Stained Glass Eyes (and Colorful Tears)

by MyReasonsToLiveAreDwindling, TeamAlphaQ

Summary:

The life of a hunter isn’t a good one. It's hard, it's short, and most of the time it’s ugly. If you're lucky, between putting down vicious non-humans and containing horrific magical accidents, it'll all mean something. If you aren't lucky? Well...

Changbin hasn't been unlucky exactly. Sure, his last four partners have ended badly, and sure, his entire job involves killing other sentient beings, but he's got his team. He's got somewhere to go back to. Sometimes, he's even willing to say he's happy.

Then Felix shows up, and suddenly everything gets complicated.

 

Never trust something that seems eager to die.

Notes:

We really are back again.

This was supposed to be [redacted] but on a second and possibly third glance, I decided it'd be best Like This.

Strap in, it's going to be a long one.

Enjoy~

Chapter 1: A Matter Of Last Resort

᚛ᚒᚖᚒ᚜ 

 

“You don’t understand, we’re not ready for someone new on our team.”

“And I don’t think you understand. This isn’t a matter of if you’re ready or not, it’s a matter of I need help.”

Sighing, Chan scrubs a hand over his face, the other one clenching a little tighter around the phone in his hand. It’s a land-line, something he gets endless grief for from the others, but it’s moments like these he’s glad he clings to tradition. Because he needs something like this to ground him. Something he can squeeze until the plastic creaks and the tension in his chest releases.

Help. Of course Junhyung would pull that card. And he gets it. Their job isn’t an easy one. The Bureau of Human and Non-Human Affairs and Relations is a tangled mess of bureaucracy at the best of times. Lives get shuffled like playing cards, and official groups like theirs get caught in the cross-hairs more often than not. But still, he wishes the man had used a different word.

“Look, we- we don’t have any room.” Scraping the barrel of excuses, he reasons, “I’ve got a partner, and so does Jisung. It’s not that I don’t want to help you but I can’t.”

There’s a moment of silence from the other end of the line, followed by a slow sigh. “Hyung, please, I pulled the most recent records. I have them in front of me. Changbin-hyung-"

“Isn’t ready for another partner.” He doesn’t mean to snap, but it comes off harsh regardless. Despite the distance between them, and the static in the phone connection, Chan can practically hear Junhyung cringe backwards at the tone. “He just split with the guy. I filed the paperwork last week.”

“Sorry.” Thankfully for Chan’s peace of mind, Junhyung sounds sincere. “I didn’t realize it was so fresh.”

“It was a bit of a mess.” Staring down at the piles of paperwork scattered around him, Chan pokes at them with a finger, edging them into slightly neater stacks. “Jun pinned it on Changbin, claimed he couldn’t do it anymore. Kinda… Stormed out on us.”

There’s an audible wince from Junhyung. “And I thought Junseong was a brat for leaving.”

“I’m not saying it isn’t a fine reason.” Eyes drifting to the top folder in his ever growing stack, Chan squints through the dim light. ‘Wild Cockatrice Nest. B class threat. Elimination’. “His job isn’t easy. And it has to be hard for them. They’re mons- non-humans too.”

“But to do it like that…” The other hunter trails off, and Chan dips his head in resignation. The disaster it had made still sticks out painfully in the forefront of his mind. If it hadn’t been for Hyunjin’s quick thinking and the outburst of magic he’d pushed out, it would have been a lot more than just their home being torn to pieces. “How is he coping?”

“Who knows!” Shoving away from his desk, Chan reaches for the back of his neck only to force his free hand back down into his lap. “He won’t talk to me, and it’s been a month.” If he’s being honest with himself, Chan knows that for Changbin, that’s hardly enough time to process, much less cope, but he’s still worried. Last time something went badly, it had been years before he’d come back out of his shell. Tiredly, he gives in and drags a hand through his hair. “I think he’s just happy to be working alone again.”

“That sounds like a guess.”

“It’s all I have.” Pursing his lips together, Chan glances over at the small candle guttering on the table. “Do you understand why I’m telling you we can’t take anyone else?”

“I do…” The but is so evident in Junhyung’s tone that it might as well have been stated.

Fighting a sigh, Chan plants an elbow on the arm of his chair and rests his forehead against the heel of his hand. “But…?”

“But when I say I don’t have a choice, I mean it.” Hearing the desperation in Junhyung’s normally strong voice gives Chan some pause. Help is one thing. Exhausted options is another. “I’ve called up some people I know over in Santarém, as well as the Runic specialists and the Draconic specialists. Nothing. I’ve personally contacted no fewer than twelve other regional groups and I’ve gotten negatives across the board. Jaehan-ssi made it clear that he’s never dealt with something like this before. You’re my last option before I have to start talking to the bureaucrats.”

He hates being the last option, but it’s not the first time. It probably won’t be the last.

Drawing in a breath, he fights down the desire to just hang up and make it someone else’s problem in perpetuity. But in the end, Chan knows himself better. He won’t, or more accurately, he can’t. Whether it’s Junhyung or the Bureau or his own boys, a cry for help is a cry for help. And all the details aside, this job has always been about helping people. If he starts turning away some of them for good reasons, he’ll start turning them all away for bad reasons.

Exhaling, Chan mutters, “Tell me about them.”

Relief immediately evident in his voice, even if it’s just Chan hearing him out, Junhyung starts to launch into an explanation. “He’s a fae.”

“Isn’t that usually your department?”

“Ah, typically, yeah.” A long, heavy breath from the other end of the line heralds a story of some sort, so Chan settles back and waits. “But this isn’t just another fairy, hyung, he’s an everflower.”

It takes a moment of pawing mentally through his extensive knowledge on non-humans to find the information, but once it occurs to him, Chan’s eyebrow cranks up. “How on earth did you manage to get your hands on one of them?”

“Legal trouble. Manslaughter.” Junhyung says the words like he’s had to say them a thousand times already, but Chan can hear the tightness in his tone. “It was either this or the Cradle, behind bars, and honestly, I’m starting to wonder why they gave him a chance.”

“I’m surprised they’d separate him from his clan like that and just…” Trailing off as he realizes who he’s talking about, Chan mutters, “No, I take that back, that’s exactly what the system does. I don’t know why I’m shocked.”

“No, it’s criminal negligence, it shocked me too.” Pausing, Junhyung audibly fights with himself for a moment before speaking again. “I… Shouldn’t have put him with Kangsung. I knew it was going to be bad. Logically, I saw the signs from the moment this fae walked through our doors but I thought… I thought he’d be able to soothe the anger.” The implied I thought wrong says volumes.

Anger. Well Chan can only imagine. Everflowers might be rare, there are only a few tribes left scattered throughout the world, but there’s a reason there are special laws protecting them and their territory. And it’s not to keep them safe. Anyone that's descended from the spring court is going to be a little bit volatile. Even an everflower on their own territory is typically standoffish, but pull them away from their matriarch? From their tribe?

Chan pulls a face. “I respect Kangsung, he's good at what he does, but-“

“This fae easily overpowered him. Kangsung has gone through years of training specifically to know how best to handle fae, but he might as well have been a rookie. And if we hadn’t been there to intervene-” When Junhyung pauses this time, Chan can hear the guilt lingering in what he’s not saying, and something in him instantly rises to assuage it.

“You can’t have known.” Eyes drifting as the grip he has on the phone finally loosens, Chan murmurs, “It could have been the perfect partnership. He might have mellowed out and been fine. A lot of them do once they realize this is ‘it’.” He doesn’t make the air quotes around the word it with his fingers, but it’s implied in his tone. “You are not expected to and rarely will get it right every time.”

“Kangsung still hasn’t recovered. Mentally.” A beat of static-y silence. “Or physically.”

Oh.

“I’m amazed you haven’t tossed the fae back into the system,” Chan admits. 

“I almost did worse.” The faint light filtering from elsewhere in the house flickers, throwing shadows over Chan’s desk. “It was close, but… Well, they’re both still alive, and he’s still here even if I can’t keep him for much longer.”

Chan’s jaw tightens. He doesn’t disagree with the decision; in fact, he applauds it. It’s the right thing to do, following protocol and giving leniency where the complexities of the bond and the magic requires it. Certainly it avoids a lot of unpleasant paperwork, and it means that this fae who clearly needs help has a chance to get it, instead of ending up terminated. That being said… 

If someone severely injured one of his boys- well, he has a lot of things, but he doesn’t have quite the ability to forgive and forget that Junhyung apparently has. Part of it he knows is age and experience- dare he say it, he’s jaded- but part of it is something deeply ingrained into his nature.

The team he has now is his life, and his fellow hunters are more than just colleagues. Even calling them brothers would be inadequate to describe it. And if he’s honest, it probably wouldn’t be the most comfortable word, considering how his relationships with them have fluctuated. But he can say they’re the people he values most in his life, and if someone hurt them, especially someone he still saw as an outsider, he’d probably see red before he saw reason.

Clearing his throat, Chan grabs for one of the pens on his desk so he has something to twirl between his fingers. “I can see why you need him out.”

“It’s either I find someone who might be capable of handling him, or he ends up in the Cradle.” It’s the bitter truth, but Chan hates to hear it so bluntly. Especially because he feels partially responsible for making sure things like that don’t happen. That these non-humans get a second chance. “There’s no way a case like his will put him on a local task-force, and even if the Bureau juggles him for another few years, he’ll still end up in the same place. And you know they don’t make anything better over there. They never have.”  

“So it’s a lose-lose, unless-”

“Unless someone takes him.”

Pursing his lips together, Chan focuses on the pen slowly flipping over his knuckles, and avoids rubbing at his tired eyes once more. Even though he’s agreed to nothing, he already feels like he’s in deep. “You think we could handle him?”

“Yes.” At least for that question, Junhyung sounds fully confident. “I know you could, and I know you trust your team. He’s wild, but he’s a wounded animal. He’s not completely gone.”

Chan doesn’t say that he’s known quite a few wounded animals to be completely gone. He can get as deep into non-human psychology as he wants, but at the end of the day, he’ll probably never understand that tipping point some of them have. Because it’s different than humans. And sometimes it’s triggered by things that he would see as uncomfortable but ultimately not the end of the world. Sometimes, if you shake a non-human the wrong way, they just snap.

But his heart will always trump his common sense, because he still finds himself prodding for details. “What’s… He like?” Not just the metadata, Chan wants to know who the man is as an individual.

Unfortunately, all his prodding gets him is mild frustration.

“Angry. Upset. There’s something under it, but… It’s pretty deep, I’ll be honest. I haven’t even managed to get him on a mission.” Junhyung pauses, no doubt as he tries to scrape together as many details as he has. “ The ritual had to be done while he was tranquilized. That probably didn’t help. But it was the only way we were getting it on him. So I guess you could add violently stubborn to that list.”

Admittedly, Chan wants more than that. He wants something good he can focus on, past what sounds like a bad decision made with a soft heart. But he knows the tone of Junhyung’s voice. That’s all he has. “Okay, what tribe did he come from?” Maybe that will give him a clue.

This, thankfully, Junhyung has an answer to. “Bellflower tribe. Up in the mountains. From what I can gather, he was off the reserve when it happened.”

“For the charges to stick, it would have had to have been.” Another flip of the pen over his knuckles. When he misses it with his thumb, it clatters to the table and Chan doesn’t pick it up again. “What about his position in the tribe? Do we know that?”

“The matriarch didn’t fight for him.” Well that gives Chan a clearer picture than almost anything else could have. An everflower queen would fight tooth and nail- or perhaps petal and thorn- for anyone she deemed worthy of it. And usually, that worthiness extended to the whole tribe. If she didn’t stand in court for this fae…

Are you sure he’s not a basket case? But Chan doesn’t want to ask it. For Junhyung’s sake, mostly, as well as for the sake of this everflower he’s never met. “How long is his mandatory service?”

“Fifteen years.”

Chan huffs. “Long time.”

“There’s an option for local service after five.” There’s the faint sound of rustling paper before Junhyung speaks again. “The case made by the NHA was self-defense, which is why he’s getting the option for service instead of automatic time behind bars. But apparently the prosecution was good. As I don’t have a transcription of the case itself, and he won’t tell us anything, I don’t actually know who was in the right and who wasn’t.”

“He got service, I’d err on the side of giving him the benefit of the doubt.” Still. Angry, stubborn, and proven to be capable of killing a man doesn’t sound like a good combination. And he’s already attacked another hunter. Yet here Chan is, actively wondering if maybe his little team can handle one new person. 

The answer is probably yes, and already he’s absently reasoning out the details. He could take on this fae, but he’s already got Hyunjin. But maybe he could shift the phoenix over to Changbin for a while and take on a new challenge. The idea of breaking his bond actively makes something in his chest ache, but he’ll do it if that’s the only way. It’s not like he’ll lose the man.

I could try passing the fae to Changbin. Elimination missions are a good place for anger.

Almost like he can hear Chan’s thoughts, Junhyung mutters, “I’ll admit, I called you because it was Changbin-hyung who filed for a new bond. I don’t know your team like you do, but I think given time this fae would be useful in dangerous situations. If he can just channel it, he’ll be an asset.”

“That’s presupposing I’ll take him,” Chan mutters, even if that’s exactly what he’d been considering. “I don’t know if Changbin needs someone who is so clearly going to fight with him.”

A beat, then a sigh that sends a rush of static through the receiver. “That’s your call, not mine. If you can’t take him, then you can’t.”

Rubbing the back of his neck, Chan gives a sigh of his own. It is his call, and he doesn’t want to make the wrong one, especially not when it comes to Changbin. “Look, this would be his fifth partner. That’s not insignificant.” Most hunters went through their service only ever working with one or two partners. A few managed to make that an unfortunate three due to extenuating circumstances, but five? “I… I want to help. But I don’t know if I can.”

“That’s what we said about Junseong when you first called us.” There’s nothing in Junhyung’s voice that suggests it’s supposed to be a guilt-trip. If anything, it sounds like he’s trying to comfort Chan, but it feels like a guilt-trip. Because yeah, they owe Junhyung’s team a lot because of a situation much like this one. And now that he’s thinking about it, that’s another reason tipping the mental scales Chan has constructed.

Once upon a time, Junseong had been one of Changbin’s partners. It had lasted for a little over two years before the blink dog had said enough was enough. This might have been mandatory community service for Junseong, but they’d been asking him to risk his life every other week. Eventually, he’d just refused to do another mission until they put him somewhere else. Granted it hadn’t been a total disaster, not compared to Changbin’s last partner, but it had still been hell to deal with.

Because suddenly they had to find a new place for this non-human, specifically a partner before he ended up thrown back into the system. Much like Junhyung, Chan hadn’t been about to put someone through that disaster of bureaucracy more than once, especially if it would inevitably lead to the Cradle. So he’d made phone calls, and Junhyung had been the one to pick up.

A team who could handle fae, and a hunter without a partner? It had been a godsend. Suhyun’s previous partner had finished up her time in the system, and he needed someone new to work with. A blink dog like Junseong had been the perfect match. And at least there, Chan could guarantee the chances of death were acceptable.

Interdepartmental shifts like this weren’t unheard of, but Junhyung had been there to collect Junseong within the week, and he’d been the one to take care of most of the paperwork. It had turned what could have been a painful and prolonged process into something almost pleasant. For that, more than anything, he owed the man.

Taking on this everflower would definitely repay the debt.

Chan doesn’t like to owe people, especially not people he respects and enjoys working with. It feels like all the stars are aligning, aren’t they? Even if it ends up in some shuffling for them, it feels like a decision he was destined to make from the beginning.

“I’ll have to run it by the team,” he mutters, as the weight of what he’s saying closes down around his ears. “But… Well if he’s like you’re saying he is, we might be the only team who can handle him.”

“I didn’t want to put it like that, but… Yeah.” Junhyung chuckles, and Chan hears the relief in his tone. “You’re one of the strongest teams around, after the Welsh regional team disbanded. If it’s not you and your people, then who?”

No one.

They’re the last option, the emergency call. The everything has gone to shit, we’re out of options people. Chan is the number every hunter on the planet happens to have just in case. And whether it’s the end of the world, or an angry fae no one else can handle, he’ll pick up the phone and try his best.

The light behind him flickers again, and Chan bends his head in surrender. 

“Does he have a name?”

“The matriarch’s surname was Lee. His name is Felix.”

Nodding to himself, Chan snags a blank piece of paper and scribbles down the details. 

Lee Felix

Everflower, fae

Fifteen year service, charges of manslaughter

“Try to get your side of the paperwork in order.” He hears the sharp inhale from Junhyung, and can’t help the tired smile that crosses his face. “I’ll get the official transfer documents on my end and try to get them filed. We can work out who is coming where later.”

“Thank you.”

Junhyung says it like a thousand pounds have been lifted from his shoulders. Chan sincerely hopes that doesn’t mean that weight is about to be placed on his shoulders instead.

“No need to thank me.” Behind Chan, there’s the soft sound of a door opening, and thoughtlessly he spins his chair to watch the hallway. “Consider us even.”

“You know it’s not like that,” Junhyung mutters with a chuckle. “But sure, even. I just hope you can do better for him than we could.”

“Well, it’s not like we don’t already have some odd ones.” As a lanky man with fluffy purple hair pokes his head out from the hallway, Chan’s expression goes fond. “It may take a bit, but I’m sure Felix will fit in just fine.”

“Hopefully.” There’s one last shuffle of papers then Junhyung clears his throat. “I’ll give you a call with more concrete details later. Thank you again for picking up, hyung.”

And then the line goes dead, and Chan’s left with the empty receiver, still staring at the figure in the hallway. Slowly, he takes in the familiar, soft face, the long limbs, the void black eyes that seem to glitter, even in the darkness. It’s a comforting sight, and slowly his muscles start to unknot.

After a long moment of silence, the man speaks, his slightly nasally voice soft and sweet in the stillness. “You look stressed.”

Remembering himself, Chan quickly puts the phone back in its cradle. “Ah, not stressed. Yet? Might be stressed soon, we’ll see.”

Humming low in his throat, Seungmin steps fully into the room and slowly pads over to Chan. “Is it Junseong?” When the older hunter raises his brow, Seungmin just gives an easy shrug of his shoulders. “You were talking to Junhyung. You haven’t spoken to him on the phone like this since the transfer.”

“Oh, no, Junseong is fine.” There’s something about Seungmin just being here that settles him. Like seeing Hyunjin smile. Like hearing Jisung laugh or watching Changbin try to contain that same laughter. Despite the gravity of what he just agreed to, Chan can’t find it in him to stay tense. “It’s… Something else. A new member of the team, maybe.”

One of Seungmin’s hands lands on Chan’s head, and he leans into it as it cards through his hair before pressing against his cheek. “Felix?” It’s phrased like a guess, but Seungmin had been standing there to hear the name, so Chan doesn’t beat around the bush.

Nodding, he lets his eyes slip closed. “They need us to take him. They might be fae specialists, but apparently this guy is too much for them to handle.”

Chan can hear Seungmin’s simple smile in his voice. “We shouldn’t have a problem with him.”

“You won’t.” Snorting, Chan shifts closer, until his forehead is resting on Seungmin’s stomach, until he can hear the faint triplet count of whatever the man has that functions like a pulse. “But I don’t know where I’m going to put him.”

“Changbin,” Seungmin says at once, shifting his hold until he’s got his arms loosely draped around Chan’s shoulders.

Scrunching up his nose, Chan shakes his head. “He’s not ready.”

“He’s been handling this better than you think.” Accompanying the assurance with blunt nails gently scraping over the back of Chan’s thin shirt, Seungmin settles his weight against the side of the chair. “If we’re going by how long it’s taken him to get over previous partners, I think he took Junseong leaving worse.”

“He won’t talk to me!” Chan groans, his frustration cracking through his exhaustion. “He looks at me and says he’s fine and okay, maybe he is, but he says he’s fine no matter what. He didn't even tell us before running off to the mountains this time. I’m worried. I don’t want to dump an angry everflower into his lap if he’s not ready to handle it.”

“Then ask him.”

Chan clenches his fists and his jaw, but with Seungmin so close, it’s difficult to hold onto the stress bubbling in his gut. Instead, it turns to resignation. “If he thinks it’ll help me, he’ll do it. Hell, if I catch him at a bad time, he’ll say yes just so he doesn’t have to think about it. I don’t want another disaster.”

