Chapter Text
Aaron stepped out into the passenger pickup area of Denver International Airport. It’d been a relatively easy flight from Chicago, enough that the dramamine he took was enough to knock him out for the worst parts of the flight. His bag hit his knees as he stopped it from hitting a small child, and Aaron was reminded that he wasn’t in Denver for a visit. He and Katelyn had worked out until residency, when he was placed in Chicago and she was placed in Florida. They tried to make it work, but all the phone calls in the world couldn’t replace the fact that they were both working days at a time, with barely enough energy to eat something and fall into bed. Not to mention the fact that healing as a discipline was far more taxing than even Exy; Aaron had taken to carrying juice boxes and granola bars in his bag at all times, and would fall asleep if he was sitting for longer than 10 minutes. It was the fact that he felt incredibly lonely that he decided to suck it up and move to Denver. Andrew and Neil had settled there, and being close to his twin was enough to lessen the burden of emptiness in Aaron’s chest. That, and the fact that it’d be easier to see Nicky when Nicky had two other people to focus on as well.
Aaron took a deep breath of the hot air, grimacing as he realized just how much car exhaust he inhaled. How is it still this fucking hot at 8pm at night? He looked up and down the area, realizing that there was no way he’d see Andrew. The line for the cars was insanely long, backed up way before the pickup area. His phone started buzzing in his pocket.
“What?”
“Turn right, wherever you are, and go to the top of the line,” Andrew’s voice sounded slightly strained even through the normal monotone. “DIA’s setup is fucking trash.” Aaron hung up on his twin with a huff, turning and heading up. He passed by multiple families with an obvious college student they were moving, a few people in backpacking gear, some other families with little children, and a couple business people sweating in their suits before he hit the top of the line, at the entrance where people drove out of the area.
Aaron still had to wait another ten minutes before Andrew and Neil’s car hummed up to the curb. Andrew didn’t bother getting out of the car, waiting until Aaron had slid into the backseat after wrestling his two bags and duffel into the trunk with Neil’s help. Andrew turned in his seat to look at his twin.
“So, you’re alive then.” Andrew turned back around and started driving, narrowly missing someone in the crosswalk.
“So are you,” Aaron shot back. He hadn’t told Andrew he was moving until the children’s hospital confirmed his transfer a month prior. He couldn’t tell if Andrew was upset that he hadn’t said something sooner, or he was waiting for Aaron to break.
“Where’s your new apartment again?” Neil asked, turning in his seat to look at Aaron.
“On the east side of City Park,” Aaron said. “It's technically one of those accessory dwelling units.” He didn’t bother thanking either of them for letting him stay in their guest bedroom. He’d started to ask, but Andrew merely said, do you really have to ask. And that was that.
“You’ll be near us, then,” Neil said. “We live south from there, but it's only like 15 minutes away.”
“Yeah, you just bought six months ago, right? How’s that going?” Aaron never took his brother or Neil to be homeowners, and yet they were.
“Right out from underneath a developer's nose,” Andrew drawled. “Got us some brownie points with the neighborhood for it as well.”
“Why?”
“‘Cause the house is over a century old and apparently developers in the city keep buying old houses and knocking them down,” Neil shrugged.
“Why did you buy it?” Aaron asked.
“It has a really good garden, the previous owners put blood, sweat, and tears into it. Andrew couldn’t bear the idea of some developer fucking it all up,” Neil said. “Plus, it was a family home. We still have the previous owners over from time to time and they help us with the garden.”
Aaron stared at the side of Andrew’s head. Andrew likes gardening? Scratch that, Andrew cared about the amount of work some random family put into a garden?
Andrew glanced back at his twin. “It’s right by an ice cream parlor,” he added.
“That’s the real reason,” Aaron said, rolling his eyes. “It’s within walking distance of ice cream.”
“That’s just a plus,” Neil agreed. The three men lapsed into silence, with Aaron turning to stare outside the car window at the highway sliding past.
