn’t care. Taking care of some lost sad warlock was not his job, and he wasn’t looking to make it be. He sat next to Neil and took one of his arms. It was one curse, starting from his shoulder and snaking down to circle his forearm and wrist. From there it split into five and curled around every individual finger. How he was able to use his hands at all was a wonder.
Even though the marks on either arm were intricate and large, they were also largely surface level. Andrew was able to dispel them fairly quickly, having them both done in less than an hour. Occasionally Neil would wince or hiss, but the removal was overall fairly easy. When he had finished all that remained was the faded marks, almost appearing like old tattoos.
The cheek curse was a different story. Neil knew it would be worse, evident by the death grip he had on the seat of his stool. Whereas most curses take the form of messy tangles of energy, this one contained deliberate and complicated knots. It had been placed with care and malice, put there to stay and to hurt . Even slight tugs made Neil inhale sharply from the pain, and it took Andrew hours just to release the knots. Andrew did not realize exactly how deep it had been wedged into Neil’s being until he pulled from the source. The curse left Neil, but not without an ear-piercing scream. Neil’s eyes squeezed shut from pain, and didn’t open again. He had lost consciousness.
Judging by the look in Matt’s eyes when he dashed in he probably would have attempted to kill Andrew before asking questions. Yet Kevin and Wymack had been closer and grasped the situation first, and Andrew strode from the infirmary just as Matt arrived with an angry, “What have you done?” Andrew didn’t spare Matt even a glance as he left. “Torturing your pet warlock has me bored. Get him some water or something.”
That night Andrew tried not to think about how Neil’s skin didn’t burn as he laid him on the infirmary bed. He tried not to think about the way Neil chose to trust him despite all the reasons he gave him not to. Sleeping always came difficult to Andrew, but Neil’s hisses in pain and the sounds of his scream blared in his ears until dawn.
That morning Neil found him sitting in the grass a while out from the cabin where they all lived, freezing drops of dew and throwing them at tree trunks. He crouched down next to Andrew and Andrew cursed him mentally for being so fucking close. Neil watched the droplets hit and shatter and Andrew refused to acknowledge his presence. It felt like hours. Eventually Neil broke the silence. “So…this ‘anything.’”
Andrew did not look at Neil as he pulled a blade of grass from the ground. He stared at it for a while before he froze it, then snapped it into cold flakes of green. “Why do you speak like a noble?”
He could feel Neil tense even though they were not even touching, but Andrew still refused to turn toward him. “My mother was born into nobility abroad. She came here when she married my father. I suppose I speak as she had.”
It didn’t seem to be a total lie, but it definitely was not the entire truth, either. Whether Andrew was satisfied or dissatisfied with the answer he didn’t show. Nor did he react to the casual admission that Neil’s mother was dead. Neil seemed to grow antsy at the silence. “So all three will be questions, then?”
“Questions...Will you tell full truths for the next two?” Neil was visibly surprised. He nodded, then realized Andrew wasn’t looking at him (although he was, out of the corner of his eye he watched Neil like a hawk) and murmured out a quiet, “Yes.”
Andrew pondered for a second. Neil obviously wanted to end it with questions rather than owe Andrew, so why should he entertain him? On the other hand, this could be opportunity to find out more about the potential threats Neil posed. “The person who you are running from is the one who gave you those curses.” It wasn’t a question, and Neil didn’t deny it. “Who is it?”
It didn’t take a genius to see that this question brought Neil a great deal of discomfort. He pulled his legs to his chest and rested his chin on his knees. “My father.”
He didn’t elaborate, and Andrew didn’t ask him to. He almost considered it, but there was something else nagging at his mind. Something that had been for weeks. “Why don’t you shiver away from my eyes?”
Of the questions that he had been asked this one definitely seemed to surprise Neil the most. His head snapped to Andrew, looking at him for the first time since sitting down. Andrew slowly turned his head, his eyes meeting Neil’s. Neil was visibly at a loss for words, and he seemed to struggle before his thoughts slowly came out.
“It...It’s always so unbearably hot.” Andrew knew he didn’t mean his eyes, but Neil gestured to his own arms for emphasis anyway. “Your eyes-When you look at me. It doesn’t feel so hot anymore.”
He stared into Andrew’s eyes, and the look on his face made Andrew want to kill someone. He kept his fists clenched in the grass, his teeth grinding against each other almost painfully. The harder he glared the softer Neil’s face seemed to look. Andrew wanted to punch a tree right out of the earth.