Another hum from Seungmin. This one, he can feel in his skull, tingling through his spine. “It won’t be a disaster. If you really thought that, you wouldn’t have agreed to take this fae.”

Laughing ruefully, Chan brings his arms up to wrap around Seungmin’s tiny waist. “Are you sure you can’t just peek into the future and tell me it’s going to be alright?” 

Seungmin snorts. “Don’t be silly, Chan. I can give you a back scratch if it’ll help, but I can’t look into the future.”

“Ah, well, worth a shot.” Drawing in a deep breath, just focusing on the faint sensation of Seungmin’s fingers over his shirt, Chan forces himself to calm down. He’s right, Chan wouldn’t have said yes if he didn’t think they could handle it. And if Seungmin says that Changbin is okay, then maybe the other hunter is. Whether that okay stretches to another partner, Chan isn’t sure, but it might be worth asking.

He’s stressed, but he’s always stressed. He’s worried, but he’s always at least a little worried.

If Changbin is fine to handle missions, then he should be fine to handle missions as a team.  He's working on a joint mission with the containment branch, so clearly he's able to cooperate. And I won’t put him out in the field with Felix unless I’m sure they’ll be able to handle it. I’m not stupid.

Absently, Seungmin lifts a hand and returns to patting Chan’s head, almost like he’ll be able to drive the bad thoughts away. “Hyunjinnie’s probably wondering why you haven’t come to bed yet. He was trying to wait up for you, you know.”

“Right, yeah, I should probably get to that.” Heaven knows he needs the rest, and sitting here thinking himself in circles isn’t going to get him anywhere new. Glancing up at Seungmin, Chan sticks out his bottom lip. “Come to bed with us?”

“Jisung is probably looking for me.” When Seungmin smiles, it's with just the faintest hint of teeth, and anyone who had the presence of mind to count would have noticed there are entirely too many. “You need sleep.”

Chan huffs. “I’ll try.”

“You’ll succeed.” Helping coax Chan to his feet, Seungmin leans down ever so slightly to place a kiss on the hunter’s cheek. “Now go. It’ll all still be there in the morning.”

It will be, and he’s tired.

Pressing his own kiss to Seungmin’s soft lips, Chan stretches before wandering away in the direction of his room. He’ll start work on this whole Felix business tomorrow.

 

 ᚛ᚒᚖᚒ᚜

Chapter 2: Of Cockatrice and Cooperation

Summary:

In which Changbin deals with some Cockatrice, and does his best not to get himself or anyone else killed

Notes:

I am currently sitting in the airport at LA. I'd like to be home already, actually.

In the meantime, I offer you this chapter for your perusal.

Enjoy.

᚛ᚒᚖᚒ᚜

 

The night air is a lot colder a couple thousand feet in the air.

Wrinkling his nose against the stench that’s wafting up at them, stretching even this far off the ground, Changbin scans the dark crags of the valley, even though he knows he won’t be able to see anything past the smoldering flames. The smoke in his eyes is sharp, acrid. Like burning battery acid with an aftertaste that clings to the back of your throat. It’s impossible to get it off his tongue, and he knows he’ll have a hellish case of dry-eye for several days afterward, so he doesn’t bother trying to do anything about it.

Some problems are the kind of thing you sort out later.

“They really fucked it, didn’t they.” He has to raise his voice over the wind rushing in his ears. “We’re going to be hearing from the ELPA for years about this runoff.”

Where it rests on his shoulder to help steady him, Gahou’s clawed hand tightens. “Aren’t you glad you’re not the one who gets that kind of paperwork?”

“Yeah but Chan-hyung usually has to sign shit.” Squinting through the disaster below, Changbin sucks in a breath through his teeth. He can see the glitter of faded pink energy clinging to the mountains around him, but it looks distressingly thin through the toxic fog. “You sure those barriers are going to hold?”

Gahou’s snort of amusement is audible, even over the air rushing past them and the sound of the man’s beating wings. “You’re lucky Ryujin-hyung isn’t around to hear you say that. He’d eat your heart.”

“Y’know, you all keep telling me he’s going to do that, but I have yet to see him try.” Despite the harness keeping him strapped to the larion above him, Changbin still feels a bit like he’s perpetually caught in a state of free-fall. He’s long since gotten over the swooping feeling of truly horrifying heights, but there are some parts of his animal brain he can’t turn off. “He uses protection magic, he wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

Though he can’t see it, Changbin’s pretty sure Gahou’s reaction is to shrug. “If you insult his wards like that to his face, he’ll figure it out. He’s not just a fairy.”

Anyone with eyes can see Ryujin isn’t just a fairy but he resists the urge to say that. “Sue me for worrying. I just don’t want this getting out. It’d be a bitch to chase them down if they escape.” Looking back down at the mess below them, Changbin wrinkles his nose. “I can’t believe no one noticed the nest. I can’t believe no one noticed the eggs being fertilized. That shit is loud, you would have heard the screeching over half the mountain range.”

“Cockatrice are usually protected in this region.” Something about the hybrid’s tone suggests he actually knows what he’s talking about. Admittedly, Changbin should probably know the details too, but he’d only skimmed the email and had promised he’d be there before Chan could intervene and stop him. Not that he would have, it’s not like anyone else can do this job quite like he can. “Killing one unprovoked carries a hefty fine, and that’s not even mentioning the court date.”

“Great, more paperwork.” Changbin rolls his eyes and reaches up to grip part of his harness, steadying some of the swaying. “You try and get rid of one murderous acid spitting bird, and suddenly the whole damned Bureau is breathing down the back of your neck.” Again, not that he has to deal with it, but he does have to deal with Chan complaining about it. It’s intense second-hand distaste. “Like we aren’t doing a favor for them.”

“Yeonsik will probably take care of most of it.” Gahou says it with a knowing edge to his voice. As if he completely understands that what really matters is that Changbin doesn’t have to wade through the aftermath. “It’s the least we can do after you came all this way out for us.”

“It’s nothing,” Changbin insists, just like he always does. Because it is nothing. A nest of Cockatrice chicks running rampant is a problem, sure, B-class threats aren’t anything to sneeze at, but it’s also one he knows the solution to without a moment’s thought. He could take care of this in his sleep. “I’d rather come help than hear one of you tried to deal with it and didn’t make it out.”

“It’s your specialty,” the larion says magnanimously. “We’d hate to step on any toes.”

Shaking his head, Changbin snorts. “Well that’s a stupid reason. I’m telling you, the six of you-“

“Seven now.” Gahou’s voice is a delighted smile of sharp teeth.

“Right, Hyowon.” Honestly, Changbin has never been able to keep everyone straight. He feels like the various divisions around the world are constantly playing a game of musical chairs, and knowing who is where at any given time is nearly impossible. “The seven of you have the potential to be as dangerous as you want to be. I know containment magic is your thing but it doesn’t have to be your only thing.”

“Oh I know, we do handle things on our own most of the time. But…” The hybrid’s hand comes off of Changbin’s shoulder for a moment so he can gesture vaguely. “Ryujin-hyung said we should bring friends. You’ll be more efficient.”

Grateful for the return of Gahou’s steadying claws, making him feel a little less like a ragdoll in the face of the wind, Changbin smiles thinly. “It’s not hard to be efficient when it’s a kill order.”

As they start descending, wheeling over the ruined town in wide, loose circles, Changbin pats his pockets for his set of binoculars. “How did the evacuations go?” Even with the added magnification, the smoke makes it difficult to pick out details. Still, he’s able to see stretches of ruined houses, forcefully felled trees, and of course, more fire. “Was there much left to evacuate?” 

“About fifty percent of the population?” Stabilizing them out into a gentle glide that rides the waves of hot air still billowing up from below them, Gahou admits, “We didn’t get the call soon enough. By the time the NHII got in touch with us, it was already a disaster. They tried to get local forces to handle it first but… As you can see, it didn’t go well.”

Scowling, Changbin stows the binoculars. He doesn’t have quite the laundry list against the Bureau and their subsidiary organizations that Chan does, but he’s still got plenty to say. Especially when it comes to times like this, where a perfectly peaceful town ends up in ruins because someone decided every I and T needed to be dotted and crossed before a real solution could be contacted. “The least they could have done was make some calls. It wouldn’t be this bad if we’d caught the nest before the eggs hatched.”

“At least we’ve stopped it from getting worse.” Which is the only positive to this, not that Changbin is going to point that out. Despite his earlier comments about the barrier, as they get closer to the ground, he can feel the magic on his skin, keeping the heat to a bearable level, suppressing the worst of the acidic fog drifting skywards. “If we can clean it up, they can send in a reconstruction team and get the village back up and running.”

“If it hasn’t poisoned the water supply,” Changbin mutters, as he starts going through his personal pre-battle checklist.

Adjusting his hold as Changbin goes to check the straps of his protective vest, the larion insists, “You’d be surprised what they can manage these days. Magic is always getting more creative.”

Looking down at what’s left of the town, which is quickly looming closer, Changbin sucks in his cheeks. Chan and Hyunjin could probably manage it with one of their stronger reconstruction rituals, but he doubts any of the paper pushers in the Bureau will bother to do much past clean up the surface damage. For their sake, hopefully that’s all it is. “I’m glad it’s not my job.”

“Ditto.” Gahou lets out a laugh. “I’ll take containment over cleanup any day.”

Changbin would agree, but to be honest he’s never been in containment. He’s been in eliminations since he joined the Non-Human Incident Investigator branch of the Bureau seventeen years ago. It’s not a role he sought out, but it’s definitely one that found him. From the moment he fell into it at the tender age of twenty, it’s been the job that suited him best. The tracking down and then dealing with dangerous, violent humanoid and non-humanoid creatures that had, for one reason or another, gone off the deep end.

Distantly, he remembers his first kill. It had been something simple. A feral werewolf. Usually, a task like that would have been handled by local law enforcement. It hardly registered as a D-class threat, it didn’t need a hunter to be called in. But the werewolf had escaped captivity once, and had been on the run. So his team of newbies had gotten the call, and the job had been shifted to him.

Just a newbie, but Changbin nailed the creature between the eyes without a second thought. Never mind the month of nightmares that followed it, never mind the fact that his next door neighbor growing up had been a werewolf, and the girl’s face had been the only thing he’d seen when he’d pulled the trigger. He’d still made the shot, and was still here. Because, as everyone knew, someone had to do it. And while every hunter was trained to kill, some people were just better suited to it than others.

It’s easier now. The hesitation stopped about a decade and change ago, the nightmares no longer feature quite as many dead eyes and vacant expressions. He’s faster, he’s more accurate, and he’s confident in what he’s doing. His is a bloody and unpleasant job, but when he gets on a train, or loads himself back into a plane, Changbin knows there’s a home waiting for him, and he knows his team won’t look at him differently for what he does, because they’ve all done it to at one point or another.

That is as good as he’ll likely ever get.

He’s a monster hunter, and that’s a life he chose for himself.

“We’ve got Seunghyun and Yuchen on the ground already.” Gahou’s voice cracks through Changbin’s thoughts, and he brings himself back into the present. “Yeonsik should be there too, since he wasn’t back with Ryujin-hyung. He’ll know more about the immediate situation when we land.”

“What about you?” As they get closer, Changbin’s hands flit over the various pockets that dot his outfit. Two combat knives, a spray bottle of holy water, seven extra magazines… One of which holds sliver bullets, and another of which holds wood. There are all manner of other odds and ends on his body. A med kit, a waterproof phone, three smoke grenades- not that he’ll need them here- and a vial of void-black liquid simply labeled emergencies.

“I’ve got perimeter duty.” They’re nearing the ground now. Changbin makes a point of averting his eyes as the hybrid swoops lower, cutting close to the husks of the trees that once dotted the outskirts of the town. “Sijun and I will be there when you need to be extracted, but until then we’ve got some magic to keep stable.”

“Right, I’m sure Yeonsik-ssi has the standard issue flare gun.” Changbin’s only half listening; the rest of his attention is elsewhere, checking the last piece of equipment he’s got on him that matters.

It’s a handgun, but calling it that feels like visiting upon her the highest dishonor. She’s a beautiful, custom piece, something a bit like a Desert Eagle even though he’d been told numerous times there were better styles to go after. He loves the look though, her sleek burnished lines and her familiar grip, and the worn piece of blue tape around the pinky grip that used to remind him how to hold her, but now serves as a groove to fall into. 

She could have been his most flashy piece of equipment, but Changbin keeps her simple. Practical above all else.

When he pulls the weapon out, he’s putting his life in her hands, just as much as he’s putting the lives of anything nearby him in his own.

He calls her Gloria. Jisung still makes fun of him for it.

Changbin has been mocked before, using a gun when there are so many other weapons typically favored by hunters. People stick to tradition above all else, and there’s something deeply traditional in mysticism. Blades and scythes and strange contraptions made of rare materials. Magic and hexes and ancient rituals in dead languages most have forgotten exist. These were supposed to be the tools of a hunter, whether anyone says it aloud or not.

His fellow teammates seem to agree with this sentiment. Jisung is a jack of all trades; he’s been known to use just about anything as a weapon, but he favors the enchanted dagger that Seungmin gave him when they started working together. Impractical? Yes, but apparently the stylishness is worth the compromise.

Chan exclusively uses magic. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen the older hunter hold a physical weapon in his life, but he can wield the energy that's been tattooed into his blood more competently than most people born with it, and he knows his rituals better than he knows what a healthy sleep schedule is. Is it limiting? Quite often, but it’s a compromise he makes because he thinks the magic is gentler.

There’s nothing wrong with either of those methods, and in fact, most people prefer the pomp and circumstance. The gravitas. Just enough mysticism to take on a monster, like back in the old days when humans and non-humans were at constant war. But he doesn’t have anything like that. Wouldn’t really know what to do with something magic if it were handed to him. He just has Gloria.

It turns out, while non-humans are immune to a lot of things, most of them aren’t immune to bullets. And depending on the conditions he’s under, he can hit a target accurately from three-hundred yards.

Not the best shot the organization has ever had, probably, but the best one in living memory.

She’s a better partner than Changbin usually has. Always there, mechanical and comprehensible, not asking him difficult questions or forcing him to meet unreasonable demands. All he has to do is keep Gloria clean, and she’ll work like a charm.

Sliding her back into her holster, Changbin glances above him at Gahou. “Anything else I should know before I’m in the thick of it?”

“Other than the usual?” Effortlessly gliding through the remains of an old cobbled street, the hybrid audibly smiles. “Try not to die. We’re the ones who have to answer to Chan-ssi if you do.”

“Right.” Changbin snorts. “Got it.”

Clicking the release for his harness, Changbin drops to the ground, gritting his teeth against the impact. Gahou touches down a second later, his large, feathered wings folding up tight against his back as he does. “They should be near the town hall,” the hybrid informs him, his large feline ears swiveling as he no doubt tries to get a read on his companions’ positions. “It’s the big stone one. You can’t miss it.” When he smiles, sharp teeth prick at his bottom lip. “I’ve got some magic fields to reinforce, but good luck.”

Changbin goes to return the sentiment, but the larion is already taking flight, using the natural heat of the smoke to send him spiraling skywards. The wind buffets his face, kicking up dirt and acidic fog into his eyes, but he still watches until the man’s form has become nothing but a smudged outline above him. Deciding Gahou can take care of himself, the hunter gives his equipment one last run-through before turning to follow the issued instructions.

It’s not hard to find the town hall, it’s one of the only buildings still left mostly intact. Soot streaks up the already dark stone, and acid has pot-marked it to hell and back, but it’s still standing, and it’s easy enough to find the back way in. Because while the thing has been barricaded against giant terrifying serpent chickens, it hasn’t been made to keep humans out.

“Shit, I thought the cavalry would never show up.” Yuchen tumbles out of one of the side rooms, his eyes sparking and acid green magic already lifting off of the runes tattooed into his forearms. “Did we already lose Gahou-hyung?”

“Only stuck around long enough to drop me off.” Striding into the trashed building, skirting overturned tables and smashed bookshelves, Changbin peers through one open doorway, then the next. “I was told there would be more people.”

“Yeah, they’re in the other room. You’re the one who’s late.” Falling into step beside Changbin, directing him towards the front of the building, the younger hunter flashes a smile that's at least eighty-percent teeth. “How was the flight down here.”

“Hot.” Changbin chuckles mirthlessly. “Burned a bit.”

“Ooh, you might want to get that checked out,” Yuchen quips. “You should have been here before Seunghyun got his magic up and working. Place was hotter than balls. Smelled like it too. You think it’s bad now?” Shaking his head, he barks out a laugh. “Man, I hate cockatrice.”

“Remind me again why they’re a protected species?”

“Because,” Yeonsik calls patiently as the two of them step into the front room. “They’ve been hovering on the brink of endangerment for the past thousand years, and it’s not their fault their natural habitat has been encroached on.”

“Right, I’ll make sure to remember that when I’m killing them,” Changbin promises.

Yeonsik’s team has the place stocked like they’ve been here for a couple of days already. There are provisions shoved into a corner, someone has set up a couple of cots, and there’s a game of checkers happening on an overturned box next to the scattered folder of official orders. The logo of the NHII stares up at him from it, the clasped hands over the simple spiral. 

Changbin can easily see the beating this place took before they showed up, probably even after they showed up if this has been the siege the email suggested it was. Every inch of the floor is dotted with holes and blackened by ash. The horrific claw marks around the door-frames only add to the ambiance, and the stench of burned flesh rolls through the building in waves.

But it looks safe enough. Especially with Yeonsik lounged by the door, and Seunghyun bandaging one clawed hand. 

Without a second thought, Changbin strides into the room, offering the other men a quick nod as he does so. “How are things looking out there?”

Straightening, Yeonsik swings himself to his feet and ambles over to the map that’s been crudely pinned to one of the filthy walls. “Well, they’ve completely taken over the residential area. We’ve managed to hold town proper for a few days now, but that doesn’t mean much. They’ve already fledged so it’s been… Frustrating.”

Changbin winces. “Great, just what we need. Any tracking magic or are we going in blind.”

Raising a lazy talon, Seunghyun turns vivid orange eyes on Changbin. “I’ve tagged every one we’ve come across.” Despite the smoke and the acid, the dragon’s voice is smooth and as calm as ever. “So far that’s six of them. With another three already taken care of.”

Doing the math in his head, huffing as he’s forced to remember useless facts like average clutch rates among western cockatrice, Changbin furrows his brows. “So we probably have a couple unaccounted for. Plus the matriarch. Plus the rooster.” Which, now that he says it out loud, seems like a rather hefty task.

“Seems like it.” Yeonsik bows his head with an easy smile. “We wouldn’t have called you in if we didn’t need the help.”

“Oh, you just called him in because Ryujin-hyung didn’t want to get shit on his new clothes,” Yuchen complains loudly, going over to help Seunghyun with his bandages. “It’s okay hyung, you don’t have to sugar coat it for him.”

Chagrined, Yeonsik glances away. “Someone has to hold the barrier. There are two towns within twenty-five miles. You know protocol.”

Snorting, Changbin waves the excuses away. “Seungmin is the same way about being damp. Can’t take him anywhere humid, he’ll refuse point-blank.”

As some of the embarrassment clears up from Yeonsik’s face, he starts gearing up. “Ryujin is finicky but he gets the job done. As long as we’re able to find the things, and trust me, it hasn’t been hard, then we shouldn’t have to do any mop up afterwards.” Considering the game of making sure nothing has escaped is usually half the battle, Changbin isn’t about to complain.

Watching as heavy chains fall from Yeonsik’s shoulders to wrap around his wrists, Changbin pulls out his own gun, keeping her pointed at the ground. “So what’s the plan? Dividing and conquering?”

“Do you have any shielding magic?” Seunghyun asks, stretching as he gets to his feet. His scaled arms seem to glimmer, even with the lack of ambient light around. “What about an amulet? Any spells from your phoenix?”

Changbin winces. He probably should have asked Hyunjin for some help before he wandered his way out into the middle of nowhere, but he hadn’t thought of it. Mostly because he didn’t absolutely need the assistance to do his job. “I can figure it out. A good old-fashioned blindfold never hurt anyone.”