“Blucifer will be outside your window in ten seconds,” Neil said, pointing to the left side of the car.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“It’s a blue demonic horse,” Neil explained, right as Blucifer slid into view. Aaron stared at it. Where the hell have I moved to?
“Why is it there?”
Neil shrugged. “People love it. Or hate it. Either way, it’s funny ‘cause it killed its maker.”
“That is somewhat ironic, I suppose. Makes sense why you’d love it,” Aaron sniped.
Neil snorted. “Fuck off,” he said with no heat.
“Practice for the season doesn't start for another four weeks,” Andrew said after a few minutes.
“So?” Aaron said, tipping his head away from the black darkness outside to look at his brother. Andrew's face was bathed in the slight blue light of the dashboard, the lights running orange over his freckles from time to time. We have the same face, but you have more freckles, Aaron thought absently. He made a note to bother Andrew to wear sunscreen more.
“Can you make any charms that Neil can carry to help ward off curses on the court?”
“Hey–”
“Isn't that illegal?” Aaron interrupted. That was the one part of Exy that he'd never been fond of - if you got hit with the ball, you'd get a minor curse, such as your shoelaces untying themselves and tripping you, or you'd drop your stick. But sometimes, the magic would fuck up a little - sometimes, it wouldn't go away, and other times, it'd result in something a little more violent or a little more hindering, such as a twisted ankle. Either way, it meant that players would need to see someone to make sure it was gone or remove the curse before they went back home.
“Not during practice,” Andrew snorted. “And the Larks don't have a curse medic despite being horrifically clumsy.”
“We are not,” Neil argued. “You just keep hitting people with the balls on purpose.”
“Can you blame me?”
“It is pretty funny to watch,” Aaron admitted. “And I'll see what I can do, as long as you swear that you won't use any charms during a game.”
“Fine, fine,” Andrew said.
“I will know,” Aaron threatened.
“Fine,” Andrew hissed, flipping Aaron off.
***
Aaron collapsed onto the guest bed, his second week of work done. His apartment was still packed up in boxes, the only thing that he’d done was make his bed and unpack his clothes. While he was specializing in pediatrics, the chief resident and chief attending had figured out that inexplicably, he apparently ‘had a talent for curse work.’ Aaron thought they were pulling his leg. Curses were extremely common among children; those with magical skills often accidentally cursed their siblings, parents, friends. Always innocuous, but childhood curses often backfired on the child casting it. Curses couldn’t be treated like a broken bone – they needed to be removed before the injury or ailment could be treated. Healers were trained to remove most common curses; supposedly, if you were exceptionally good at curse removal, you could specialize in advanced curses, which covered casting and removal. But Aaron wasn’t exceptionally good at it, he was the same as everyone else. Able to detect the basic curses, remove the basic ones, leave it at that.
It was obvious when a curse was hanging around, at least to Aaron. He figured everyone had that ability if they were in the healing discipline. But on his first day, a patient was admitted who was struggling and nobody knew why. He was struggling to breathe, white blood cells concerningly high. Symptoms pointed to pneumonia, but nothing was working. Aaron hadn’t heard anyone float the possibility that a curse was preventing healing. Aaron had stepped into the room with the chief resident, Astrid, and immediately knew. Curses had a specific smell. They varied, but they were never rancid-smelling. But they always seemed to take on various aspects from their environment or context – at least, that’s what Aaron figured. He’d never encountered any text or anyone talking about how curses smelled in med school, so he figured it was normal. This one smelled like bubblegum and soap.
After introducing himself, Aaron asked, “You started feeling bad a few weeks ago, right? Are you missing being allowed to chew bubblegum?” Luca was 15, a little too old for magical aptitude to show up, a little too old for a childhood curse to have backfired. He’d just had braces put on. Luca wasn’t small for his age; he was an Exy player for his school, nothing out of the ordinary had happened recently. No hits from Exy balls, no breakups, nothing.