Eventually Neil smiled and tilted his head, resting his cheek on his knee. “You are not so bad a person as you pretend to be, Andrew.”
If Andrew had been a fire mage he would have burst into flames on the spot. He stood up and stormed back into the cabin the runaways all shared, slamming the door shut. Suddenly, after being around Neil, he felt incredibly tired and his face unbearably hot. In his bed sleep took him with unusual ease.
Now that Neil had perceived a change in his and Andrew’s relationship he took to becoming especially annoying. Kevin and Nicky had long accepted Neil, but his increased presence around them all was especially unsettling to Aaron. Andrew was downright furious. Just a look from Neil, especially ones where he had been smiling, made him burn with anger. It was almost as if Neil’s very presence infected him with his fire.
There was, however, a part of Andrew deep down that stopped screaming whenever Neil was near. It was if an uncomfortable and near incurable buzz found its antidote in a particular warlock called to fire.
Neil didn’t seem averse to Andrew much anymore. In fact, he seemed to find solace in Andrew’s presence more than any of the others. Andrew wasn’t sure what he did to make Neil feel so safe, but he felt like he was drowning in him constantly. During days he’d see Neil often, usually when he was accompanied by Kevin. At nights, when neither could sleep, Neil would find Andrew and they’d sit together in silence. No magic, no words, just two lost boys under the stars hiding from their demons.
It became harder to bother Neil, yet easier to be blunt with him. Purposefully difficult remarks eventually faded into glares and declarations of anger and hatred. Some days he would just storm away after Neil did something especially irritating. Yet it never seemed to phase Neil. He was always there, smiling, burning so bright Andrew thought he would go blind.
One night, in the hour where exhaustion lowers one’s inhibitions and consequences don’t seem to exist, Neil took the chance to be uncharacteristically honest. He stared at his hands, less than a foot from Andrew, and tried to work out his thoughts. “It’s strange. You try to seem so dangerous. But you make me feel so safe.”
Andrew felt stiff. Sick to his stomach. On fire. He didn’t know how he felt but he was certain this is what dying felt like. Neil was killing him. God, if he survived dying he would kill Neil. “You don’t pose a danger to Kevin?”
Neil made a face, as if he was annoyed at the mention of Kevin. “What? I don’t see why I would.” When Andrew didn’t say anything he sighed. “No, I’d never. I swear it.”
Andrew held Neil’s gaze for a long time. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, a lie, a truth, an excuse to keep looking at him. What he really wanted was a valid excuse to admit that despite it all, despite how much he hated Neil, he wanted him safe. “Then I’ll protect you, same as I do him.”
It wasn’t a declaration of friendship, or even tolerance, but Neil’s entire face softened and he smiled at Andrew. He reached out a hand towards Andrew, but stopped immediately at the quick and firm, “Don’t.” Andrew wasn’t sure if he expected him to stop, but the fact he did immediately didn’t go unnoticed.
Neil let his hand hit the grass, but the softness did not leave his face. He looked at his own hand, then up at Andrew. The smile on Neil’s face made Andrew feel like he would be sick. “Thank you, Andrew.”
Andrew didn’t answer, but it seemed good enough for Neil. He sat content by Andrew’s side until the rays of dawn illuminated his face, his auburn hair becoming fire in the gold of daybreak.
-
The sweet taste of contentment never lasts long. It’s a lesson that Andrew learns far too many times, but never quite sticks enough for him to remember. One that always has to hit him so hard every time that he feels like he can’t breathe.
But Andrew doesn’t think about his foolish complacency as the cabin roars in flames. He doesn’t consider that it could be his fault for not pursuing cautiousness like he wanted to, like Aaron insisted they all should. His only thoughts were consumed with how he needed to find Neil.
At one point Matt and Kevin had been searching with Andrew, but he was too focused on Neil to keep track of them and quickly found himself alone. Aaron had been quick to dismiss the flames as Neils, claimed that he had finally lost it and tried to take them out as he ran, but Andrew knew. He knew these weren’t Neil’s flames. Neil’s fire burned like an anxiety, burned with fear. The fire that burned around Andrew, destroying trees and their home, was filled with malice. The same kind of malice that Andrew felt in Neil’s curses.
Neil wasn’t the one putting people in danger, Neil was the one in danger.