But Yeonsik is already shaking his head, as dark copper magic starts to drip down over his arms like water. As it sinks over the chains, the links start to stretch and distort. Thickening and becoming heavy with power. “I’ve got enough of Ryujin’s magic on me for both of us. As long as you stick close to me, we’ll be fine.”

Oh fantastic. “Doesn’t that defeat the purpose?” Looking doubtfully at the young leader, Changbin gestures at the map with his free hand. “We’ve got a lot of ground to cover. If we’re just going to stay bunched up, why am I here?”

Sympathetically, Yuchen slings an arm around Changbin’s shoulders. The faint green aura around the man makes his nose itch. “I already tried that argument. But no, Yeonsik-hyung insists on pairs. Even if you’ve got magic.”

It seems like bullshit, but Changbin bites his tongue. He’s not the hunter in charge here, he knows better than to make this any more difficult than it needs to be. Especially when they’re gearing up to face half a flock of Cockatrice. “Fine.” Rolling his shoulders, shaking Yuchen off of him, Changbin checks the magazine in Gloria before giving Yeonsik a level stare. “I’ll figure it out.” 

Like he has a choice.

“Great!” Yeonsik’s expression brightens. “Seunghyun and Yuchen are handling clearing up the southern end of this town. They’ve got a bead on at least four of those chickens, and we expect there to be more. You and I are headed north to find the matriarch.”

That’s something Changbin is willing to handle. As long as the other hunter is willing to take care of himself and doesn’t want to make this something weird, he’ll figure out a crotchety cockatrice. “I take it you all have mirrors? Just in case?”

Raising a talon, Seunghyun easily constructs a mirroring illusion in the air before him. With a grin, Yuchen repeats the same thing, conjuring up a reflection without a second thought. Though he hasn’t turned around yet, Changbin can only assume Yeonsik has produced similar. Which is fine but there’s a reason he can only stand so much magic at once. And this particular branch of the NHII is up to their eyeballs in it.

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Changbin reaches into a pocket and pulls out an actual mirror. “In that case, I guess all that’s left is the go ahead.”

Less than five minutes later, Changbin is back out in the smoke and the acidic fog, Yeonsik close at heel.

It’s been a while since he’s worked with the man and not just a pair from his team. The last time was somewhere deep in the desert, and he tries not to think about how that particular ancient curse had gone. Thankfully for all parties involved, Yeonsik looks better now. Marginally less possessed. He’s still using those impractical chains, twineing around his biceps and wrapping around his fists like a second skin, but the magic on them is different, sharper, almost like…

“You’ve been getting on well with Ryujin-ssi.” Even though they’re only now hitting the outskirts of the town, he keeps his voice low. Cockatrice don’t have legendary hearing, but the echo in the valley is offensively bad.

Suppressing a cough, Yeonsik tips his head back and forth in place of waving a hand. “I mean, he’s a good asset. Yuchen complains, but he likes Ryujin too.” There’s something about his voice that shifts when he quietly adds, “We all do.”

“Right.” The crags of the dark stone reach long fingers up to tangle around them, and the number of dark crevices is far from settling. “No shame if it doesn’t work out. The Bureau juggles people every day. All it takes is a couple of forms.”

“No, I-“ Pulling a face, like he bit into a familiarly sour fruit, the other hunter draws level with him, easily matching Changbin’s stride with his much longer legs. “We’re a good fit. He really- you were there for the last partner I had, this isn’t-“

Holding up a hand, Changbin cuts him off before the conversation can turn awkward. “I meant all of that with complete sincerity. If you think this is me trying to pry into something, don’t. I just mentioned it because that’s a lot of fae magic you’re wielding.”

“It’s keeping you safe,” Yeonsik points out, visibly relaxing.

Glancing at the vaguely pink magic that’s shimmering over his own skin, Changbin gives a grudging nod. Even though he has to stay close to Yeonsik to use it, the cloaking spell on him is powerful. It’s enough to distort what’s on the outside just enough to make eye contact with the murder hen  -or rooster, if they come across it first- not immediately deadly. Which, as any hunter would tell you, is the real problem with killing these birds.

One look from a fully matured cockatrice has enough magic in it to stop your heart if you aren’t careful. The last two times he’s had to tackle something like this, Changbin has just used a blindfold. Annoying, yes, but it had worked out just fine, he’d made it out with only minor acid burns. Now, he’s got the safer, more reliable method, and he’s in the process of convincing himself he prefers it.

Quietly, Yeonsik mutters, “But it is better, you know? He looks out for the others, and he’s been a lot of help with Hyowon. I was a little concerned when I first looked at his records, but I think we all do that when the Bureau pushes someone new on us.”

It takes Changbin a second to realize they’re still on the topic of Ryujin and he suppresses the desire to wince. I mean, technically I was the one who brought it up. Keeping his eyes focused on the thin animal trails up the side of the mountain, Changbin looks for something to say that will actually end the conversation. “I’m glad he’s not causing problems.”

“It’s nice having a partner again.”

Changbin’s jaw tightens.

Thankfully for his sanity, there’s an unholy screeching sound from somewhere behind them, and that’s generally more important. Especially when there’s a belch of acid that splatters towards them, forcing them both to roll out of the way. Body armor absorbing the brunt of the impact, Changbin is on one knee and bringing his gun around without a second thought.

Even through the haze of magic, the creature is huge, a beast of feathers and scales that reaches at least several meters into the air as it stretches its neck and lets out another bellowing cry. Calling it a chicken isn’t technically incorrect, the features are definitely there, but very few chickens have a distinctly draconic lower half, and talons that leave gouges in solid rock. And oh, let’s not forget that breath.

As another cloud of acid is belched in his direction, Changbin is forced to his feet and further up the mountain. There’s not much to hide behind besides rocks and some half-melted shrubbery, but as long as he’s moving, he has a better chance of surviving. From the corner of his eye, he can see a blaze of magic from Yeonsik’s direction as he lunges in the other direction, avoiding the cockatrice’s massive snapping beak. Which means, at least, that the other hunter is surviving as well.

Without the time to get a proper bead on the creature, Changbin turns and fires off a shot, clipping the creature in the wing. Screeching, a deafening sound that rolls down the mountain, it tries to spread its wings, revealing the combination of fresh leathery skin and patchy feathers that marks it as a baby. Just a baby, and already this big. What the fuck are they putting in the water?

As the creature wheels to face him, Changbin changes direction. He can see the creature’s whip-like tail slicing through the air already, and he’s gotten gut-punched by enough of similar that he really doesn’t want to get in its way. Which leaves him the options of getting up close and personal between the cockatrice’s legs, or going further up the mountain, and both options seem equally-

Abruptly, the murder-chicken lurches forward as its scaly legs give out on it. Confused, Changbin shoots a look down to find heavy, copper chains twining up the creature’s available limbs. Oh right, I’ve got help.  

Well that makes it significantly easier. Using the resulting chaos to his advantage, Changbin lines his sights up with the back of the cockatrice’s horrible feathered head and pulls the trigger. Once, then twice.

Letting out a garbled sound from deep in its long throat, the creature pitches forward, still thrashing even as it dies.

“Let me guess,” Yeonsik calls with a grin, as the chains return to wrap around his hands. “You had that just fine.”

“Well now that you mention it-“ Skidding down the rock face, Changbin dusts himself off and stifles a sneeze when magic gets up his nose. “You’ve gotten better with those chains.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Grin growing, despite the mud on his face and the handful of new scratches he’s acquired, Yeonsik presses his chain-covered fists together. As he does, a burst of bright pink fae magic answers him and settles over them both. “You could say they like me better these days.”

Changbin just shrugs and turns back to the direction the cockatrice came from. “Whatever it takes.”

Without waiting for Yeonsik’s say so, he turns to the mountain and begins climbing. It’s a steep incline, and there’s no clear path, but he’s got something better to follow. Granted, Changbin doesn’t have the best tracking skills in the business, but it’s a little difficult to miss the trail of a Cockatrice. The talon marks in the surrounding stone is a bit of a give away. 

Hurrying to catch up, Yeonsik calls, “Where are you going?” When Changbin doesn’t stop, he lets out a sound from the back of his throat. “We don’t know that’s where the rest of them are roosting.”

 “Are you going to let us split up?” Changbin narrows his eyes against the fog as he smoothly stalks forward through the ruined underbrush.

“Well no, but-”

“Then we’re going this way.” 

Huffing, the other hunter draws level and side eyes Changbin pointedly. The smile from before has melted away. “Cockatrice don’t usually use pack tactics. This isn’t the ground we should be covering.” Despite his words, he keeps his voice low, like he’s waiting for something else to attack them. Which is good because it probably will.

“Adult cockatrice don’t use pack tactics,” Changbin corrects, as he makes note of several fallen feathers. “These aren’t adults, these are still chicks. Which means where there’s one, there are probably more, and if we’re lucky, the nest itself.” It’s been ages since those lectures on mountain beasts and their habits, but it’s not the first time he’s hunted this particular creature. At the risk of stepping on someone’s toes, he’d rather be efficient.

Clearly trying to figure out how to be diplomatic, Yeonsik draws ahead of him. “You haven’t been on the ground with us until today.” Wheeling on him, the younger hunter attempts to redirect him with a flair of magic, forcing Changbin to pause long enough to make eye-contact. It works, if only for a moment. “These aren’t chicks anymore, they’re basically adults. The most we’ve found in the same place is two at a time.”

Which in Changbin’s opinion, should have been information he was given at the beginning. Stopping, keeping his pistol trained at the ground beside them, he keeps scanning their surroundings as he talks. “Have you located the nest?”

“Well, no, not yet.”

Unfortunate, because that would truly prove Yeonsik’s assumptions one way or another, but Changbin isn’t out of questions. “Have you seen the matriarch?”

Wincing, Yeonsik admits, “Not yet, but we’ve seen the rooster.”

“Got it.” Changbin briefly stops his scanning of their surroundings to fix the other hunter with a hard stare. “So what you’re telling me is you don’t actually know what stage in their development these things are.”

Yeonsik’s answering expression is just as stiff. “I don’t think we should be arguing right now.”

“I agree.” Curbing the burst of frustration that fills him, Changbin neatly side-steps the man. “If you want to keep sweeping this whole damn place, be my guest, but I’m going to find the nest. With or without you.”

Is this a shot in the dark? Admittedly, yes. Changbin doesn’t know any more about these scaly birds than Yeonsik does, and he potentially knows a lot less, but he’s seen one of them. He can judge feather development and scaling patterns as well as the next hunter, and despite the size of the creature, he isn’t convinced it fledged recently enough to be fully classified as an adult within its own species. Which means its mother is probably still near the nest, and the rooster probably won’t be far away.

To risk an on the nose saying, it’ll be killing two birds with one stone.

Regrettably, Yeonsik refuses to be as practical about it. “Look, I realize you’ve been in the business longer, but a power struggle isn’t going to help us.” Changbin rolls his eyes. Newer hunters always make everything so much more complicated than it needs to be. Admittedly, newer is relative, it’s been at least seven years since Yeonsik graduated, but he’s trying to cut the man some slack “You’re going to pull out of range of my magic.”

“Lucky for me, I brought a blindfold.” The underbrush here is getting thicker, but most of it has been flattened under foot. “You’re the one who wanted to work in pairs. I really don’t see how this is my problem.”

“I’m the one who called for your help in the first place!” Yeonsik still hasn’t moved. With every step, Changbin can feel the man’s magic slipping off of him, like water off oil. “Changbin-ssi, please-”

“Exactly, you called me, so let me do my-“

An ear-splitting shriek fills the air, and the flash of a dragon’s tail whips around a corner. Without a second thought, Changbin darts forward, eyes where the thing’s feet will be and Gloria already coming up to aim at another one of these cockatrice. Swearing loudly behind him, calling for him to stop, Yeonsik dashes after him, as their argument momentarily ceases to matter.

Despite the difference in their height, Changbin is faster. Easily pulling ahead of the other hunter, his hands go for the pocket he stashed his mirror and blindfold in. That’s always the problem with tracking these things. You either have to have magic, or you need to play the dangerous game of keeping your vision clear for as long as you dare without getting caught. Thankfully, there’s not much to track when he has the beast in front of him.

He could shoot now and take the fledgling out, but he’s hoping to be led back to the nest, or at least to more of the damn creatures. It’s another risk he’s taking, but he’s got his gaze fixed on the middle distance, and he’s got his blindfold on hand. As long as he’s careful, he should be-

“Changbin-ssi!”

The cockatrice turns.

Ah fuck.  

Swiftly, Changbin rolls to the side, throwing himself into what remains of the underbrush. Bringing up his weapon, he fires two shots where he last saw the cockatrice. There’s an unhappy shriek, but it’s immediately followed by the sounds of taloned feet. Still alive then. Fantastic. Beating a swift retreat, Changbin takes off through the bushes, keeping low in an attempt to make himself a smaller target.

The nest must be nearby. The detritus of a cockatrice population is incredibly easy to spot, and there’s enough baby down sticking in the ruined trees to make a mattress out of. He would feel vindicated, but he’s too busy zigzagging to confuse the monster behind him. If he’s lucky, Yeonsik will get his act together and take care of the problem while its attention is focused elsewhere. If he’s unlucky, then this is going to be a little more complicated. 

Does he realize the other hunter’s shielding magic would be useful right about now? Yes. But maybe this will be a lesson to everyone in paying attention when he says something. And it won’t be the first time I’ve dealt with these creatures without magic.

He smells the mouth of the cave before he sees it, that tell-tale stench of rotting flesh and acid. Resisting the urge to cough, Changbin changes direction, trying to skirt around to the opening in the rock without simply barreling straight in. Noise is filling the air around him, not just the bird behind him, but the sounds of stirring limbs ahead of him. The matriarch would be a blessing, but Changbin isn’t going to count his chickens before he’s shot them.

Throwing himself against the rock face, crouching down to make himself a smaller target, he listens carefully. The stomping footfalls behind him are still there but… No, the cockatrice chasing him hasn’t gotten closer in a while, so maybe Yeonsik finally figured his shit out. Which leaves the scrape of claws ahead of him, which sound too heavy to be another chick. Allowing himself a grin, Changbin reaches for his blindfold.

It could be said that he is a lot of things. Uncooperative, prickly. Maybe even rude. But absolutely no one can call him bad at his job.

With only vague shapes to guide him, Changbin points his gun at the rock face and fires a shot to draw the attention of whatever is inside the cave. As shards of rock rain down, there’s an almost musical cry from inside the cave, woven with a second, much more shrill scream. Not using pack tactics my ass. You just weren’t close enough to the nest.  

Even through the blindfold, the adult male cockatrice is an intimidating creature. It’s easily two stories tall, with a wingspan that’s slightly less impressive but enough to briefly blot out the light of the moon. Its lower half is more gargoyle-esque than that of the chicks, scaled and covered in sharp spines. Changbin can’t make out the creature’s coloration, but he can see the way its chicken head puffs up in an array of feathers and quills. As it opens its beak, no doubt to spit acid in his direction, his mouth twitches up into a smirk. It might be fast, but his trigger finger will always be faster.

As he pulls, something sharp and hard catches him across the ribs and the shot goes wide.

For a split second, as Changbin flies through the air, he thinks it might have been one of Yeonsik’s chains responsible. By the time he’s come crashing back to the ground however and is rolling back to his feet, he realizes it’s just another cockatrice. Well shit, better than average clutch, I guess.

So now he’s got at least three of them to deal with at once, but that’s alright. It’s nothing he can’t handle. Even as the other fledgling comes stalking out of the cave, its feathered wings already half-extended. All he’s got are blurry shapes and his sense of hearing, but that should be plenty. As long as he buckles down and doesn’t lose focus, the worst he’ll come out of this with is a few bruises.

Changbin isn’t sure when B class level threats became so thoroughly non-threatening, but he imagines it happened somewhere around the point where he realized that fundamentally, he was doing this on his own. Not just this mission, though he still doesn’t know where Yeonsik has gone off to, but just in general. Because once you came to terms with the endless cycle of partners coming and going, you started to judge situations differently. You start to become hyper aware of exactly where your limits are.

Cockatrice up in the mountains are bad, sure, but he’s already rolling away from a gout of acid and aiming for one of the fledglings’ center of mass, as calm as can be. Now if this was a little more deadly, then I might be worried.  

As the shot connects, the creature stumbles back, screaming its displeasure to the sky. Gritting his teeth, knowing he's probably going to pay for this in a second, Changbin takes the moment to aim again, this time for the fuzzy shape he assumes is the head. Despite the blindfold and the darkness and the general chaos of the situation, his shot lands. Definitely not the most flawless kill shot, and he can’t even confirm it is a kill shot, but the cockatrice still goes down.

And in the next second, a razor-sharp beak catches him in the back and has him falling to his knees.

He lunges out of the way of the second part of that, the bird bringing its head down with the intent to spear him through, but his body protests the action angrily. Because fuck, body armor aside, that’s going to leave a nasty mark. The blindfold starts to slip as he gets a face-full of rock and mud, but he ignores it for the time being as he forces himself to his feet and throws himself deeper into what remains of the local flora. 

Currently, he’s got two of the monsters on his tail. Possibly three if the matriarch decides to rear her ugly head. And that’s a possibility he should be ready for, because he hasn’t exactly been playing this stealthily. At the very least, he needs to take out the rooster before that happens, because dealing with two adults at the same time is going to be hell. Gritting his teeth, he fires blindly behind him at the advancing cockatrice and gets splashed with acid for his trouble as one of them belches in his direction.

At least where there’s some cover, he has the advantage. He might not be able to see the creatures clearly, or where he’s going for that matter, but they can’t see him either. A few branches to the face aren’t going to kill him, and he’s much more agile than a couple of overgrown chickens.

Very overgrown. I’m going to have to write up a report about this, aren’t I?

That’s a ‘later him’ problem.

The ground behind him trembles as the cockatrice chase him. Judging based on the footfalls and the quick glances he’s tossed behind him, the rooster is in the lead, with the fledging trailing close behind. If he pauses to take a good shot now, he can probably take out one of them, but both is going to be a stretch. What he needs is some actual cover, and maybe two seconds to breathe.

A beak snaps at his heels, close enough that he feels it tear at the back of his coat.

Okay, I can make do with one second.

Quickly, he analyzes the situation. He can keep running in the hopes he finds a better vantage to get off a shot, with the knowledge that in the next minute or less, he’s going to end up as cockatrice food if he fails. Or he can cut out that minute of running and try to get behind at least one of these creatures, which will likely put him between them, but it’ll give him a good shot at the rooster. Neither option is fantastic, but he’s been doing alright so far, and he’s in a betting mood.

Besides, isn’t it moments like these that make the job thrilling?

Twisting, using the mud under his feet to help turn him swiftly, Changbin ducks under the blurry shape coming for his face and hits the ground in a slide. If it weren’t for the leg armor he’s wearing, the move would have torn his lower body to shreds. As it is, he sucks in a breath against the rock biting into him and slips between the cockatrice’s knobbly legs. 

Something catches on his blindfold and pulls it up over his forehead. Suddenly faced with a perfect view of the rooster’s underbelly, Changbin makes the executive decision to take the advantage handed to him. Swinging Gloria up, he fires three times. Twice through the breastbone, once into the joint of one of its knees.

If it weren’t for the fact he’s still moving, he would have been sprayed by the creature’s highly corrosive blood. Thankfully, Changbin’s already stumbling to his feet as the rooster pitches forward, still spitting out acid and crowing bloody murder at the sky. These kinds of creatures never do know how to die quietly, and it’s a trick to duck out of the way of the thing’s tail as it thrashes it, destroying anything and everything in its path as its body shuts down.

He would have put one more bullet through it’s brain, just as a mercy if nothing else, but it occurs to him a moment later that his blindfold is still out of place, and there’s still a fledgling behind him and- Oh yeah, right.

Changbin has the reflexes to avoid the creature’s beak taking his head off. What he doesn’t have the speed to avoid is the way he’s seized by the back of his torn jacket and lifted bodily into the air.

For a moment, everything spins around him as the world pitches wildly. He’s still got his gun in his hand, but he’s facing the wrong way and his brain is in the process of being scrambled. The blindfold that was on his forehead flies away into the night air, and oh fuck, he needs to reload. Preferably before he ends up dashed to pieces against the nearest hard surface.