“How’d you know?” The kid asked, eyes going wide. “Are you a psychic?”
Aaron barely repressed a scoff. “I wouldn’t want to be a doctor if I was a psychic,” he said, looking up. He felt Astrid’s sharp gaze on him. He ignored it. He had a hunch. Nobody’s cursing random shampoo bottles and putting them back on the shelf.
“So, I’m going to ask you some weird questions. We’re trying to rule out if you had an allergic reaction, okay?” Aaron liked to tell his patients why he was asking them questions. He’d found it put a lot of nervous kids at ease to know what was going on. And Luca was nervous – he couldn’t stop fiddling with the pen in his hands.
“Okay,” Luca said warily.
“Did you eat anything different than normal, use a new detergent or anything in the past couple weeks?”
Luca frowned. The pen clicked rapidly in his hands. “I don’t think so? My mom didn’t make anything different for food. And I didn’t do anything different at school.”
“What about soap or shampoo?”
“I haven’t changed soap recent–” the pen stopped clicking, “oh, I did. I mean, not on purpose.”
“What do you mean?”
“I dunno, a few weeks ago I poured my shampoo in my hands and it was just like. . . different. It smelled vaguely like bubblegum. I just figured that Ally had been messing around and making her ‘potions’ in the bath again.” Bingo. Childhood curse. It wasn’t meant to give him pneumonia, it was probably meant to just dye his hair or something.
“Does Ally play with your soap a lot?”
“Yeah, but mom promised she’d stop after I yelled at her for using my body spray.” Ah, to be 15 and unaware of the chemical warfare you’re committing with the body spray.
“I understand that,” Aaron said sympathetically. “I did that to my brother one time.” But we were in college.
“Yeah, it’s so annoying,” Luca complained. “She constantly uses my shit–sorry, stuff, for her potions and pretending. I know she’s 8, but I wish she’d stop. It’s my stuff!”
Aaron made sympathetic noises before saying, “Alright, thanks for answering my weird questions. I’m guessing that it might be an allergic reaction, but I want to talk it over with Astrid first. Sound good?”
“Yeah, thanks Doctor Minyard,” Luca said. His phone chimed next to him. Astrid followed Aaron out of the room, closing the door behind her. She’d watched him like a hawk for the entire interaction. Aaron had the distinct impression that she was about to criticize his bedside manner.
“Aaron, quick word,” she said, jerking her head back to her office. Great. Third day here and I’m already getting reprimanded.
Aaron closed the door behind him. “I–”
“Nothing in your files say you’re good at curse work,” Astrid said, sitting down behind her desk. Aaron followed suit, sitting opposite her.
“I’m not,” Aaron shrugged. “I just figured that might’ve been something that was overlooked.”
“We were also thinking it might be allergy-related in some way, considering he also has a rash. But you were going to tell me it’s a childhood curse causing this, correct?”
“Yeah,” Aaron agreed, breathing easier. Thank god, I’m not getting in trouble. “I’m guessing that his sister got mad that he yelled at her, so she tried cursing his shampoo to dye his hair or something. She just doesn’t have the control over her magic, so she overdid it.”
Astrid nodded, tapping her nails on the desk. “I’ll call his mom and have her bring the shampoo bottle so we can remove it. What tipped you off that it was a curse?”
“I mean, it seems obvious to me,” Aaron shrugged. Astrid didn’t look like she believed him, but she dismissed him anyway.
Three days later, Astrid found him right as he was about to clock out. “Aaron, Doctor Halled and I would like a word with you really quick.”
Aaron froze. “Doctor Halled?” He asked, barely managing to keep a voice crack under control. What did I do wrong? They’re about to kick me out, aren’t they? I knew I should’ve run prescribing that painkiller by her earlier, but it was the only one–
“You’re not in trouble,” Astrid said, breaking Aaron from his thoughts.