After far too long for Andrew’s liking he finally found Neil in a cave. When Andrew’s steps echoed off the stone Neil’s head whipped around, his eyes wide with fear. It was a look Andrew hadn’t seen since the week they had met, and the sight set him aflame with anger. Neil went to speak, but all that left his mouth was a strangled noise and in a moment Andrew was by his side. Neil moved to reach out but stopped and pulled his hands back to himself immediately.
Even at his lowest points of fear and distress Neil respected Andrew’s space, and it made Andrew’s heart ache. Andrew immediately reached out and took Neil’s face in his hands, forcing their eyes to meet. “Is he here?”
The physical contact seemed to ground Neil a bit, and Andrew saw a bit of the Neil he knew come back into his eyes. He gaped at words for far too long. Andrew’s body was buzzing at a mile a minute. He had to get Neil out of here. He had to find Neil’s father. Find him and kill him. Eventually broken words came out. “We-We have to go. Andrew, we need to run.”
His thumb grazed the scar of Neil’s burn, the one he helped to heal. The one his father left on him. “You are done running. We gave you a place and you will stay here with us.” Neil’s eyes widened, but he didn’t speak. “I promised to keep you safe, and I will.”
Andrew noticed the change in Neil’s demeanor, a lessening of tension. His eyes cooled under Andrew’s gaze, but under his hands Andrew still felt fire and fear. “He will find me again Andrew. He will hurt you. I can’t do that to everyone. I can’t do that to you. I-”
“Neil.” Neil stopped talking, but Andrew didn’t continue. He tried to find the right words, the proper way to tell Neil to stay. “Is he bound to the same demon as you? Is that how he can find you? I’ll break the bond for you.” He wasn’t sure if he could, but he’d rather die trying than let Neil feel this hurt for even another minute.
Neil’s face crumpled in despair, and Andrew knew immediately that he said the wrong thing. He tightened his hold on Neil’s face, emphasizing that he wasn’t ready to let him go. Neil tentatively reached his hands up and took Andrew’s in his own. He lowered their hands into his lap and stared at them. “I’m not a warlock because of a deal with a demon. I have the powers of a warlock because I am the demon .”
-
Andrew’s only regret when fire demon Wesninski bound to the crown died was that he was not the one to kill him himself. Neil stared at the corpse of his father, the father he killed, for a few moments before he was retching. Immediately Andrew was by his side with his hand on Neil’s back. He was not sure if it helped, but he couldn’t bear letting Neil feel alone when this hurt.
When Neil had stopped heaving he pushed himself up onto his knees and stared off into nothing. Andrew couldn’t tell what he was thinking, nor did he ask. Neil was here, he was safe, he was going to be okay, and that was all that mattered. He traced his hand across Neil’s shoulder, down his arm, and took Neil’s hand in his own. Neil squeezed Andrew’s hand like it was all that kept him breathing and Andrew never wanted to let go.
With their location compromised it was necessary to move. Wymack and Kevin dealt with the bodies, and everyone was grateful that all on their side had survived the attack. Abby left to get Betsy. If they were leaving the nearby area, which they planned to, they wanted to bring her with them. Through all the pandemonium Andrew refused to leave Neil’s side. For days no matter what happened he stayed by Neil. He kept close to him during the day, and at night he helped him through his nightmares.
Before they left Neil confided in Andrew that he wanted to remove his remaining curses.
“I know some of them aren’t fire, and some are placed too deep for anyone to remove, but the rest....I trust you.” Andrew knew what Neil had meant, even before he tugged nervously at the hem of his tunic. He was okay with showing Andrew his scars.
Andrew put his hand over Neil’s, stopping him. “I already saw them once.” He tightened his grip as he took Neil’s from his tunic and intertwined their fingers. “The night we met, when Nicky healed you, I saw them.” He looked into Neil’s eyes, expecting hurt or betrayal, but was only met with that damned softness that broke him every time.
Andrew’s heart rate quickened at Neil’s smile. “Thank you for telling me, Andrew. I still trust you.” He moved closer and looked at his hands. Andrew wasn’t sure if he was looking at the faded marks of his old curses, or if he was just trying to avoid Andrew’s eyes. The uncertainty made him feel insecure, a feeling he was not very used to.
“For these curses...I do not have anything to offer you this time.” He looked to Andrew, and Andrew realized that Neil was avoiding his gaze out of insecurity. Neil smiled weakly. “You already know all my secrets now.”