If he makes it out of this alive, he’s getting better protective gear.

As everything pitches in his vision and the ground suddenly looms closer, there’s a strangled cry from behind him, followed by a sudden lack of beak in his back. Which would be fine and dandy, if he weren’t already moving so fast. Spitting out several curses, switching languages when the ones he has don’t feel severe enough, Changbin forces himself to tuck and roll. His ribs groan with the impact, and he swears his shoulder threatens to dislocate, but at least it’s not his skull being dashed to pieces. And in the next two heartbeats, he’s skidding to a stop and coming up on one knee.

Though he has absolutely no idea what’s happening, he’s not about to waste this moment’s respite to try and figure it out. Changbin is in the process of reloading and closing his eyes when the chill-inducing wave of pins and needles hits him. A second later, he registers the itch of magic, and it’s only then that he brings his head up.

Blessedly familiar chains are wrapped around the cockatrice’s throat, slowly choking the life from it. Behind it, boots skidding through the mud and muscles straining against the creature’s thrashing, is Yeonsik. He’s covered in toxic blood that’s steaming off of his skin, he’s dripping pink and copper magic, and he’s got a god awful bruise already forming across his face, but he’s alive. Which is good, because he’s currently the only one between Changbin and that cockatrice lunging forward and tearing him to pieces.

Gloria’s fresh magazine clicks home.

“If you’re going to take the shot, I’d do it now!” Yeonsik hollers, as the magic surging around him rises up to strengthen the chains further.

As he stares down his pistol’s sights, Changbin mutters, “Already way ahead of you.”

The shot nails the feathered fiend between the eyes, piercing its skull and sending corrosive goop splattering the area behind it. Lurching back with the force of the shot, the cockatrice almost crushes Yeonsik as it collapses to the ground. Luckily for him, his reflexes are good enough to spare him the worst of it. Still, there’s a lovely sizzling sound as pink sparks bloom around him in an attempt to guard him against the worst of the blood.

Chains finally dropping from around the beast’s throat, Yeonsik heaves in a visible breath and shakes his matted bangs out of his eyes. Dragging himself to his feet, Changbin gives an eye to the worst of his injuries. It’s nothing that won’t heal. The acid burns won’t be fun, but he’s definitely had worse. Unfortunately, when he pulls in a deep breath, a stabbing pain lances through his torso. Hopefully just bruised ribs and not broken ones…

“Right so,” Jabbing a finger in the younger hunter’s direction, Changbin flatly states, “When I say ‘they’re this way’ next time-“

Yeonsik’s chain’s snake back to wrap around his arms. “You’ll wait for me so you don’t nearly become bird food?”

Pulling a face, Changbin checks Gloria for any damage, using it as an excuse to look away. Thankfully, she hasn’t suffered from any obvious corrosion yet, but he should probably clean her off sooner rather than later. “We need to work on your timing when it comes to helping out, but…”

“Considering you were about to be turned into roadkill, I think my timing is just fine.” Drawing in a breath, Yeonsik shifts his shoulders, sending his chains clanking as he does. “That being said-”

Meeting each other’s eyes, an understanding passes between the two hunters. This could be an argument, or it could be a mutual agreement that they’d both made less than optimal choices and paid the price in their own way. Considering the fact they’re probably still hovering on the brink of imminent danger, a few concessions on either side won’t hurt anyone.

Yeonsik gives Changbin a thin smile. Changbin responds with a stout nod.

Falling into place beside each other, Yeonsik sweeps their surroundings with a careful eye. “So the matriarch?”

“No sign of her yet, but-“ As a shadow falls over the two of them, Changbin looks to the sky and finds himself grinning. “Well I was going to say it wouldn’t take long, but I guess she beat me to it.”

The cockatrice matriarch is huge, easily the size of a wyvern, and just about as ugly. Though she’s not as colorful as roosters tend to be, she’s still got an impressive array of red and orange plumage that fades almost flawlessly into yellow scales. Between the quills and the claws and the whip-like tail that thrashes angrily in the moonlight, you’d think she’d be plenty threatening. Especially with the deadly magic dripping from her eyes and the acid staining her beak. But, fun fact, adult female cockatrice have another tool in their arsenal.

Yeonsik only has the time to throw a fist over their heads and let out a burst of copper magic before a gout of fire is being spat down on them from above. Even with his shielding, the heat is enough to leave both of them steaming and struggling to breathe. And it just keeps coming, like the creature has an endless supply of flammable chemicals stored in her belly.

“Can you get a good shot?” Yeonsik demands as his knees start to bend under the force of it.

Changbin shoots him an incredulous look. “Like this? Maybe?”

As the chains around Yeonsik’s arm start to glow brighter, he lets out a harsh curse before demanding, “Move!”

Unlike before, Changbin actually tries to cooperate. Getting an arm around the other hunter’s waist in an attempt to help support him, he drags them both forward, forcing them to get out of the line of fire. At least for a second. The cockatrice manages to follow them for a moment, the flames still licking at their heels, but they’ve got a slightly better range of motion, and briefly, the heat abates.

“I can’t do that again.” Coughing as toxic smoke, thick and heavy, presses in around them both, Yeonsik doubles over. “I- that magic will tear me apart.” As the cockatrice stops belching flame for a moment so she can scream bloody murder above them, the younger hunter looks to Changbin. “Shoot her.”

Changbin wants to, but past the vague shadows above them, his line of sight is absolutely shit. “Can you bring her closer?”

“What?” Yeonsik demands, his voice cracking around the edges. “You want her-”

“Yes!” Cutting the man off, Changbin points his gun skyward and grits his teeth. “Use those fancy fucking chains of yours to drag her down and I’ll take care of the rest.”

As another gout of flame lights up the ground nearby and they’re both forced to sprint away before they’re singed to hunter-shaped crisps, Yeonsik curses again before bringing his fists together. “This better work.” Chains sparking with magic, he points in the direction of the flying cockatrice. At once, they snake upward, shooting forward like they’d been fired from a canon.

For a moment, Changbin doesn’t think they’re going to connect. That worry is dashed a second later as the matriarch screeches above them and Yeonsik is almost yanked off his feet. Seeing it happen in slow motion, Changbin loops an arm around the man’s waist and braces his feet against the nearest sturdy looking jut of rock. Briefly, he feels them both go weightless as the cockatrice overpowers them, then bright pink light dances around Yeonsik, and the chains visibly swell with power.

The added weight has the cockatrice suddenly plummeting, as its relatively weak wings fail to keep it aloft. It’s still spitting flame and acid in equal measure, but it also has the creature looming into view as it cuts through the smoke and fog. Which is all Changbin needs to get a good bead on it.

Risking loosening his hold on Yeonsik for a moment, he braces his arm against the man’s shoulder and pulls the trigger.

The first shot just makes the thing angry, but he’s got a full magazine and a perfect line of sight. The second bullet pierces its neck, finally cutting off the chemicals spewing from its mouth. The third bullet buries itself into its chest feathers, instantly sending blood splattering down over the scorched ground. Finally, the fourth shot catches it in one of its terrible eyes. 

As its wings ultimately lose the ability to flap, the cockatrice plummets, crashing to the ground in an absolute cacophony of metal and bone. In the abrupt silence, both hunters stand motionless for a long moment, before Yeonsik’s knees give out on him and Changbin forgoes feeling victorious for keeping the man from landing face first in the mud. 

Checking to make sure the man isn’t immediately bleeding out, Changbin rolls Yeonsik over and offers him a half smile. “That was a lot of magic, huh?”

“Flare gun is in the right pocket,” the man mutters deliriously as the chains around his fists thin out into something a lot more supernatural and less physical. “Good luck.”

Mercifully, that ends up being the last cockatrice on this side of the mountain. Which is convenient, because Yeonsik passes out on him for a good ten minutes before finally finding consciousness again. Even then, his legs won’t work well enough for Changbin to put him down, despite his half-coherent complaints. In his opinion, the fireman’s carry he’s got the lanky man in is a much easier way to keep the two of them together.

“Sorry about making things difficult earlier,” Yeonsik tries to mumble as Changbin navigates their descent. “We… For three days already! Thought I-”

“It’s fine, I shouldn’t have run off.” Giving the back of one of the man’s thighs a friendly pat, Changbin squints through the fog. “Under normal circumstances, you would have been right, and if I were anyone else, I’d be dead.”

“Good thing you aren’t.” Smile faintly audible in his voice, Yeonsik slaps Changbin’s back weakly. “I don’t want to explain to Chan-ssi how I got one of his hunters killed.”

Waving off Yeonsik’s comment, Changbin feels some of the tension leave him at the sight of the ruined town. “Ah, he’d know it was my fault. But ditto to you, I don’t want to be the one to tell your team they’re leaderless.” Pulling a face, he mutters, “They’ve all got puppy eyes, I’d feel bad.”

“Ryujin would kill you,” the other hunter adds.

Snorting, Changbin rolls his eyes. “Yeah, apparently that too.”

Once he’s fired off the flare gun, it doesn’t take Yuchen and Seunghyun long to reconvene with them at what’s left of the town hall. By the time the younger hunter and the dragon arrive, Yeonsik is at least awake enough to be stumbling around, and Changbin has had the chance to confirm that no, his ribs aren’t broken. Considering how much they hurt, he’s a little surprised, but hey, a win is a win.

Between Yuchen excitedly firing off details about their own hunt, and him showing off Seunghyun’s new missing tooth, Gahou arrives to help ferry them back. There’s a meaningful glance exchanged between the larion and Yeonsik, but other than that, the extraction process is rather smooth. According to him, Hyowon has managed to confirm they’ve completely taken care of the problem, and now whatever’s left is the job of clean-up.

“Which we’ll contact tomorrow,” the hybrid chirps, as he carries Changbin out of the bubble of glittering pink magic in much the same way he carried him in. “After everyone has had a moment to breathe and Ryujin-hyung calms down.”

That, Changbin discovers, turns out to be a bit of an understatement. The second the tiny fairy has Yeonsik in his clutches, he refuses to let him go. Despite him being half-covered in mud and entirely soaked in cockatrice blood, Ryujin is instantly mother-henning over him, plucking little twigs out of his hair and knitting the minor little cuts on his face back together with magic. He’s so fixated on it that he doesn’t even ask how Changbin and Yeonsik ended up so worse for wear, which is probably for the best.

After a certain amount of bandaging and washing off all the toxic goop, the eight of them end up crashing in one of the nearby towns, where Sijun manages to drag them into a dive bar. Half of them have only just stopped actively bleeding, but surviving near-death experiences tends to make other potentially poor life choices seem a whole lot less serious. And really, all of them could use a drink. Anything to wash the taste of acid out of the back of their throats.

“We only ended up finding six of them,” Yuchen is loudly recounting to his captive audience of Hyowon and Sijun, as he waves around his half-empty glass precariously. “Which, honestly, I thought we were going to find more of them, but trust me it was a chore to dig those ones out.” Elbowing his dragon companion, who passively allows himself to be jostled, the hunter grins from ear to ear. “One of them got stuck in the upstairs of this one house, couldn’t figure out how to take the stairs down.” Turning to the bartender, a wiry wolf-candid, he adds, “That’s where I got the black eye.”

It’s not a black eye, it’s actually both of them. If you were to ask Changbin’s opinion, he would have said it looks suspiciously like the man caught a tail to the face. But no one is asking him for his input.

“Personally I’m glad there weren’t any more,” Yeonsik mutters from the chair he’s commandeered near the bar. “If I never have to deal with another one of those murder chickens, it’ll be too soon.”

From where he’s perched himself in the man’s lap, Ryujin fusses over him with his free hand. “Next time I’m coming,” he insists, tugging at the man’s bangs before gently running his fingers over one of Yeonsik’s quickly bruising cheeks. As he does, the mark shimmers and vanishes. “I can’t believe you thought that casting a spell of that magnitude was a good idea. That should have killed you. I should kill you. Think of our children!”

“Don’t worry Ryujin-hyung! He’s fine now,” Gahou reassures, offering the fairy one of his serene smiles. “And maybe with some practice, he’ll get better at big magic.”

Pouting, the man purses his lips around the straw of his brightly colored drink and stares at the table like he’s trying to burn a hole through it. “That’s terrible reasoning, you’re all acting like stupid mortals right now.”

Chuckling, Yeonsik wraps an arm around Ryujin’s waist. “That’s because we are mortals, Ryujin. And don’t lie, there’s no way I’m ever going to get you to deal with a nest of cockatrice.”

“Well maybe if they didn’t spit acid so much,” the man insists hotly. “Then we wouldn’t have so much of a problem.”

“They’re a problem because they shoot acid,” Seunghyun tries to point out, while Yuchen simultaneously yells, “But that’s half the fun!”

Which only sends their little group into an argument about how dirty hunts are allowed to be before they become miserable. 

For his part, Changbin has settled into his stool at the bar and is in the process of nursing his second glass of whatever Sijun passed him. It’s not that he doesn’t want to join in the conversation, he reflects, as he watches the collection of hunters and non-humans banter back and forth, it’s just… Not his scene. Not his family. Not the people that he’s used to or the comfortable grooves he belongs in. Maybe once upon a time, he would have been better at fitting in, but as it is, he’s perfectly content just to listen.

They’re a good group. More Jisung and Seungmin’s friends than his, but a decent bunch nonetheless. Yeonsik is a little by-the-books for his tastes, and the sheer amount of magic that radiates off the seven of them is enough to make his nose itch, but they’re not bad. They managed to contain double digits worth of cockatrice for several days in a row, and they weren’t half bad at eliminating the birds once they put their mind to it. And all of the jobs he’s worked with them before have gone smoothly, more or less.

We don’t talk about Egypt.

It’s his first time actually meeting Ryujin and Hyowon, but the two seem okay. Hyowon is young, but he seems like a sharp enough psyker. Somewhere under all of those slightly lost expressions. Ryujin seems slightly more dangerous. The sheer amount of magic he contains not withstanding, there’s something in his bright sparkling eyes that suggests he wouldn’t hesitate to kill if he thought it would benefit him even slightly. The slim, metal collar around the fairy’s neck doesn’t escape Changbin’s attention either, but he doesn’t remark on it.

All in all, Changbin can’t find much to complain about. And, when he watches Ryujin pick at Yeonsik’s clothes, and Sijun playfully ruffle the hair between Gahou’s fluffy pointed ears, he thinks they’re all probably doing better than just fine.

Pursing his lips for a second, his expression falls into something neutral and he glances back down at his drink. That’s one of those things, isn’t it, that makes this job tolerable. The partners. Personally, he thinks he’s fine with or without one, but… It’s moments like these that he remembers how nice it was to have someone to lean on.

It’s been a while since he’s had anyone reliable. Changbin doesn’t really hold anything against any of them- well, maybe he holds something against Jun. But it really wasn’t the selkie’s fault. He’d gone against a B class threat today, and he’d almost died. And that’s every job these days. When Changbin has someone to help, the threats he handles only get worse. It’s not really something you can reasonably expect just anyone to handle.

But what about before that? Everyone had assumed Junseong would be able to take it. The blink dog had been the type to sink his teeth into anything if he thought it’d be fun. Surely that was the kind of attitude that would carry him through in a job like this. And it had worked. For all of two years. But then they’d come across that murderous frost dragon, and the man had dipped.

The official reason had been that Junseong didn’t feel his mandatory community service was worth risking his life over. That had been what had been written on the transfer documents, that’s what he’d told Chan. That’s what Junhyung had said when he’d come to collect the blink hybrid, his slightly sharp smile as kind as ever. But Changbin knew better, because he’d been the one to have the fight with Junseong before he’d made his final decision to leave.

You’re suicidal, Junseong had said flatly, his expression for once entirely serious. I saw the way you tried to deal with that thing, I saw how you fought. I saw how you expected me to fight. I know this is a dangerous job, hyung, but you act like you don’t care if you die.

Thank the void he hadn’t said as much to Chan, otherwise the older hunter probably wouldn’t have let Changbin leave the base again, and worse, he might have called Kevin from the demonology and occult team to get him to talk about it. Besides, it wasn’t even accurate. Changbin didn’t want to die, and he still doesn’t. It’s just that sometimes the job requires risks, and he’s always been willing to take them.

But he’s always suspected that’s why Haeun left. Not because she couldn’t handle Seungmin, though that’s an understandable reason on its own. Maybe it’s because Changbin had been too reckless. Too willing to throw himself into danger and not care about whether he came out of it in one piece. He tells anyone who will listen that it’s what the job requires, but sometimes he doubts himself.

Especially at moments like these, when he’s watching Yuchen drag Seunghyun’s mouth open to show the bartender the dragon’s missing tooth, and Ryujin press little butterfly kisses to a laughing Yeonsik’s cheek. Because everyone else makes it look easy to find a partner and keep them. It’s not like there isn’t a steady flow of them being passed on from the Bureau. Surely he should be able to just look through the young non-humans and find someone who won’t panic when he runs in first and asks questions later.

Then again, maybe he’s always going to be cursed to trying to fill the hole that he left behind.

Sighing, Changbin dips his head. It’s only been, what, nine years? Almost ten? Eventually, it had to get better. Eventually, he’d stop turning his head, expecting to find that crooked smile looking back at him.

A shoulder bumps against his. Glancing up, Changbin finds Hyowon watching him with an open, puppy-like expression. “You’re quiet,” he observes carefully.

Zoning back in, Changbin glances back at the others before trying for a small smile. “Just tired.”

“Thanks for your help.” When the young hunter smiles, Changbin sees a long forgotten guilelessness in his expression. “We’d have been stuck here for the next week at least, and that wouldn’t have been much fun.”

Pushing his mostly empty glass across the counter towards the bartender, Changbin gives a nod. “Considering you’ve got a fairy to look after, yeah probably not.”

“You made this job practically easy.”

Recognizing the genuine gratitude when he hears it, Changbin forces himself not to shrug it off and meets Hyowon’s eyes. They’re different colors, one a soft brown, the other such a pale gray, it might as well be white. “Anytime,” he promises. “I’m here to help.”

And he means it. Because isn’t that what being a hunter is all about?

 

᚛ᚒᚖᚒ᚜

Notes:

For anyone curious, the supporting cast of this chapter is from J.Wiiver. Quite a good little group of boys. I'm very fond.

Editors Note: Since Hocheol seems to have officially changed his name to Ryujin, I've decided to go through and change it in this story. Just in case there was any confusion who I was talking about.

I promise once we've gotten out of the weeds and into the story itself, there will be a lot fewer cameos and a lot more of just skz. But bear with me, things need to happen.

Chapter 3: Home Again

Notes:

Welcome, hi!

This may be chapter three but it's new. I decided I needed some extra world building and I'm not married enough to my stuff to not do something like this.

It'll add very useful context, I swear.

Enjoy!

᚛ᚒᚖᚒ᚜

 

Bureau transport has always been and always will be a nightmare.

After all, they have thousands of hunters, all with places to be. They need ways to move those people, and they can’t expect everyone to just pay for travel expenses out of their own pocket. For a local or district team, that’s fine. They get cars and transports and never have to worry about anything more complex. For regional and specialist teams, however, it gets a mite more complicated.

It’s a nightmare that Changbin is intimately familiar with, but that doesn’t make it any better. You’d think an organization spanning the globe would have something this simple worked out, but you’d be wrong. Because like so many other government-funded things, if it isn’t explicitly and irreparably broken, there’s no need to make it any better.

There’s no such thing as ‘this will get you there faster, therefore-’. There is only ever ‘this option is cheaper’ and ‘this option is more expensive’. Occasionally, you’ll have the privilege of doing a job important enough to allow for nice accommodations, like an economy class plane ticket. For threats B class and below, however, it’s whatever requires the Bureau to shell out the least money possible.

Which is why Changbin took a six hour train home, instead of being put on a flight that would have maybe taken him an hour. That part, honestly, he’s fine with. It’s his first chance to be alone with his thoughts in a couple days. What he’s less fine with is the bit that inevitably comes right after.