“I didn’t think I was,” Aaron denied. Astrid snorted, but said nothing else. She turned and Aaron followed her to Doctor Halled’s office.
“Doctor Minyard,” Halled greeted him. Aaron had had the chance to briefly meet her before moving out to Denver; she was well-respected, an excellent pediatrician and healer. Halled reminded Aaron of Katelyn. In his mind, there was no doubt that she’d become like Doctor Halled later in her career.
“Doctor Halled,” Aaron said, taking the chair she indicated. Astrid sat next to him. “Doctor Smith said you two wanted to talk to me?”
“Please, call me Molly,” Doctor Halled smiled. “You’re not in trouble, in case you were wondering.”
“I-I wasn’t wondering,” Aaron said, clearing his throat. “I’m just curious why?”
Doctor Halled smiled as if she didn’t believe him, but flipped open the folder she’d been reviewing. “I was reviewing your application, and it doesn’t say whether you studied anything on curses.”
“I didn’t,” Aaron said. “I got the basics of it, like everyone else. Why does this matter?”
“How’d you know that Luca had a curse? Or the other,” Halled flipped through a different stack of papers, “four cases you identified this week?”
Aaron cocked his head, unable to stop the frown pulling at his mouth. “I don’t see the issue? Is there a problem?”
“No, no, Aaron, we’re just–we just are trying to figure out how you knew without calling Doctor Sayed. He’s one of the two pediatric physicians we have who also specialize in curses.”
Aaron’s heart sank. “I apologize for going over his head–”
“Aaron,” Astrid interrupted, taking a deep breath, pinching the bridge of her nose between her fingers. “How did you know the patients had curses just from walking in the room?”
“I don’t diagnose just from walking in the room,” Aaron’s anger flared. “I’m a better doctor–”
“Aaron, you’re a great doctor, it’s obvious. I witnessed the last one myself,” Halled interrupted. “You walked into the room, turned to the intern and said, ‘I’m guessing this is a curse’ without even seeing the patient.”
Aaron gave her a quizzical look. “I mean, yeah. That one was obvious. It smelled like pine trees and chlorine. I don’t understand why but–”
“It. . . smelled?”
“Yeah, it–wait,” Aaron said. It was dawning on him that maybe. . . something was off. “You guys don’t smell curses?”
Halled furrowed her brows and opened her mouth a few times. “No, no. Aaron, have you just. . . thought that everyone can smell curses?”
“Well, yeah.”
“Okay, you are an excellent doctor,” Astrid said, “but I have never encountered someone who could smell curses.”
“What?” Aaron asked, voice cracking. “Surely–”
“I’ll give your number to Ahmed,” Halled said. “If you’re interested in studying curse med, we can arrange for that. It would at least be good for you to connect with him.”
Aaron nodded dumbly. “Yeah. I just thought it was– I dunno. Something everyone could do.”
“Definitely not,” Astrid said, patting Aaron’s shoulder as she got up.
***
Aaron turned over, burying his face against his pillow. It’d been a long week, even though it was good. He didn’t mean to fall asleep, but he woke up to his phone buzzing against his cheek, rattling his head.
“What?” He grunted, answering it without checking to see who it was.
“Can you come over?” Andrew’s usual monotone asked. “The idiot that I live with got hit with three Exy balls today and now he has duck feet and can only hop like a bunny. Your charm didn’t work.”
Aaron rolled over to look at his bedside clock. Shit, I slept for five hours, it’s 9pm. Damn it. “Yeah, I’ll come over.” He hung up on his brother. Aaron groaned for a minute before slowly getting up, his back cracking in the process. He slowly changed into a pair of sweats and an old t-shirt before shoving on his crocs as he left.
