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It's official. The lads are lost. Perhaps, Seán thinks, they'd given the wrong person responsibility over the map.
Daithi is at the front of their little group, leading them through winding country lanes and refusing to let anybody else help. Dan and Brian are following behind, taking turns ribbing him and making sarcastic commentary. It's not often that those two are on the same page, but Daithi's stubbornness has made him an easy target today.
Seán and Kevin have been hanging back, chatting, joking, and mostly ignoring the three gobshites in front. They don't notice when Brian, laughing at one of Dan's quips, trips and stumbles into the other man, who reaches out to steady him.
It's Daithi's shout that draws their attention.
"Oh FUCK!!"
Seán looks up and sees the unmistakable sight of a fusion taking place, and time seems to stop a moment as terrifying memories crash over him. He scrambles to form a plan of action. We can’t reach Daithi, the fusion’s in the way, how are we going to stop it, this space is too open to keep it contained, can Seávin draw its attention away, are we strong enough to fight—
Seán grabs Kevin and is preparing to fuse when the form in front of them settles and stabilizes. Wait…stable?
That’s a person he’s looking at now, not the mess of limbs and fangs and claws that still haunts some of his nightmares. It’s so fundamentally different from what he expected that he feels like he should be looking around for the real fusion.
Dan and Brian’s new fusion (new??? how did this happen??? none of the others had changed like this) looks so normal that he’s almost underwhelming. Only the second pair of arms gives him away as nonhuman. He’s turning them over and examining himself just like any first-time fusion. Seán’s heart is still racing even though the anticipated threat has yet to make an appearance and he feels the hysterical urge to laugh when he notices the obnoxious trench coat the fusion is wearing. He glances over at Kevin and sees the same shocked, nervous expression that can feel on his own face.
The fusion finally looks up at them all, and draws back at the intensity of their stares. He folds his arms defensively and frowns.
“What?” When there’s no immediate response, he scowls deeper and juts out his chin. “I know you fuckers have seen this sort of shit before, don’t act all surprised.”
Seán finds his voice. “Sorry, we just didn’t think…uhhh…what’s your name?” It’s not what he meant to ask, but it’s polite to, and some part of him needs the confirmation that this fusion really is who he seems to be.
The fusion has to take a moment before he can answer. He stares at the ground, eyes darting around at nothing while his lips form silent words. Finally he gives a decisive nod and looks back at them. “Braniel.”
Well.
“Braniel,” Seán repeats, trying the name out. It flows well, and it certainly suits him. Would that’ve been the creature’s name, too, if it’d ever spoken? He wonders if Braniel remembers being something else before, or if he really is a new consciousness. It seems too sensitive a thing to ask on their first proper meeting, though.
Braniel, apparently having had enough of the awkward standoff, stalks toward Daithi and snatches the map out of his hands. “You suck at this, dumbass,” he grumbles, and buries his face in it to find the correct route, already walking away.
“Hey!” Daithi yells and runs after him, "That’s my job, bastard, you can’t just show up and—“
“Hands off! I’m doing this now, I wouldn’t have had to take over if you weren’t so incompetent anyway—“
Seán turns to Kevin and gestures wildly after them. “What the fuck just happened?!?”
“I dunno, man,” Kevin shakes himself, finally relaxing, and shrugs. “Best not to question it, don’t want to look a gift mouth in the horse and all that.”
“Kevin, that’s not—“ but Kevin is gone, jogging to catch up to where Braniel is trying to simultaneously fend off Daithi and hold the map properly. Seán sees him clap a hand on their new companion’s shoulder.
“So, Bran, right?”
Braniel jerks his head around to face Kevin, and Seán actually does laugh this time at how offended he looks.
“Braniel. I’m not a fucking cereal.”
Kevin's grin turns gleeful at the indignant response, and Seán knows Bran’s going to fit right in.