Currently, he’s trying to navigate the narrow mountain paths back to base in a large, clunky transit that desperately needs its transmission checked. They’ve had this damn vehicle for the past decade now, and no matter how many times Chan asks the Bureau to replace it, the pleas fall on deaf ears. At this point, Changbin would say giving up would be a better use of their time, if this thing weren’t a rattling, groaning death trap.

Technically, they have two of them, a luxury afforded to their team because they’re just important enough. That boon seems less impressive when you look at the state of the two transits, but details, Chan insists. They still get from point a to point b, that’s good enough, right?

As he maneuvers around yet another turn that’s hardly wide enough for a car, much less this thing, Changbin stares out the windshield at the endless skies around him. Most people would probably call this place beautiful. Inhospitable, yes. A good forty-five minutes from even the suggestion of civilization, but beautiful. He can’t really comment on the aesthetics of it all, but to him, it all looks distinctly like home.

Creaking his way over that last steep hill, Changbin finally hits the final stretch of his drive. He’s been in this damn thing for an hour and a half now, which doesn’t sound too punishing, until you pile it on top of the rest of his travel time. Add to that the fact he got maybe three hours of sleep the night before, and it becomes a little more understandable why he’s grumpy.

Hunters are meant to move, they aren’t meant to be cooped up in ugly white transits that are inches from kicking the bucket.

And then there’s still the walk to the house itself… Void, you’d think they’d just let us live closer to civilization. But regional teams like theirs don’t have the same required two hour response time that district teams have. Without an imperative to relocate them, there’s no way in hell they’re going to be moved now.

Complaints aside, he’s fond of the place. The isolation and the miles of space to themselves. Out here, there’s no one to complain, no one to bother them. There’s just sky, stone, and a lone house sitting in the dead center of a dead-zone.

Turning a corner, Changbin feels his shoulders sag with no small amount of relief at the sight of a familiar garage. Well, calling it a garage might be generous. It’s a lean-to at best, with pressed gravel parking room that floods with every storm, and poorly planted posts holding up a roof that’s not going to last more than another year. But their other transit is squatting below it already, which makes it a garage.

It also means that everyone is probably still home; something to look forward to.

As he pulls into the empty spot, a flicker of movement catches Changbin’s eyes, and a tired smile pulls over his face at the sight of Jisung popping up to his feet. Locking eyes with the man, he offers him a loose, half-salute, and gets a heart-shaped grin in return.

The man is one of those people who looks far squishier than a profession like hunting should allow. The broad shoulders belay it slightly, but the roundness of his cheeks and roundness of his eyes isn’t so much deceptive as a fragment of normal he’s been allowed to keep. It helps he doesn’t have a scar on him, despite his fourteen years of experience. The only sign of wear he shows is the eternally shaggy brown hair, and the fact his eyes never seem to match colors, no matter how many times Seungmin has loosely attempted to make them so.

Jisung is the youngest hunter of Chan’s team. He’s a good handful of years younger than Changbin, but at this point, he’s lost track of exactly how many. Birthdays come and go; it’s rare at this point that any of them remember to celebrate. He figures they can bother when they start feeling noticeably older.

“Hyung!” Allowing himself to be hauled into the one-armed hug Jisung always insists on, Changbin’s smile grows. “How was the trip.”

“I’ve had worse.” Dragging Jisung in the direction of the other side of the transit, Changbin pulls the door open and yanks his bags of gear from the passenger seat. “Though I wouldn’t mind a shower.”

Laughing, Jisung catches the duffel Changbin tosses him and slings it over his shoulder. “You’re welcome to it the moment we get back.”

“Who’s home?” Eying the other parked vehicle for a second, Changbin turns to the other hunter. “Just you and Seungmin, or-”

“Everyone, for now.” When he gets a raised eyebrow, Jisung elaborates. “Chan-hyung’s headed out soon. I think he’s trying to catch the four-thirty train.”

“Wow, soon.” Stashing the key-fob in the front right wheel-well, Changbin shoulders his own bag of gear before running through a quick mental checklist to make sure he’s got everything. “What kind of job are he and Hyunjin going on?”

Giving one of those little laughs of his that shakes his shoulders and doesn’t do much else, Jisung admits, “Ah, just Chan-hyung going out. Pretty sure it’s not for a job. Hyunjin’s staying home with us.”

Changbin pulls a face. “Right.” Bureau business then. Unfortunate, but it needs to be done. This is one job he has never and will never envy his leader for. Not a week goes by where he isn’t deeply grateful the most of his own organization he has to deal with is some paperwork at the end of a job and the brief encounters with local paper pushers when he needs something. Speaking of, I need to write up that report and send it in…

Hopefully their scanner is having one of its functional days. 

Following Jisung out of the garage, Changbin looks out over the flat expanse of the dead-zone and pulls a face. A six mile hike after the rest of his day doesn’t sound fun, but he knows it’ll get better once he starts walking. Moving his legs a bit will be good for him after so much sitting.

“Hyunjin’s making dinner tonight,” Jisung offers, like he’s trying to be encouraging.

“That’s at least five hours away,” Changbin points out.

“Seungmin made lunch?”

“And that fills me with so much confidence.”

“It was sandwiches,” Jisung reassures him. “There’s only so much you can fuck up with something like that.”

Changbin lets out a breath. “Jisung, you don’t have to sell me on going home.”

“Okay, well then…” Jisung takes several steps into the dead zone. “Don’t just stand there.”

Dipping his head, Changbin adjusts his bag and follows.

You’d think it’d be easier to just drive the transit all the way back to the base, and from a place of pure, in-the-moment convenience, you’d be right. Unfortunately, the magic swarming around this place tends to warp anything even vaguely mechanical beyond recognition. Sure, they could drive the transits in, but repeated, prolonged exposure to the place would guarantee they never drove again.

Changbin has suggested if they did break one of the transits like that, the Bureau would finally be forced to replace it. Chan just looked at him and made the excellent point that the Bureau might just tell them to fuck themselves, and even if they were willing to replace the truck, it could take them years to do so. With that in mind, the transits get left outside the dead zone, and the five of them just walk.

The air bites a bit at first, with how crisp it is. Almost sterile, despite the dust that clouds up around each of their footfalls. Changbin’s first few breaths of it are difficult to draw in, but the next handful feel like they’re physically scouring his lungs of the toxic fumes he was breathing in during that last job. After that, it gets easier, as the faint taste of cherries settles into the back of his throat, and the familiar feeling of being where he belongs fills him.

Jisung and he easily keep pace as they cross the dead zone. There’s theoretically a road they can follow to get to the house, but it takes exponentially longer, so they’re left trekking across hardened cracked earth and stone. If Changbin squints, he can see the footprints Jisung left behind on his way to meet him.

“Everything been fine the past couple days?”

Squinting up at the sun hanging punishingly above them, Jisung shrugs. “Same as always. Seungminnie dragged me off to Bryansk yesterday, but that’s nothing out of the ordinary.” 

Changbin’s not sure how Jisung is able to keep up with Seungmin, but this many years in, he’s learned it’s easiest not to ask. Because Seungmin never answers, and Jisung’s answers never make sense. Instead, he gives a small nod and moves on. “Anything lined up for me?”

“You just got home,” Jisung points out with a small laugh. “Maybe try sleeping in your own bed for a night first?”

“It was just a question,” Changbin mutters, looking away. 

Okay, so maybe he doesn’t have much room to judge Seungmin and Jisung’s schedule. Normally, he’s not much better. There’s always a job to do, after all. There’s always someone who needs help. If he doesn’t want to suffer the boredom of extended down time, he doesn’t have to.

“You can ask Chan-hyung about it,” Jisung tells him, reaching over and slapping him on the back with his free hand. “But he hasn’t told me about anything dire that’s cropped up. Though speaking of dire, how was your last job?”

Though Changbin doesn’t have the energy to make the story interesting, he still patiently recounts the story of the cockatrice to Jisung, who listens to the whole thing with wide, excited eyes like he hasn’t dealt with his own fair share of the creatures. It’s nothing out of the ordinary, but going over it again helps cement what parts of the experience need to be put into the official report, and which parts need to be conveniently left out. Like all the near brushes with death, and the parts where he’d argued with Yeonsik, even though the man had technically been the hunter in charge of that operation.

Jisung, naturally, doesn’t bat an eye at any of it, he just laughs at what’s left of the acid burns on Changbin’s arms and asks how everyone else in Yeonsik’s team is doing.

“They seem fine.” Changbin rolls his shoulders and picks at his shirt in an attempt to air it out. “Better than in Egypt.”

“That was ages ago,” Jisung insists with a wave of his hand. “Yeonsik-hyung has everything under control now!”

“Right.” Remembering the pink magic that had been lacing through everything the man cast, Changbin mutters, “Or Ryujin-ssi does.”

“That too!” Jisung’s shoulder bumps up against Changbin’s. “Thanks for going out and helping them. If it wasn’t you, it was probably going to be me and Seungmin, but between you and Seungmin, you’re less destructive.”

Changbin shrugs. “I saw the email, I figured it wouldn’t hurt.” At least, not metaphorically. Getting tossed around by murder chickens is never good for anyone’s body, but he’s had so much worse. “They’ve helped us plenty of times before.”

And it’s better than staying couped up, alone with his own thoughts. If he’s on the field working, it’s a lot harder for him to be miserable, because he simply doesn’t have the time. Having too many unnecessary thoughts in the middle of a fight gets you killed. It’s a case of figure it out or die that actually works in his favor for once.

“I’m sure they’ll help us again some day.” Jisung’s smile is big and genuine. “After all, you never know when something is going to explode and need to be contained.”

“Try not to wish ill on us?” Changbin suggests, snorting and ruffling Jisung’s hair. “There’s enough trouble out there. We don’t need to invite more.”

“It might be the fun kind?” Jisung tries.

“Doubtful.”

The rest of the walk back to the base is spent talking about nothing in particular. They pass the twisted remains of the old garage pretty quickly, and by that point its possible to spot the house itself in the distance, a small spot against the surrounding expanse of nothing. There’s something incredibly liminal about it, sitting alone out there, but Changbin is accustomed to the sight. 

Home, he thinks yet again, as they get close enough to make out the giant red, orange and gold bird sunning itself on the roof. Home in a way that most people can only dream of.

As they hit that last stretch of the walk, the other details of the place start to stand out. The weather-beaten siding, the ancient tree that’s practically bent itself into a pretzel, and the door that’s been the same color of lemon yellow for as long as Changbin can remember. The shingles of the roof have seen better days, and he’s still not sure why they have a mail-box if no one ever makes the trip out here to deliver them mail, but every piece is something he’s seen a thousand times before. Is something he knows as well as he knows himself.

Noticing them, the phoenix on the roof ruffles his feathers and hops forward until he can lean over the lip of the gutters. Though he doesn’t speak, he does give a loud, piercing trill before fanning his tail feathers out.

“Hey Jinnie,” Changbin calls, raising a hand in Hyunjin’s direction.

Swooping down, buffeting both Jisung and Changbin with wind in the process, Hyunjin flutters his way around them both, his big eyes taking in Changbin specifically. In this form, the phoenix is easily big enough to stand level with them, though clearly he doesn’t register how large he is. Not with the way Hyunjin butts his head up against them both, making happy chirping sounds the entire time.

“Yeah, I’m glad to see you too,” Changbin mutters as he’s nearly bowled over by a mass of bird that manages to make the sun above them feel cool by comparison. “Didn’t mean to interrupt your sun-bathing.”

Another trill, accompanied by Hyunjin spreading his wings as far as they’ll go. The phoenix’s wingspan easily stretches a good twenty feet- which might have been intimidating, if Changbin didn’t know this non-human so personally. As it is, his only reaction is to chuckle and wrap his free hand around the bird’s neck.

“Need me to grab you a change of clothes, or do you already have some out here?” Glancing up at the roof, Changbin cranes his neck to see if he can spot anything up there. “Not that you have to come in right now or anything.”

Letting out a complex string of twittering sounds that would no doubt make a lot more sense if Changbin spoke even a lick of an avian dialect, Hyunjin hops back and takes wing again, sending a cloud of dust over him in the process. Coughing, Changbin holds up his arms and sighs. If he hadn’t needed a shower before, he desperately needs one now. Not that he’d ever complain aloud.

A moment later, there’s a yell of, “Hangonasecond! I’m coming down!” before Hyunjin totters over to the edge of the roof once more, this time in a much more humanoid form. All Changbin has time to do is register what’s happening and drop his duffel bag before the phoenix is jumping down, calling, “Catch me!” as he does.

Thankfully, he does manage to catch the man. Less fortunately, his ears are immediately assaulted by Hyunjin’s shriek of, “Why are you so dirty?” before he’s scrambling out of Changbin’s arms and to his feet.

“Well he has been working,” Jisung points out, as if it wasn’t the walk back to the base that did most of this damage.

Straightening his mildly singed shorts, Hyunjin runs a hand through his bright red hair. “You smell bad,” he informs Changbin. “But welcome home anyways.”

Even in this form, the phoenix towers over Changbin. It’s a graceful sort of looming, all thin frame and graceful neck and bird legs from the knee down, but it still makes him feel particularly short, having to look up to see the man’s face. Not that he really minds, because Hyunjin is a gentle creature through and through.

Though most of the more phoenix-esque features are gone, there’s still feathers sprouting out from amongst his hair, and a tuft of them on his chest, next to the bond mark he shares with Chan. Behind him, longer tail feathers brush the dusty ground, smoldering slightly at the tips as he fluffs them. The rest of him, however, is fully humanoid, from the long fingers he’s picking at Changbin’s hair with, to the pout on his lips, to the soft, scarlet eyes he’s fixed on the hunter’s face.

Catching one of Hyunjin’s hands, Changbin asks, “What’s up?”

“You smell like fire,” the phoenix mumbles, brows pinching together.

“Are we sure that’s not you?” Jisung asks, gesturing at the non-human’s tail.

Fluffing up said tail feathers haughtily, Hyunjin makes a particularly offended sound in the back of his throat. “No, I can tell the difference, Jisung. I know my smell from other smells.”

Snorting, Changbin squeezes the man’s hand. “A cockatrice spat fire at me. It’s fine, though, she missed.” Which isn’t exactly how it went, but also isn’t precisely a lie. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll shower and smell better.”

Instantly, Hyunjin relaxes and a smile reappears on his face. “Okay. If you say so.”

Following after Jisung towards the front door, Changbin asks, “Did you enjoy your roof time?”

Allowing himself to be tugged along by their linked hands, Hyunjin giggles. “Well, Seungminnie was out there earlier with me, but he vanished, so I just napped instead. It’s not nearly warm enough.”

Changbin would beg to disagree, but he doesn’t voice it. Instead he gives a bemused shake of his head and steps into the relative gloom of the base.

“I’ll leave your bag in your room?” Jisung offers, hoisting the duffel bag up pointedly.

“Might as well leave it in the laundry room,” Changbin admits with a grimace. “I don’t think I’ve got anything in there that isn’t covered in mud.”

“This is why you end up smelling bad,” Hyunjin announces, with a pensive look on his face. “You roll around in the dirt.”

“Hey, I don’t roll around in the mud on purpose,” Changbin defends, letting go of Hyunjin’s hand so he can pull off his boots and leave them by the door. “It’s just that sometimes I am required to be around dirt and sometimes I can’t avoid it.”

“Hyung, you don’t try to avoid it,” Jisung tells him with a grin.

Changbin huffs. “Hesitation gets you killed.”

“You roll around in the dirt too,” Hyunjin points out to Jisung.

“I do not roll around in it!” Changbin yelps.

“Bin, you’re home.”

At the sound of their leader’s voice, all three of them instantly spin around. Chan, as always, looks a little tired and a little harried, with his curly hair in a messy halo around his head, and bags permanently stamped under his eyes. Still, he smiles at them before striding their way, pulling the shirt he’s got in his hands over his head as he does.

“Finally,” Changbin says, stepping away from Hyunjin so he can catch the bear-hug the older man wraps him in. “Only took eight hours.”

“You were up in…” Chan visibly fishes for the location.

“Latvia,” Changbin fills in.

“Right.” Pulling back, Chan’s expression pinches. “Bin, you could have told me you were-”

Trying to keep the guilt off of his face, Changbin crosses his arms and looks away. “Yeah, I know, but Yeonsik-ssi needed help pretty urgently and I didn’t have anything else I was doing.”

“You could have called me.” The disappointment in Chan’s eyes is well meaning, but it still burns somewhat. “It would have taken five minutes at most, I wouldn’t have stopped you. I know you were helping, but I don’t like coming home and not knowing where one of my hunters is.”

“I left a note.” Changbin doesn’t miss the way Jisung edges out of the mud room, a look on his face that suggests he doesn’t want to get wrapped up in this conversation. Even Hyunjin is attempting to creep away, though in a much less successful way. “You got the email I took the job. It’s not that big a deal, hyung.”

Maybe Changbin would have told Chan directly what he was doing, if the man hadn’t been working so hard to keep him from taking any jobs lately. It’s been a constant fight to stay busy, and he’d wanted to avoid it. Even if it did mean skirting around the unspoken rules that reign over their team.

“You’ve been doing this a lot lately,” Chan says, his voice lowering. 

Belligerently, Changbin catches Chan’s eyes. “There’s always work that needs to be done.”

“This is you trying to keep busy.”

“Is there something wrong with that?”

For a second, the two of them stare at each other. Beside Changbin, the ends of Hyunjin’s hair catch on fire and instinctively he reaches up to pat them out. He’s pretty sure he manages to burn his palm in the process, but that’s better than burning the house, so he counts it as a win.

“Sorry,” Hyunjin whispers.

As the tension inevitably breaks, Chan’s expression softens and he focuses on his partner. “You’re fine, Jinnie. Didn’t mean to worry you.”

“Everything’s fine,” Changbin agrees.

Lifting his eyebrows dubiously, Hyunjin trills softly. “If you say so.”

Glancing back at Changbin, Chan pulls a face before finally saying, “I don’t mind if you do things, I just want to know about them.” As he talks, he reaches for his nice, official leader’s jacket where it’s hanging on the rack and throwing it over his arm. “Please? For the sake of my sanity if nothing else.”

Shoulders slumping, Changbin takes his hand out of Hyunjin’s hair, letting the phoenix clickclack away in peace. “I wasn’t trying to stress you out.” If anything, he’d been trying to remove the stress from Chan’s shoulders. Let Changbin go out and overwork himself of his own accord, without his leader having to feel responsible for any damage done.

Apparently, that backfired.

“I know you weren’t.” Chan gives him a tired look. “Still.”

Clearing his throat, Changbin stands up straighter. “Sorry for the added stress, I’ll avoid doing it again.”

Chan takes a breath. “Thank you.”

“But… now that we’re talking about it-” Changbin gives Chan a hopeful tilt of his head. “Do you have any work for me now? Before you head out.”

Pausing, half turned back towards the rest of the house, Chan quickly swallows the grimace that comes over his face. “Changbin-”

“I’m asking you first,” he points out stubbornly, doing his best to keep the frown off his face.

“Look-” Lurching back into motion, Chan heads for his desk. Doggedly, Changbin trails after him. “I would let you go off on another job tomorrow, but I think there might be something bigger I need you for in a couple days.”

“And that is…?” Changbin prompts, watching as his leader shuffles through the stacks of paperwork on his desk.

“Ah, don’t really have details yet.” Chan gives a little shrug and casts a smile over his shoulder, as though to say ‘you know how it is’. “But once I have them, I’ll be happy to pass them off. I promise I won’t keep you corralled for long, just… until I know how things are shaking out? Give me until Thursday?”

Thursday is several days away, but Changbin can sense from the tone Chan’s using with him that this isn’t actually negotiable, he’s just phrasing it like it is. If he fights hard enough, he might get some bend, but he’s not going to get complete give. Chan means it when he says he wants Changbin to stay home, and even though he seems like he’s in a rush to get out the door, he’s probably still willing to waste time debating this if he has to.

“I just don’t want to have to fish you out of void knows where if I need you.” Finding what he’s looking for, Chan tucks a folder under his arm before facing Changbin completely. “Besides, it’s not like you haven’t been working yourself to the bone. A tiny break won’t kill you.”

He wants to disagree, but he doesn’t think he can without sounding crazy, so he doesn’t. Instead, Changbin gives a little nod. “You’ll be home tonight?”