Aaron had bought a cheap car after a week of temporarily living with Andrew and Neil. While Andrew trusted him with their Maserati, Aaron didn’t particularly feel like driving it around. To his irritation, Denver’s transportation system was about as bad as Reyna, his coworker at the hospital, had warned him. After a week of misery, he managed to find a cheap Subaru at a dealership for an amount that he could squeeze into his budget. It smelled strongly of cigarettes, but after living with Andrew for years, Aaron didn’t mind. Aaron grabbed his keys as he left, shutting the door behind him and locking it before heading down the stairs to the front door.
Aaron lived in an old apartment building built somewhere around the 1920s; the apartments were small, but cozy. It wasn’t a ‘luxury’ building by any means – it was all old-school physical keys, shared laundry, and there was only street parking. But he’d managed to get a corner unit with west-facing light. It didn’t have a dishwasher, and the closets smelled of mothballs, but Aaron liked the charm. The neighborhood was also cute, full of old houses and mature trees.
Aaron walked down half the block to where he’d parked – he’d gotten off before most people came home from work, so he managed to snag a spot on his block for once. He unlocked the wheel lock and threw it into his front seat. Aaron remembered the way to Andrew and Neil’s apartment exactly, unrolling the window as he started. It was early October – while the heat was continuing to linger like a bad fever, the nights were cool.
Aaron turned into Andrew and Neil’s driveway, spotting Andrew sitting on the porch steps, arms folded across his chest. Their house was small, but comfortable enough. According to Andrew, it was built at the turn of the century, evident in the Victorian facade and the meticulously-restored interior. Aaron had to grudgingly admit that it was the best house for them – it had three bedrooms, allowing Andrew and Neil to both have their own rooms as well as a spare that was a dual guest bedroom and office.
“Your charm didn’t work,” Andrew glowered at Aaron as he walked up the drive. “Josten has fucking duck feet. And he’s hopping like a fucking rabbit.”
“An improvement, then,” Aaron snorted. “You look like you want a cigarette.” He couldn’t help but poke at his brother – Andrew had quit cigarettes upon moving to Denver, but he had admitted to Aaron that he still got intense cravings when he’d asked if Aaron had any solutions.
“You look like you want a punch to the face,” Andrew said irritatedly. “And my need to punch something grows by the minute.”
“Bad day?” Aaron asked, finally moving to open the front door.
“Kevin came to visit us and tell us that he’s joining the Larks,” Andrew said, following closely behind, almost running into his brother when Aaron stopped dead in his tracks.
“Kevin’s joining?” Aaron asked, turning. His heart leapt into his throat a little; he and Kevin hadn’t spoken for at least four years. The last time they’d talked, Kevin had mistaken him for Andrew three times. Aaron was usually able to brush it off, but then Kevin had doubled down. It’s not my fault that everyone sees Andrew first, Aaron. He’s going pro, you’re not. You’re nothing like Andrew. That had shattered Aaron for days, the fact that someone he’d been close to for so long had voiced his worst fears. Aaron was the twin, not as good or worthy of remembrance like Andrew. He lived in his brother’s shadow at Palmetto, but Aaron had had enough therapy to recognize that it wasn’t Andrew’s fault. But Aaron never told Andrew or anyone else about what Kevin had said. All it would do is add to the hurt.
“Why do you care?” Andrew said, rolling his eyes and pushing past his brother, heading upstairs.
Aaron managed to gather his wits before he spiraled down. “Oh, so what you’re telling me is that you’re throwing a fit over the Queen moving here, disrupting your horrific diet?” He followed Andrew up the stairs.
“My diet is none of your concern, doc,” Andrew said, pushing open the bedroom door. “And besides,” he added, “be grateful it’s much better than it was in college.”
Aaron rolled his eyes as he passed Andrew into the bedroom. Neil was laying in the bed, knitting. Wonder what it is now that he’s knitting, Aaron briefly thought. Neil had picked up knitting in his last year of college – most of Andrew’s sweaters were knitted by Neil, and a few of the Foxes had gotten something knitted for a present one year. Apparently, his own innate magic was somehow tied into the knitting, but he’d never explained it. Aaron was still telling himself that he didn’t care that Neil didn’t make him anything.