Andrew tightened his hold on Neil’s hand. “I don’t need secrets. Just stay.” Neil was clearly shocked, but in that moment, in the look in Neil’s eyes, Andrew knew he would.
It had been months since Andrew had seen Neil’s scars, but they still looked as horrendous as he remembered. Without the security of the cabin they temporarily retreated to a secluded part of the woods and took one of the tents. Andrew tried to not think of the suggestive remark Nicky had made as they left, but his ears burned every time his mind replayed it.
Neil took off his clothes slowly. Andrew didn’t emote at the scars littering Neil’s body, but gently traced his hands over the curses on his chest. “They hurt.” It wasn’t a question, but Neil answered anyway. “They do, but I’ve been fine.” Andrew glared at Neil’s favorite lie and Neil crumpled under his gaze. “I know that I should stop saying that. It is difficult.”
“What you should stop doing is lying to me.” Neil nodded as he placed his hand over Andrew’s, holding it to his heart. “I will. I want to promise you only the truth.”
It didn’t show on Andrew’s face, but his heart roared at Neil’s words. How anyone could leave so much hurt on a boy so incredibly worth protecting he would never understand. He knew Neil’s father was already dead, but he still wished in that moment that he could kill him all over again. With the hand not occupied by Neil’s he reached up to hold Neil’s face. “Then promise it.”
It took less than a day to dispel the remaining fire curses on Neil’s body, and they were back in the camp with the rest by nightfall. Neil was exhausted, but he walked as though an enormous burden had been lifted from him. He was still hurt and broken, but he seemed brighter without the worry of his father or his curses. Standing by Neil’s side, seeing his smile, Andrew felt his heart swell.
It was a few weeks before everything was prepared, with them all moving occasionally from campsite to campsite, but eventually it became time to leave the mountain and move to a new, safer location. Only hours before their departure Matt realized Neil had gone missing again. It was common in the days after the attack on the cabin, but it still instilled worry so soon before they needed to leave. Andrew found him at the charred remains of what was once their home. Home was not something Andrew cared much about, but Neil seemed to. He walked up to Neil and stood right next to him, staring at the burned wood before them.
Neil’s hand slowly reached out, and he tentatively knocked his pinky together with Andrew’s. Andrew tried not to think about how the contact barely bothered him as he quickly joined their hands together. He felt like Neil had something to say, so he stayed silent. After a few minutes of stifling quiet he muttered, “Wymack says we are leaving.”
Andrew took a step away, but was stopped when Neil tightened his grip on Andrew’s hand and didn’t follow. Andrew turned but didn’t step back toward Neil, their intertwined hands hanging between them. He didn’t speak as he waited for Neil to decide what he wanted to say.
Neil refused to meet Andrew’s eyes, and for a moment Andrew missed the times where Neil would stare at him with defiance during their childish feud. To see Neil broken like this hurt him like nothing else. “Why? You know I have demon blood, why do you want me stay?”
Andrew stepped toward Neil, crowding into his space, and took Neil’s chin in his fingers using his spare hand. He raised Neil’s face, forcing their eyes to meet. “I promised to keep you safe, and I will. Don’t try to out-monster a monster.”
He turned back around, this time tugging on Neil’s hand to get him to move with him. Neil fell into step beside him, and out of the corner of Andrew’s eye he could see Neil smiling to himself. “A monster you say…” His voice was muffled behind the sleeve of his robes as he tried to hide his smile from Andrew, but it was visible on every inch of his face. Andrew felt like he was going to vomit. “A monster and a demon...I guess we make a fairly interesting pair then, do we not?”
Neil looked at Andrew, his smile too bright to handle, and Andrew did the only thing he could think of doing, something he thought about for months. He kissed him.
When Andrew first touched Neil’s skin it felt like fire, like his arms were about to burn off. Touching Neil still felt like fire, but now Andrew didn’t feel pain. He felt like he was melting with a feeling too good to hate and too confusing to name. He felt it with every brush of their skin, every small kiss, every moment Neil was near him.
Andrew didn’t know it was possible to feel this strongly for someone with any emotion that wasn’t anger. With Neil everything felt so different. Neil was soft, he was kind, and he cared about Andrew in a way no one ever had before. Andrew was still becoming accustomed to the idea that someone can be attracted to him and actually care about him, but Neil was never averse to teaching him over over and over. For Andrew life had been boring and sad and cold.
But when he was with Neil, all he felt was warmth.