Chan grimaces. “I wish. Probably looking at early tomorrow at best.”

Changbin matches his leader’s expression. “That far away, huh?”

“You know how it is.” Gathering a few other little things together and sticking them into his pockets, Chan rolls his shoulders. “Some things have to be done in person. Unfortunately for all of us.”

“You’ll be back before you know it.” Changbin offers Chan a half smile. “I’ll hold down the fort while you’re gone.”

“I’m not worried.” Chan’s eyes crinkle warmly. “Remember-”

“To write up my report?” Changbin guesses. “Don’t worry, already on it. I’ve only been doing this for, what, fifteen years?”

“Not quite that long yet.” Stepping past Changbin and back down the hallway, Chan calls, “Don’t age me like that if it’s not necessary.”

“I’ll let Seungmin do that for me,” Changbin agrees with a laugh.

Groaning, Chan gives Changbin a little wave. “I’ll be home when I’m home.” 

“Travel well.”

When the door closes behind Chan, it does so silently, without so much as a creak. Standing there for a moment longer, Changbin gives his brain a moment to reorient before he exhales and looks around. The room is still clear, Jisung and Hyunjin having long since disappeared off elsewhere. Glancing over his shoulder at his bag, which Jisung had abandoned in his haste to escape the conversation with Chan, Changbin briefly considers going to look for them before deciding that he’d really rather shower and maybe even unpack.

If he’s going to be stuck at home for more than a day, he might as well.

All Changbin bothers to do is drop his bag by the door of his room before taking a trip down to the bathroom and finally washing the grime of travel off of him. Maybe it’s the inherent magic that saturates this dead zone, but there’s something especially refreshing about the cool water coming out of his own shower head, instead of from a chain hotel in the middle of nowhere. Like it’s revitalizing him even though it logically has very little power to.

Once the water runs clear instead of puddle water brown, Changbin quickly towels off and gives himself a look in the mirror. All things considered, that last job hadn’t left him too damaged. Anything bad he’d picked up, Yeonsik’s partner had stitched up for him, and the rest is surface level enough to be negligibly important. It’s better than it could be, and it probably had helped his case with Chan about being fine despite having run off.

On one hand, he understands the man being worried, on the other, Changbin thinks he’s beyond capable of knowing his own limits and looking after himself. He’s been doing this for perhaps not the majority of his life, but damn near it. If he didn’t know what he could take, he’d already be dead. Clearly he isn’t, so he can handle his own workload just fine.

But Chan is the sort of person who takes any suffering the rest of them sustain onto himself. It doesn’t matter if Changbin is doing it to himself, somehow, it’s still his leader’s problem. And if there’s a problem, then logically it must be fixed. Changbin can’t argue with it, because for the most part he’s thankful, but sometimes, he has other opinions.

Running a hand through his damp hair, Changbin glances down at his chest and pulls a face at the bond mark scars lined up there. Four in a mostly neat little row. He’s fine, really. The less mother-henning he receives, the happier he’ll be over all.

Decisively, he turns away from the mirror and heads to his room.

It’s as it always is. Cramped, disordered, containing the entirety of his life and still having a little room to spare. His extra uniform is still there hanging over his desk chair, reminding him that he desperately needs to wash it. His window is still open, because apparently he forgot to close it before taking off for that last job.

Stepping over the threshold, kicking his bag of gear in through the door as he does, Changbin closes the door before tossing his towel in the first direction that won’t break something. Glancing over at his bed, that same tangle of sheets and pillows he doesn’t think he’s properly straightened in years, he smiles despite himself. There are a couple feathers on the mattress that weren’t there before, because Hyunjin’s always had a habit of sleeping wherever he wants, instead of exclusively in his own nest.

Running a hand through damp hair, Changbin casts around for an easy change of clothes. He needs to do laundry. He also needs to write a report. His gun could also use a thorough cleaning. And probably, by the time he’s finished, dinner will be ready. It’s a full afternoon of work, but he’s not concerned. After all, he’s being given a mandatory long weekend. There will be plenty of time to relax and catch up on sleep after.

He needs that. As much as he doesn’t want to stop moving, he desperately needs that.

After acquiring a pair of gym shorts and a shirt that doesn’t smell, Changbin gathers as many dirty clothes as his basket will hold before piling the binder of blank report forms on top and heading for the laundry room. It’s at the back of the house, just beyond the kitchen, and is less a room and more a stumpy bit of hall they tossed a curtain over to pretend it’s a room. You’d think they’d have figured out a door by now, but you’d… probably be less surprised than Changbin wants to be.

It’s a hunter base. Most of it is poorly constructed and holding together with magic and prayers. You get used to it.

Finding his other duffel bag right where Jisung said he’d leave it, Changbin knocks the worst of the caked on mud into the big plastic sink, before tossing his uniform into the washer. Next goes his spare uniform, and then the extra undershirts, socks, gloves, and other machine safe accessories. The rest is casual clothes that have probably sat in the same place on his floor for at least a few weeks, if not longer.

Void, he’s been out a lot lately. It’s been job after job for the past nearly four weeks at this point. Changbin had hardly given the broken bond mark time to stop openly bleeding before jumping back onto the field. Usually, a regional hunter like him would probably handle six to eight jobs in a month, give or take a couple depending on how difficult or extensive each one was.

Changbin is clocking in at job number eleven, and it’s only because Chan’s told him to sit down that he’s not actively looking to make it twelve. He’s always busy, but usually there’s a little more time spent at home, actually being part of his team. More rcently, the most he’s seen of the other four were when he had to call Chan and Hyunjin in as backup for a job in the alps he hadn’t wanted to fuck around on.

Is it bad for him long term? Probably, but so is being a hunter in general. It’s better than thinking. Everything is better than thinking.

The washing machine rattles and growls at him when he starts it up; a grumpy, ancient beast that just barely fulfills the purpose it exists for. One of these days, it’s going to shake itself apart and stop working, but until then, it’s fine. Eying it for a minute, in case today really is the day it gives up the ghost, Changbin decides it’s doing alright and takes a seat in the metal folding chair they keep in the laundry room. It’s only then that he pops open the reports binder and starts the headache of filling one of those out.

Theoretically, most of this is handled by the Bureau itself. Either it’s taken care of by the initial incident reports turned in by the poor local and district teams first getting their hands on these problems, or the reconstructionists that go in when it’s all over write it up. If Changbin never filled out another report in his life, there would be no real loss, but the Bureau insists, and more importantly, Chan insists. They’ve got protocol to follow. Even for something as boring as this.

Plucking the pen he keeps stashed in here out of its hiding place, Changbin frowns at the poorly photocopied page for a good five minutes. Before him, the washing machine makes several remarkably loud bangs. Kicking it, he grumbles something under his breath before setting ink to paper.

Name: Seo Changbin.

Rank: Regional Hunter

Designation: Eliminations

Team Designation: 2018-0325-SKZ

Partner Name: n/a

Partner Species: n/a

Job Completed: B-class threat

Puffing out his cheeks, he stares miserably at the rest of the rubric and wonders yet again if he should just steal Chan’s laptop to type this up instead before beginning to write once more.

“Having fun?”

Swearing loudly, nearly dropping the binder, Changbin jerks his head up to find a familiar set of jet black eyes watching him. Seungmin has somehow, in the past couple minutes, managed to find his way on top of the washing machine. Though Changbin swears he would have noticed the man walking by him and also jumping onto the rattling contraption, he didn’t. Instead, it seems the other man just appeared there.

Seungmin is one of those non-humans that seems like he should be able to be classified, but no one particularly wants to try. He almost looks human, with the lack of inherently inhuman features and the general size, stature and demeanor of a human. The black eyes are a bit of a give-away, but the purple hair could be dyed, and there’s nothing much else to set him apart.

Except for the distinct sensation that something’s terribly wrong. And also those teeth. They might be human shaped, but Changbin thinks there are several dozen too many of them, and at this point he’s too deep into this to count.

Pulling at his bright yellow jacket, a piece of clothing he practically always wears, Seungmin’s smile grows. “Jisungie says you’re staying home for a bit.”

Clearing his throat, Changbin settles his paperwork back onto his lap. “Hi, good to see you Seungmin, how are you? I’m doing great, thanks for asking.”

Unperturbed, Seungmin offers Changbin the plate he’s holding. “You can’t be that great, you missed lunch.”

Examining the sandwich, only a little suspicious, Changbin determines that at the very least, it looks as advertised. There’s lunch meats and cheeses in it. He thinks he spots a couple wilted lettuce pieces between the slices of bread. It’s not going to win any prizes certainly, but he decides that Jisung is right; there aren’t that many ways to screw food like this up.

Changbin accepts the plate.

“Traveling,” he mumbles between bites of turkey sandwich that, blessedly, tastes almost exactly like it should. “Not really time for a lot of food.”

“No snacks on the train?” Seungmin asks, like the very idea of being denied little treats is a grave offense.

“No snacks on the train,” Changbin confirms flatly, as he continues to eat the food he’s been given. “And no time for any hotel breakfast either, considering I had a ride to catch.”

You might think with a schedule like theirs, there would be a lot of meals that end up missed, but for the most part, they’re better about it than that. Considering the work he does, Changbin doesn’t really have the luxury of doing things like missing meals and skipping out on valuable calories. He has to be at the top of his game all the time, which means a valiant attempt at proper nutrition.

When he first started as a hunter, it got on his nerves. Now, as he draws worryingly closer to forty every day, he’s thankful for it. Even if it does come with the minor inconvenience of missed meals actually making a dent in his mood.

“Well, we’re feeding you now, before you starve to death or something else unpleasant,” Seungmin states firmly, which is funny, because Changbin’s fairly certain the non-human himself doesn’t actually have to eat. “Hyunjinnie is making dinner, and I won’t have you skip it.”

“Perish the thought,” Changbin mutters, jokingly at first, before quickly becoming sincere the moment he’s left to think about it for a second. “Wouldn’t want Hyunjin to be sad or anything.”

“Exactly.”

Silence lulls between them naturally, filling with the rattling of the washer. Seungmin has always been the type of person who can exist in a space with someone else without constantly talking. Sure, he’s chatty when he wants to be, but in the gaps between, he has a very particular habit of observing people. It’s a habit Changbin has been forced to get used to over their many years of working in close proximity. He used to find it unsettling. Now, well…

Admittedly, it’s still a bit unsettling, but less so. Changbin associates this particular chill running down his spine with good things instead of bad things. And as they say, it’s all a matter of perspective, really.

Re-focusing on his report, Changbin considers some of the more delicate wording and mentally tosses it out entirely. It was a job, he did it. This is what he fought, this is how many of them there were, these are the injuries he sustained. Cut and dry, nothing fancy, no embellishments needed. If I could think of what to write in the first place.

He can’t actually remember the last time he embellished on a field report. Logically, he knows he did at one point. It came with the territory of being a young, perhaps stupid hunter. Now, the shine has worn off. The jobs really haven’t changed in seventeen years. Being factual is more convenient than sounding cool.

“Anything particularly interesting happen?” Seungmin’s soft voice manages to easily cut over the creaking and groaning of the washing machine.

Pen pausing in the middle of a half-hearted sentence, Changbin considers it for a moment. “There were a shit ton of them. More than usual. Almost got ripped to shreds a couple times.”

“I could’ve put you back together,” Seungmin says, with the confidence of someone who knows just enough about their own abilities to be certain they aren’t lying. Changbin, meanwhile, thinks of Jisung’s… evolved physiology and shudders involuntarily.

“Like I’ve said,” he mutters, returning to his careful rereading of his unfinished report- instead of, say, writing more of it. “If it’s something bad enough to kill me normally, just let me die. Please don’t Frankenstein me.”

Seungmin just chuckles. “Don’t be silly. I can’t bring anybody back from the dead.” Which doesn’t actually answer the point Changbin had made, but he doesn’t bring that up. It’s rare that Seungmin’s answers ever explain anything to a degree that’s satisfying.

“Right.” He grimaces. “Doesn’t matter either way. I didn’t die.” Not this time. Probably not the next time either. If he were to be so bold, Changbin thinks he could confidently say that he won’t be dying anytime soon. There’s always a chance, obviously, but there’s also a chance he could be hit by a meteor tomorrow. Just because it can happen does it mean it’s likely to.

“I hear Channie let you off without even a slap on the wrist,” Seungmin hums smoothly, leaning over so he can get a better look at Changbin’s face. Being brought to eye-level with those little twin voids is not at all reassuring, but he doesn’t comment on it. “I don’t even think he raised his voice.”

Shifting under the scrutiny, Changbin simply responds, “He didn’t need to. I read his message loud and clear just as it was.”

“Really?” Somehow, the lack of inflection in that simple question stings worse than if Seungmin had sounded directly doubtful.

“Look, Seungmin-” Changbin fixes the non-human with what he hopes is a deliberate, meaningful stare. “If you’re here to lecture me, I promise I don’t need it. I know you guys don’t like it when I run out without saying something. I’ve already apologized to Chan-hyung. I’ve already agreed to take a break.” The implications of his words are clear: What more do you want from me?

Giving a small, toothy smile, Seungmin straightens. “I know you’re going to be very well-behaved for the next month or so,” he says, his face a pleasant mask that does not accurately convey the emotion he’s making Changbin feel. “I also know that good behavior isn’t going to last. Because it never does.”

Looking down at his partially completed report, Changbin considers arguing before giving up on the idea. Seungmin’s right, after all. He probably won’t stop. Maybe he’ll stop for now, maybe he won’t commit this particular offense again for a year, or even two, but there are other bad habits. Little things he does that have always worried Chan, and by extension Jisung and Hyunjin. They’ve also worried Changbin’s previous partners, not that it really matters at this point.

“I’m fine,” Changbin states firmly, doing his best to maintain eye contact. With Seungmin, it’s more difficult than it sounds like it should be, considering the particularly unsettling energy that always swirls around the man like a miasma. “I don’t need to be worried about.”

“I’m not worried about you,” Seungmin says with utter sincerity. “I’m just letting you know.”

Shifting uncomfortably, Changbin attempts to focus back in on his paperwork before giving up entirely for the moment. He can finish it later. For now, he can’t focus. “What– do you know what Chan-hyung’s currently out for?”

He means it as idle chatter to hopefully shift the conversation along forward, but it doesn’t exactly get treated as such. Instead, Seungmin’s eyes fix on him unsettlingly before his wide smile briefly subdues.

“Well,” he begins, with a little tilt of his head. “You’ll find out eventually.”

That’s not a comforting statement at all. Suddenly invested, despite not being even remotely so just two seconds ago, Changbin sits up straighter in his chair. “Do you mind spoiling it for me?” He hates surprises. Perhaps not as much at one point in his life, but being a hunter has definitely ruined it.

Unfortunately, Seungmin just watches him, as unnecessarily cryptic as always. “The Bureau just has some paperwork for Chan to sign.” Which, Changbin knows, doesn’t narrow down the list of what it could be in the slightest. This is the Bureau, anything and everything they do requires paperwork, and inevitably signatures on it. It could be something utterly benign, or it could be incredibly serious. Considering Chan is their leader, all of it is going to require his name somewhere on a piece of paper.

Considering what Chan had said earlier, about needing Changbin on standby, he does his best to whittle down the options of what it logically could be. “They’ve got some kind of bigger job for us, don’t they? Something bad.” Something that at least requires him and Chan, as well as demanding a little more procedure than they’d normally have to go through. 

If that’s the case, it’s definitely going to be life-threatening, but honestly, Changbin almost welcomes the idea. As busy as he’s been lately, it’s been a while since he’s had a job that truly challenged him. 

“It’ll definitely be work,” Seungmin confirms, and though Changbin can’t necessarily tell, he gets the feeling the non-human’s eyes have drifted away. “You won’t be bored.”

“And is there a reason you won’t give me explicit details?” Changbin wonders, lifting an eyebrow.

Seungmin blinks blankly at him. “I have no idea why you’d imply I have all the answers.” Like Changbin is going to believe that for a second. “But I’m sure Channie will be more than happy to share with the class once he gets back. All you have to do is ask him.”

Though he wants to keep prying, Changbin decidedly doesn’t. Seungmin’s right, after a fashion; he will find out soon enough. Bothering people other than Chan about it is admittedly a little unnecessary, especially if it isn’t going to get him anything he won’t be able to get later with much less effort.

With that in mind, Changbin scarfs down the rest of his turkey sandwich and attempts to focus his energy into finishing his report. Unfortunately, something as tedious as paperwork isn’t in the cards. Even with food in his stomach, Changbin feels woefully unfocused. Full of a very particular restless energy that thinking about his last job isn’t going to cure.

Like he can sense this without being told, Seungmin’s smile widens, showing off his ever alarming number of teeth.

“Would you like me to watch the laundry for you?” Seungmin’s voice isn’t exactly saccharine sweet, but it does get close, in a very particularly sticky, cherry-flavored way that Changbin feels in the back of his throat. “You look uncomfortable.”

Changbin doesn’t even bother arguing, he just sets his half-finished report on top of the dryer and gets to his feet. “As long as the machines are still working when I come back.”

“Oh, they’ll work,“ Seungmin promises, his smile never budging. “All of the machines in this house always work.”

After a second spent staring at the smiling non-human, Changbin decides that this too isn’t worth arguing about. Whatever Seungmin’s done to this poor washer and dryer, he probably did it years ago and there’s no fixing it now. “If you don’t mind, then… thanks. Leave the clothes outside my door or something when they’re done. Or I’ll come pull them out of the dryer later.”

“Just make sure you disentangle yourself from whatever you’re doing in time for dinner,” Seungmin chirps.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world."

Now that he’s once again got free time on his hands, genuinely free time, without laundry or frustrating paperwork hanging over his head, Changbin decides he might as well finish the rest of the checklist he’d given himself. Returning to his room, he closes his door before pulling his gun out of her case and carefully retrieving her cleaning kit.

Technically, he should’ve done this last night at the hotel, but he’d been a bit too distracted to really give Gloria the care she deserves. Here, at home, he’s able to do a much more thorough job of it. From disassembling her, to cleaning her, to oiling all the little moving parts, to making sure her sights are aligned and everything is working as intended. It’s all a deeply familiar process, one that he could do in his sleep. Personally though, Changbin relishes the opportunities he has to really pay attention to this task. 

This is his weapon, custom made for his use, given to him by the Academy long ago. He frequently puts his life in her hands and she deserves every bit of attention he can give her. If he treats Gloria well, she won’t ever be given reason to fail him.

Changbin still remembers the relative commotion him picking a firearm in the first place had caused within the Academy. After all, hunters don’t do that. They don’t pick guns of all things, not over the multitude of other options available to them. No, that’s what civilians use. That’s what private and public militaries use. Hell, that’s what the guards who work at Bureau facilities use. Hunters are supposed to use things that are more personal, more traditional.

In Changbin’s mind, a gun can be every bit as personal as any other kind of weapon. And considering how good a shot he’s been from day one of having a firearm in his hands, he’s always trusted this more than he does anything else. Sure, if worst came to worst, he could handle a hunting knife, or maybe even a crossbow. If the situation were life or death, he thinks he could find his way around just about anything. But it’s not life or death for him to learn to use any other type of weapon, so he doesn’t.

Still, other older hunters who had retired to work as instructors for the Academy had tried just about everything to make him switch to literally any other weapon and learn it instead. Right up until Changbin picked up that old Glock his ranged-weaponry professor had kept almost as a joke and broken several records with it. After that, most people shut up.

Since then, the fact Changbin carries Gloria as his weapon of choice has become a bit of a novelty among other hunters. Something that gets him respect and gentle teasing in equal measures. Some people still don’t like it. Until Changbin is paid enough to care about their opinions, he’s going to ignore them.

Once he’s finished cleaning Gloria, Changbin spends a couple minutes pacing around his room, trying to see how much of that excess energy he’s got left. It’s better now, he doesn’t feel like he needs to physically climb out of his own head, but it's still there. A combination of the conversation he just had with Seungmin, mixed with the stress of literally everything else that’s happened to him in the past forty-eight hours. He needs to do something about it, otherwise, he might go crazy.