Neil looked up. “Finally, did you have to take so long?” He complained. “Look at my feet!” He said, dramatically uncovering his legs.
Aaron couldn’t help it, and he laughed. Neil’s feet were overly large, leathery and a deep gold-orange, attached to human legs. “Did you piss off a duck?” He asked, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Can you feel that?” He asked, pinching the tip of Neil’s foot hard.
Neil yelped and kicked Aaron in the side. Aaron wheezed and almost fell off the bed. “I’m trying to help Josten, stop,” he said, grabbing Neil’s foot again.
“What crawled up your ass and died?” Neil said back.
“It’s called working for three days straight and I just woke up from a five-hour nap,” Aaron said absently, feeling Neil’s foot. He didn’t notice the pregnant pause after his statement, as he was trying to find the edge of the curse. Most Exy curses that lingered were odd – if it was a physical change, it was something that had an edge, something that could be pulled off the player. If it was something like Neil’s bunny hopping, Aaron had learned from Abby that it was usually the cause of a layered curse. Exy curses turned to physical first, everything else after. If the first curse was removed, the other ones layered on top would slough off with it like dead skin.
“What happened first, the feet or the hopping?” Aaron asked.
“The feet,” Neil said sulkily. “And then when I was figuring out how to walk with fucking flippers, someone missed a catch and it hit me in the leg instead.” Physical first, everything else after. His legs were already affected, so the curse switched to doing something else. I bet if it’d hit him in the arm, he would’ve sprouted wings or something.
“Got it,” Aaron said, feeling up to Neil’s ankle. “Kevin’s losing his touch if he missed Andrew’s ball.”
“He’s not losing his touch,” Neil started before wincing as Aaron prodded at his calf. “He was–why’re you feeling up my fucking ankle–” Aaron found the edge and dug his nail underneath it, ignoring Neil’s immediate yelp. Aaron ignored the burning scowl that Andrew directed his way, the slight sparks sliding across his hands. The duck feet were suctioned to Neil’s ankles and feet like scuba gear, so it required a lot more concentration than Aaron had originally figured. With a sucking sound, Aaron pulled off one of the feet. It fell to the floor with a wet slop before disappearing.
“Whoa,” Neil said, eyes going wide. Aaron watched him wiggle his toes in his peripheral vision, switching to Neil’s other ankle to find the edge of the other foot. Aaron pulled off the other one.
“The charm didn’t work because it doesn’t work for layered curses,” Aaron said, directing it at Andrew, who was leaning against the dresser. “I thought Fast and Furious here would be able to dodge a second ball.”
“Fuck off, discount Andrew,” Neil said. Aaron repressed a frown – he hated that nickname, but he wasn’t about to tell Neil that. Instead, he flipped Neil off directly in his face.
“Whatever,” Aaron said. “You’re welcome, by the way.”
“Do you want dinner?” Andrew asked suddenly. Aaron looked away from Neil and to Andrew, who was blankly studying him.
“Fuck it, yeah,” Aaron said, his stomach growling. “What did you have?”
“Chili,” Andrew said, pushing off the dresser and heading down the stairs. “I’ll warm it up.”
“Thanks,” Aaron said, waiting for Neil to get up to check that he wouldn’t start hopping.
Neil carefully got up and stepped, straightening up when he didn’t start hopping. “Thanks,” he said awkwardly after a minute.
“It’s no problem,” Aaron shrugged. “What’re you knitting this time?”
Neil was unable to mask the brief surprise that flashed across his face. Fuck you, Josten, I can be nice. “Socks,” he said carefully, picking it up and holding it up for Aaron to inspect. They were orange, patterned with black bats.
“Cool, perfect for Halloween,” Aaron said amiably. He followed Neil as they wandered down to the kitchen.