As you might imagine, his typical method of relieving stress isn’t a nap, or reading a book, or even playing terrible video games with Jisung. Not that he doesn’t appreciate all of those things, but they rarely help. Instead, Changbin heads down to the small personal gym they keep in the basement of their base and spends the next couple hours sweating the stress out.

One would think he’s had plenty of physical activity lately, what with the job and even the walk back to the base, and you would be partially right, but there’s something about this in particular that settles Changbin in a different way. In a way that he’s never bothered to question, and probably couldn’t explain even if he wanted to. It doesn’t matter though, because it works. Like most things that work, he has no interest in trying to change.

He does briefly lament the shower he took earlier and the fact that he’s probably going to need another, but he doesn’t think about it for long. Instead, he focuses on going through his normal workout routine, stretching out the muscles that are still sore from his recent job before putting more strain on all of them. He’ll ache tomorrow, but it’ll be a good ache.

If nothing else, it definitely clears his head. Much like being on a job, working out requires just enough physical exertion that he doesn’t have time to think about anything else. Or rather, it helps him compartmentalize, instead of sitting there with the thoughts to stew.

It’s definitely not a perfect fix. He knows full well that even if he is able to forget some of these things at the moment, they will come back to him, when something else triggers those concerns, or something new crops up, but it’s a damn good solution in the meantime. And it works wonders at making even the big things seem remarkably small.

He only stops his workout when Jisung pops down the basement stairs and brightly tells him that dinner is in the process of being served.

“And you–” the man begins, with a shit-eating grin.

“Would never want to disappoint Hyunjin, yes, I know.” Though he says it with an eye-roll, Changbin’s tone is fond. “I’m coming. Just let me rinse off so I don’t give him another fit about how bad I smell.”

By the time he’s showered, re-dressed, and at the dining room table, food has already been served. It’s some sort of complex potato salad that Changbin’s sure he’s been served before, but has absolutely no memory of. Either way, it tastes pretty decent, and Hyunjin’s delight at everyone eating his food makes it all so much better. As does, of course, the feeling of being surrounded by the rest of his team.

Though Chan is missing from his usual spot at the head of the table, the energy of the base is good tonight. Correct. Changbin might not have been willing to say it out loud, but it’s been off for the past few weeks, every time he’s had an opportunity to engage with it. He’d like to pretend he doesn’t know why things have been tense, but he’s aware it’s been like this ever since Jun left.

It’s inevitable, the imbalance that gap leaves behind. Sure, the selkie hadn’t been any of their partners, but they’ve worked jobs with him. They’ve all lived together for over a year and a half at that point. You get to know someone after that long, and having them gone, especially in the explosive way Jun had left, does something.

But now? It’s like it never happened. The extra chair has been relegated to its old position as an extra surface for junk, and they’ve already stopped turning in that direction, looking for the selkie.

He has to hand it to them, Changbin’s team handles his ever-changing roster of partners well. They never make any of the new people feel unwelcome, but almost more importantly, they never raise too much issue when somebody else leaves. It’s one of those quiet, necessarily unspoken understandings that makes all of this work to the degree it does. They know Changbin’s not doing it on purpose. They also know that calling attention to the situation will only make it feel worse.

The familiar atmosphere, and the ability to return to it with little to no delay, is one of the things he appreciates most about the people currently sitting at the table with him. Though it’s certainly not the only thing.

For different reasons, Changbin is dreadfully attached to everyone here. To Jisung, for his ability to make even the worst situations seem trivial with just a smile and a laugh. To Hyunjin, for his sweet personality and the easy affection he shares that Changbin struggles to find with even the people bonded to him. Even Seungmin, for all his strangeness and his cryptic behavior, is good at shaking him out of his own head, in ways Changbin could never have predicted he needed.

And of course, he’s attached to Chan, for being the first true friend he ever made, and for being one of the most loyal and reliable leaders a hunter could ever ask for.

As Changbin takes another bite of his potato salad, he decides that he’s happy. Despite everything, despite the recent upheaval and the freshly healed scar on his chest and the little things that inevitably weigh on him, he’s content. He’s got his team, he’s got a job he doesn’t hate, there isn’t any more someone could ask for.

Dinner passes without too much trouble. Hyunjin insists on dessert, even though they didn’t have anything planned, but Seungmin solves that problem with mysterious ‘strawberry’ ice cream- it almost doesn’t taste like cherries!- that Changbin’s fairly certain they didn’t have in the freezer. After that, Jisung puts something on the TV that captivates his and Hyunjin’s attention, with Seungmin not far behind. As always, if they aren’t working, it’s enjoyable to just do nothing.

Changbin also appreciates that desire to kick back and relax, but… he can’t quite get his brain to shut off. Instead, he waits until an opportune moment before making a subtle escape within the first third of the movie. He gets a sad look from Hyunjin when he first gets up, but he makes a vague excuse of not being quite caught up on work and slips away. 

It’s fine, I’ll spend time with everyone later.

Creeping back into the laundry room, he rescues his clothes from the dryer, sorts out the uniform bits from the casual wear, and at least tries to fold some of it. It’s a failed task before it’s begun, but at least it’s in different baskets. At least he’ll have something clean to shove into his travel bags, and his vest doesn’t smell like acrid, toxic smoke.

With a looming sense of dread, Changbin glances at the binder of reports, which is sitting precisely where he left it. He doesn’t want to do paperwork, but he probably should. The sooner he gets it done, the sooner he can put it out of his mind. And the sooner he does that, the sooner he can start ignoring the bits of uncomfortable conversation he’s had with Chan and Seungmin today.

Grudgingly, he picks it up and sets it on the laundry basket before trudging off to his room.

It takes him a moment, but he gets everything put away. Whether it be the civilian clothes back into his rickety series of drawers that will always feel uncomfortably empty, to stuffing his uniforms into his travel bags. Mechanically, he takes the opportunity to restock the rest of his supplies. It takes him a bit of pawing through their various closets, but he replaces everything he’s used in his last few hunts, and even adds a couple things he didn’t have before.

Like burn cream! And one of Chan and Hyunjin’s spare protection charms. 

Last but not least, he refills his ammunition reserves before loading Gloria’s magazines and storing them in their designated pockets where they belong. The gun herself goes in her case and is left on Changbin’s bedside table. Nothing is going to come for him out here, in the middle of this dead zone, but paranoia is a bitch, and no eliminations hunter worth their salt keeps their weapon out of easy reach.

It’s only then, after he’s physically run out of other things to do, that Changbin sits down once again with his report and tries once again to fill it out.

From his room, he can hear the buzz of the TV, an animated film he thinks Jisung’s watched a hundred times. Leave it to hunters to find one thing that makes them happy and stick to it. Why struggle to find new things when the existing stuff they like is still there. It’s comfortable, where so much of their life isn’t.

Sighing, Changbin squints at the page before giving up and just jotting down the first things that come to mind.

He gives an overview of the job. What they were facing, how many of them were there, what methods he used to put them down. He has to dig around in the file he printed out of the job itself for the names of the local and district team leaders who would have initially handled the incident, then he puts down Yeonsik’s name as the hunter in charge.

From there, it’s just a dry recount of the events. He keeps it as brief as he can, summarizing the life or death encounter as unenthusiastically as one might a yearly checkup with the doctor. The Bureau wants details, but they don’t read those details most of the time. It’s only jobs that go wrong that get looked at more closely, that have their reports combed over and over for slivers of important information.

But these were some cockatrice up in the mountains, and no one cares about that. Not even him, honestly, now that it’s over.

Even with how basic he keeps everything, it still takes him at least an hour to correctly fill out the forms. He checks and double checks everything, then heaves himself back to his feet, intent on wrestling with the scanner until he can bully it into submission. 

The movie is still going when he creeps into the little alcove Chan has set aside for his office. It’s a tiny space, connected to everything but walled off enough to give it some semblance of privacy. If you stand in the right place, you can see every single one of the bedroom doors from that space. If he cranes his neck, Changbin can just see the living room from where he stands.

Jisung’s curled up on the couch, front and center, crowing along with his favorite lines, and gasping at the screen like he doesn’t have the whole thing memorized. Seungmin is tucked into his usual armchair, folded up beneath a blanket and only half paying attention. Hyunjin, meanwhile, is sprawled out across Jisung’s lap, no doubt mostly asleep at this point, only tacitly participating because he’s decided he doesn’t want to be alone.

Changbin could rejoin them, if he wanted to. Part of him does. There’s room, more than enough of it. Void knows they’d eagerly welcome his presence.

Quietly, he wakes up the shared computer instead and fiddles with the printer until he successfully manages to scan his report and upload it to a place he can find it. He feels like every time he touches this damn thing, it works differently. Considering Seungmin lives in the house, that might not be far off from the truth.

Still, he manages. The proper emails get sent. One to the Bureau’s record department. One to their team’s direct handler. One to the people that handle their salary. Then an extra one to Yeonsik, for compiling with the rest of the hunter-related job records for this particular threat. It’s an entire process, and none of it is fun, especially when he’s forced to contend with the internet out here, but at least now it’s done.

Now and only now, Changbin can rest.

He almost doesn’t. He almost goes back to his room and finds something else to do, whether it be dicking around on his phone or reading a book or hell, even catching up on old paperwork, but when Changbin steps through his bedroom door, Hyunjin’s waiting for him, and all other plans fly out the window.

“Yes?” he asks, looking at the phoenix standing before him in a haphazard combination of Chan’s shorts and one of Changbin’s tee shirts. 

Hyunjin pointedly sits on the bed. “I’m sleeping here tonight.”

“I thought-” Gesturing loosely in the direction of the living room, Changbin raises an eyebrow. “You were busy?”

“I’ve seen that movie so many times,” Hyunjin bemoans, flopping over into Changbin’s rumpled sheets. “And you’ve been gone for so many days.”

“Only… two.” Changbin pauses. “Three?”

“Forever,” Hyunjin confirms, without missing a beat.

Changbin almost declines. There’s too much in his head, there has been for days now. Weeks. Moving would be better for him, right? Until he literally can’t move any longer and passes out. That’s how he gets by most days, that’s a sure fire way to never have to think ever.

But… Hyunjin looks soft and warm, already snuggling into one of Changbin’s pillows, and it’s late. At least nine in the evening, probably creeping closer to ten. He could stay up later, but does he actually want to? Really? Or does he just feel obligated.

The final nail in the coffin, inevitably, is Hyunjin turning big red eyes on him and quietly admitting, “I’ll be lonely without Chan-hyung here.”

What little resolve he’d dredged up cracking, Changbin’s shoulders slump. “Yeah, alright,” he mutters. “Let me get ready for bed.”

A couple minutes later, he’s stripped down to sleep shorts, has the lights off, and a phoenix clinging happily to him. Despite the energy still in his system, in this position, he finds it quickly slipping away. There’s stuff to think about, but it doesn’t feel nearly as important now. Not with Hyunjin trilling softly against his chest, and feathers tickling his nose.

Whether it be his next job, or whatever mysterious thing Chan needs him for or even the matter of his recently departed partner, Changbin can worry about it later. When he’s less comfortable, and there’s a more pressing need to think about it.

Until then, he thinks he’ll finally get some sleep.

He thinks he’s earned it.

 

᚛ᚒᚖᚒ᚜

Notes:

I just think that establishing normal before ruining it is important and I should have done it ages ago.

Chapter 4: Fae

Notes:

Wowow a chapter

Happy chapter 4 and not almost chapter 6, which I totally copy/pasted into the text box. Like a loser.

Enjoy~

᚛ᚒᚖᚒ᚜

 

“I got a note last night about the cockatrice job.”

Changbin fully expects a comment like that to come out of Chan’s mouth. It is Thursday, after all, their unofficially agreed upon day to go over any lingering business that’s built up over the week. What he doesn’t expect is Seungmin settling down in his place at the table, a pink piece of stationary clutched in one hand.

Slowly, Chan looks up from his plate of reheated curry to Seungmin, before turning to Changbin. “I… was under the impression you finished taking care of that one.” When he doesn’t get a response, the hunter’s brows pinch together. “Did you not file a report again?” 

“Oh, Changbin didn’t miss anything official.” Seungmin assures the table at large, his black eyes dropping back to his paper. “This isn’t from the Bureau, this is a handwritten letter from Ryujin, actually.” It takes Changbin a second to place the name, but after a second’s consideration, a bright pink fairy with tiny sharp teeth pops to mind. “He sent it by carrier pigeon last night. In ancient faespeak, no less.”

“I’m surprised it got through the dead zone,” Changbin mutters.

Mouth still full of his last bite, Jisung leans over Seungmin’s shoulder and squints at the page. “Who even uses calligraphy these days?”

 Planting a hand on the table, Hyunjin’s feathers puff up. “Is that what smelled like rose water? It was driving me up the wall last night.” Pointing at Chan, the phoenix insists, “I told you I wasn’t going crazy, I knew there was something weird in the air.”

Ignoring the table’s commentary, Chan leans forward and purses his lips. “Dare I ask why you’re getting letters by carrier pigeon from Yeonsik-ssi’s team?”

“Oh, not from the whole team, Just Ryujin.” Waving dismissively, Seungmin fixes Changbin with a dazzling smile that contains far too many teeth. “I’ve been reliably informed that you almost got Ryujin’s husband killed not once but twice last week. He’s a little peeved about it, and would request that you don’t do it again, unless you’d like to permanently lose the use of your limbs.”

Coughing, Chan lurches forward in his seat and swings his head around to Changbin. “I’m sorry, what did you do?”

“Oh, I didn’t realize they got married.” Puffing out his cheeks, Jisung gives a decisive nod. “Good for them.”

“Not the takeaway here, Jisung.” Letting out a thin sound of distress through his nose, Chan’s face twists into a grimace. “Bin, I thought you said it went fine. Why am I only finding out now that you’re endangering other hunters?”

Sighing tiredly, Changbin dips his head, slightly chagrined. “It wasn’t that serious, hyung.”

“That’s not the point.” The concern in the hunter’s voice is plain. “How many times do I have to tell you that this sort of shit is what gets us written up to the Bureau. I don’t need that phone call.”

Attempting a shrug, Changbin tries for a smile. “Clearly the two of us are fine now. No harm no foul.”

“I mean, he went to the trouble of putting a minor curse on the letter, so a little bit of harm and foul.” Setting it down by his plate, Seungmin picks up his spoon, entirely unconcerned with the conversation he’s sparked. “Obviously he knew I’d get rid of it, but it’s the principle of the thing. You know he’s serious if he’s pulling out magic like that.”

“Oh fantastic.” Rubbing at his face, Chan mutters, “Do I even want to know what kind of curse it was.”

“It’d have just made Changbin’s hand rot and fall off.” Taking a bite of his curry, Seungmin pulls a pleased face and nods in Hyunjin’s direction. “It’s just as good the second day! I told you it was all muscle memory, it just takes a bit of work to get the skill back.” Which gets him a pleased trill from the phoenix, accompanied by a flair of tail-feathers. 

Mouth falling open, Changbin stares at the rose-smelling letter with a certain amount of alarm. “I’m sorry, I realize I shouldn’t have left him on his own, but it was one cockatrice chick, and he was fine. Besides, the other one almost crushed me, so I think the two of us are even.” Shaking his head, he goes back to picking at his food. “I don’t see how losing a hand is an appropriate response.”

“Oh, it’s not that bad. Hands grow back.” As Jisung grabs for the letter, Seungmin waves his spoon in Changbin’s direction. “And he addressed that, actually. Apparently you ‘almost dying as well’ doesn’t make it okay. Husbands are difficult to replace.”

Instinctively, Changbin cringes at that. He’s been very careful not to mention the fact he nearly died to most of the table. Judging by the way Chan’s face falls and Hyunjin gasps, his decision to omit the truth had been a good one.

At once, Hyunjin is grabbing for Changbin’s shoulders, doing his best to turn the hunter around in his chair. “You almost died? Changbinnie, why didn’t you tell me?” Already sniffling, pulling at his jacket and smoothing uncomfortably warm taloned fingers over his cheeks, the man leans closer, like he’ll be able to find some grievous wound if he looks hard enough. “I would have healed you! I would have made you soup! I would have- well, I’d have done something.”

Shifting away slightly, half prepared for the man to catch fire, Changbin meets Hyunjin’s scarlet eyes. “It’s alright, it wasn’t serious.”

Shaking him, the phoenix sticks out his bottom lip. “Yes it is.”

“It’s bad enough that you ran off without telling me first,” Chan huffs from the head of the table, leaning back in his chair so he can cross his arms. Disappointment is etched into every line of his face. “But this was- oh, what did the paperwork say? A C class threat?” 

“B class,” Changbin corrects under his breath.

“Worse! The least you could have done was let Jinnie or I put a couple protection spells on you before you left, but you didn’t even do that.” Gesturing at Hyunjin, who is worriedly pawing at what remains of the acid burns on Changbin’s arms, Chan’s frown deepens. Almost like he’s trying to say, look, you’ve gone and made Hyunjin sad. “I can’t have a fae trying to curse you, Changbin, I can hardly keep you alive as it is.”

“I think he’s doing a pretty good job of that himself, actually.” Nodding stoutly, Jisung offers Changbin a thumbs up over the table. “You looked like you were in one piece when you got home. And Seungmin’s right, most pieces grow back.”

“That’s not- They don’t-” Groaning, Chan looks away. “Now I probably have to send Yeonsik-ssi an apology email.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it.” Tapping Chan’s arm lightly, Seungmin smiles at their leader disarmingly until he wilts back into his chair. “I’ve already sent a letter back. He just wanted to voice his concerns.”

“Right, voice his concerns.” Sighing, Chan picks up his spoon and stabs it into his curry with unnecessary force. “By trying to curse one of my hunters. As one would of course expect.”

“You’re not allowed to let any fae kill you.” Squeezing one of Changbin’s hands in both of his, Hyunjin fixes him with a serious if wobbly-lipped expression. “I won’t let them.”

Patiently, Changbin runs a comforting hand through Hyunjin’s feathery hair, quickly patting out one of the tiny fires that’s sprouted up. “I promise I’m not going to die. I’ve met Ryujin-ssi.” Remembering his experience with the tiny fae, he snorts. “I don’t think he can kill me. He was just worried about his-” He rolls the word around on his tongue for a moment before slowly venturing, “Husband.”

“Oh, he can absolutely kill you,” Seungmin assures Changbin. “Jisung, pass the pepper, why are you keeping it all the way down there- no, Ryujin is perfectly capable, but then he’d have to talk to me about it, and that wouldn’t go well for anyone.”

Clearly trying to shift the topic of conversation away from Changbin’s imminent death, Chan turns to Seungmin. “I didn’t realize you were such good friends.”

“Of course we are.” The man smiles brightly. “I was there to officiate the last thirty-three contract transfers. Since the poor bureaucrat who originally wrote up his contract died, someone has to. It’d be a shame if we weren’t friends after all this time.”

Catching Hyunjin’s pointed pout out of the corner of his eye, Changbin winces. “Okay, so maybe he could kill me, but it’s fine. I’m not trying to cause problems. And it all worked out in the end.”

“Exactly,” Jisung agrees decidedly, pushing his empty plate away from him. “See, my question is: why didn’t we get an invitation to the wedding, Seungmin? I would have thought for sure Yeonsik-hyung would at least send you one.” Thinking about it for a moment, he puffs out his cheeks. “I can’t believe he got married without telling us.”

“Oh, they haven’t had the wedding yet,” Seungmin assures his partner, patting Jisung’s shoulder consolingly. When that gets him a baffled look, he shrugs. “The paperwork was signed ages ago, Ryujin is just waiting for Yeonsik to realize.”

Pondering this for a moment, Jisung seems to decide this makes perfect sense because he nods and goes back to looking at the pink letter. “Well, congratulations to them.”

Changbin purses his lips. “Realize…?”

“I hope they’re very happy,” Hyunjin announces, still holding Changbin’s hands. “They already have so many children.”

Meanwhile, Changbin stares down at his swiftly cooling food and tries to recall any children being involved with Yeonsik’s group.

Clearing his throat, Chan tips his chin and fixes a mildly concerned look on Seungmin. “I- someone’s told Ryujin-ssi the partnership contract doesn’t count as a marriage certificate, right? I’ve signed one of those before. Hell, I’ve signed multiple. I’m pretty sure it doesn’t work like that.” 

Taking a pensive bite of his curry, Seungmin furrows his brows. “Do you want to tell an archfae he’s misinterpreting a contract?”

Head snapping up so fast it puts a crick in his neck, Changbin splutters. “A what?”

“If they aren’t married, what will happen to all of their kids,” Hyunjin wonders aloud, pulling Changbin’s hands against his chest and looking across the table to Jisung like he’ll have the answers.

Pausing in his attempt to steal food off of Seungmin’s plate, Jisung’s expression arches and he glances to either side before visibly fishing for an answer. “Well, I’m sure they can still have joint custody. Sijun says they’re both alright, and I think Yuchen likes both of them as well. It’ll be fine.”

“Okay good.” Relaxing, Hyunjin smiles brightly. “They’re nice. And Gahou-ssi has really pretty wings.”

“As if Ryujin would ever file for divorce. Imagine, breaking a contract that casually.” Swatting Jisung’s hand away, Seungmin grabs for the letter and offers it to Chan. “Speaking of filing, we should probably keep that. Just in case.” When Chan hesitates, he sighs. “Don’t worry, if your hand falls off I’ll fix it. We just don’t want to lose track of any fae promises, and remembering them off the top of my head is a pain.”

“Right.” Gingerly plucking the rose-scented stationery from Seungmin’s hands, Chan gives it a look, pulls a face, and folds it up. As a wave of perfume wafts over the table, Hyunjin sneezes twice and a feather falls out of his hair. “Can we please all agree not to annoy any more hyper-powerful beings for at least the next week? Actually, make it until Sunday of next week. I really don’t need anything trying to end the world.”

Pulling his hands free of Hyunjin’s grasp, Changbin holds them innocently in the air. “I don’t plan on doing anything but my job. Which, hopefully, won’t involve causing any destruction near here.” Not that it ever would; between Chan and Hyunjin, the wards on their little base are strong enough to keep everyone but the most powerful creatures out unless otherwise invited. And if that somehow isn’t enough, Seungmin’s general presence has them in a several mile-wide dead zone. It’s not like they have much to worry about.

Still, Chan makes a point of looking between everyone else at the table, waiting for more promises of good behavior. As if they ever manage to keep them for long.

“I won’t do anything destructive,” Jisung promises easily, already back to trying to steal Seungmin’s food. “Unless Seungmin starts it. Then I’m obligated to help finish it.”

Raising his hand, Hyunjin offers Chan a beaming smile. “I won’t set anything on fire.”

“Or run with anything sharp. Please,” the older hunter begs.

“Not unless I have to get somewhere fast,” Hyunjin agrees, bobbing his head sagely.

Before Chan can say anything in response to that, Seungmin lays a hand on the man’s shoulder and blinks big black eyes at him. “Don’t be silly Chan, I can’t stop everything from trying to end the world. But I can promise not to be the reason it ends until at least next Sunday.”

Sighing, Chan looks down at his plate with a certain amount of defeat. “I guess that’s all I can expect of you guys.” It smooths out into exasperated fondness when Hyunjin leans in and presses a kiss to his cheek that leaves little flakes of ash behind. “On a less serious topic of conversation, Jisung, how did your last job go? You never did get me your report.”

As Jisung launches into a dramatic recount of rogue water elementals somewhere on the coast of Canada and conversation evens out, Changbin is finally given a chance to eat his dinner. Only then does he actually relax. It’s not the first time he’s been badgered about one of his jobs, and it probably won’t be the last. Usually, he avoids it by keeping his reports as vague as possible, but every now and then he forgets to self censor all of the concerning bits. And, he thinks as he stares at the pink letter Chan’s tucked into the pocket of his shirt, sometimes a mutual friend decides to be a little too honest.

He gets it though. Their group only ever takes care of dangerous problems. Changbin can’t even remember the last time they were handed anything below a C class threat. Usually, they’re the people that get called when no one else knows what to do. Shit happens to people like them, and Chan can only let go of the reins so much before he starts to worry. Because back in the day, it used to be easier to worry.

Changbin still remembers when it had just been him and Chan. And void, hadn’t those been wild days. An experimental regional team the NHII had been willing to slap together, without a monster partner to their name. There had been a weird vacuum of hunters in central Europe, so the two of them had been picked up and dropped there, promising funding and partners if they could just be patient.

Obviously, they hadn’t been patient. Chan was already a seasoned hunter who had been through two partners and he’d been ready to be in charge of something. That being said, he probably hadn’t been ready to be in charge of Changbin, who had still been grappling with the idea of authority back then. But what could you do? When the Bureau finally signed the paperwork, it was far too late to start backing out. Eventually, he’d figured it out, but it had been a bit of trial and error.

It didn’t help that the hunter put under him had been young. Changbin’s memories of being a fresh hunter are admittedly sketchy. He knows he was a lot, especially back then. If anything, he’s mellowed out with age and experience. Back then, he’d been invincible. Armed and dangerous and suddenly caught in the weird tension of having an older hunter around who was trying to play friend, brother, mentor, and boss all at once.

Needless to say, it hadn’t gone well at first, but they’d learned to respect each other within that first year, and it was only uphill from there.

Changbin had been the first of them to get a partner, and even though these days no one so much as mentions his name, the memories he has of those days still stand out as being good. He’d already been working eliminations, and having someone just as sharp and vicious as him had been nice. The grizzly bear ursid had been big and mean when he needed to be, but there’d never been anyone Changbin understood more. 

He had Chan when they needed any help containing a threat, and when it couldn’t be contained, Changbin had a bestia and Gloria to solve the problem. What more did they need?

Except even in those days they’d been making a name for themselves. Changbin and his partner were practically unrivaled when it came to putting down dangerous non-human threats, and Chan’s magic was blossoming into something scary. So when the Bureau had dropped Jisung into their lap, they’d actually been ready. Or at least been so good at pretending they’d fooled even themselves.

Eyes drifting to the man in question, Changbin watches absently as Jisung laughs at something Hyunjin just said. Chan will swear until he’s blue in the face that he’d been the one to pick Jisung, and Changbin has no reason to argue with that claim. It certainly feels like it, considering how well he’d fallen into step with their growing team. With his complete lack of fear when it came to anything hunting related, and his remarkable ability to adapt, it had been easy to let him fill the weird undefinable gap there was in what they were capable of.

Identification is half the battle, Chan would always say, even though both he and Changbin had been shit at it. Thankfully, Jisung wasn’t. That made a lot of these battles go a lot faster. And, as an added bonus, he was the kind of person you could drop into a situation, and be assured that a few weeks later, he’d stumble back out in mostly one piece.

Seungmin had been somewhere after that. Gaze sliding over to the non-human in question, Changbin’s brows pinch. They… Still don’t know what Seungmin is. When asked, they had usually been able to come up with a fairly good list of what he wasn’t, but the moment they tried to settle on what the man was, it all fell apart. The last time one of them had tried to record a detailed description of Seungmin on paper, Chan had blacked out only to wake up on the floor of the bathroom, covered in turmeric powder and trying to eat his notebook.

Since then, they collectively agreed not to ask.

They’d stumbled across the man quite by accident, but by the time they realized how dangerous he was, he’d already claimed the room at the end of the hall and had started chipping in on household chores. Seungmin had stuck to them like a dog herding sheep, and they were collectively too attached to ask him why. And then Jisung started going on jobs with him, and there was no going back. Which just left Chan with the confusing trail of paperwork and then permits to keep a non-human like him on the team.

An unenviable job, but it had been worth it.

Catching Changbin’s stare, Seungmin quirks a small smile, like he can read the trip down memory lane off of his expression. Puffing out a breath, Changbin rolls his eyes and looks away, even though he’s smiling as he does so.

Hyunjin had been a threat they’d been sent to deal with, amusingly enough. You wouldn’t think it to look at the phoenix, but once upon a time he hadn’t been quite so docile. It came with the frequent dying, reviving, and subsequent memory loss associated with his species. Jisung and Seungmin had been sent in to investigate a forest fire that had been inexplicably raging for three weeks. They’d anticipated a rogue fire elemental, that or a feral dragon. Instead, they’d come across Hyunjin, who had just resurrected and was helplessly lost.

The rest, Changbin supposes, as he watches Hyunjin happily chatter to Chan, had been history.

Those four years, with the six of them together. Those had been the golden years.

But times changed, accidents happened. Sometimes things go sour and people move on. Sometimes, a small grave without a body is all you get. Admittedly, Changbin isn’t too upset with how it is now. This is his family. They’ve been his family for long enough that he’s starting to lose track of time. He likes all of them, and is happy to come home after a job. Even if they give him shit for his recklessness, even if they’re strange and confusing at the best of times. They’re still his.

It’s probably something like what Chan feels, that stab of protectiveness when he looks at the people gathered around him. At this point, he’s used to it.

Jisung kicks him under the table. Attention jumping to the man, Changbin pulls a comically skeptical face, which just gets him an equally contorted expression. “What’s up? You look-” He searches for a word before finally settling on, “Constipated.”

“Oi, fuck you!” Kicking the man in retaliation, Changbin lets out a sound of disgust. “I was thinking.”

“About?”

Clearing his throat, embarrassed despite himself, Changbin waves a hand and looks away. “Just reflecting on not pissing off anymore archfae.”

“A wise decision.” Carefully stacking his empty plate with Chan’s, before beckoning for Jisung’s, Seungmin flashes a smile at Changbin. “I like you with all of your free will intact.”

“Same, generally,” he mutters, collecting his and Hyunjin’s plates before passing them off. “Not really in the market for any fae bullshit.” From the head of the table, Chan coughs and Changbin grins. “What? Yeonsik-ssi’s team isn’t bad, but I think they’d drive me crazy eventually. And that’s saying something.”

“I’m sure you’d get used to it.” Getting to his feet, plates and utensils in hand, Seungmin chirps, “On the flip side, Ryujin probably wouldn’t want to keep you, so you won’t have to.”

Before Changbin can squawk in protest and Seungmin can vanish off with their dishes, Chan raises a hand. As the attention of the table instantly swivels to their leader, the man purses his lips before gesturing Seungmin back to his seat. “Ah, we- there’s still some business we should talk about. While we’re all still present.”

Instinctively, Changbin sits up, thoughts instantly going to earlier in the week when Chan had dipped out on a solo trip to a Bureau facility. They hadn’t heard anything about it after, so he’d assumed it hadn’t been important, but judging by the look on Chan’s face, it is.

That strained smile only means so many things. Sure, Thursdays are usually team meeting days, but typically when something  big happens, they all sort of know it’s coming, but Changbin can’t think of anything, and even Jisung and Hyunjin look clueless. Which can’t mean anything good.

Sucking in a breath, Changbin crosses his arms and leans back in his chair. “What’s up, hyung?”

Letting out one of his little half-laughs that just shakes his shoulders and doesn’t actually escape his mouth, Jisung tries for a smile. “It’s nothing bad, right?”

Chan’s expression tightens. “No, no not bad. Just -ah, a change.” Ominous, but Changbin chooses not to start worrying just yet. If only because he’s convinced if it was something horrible, he’d already know about it.

His forced calm doesn’t extend to the rest of the team. At once, Hyunjin is lurching forward in his seat, his eyes wide. “What kind of change? It's bad isn’t it.”

“He just said it wasn’t,” Jisung argues at once, before flicking his eyes back to Chan. “You actually mean that, right? It’s not bad.”

Managing a laugh, Chan shakes his head and reaches under his chair. “It’s fine, it’s just I wish I could have told you all sooner, but our schedules just haven’t been lining up. And I wanted everyone here for it.” A thin, official looking folder hits the table, marked with the spiraling seal of the NHII as well as the Bureau’s stamp. “Some things just need to be talked about as a team.”

The moment the yellow folder hits the table, Changbin stiffens. Because he recognizes it, or has at least seen enough like it to know what it is on sight. And the only thing he can think is that he hasn’t even been given the customary six months for his old bond-mark to fade.

Jisung and Hyunjin are a little slower on the uptake. Seungmin, to no one’s surprise, looks entirely unfazed. He just settles back into his seat and nudges one of Chan’s elbows.

Lurching into motion, Chan flips the folder open. “We’re getting someone new on the team.” Before anyone has a chance to react, he’s barreling ahead, spreading official looking documents out over the tabletop. “It’s a transfer, so he’s already been in the system, which means we won’t have too much training to do. It is a case of community service, however, so the usual collar rules apply. I know it’s been a while since we’ve had anyone with a functional collar here, but it shouldn’t be too difficult to get back into those habits.”

Running a finger over said non-functional collar, Seungmin tips his head to the side. “Are you going to give them his name?” It’s a comment Changbin chooses to ignore because it makes him feel uncomfortably out of the loop. Considering this is his life that’s about to be upended, he’s not fond of being forgotten.

“Right.” Grabbing for the cover page, Chan slides it into the middle of the table. At once, Hyunjin and Jisung are fighting over it as they both try to get a good look at the grainy photograph. “His name is Lee Felix. He’s a fae.”

Jisung laughs. “Oh no, not more of those.” When no one joins in on it, he sucks in a breath and finally pulls the piece of paper out of Hyunjin’s taloned hands. “He’s pretty.”

Visibly, Chan withholds a sigh. “That’s not the point.” Digging through some more papers, he finds what he was looking for and hands it to Seungmin, like he’s expecting it to be passed around the table. “He’s an everflower, specifically, but I don’t expect or want anyone to walk on eggshells. He’s had a rough go of things so far, so I’d like us to be welcoming.”

“We’re always welcoming,” Hyunjin insists, already trying to grab the cover page out of Jisung’s hands again, knocking over the pepper shaker in the process. “Ooh, he is pretty! I like his hair.”

“Again, not the point,” Chan stresses, as he starts circulating more papers around the table. “As you might have guessed with the collar, he’s not an entirely willing volunteer. He’s here because he committed a crime. So also try to keep that in mind when you’re dealing with him.” Giving pointed looks at Jisung and Seungmin, the man insists, “The goal is to help him, not make things worse.”

“I would never make things worse unintentionally.” Seungmin’s smile is positively saintly, if one can ignore all the teeth.

As he grabs the papers Seungmin is handing him, Jisung shoots a hurt look at Chan. “Hyung, I’d never. What’s he in for, anyways?” Glancing down at Felix’s details, he mutters, “It can’t be that bad, otherwise he’d be in prison, not coming to us. Junseong was only in for property… damage…” His voice fades as his eyes widen slowly.

Instantly picking up on the change, Hyunjin is tossing the cover sheet sideways at Changbin so he can yank the other paperwork out of Jisung’s loosened grasp. “It can’t be that bad,” he insists, already reading it over. “Channie would never bring someone actually dangerous into-“

Changbin has the sense to yank this paper out of the phoenix’s hands before it catches on fire, along with the man’s hair. Even then, it takes dumping half a cup of water on his head to put out the flames, which just leaves Hyunjin distressed, wet, and smelling distinctly of burnt chicken.

Wincing, Chan holds up his hands. “Look, the official documentation makes it seem bad, but it’s not. I promise.” Though his voice is level, the thinly veiled stress in his eyes is unmistakable. “There’s a lot of nuance that goes into things like this, and the Bureau would never have let him into the system in the first place if he was actually a danger. Besides, this whole program is about giving people second chances.”

“Hyung,” Jisung mutters weakly, his shoulders sagging.

“The courts ruled it as self-defense,” Chan insists at once, giving up on passing the folder’s contents around the table. “And don’t you act like you’re worried about dying. You signed up for this job and you work with Seungmin. Which, last I checked, has a much greater chance to end in death than any everflower is capable of.” His eyes flick to the non-human in question. “No offense, Seungmin.”

“Why would I be offended?” Seungmin bats his eyelashes at Chan. “You’re right.”

“Okay, yeah, but Seungmin isn’t going to try to kill me in my sleep,” Jisung argues, crossing his arms. “I know I can trust him. I don’t know Felix. How the hell did a murderer get put into the system?”

“I know I do it a lot, but I don’t like dying,” Hyunjin adds helpfully, his eyes wide.

Pursing his lips tightly, Changbin’s eyes finally drop to the slightly singed paper in his hands. It’s a piece of his criminal records, all stamped and dated, complete with fingerprints, of which fae only have one, and a full list of where the court proceedings are being kept. Below the useless stuff, he finds the charges, all seven of them, obfuscated behind various levels of legal speak.

The meanings behind the words, however, are abundantly clear. Possession of a deadly weapon. Unauthorized use of force outside of territory lines. Manslaughter. A few minor, related charges. Admittedly, Changbin’s eyes are stuck on the manslaughter one. Yes, it isn’t murder, but it’s close, and it means the man is responsible for killing a human.

“Like I said, it was self-defense. It’s just… You know how the laws lean.” Trying for a positive expression, the older hunter glances to Hyunjin, who’s still gently smoldering. “I’d never let someone into this house who I think poses an actual threat, and it was a favor to Junhyung. Who, I don’t think I need to remind everyone, has always been there with his team to help when we need it.”

Puffing out his cheeks, Jisung gives Chan a hard look. “Okay yeah, but why does Junhyung need us to take him?” When Chan just purses his lips, Jisung crosses his arms and stares at the rest of the table as if to say see?

Carefully, Changbin sets Felix’s rap sheet down. “Not a threat, huh.”

Chan doesn’t meet his eyes, but then, he’s been avoiding eye-contact since the conversation began. Because he knows just as well as Changbin does where this is leading. There’s only one of them who doesn’t have a bond active right now, and for all of the other hunter’s promises that he’d finally have a chance to be on his own for a couple years before being given another partner, here’s proof to the contrary.

Right, like it ever works out. And now you’re going to… What, dump a murderous fae on my lap? Like that has any outcome that’s remotely positive. He doesn’t say it though, Changbin just bites his tongue and picks up another one of the forgotten papers.

“Felix won’t be a threat.” When Seungmin says it, it’s with a great deal more confidence. That and a certain vibration behind his words, like just him saying it aloud will make it so. “I believe everyone here is perfectly capable of handling anything he could do, and if not I will ensure the safety of everyone involved.” While that has the possibility to mean just about anything, especially coming from Seungmin’s mouth, at least it’s something.

Grudgingly relaxing, Jisung slumps back in his chair. “Well… Alright, so he probably won’t kill anyone, but it’s still a big deal! And isn’t Junhyung trained to handle fae? What happened that was bad enough he’d need to come here?”

“Ah, well…” Chan clears his throat. “Felix might have attacked Kangsung.”

Jisung squawks in alarm, and Hyunjin’s tail feathers flare behind him. “Attacked?” the phoenix repeats. “Were they partners?” Chan doesn’t answer immediately, but the face he pulls makes it abundantly clear what the truth is. “Channie I know we won’t die, but he doesn’t sound very nice. That seems stressful.”

Absently reaching over and smoothing down a few of his partner’s feathers, Chan lets out a long, low breath “No, he probably won’t be very nice at first, but… I’ve already signed the transfer papers, and I don’t want to hand him back to the Bureau. We all know how well that would go.” Even though he’d already implied this was a done deal, the confirmation that this non-human will be arriving whether they want him to or not adds yet another wet blanket to an already foul atmosphere.

We’re taking a charity case, aren’t we? Glancing down at the document he holds, Changbin scans the information about the fae’s background. Most of it is pretty typical. He came from a traditionally fae territory, his clan is listed, along with the name of the current Bellflower matriarch. Changbin only knows enough about everflowers to know he’s had to deal with one or two. He knows they typically don’t stray too far from home, and the ones that do are the ones that have gone, for want of a more technical term, crazy.

Glancing again at the location, he purses his lips. Right, because that’s what we do with territorial fae, we send them halfway across the planet. Junhyung’s base would have been closer to this fae’s home, which is probably why he got Felix first. And now that it hasn’t worked out, he’s being pawned off on whoever will take him. Unfortunately for their group, Chan is soft hearted, and wouldn’t you know it, Changbin is partner-less once again.

Changbin can practically see the logical progression.

As if to back up his assumptions, Chan quietly mutters, “I couldn’t just let them throw him into the Cradle. If it doesn’t work out, then it doesn’t, but Junhyung clearly saw something in him, because he wanted to give him another chance. Even after Felix got violent.” It’s not a bad point, and Changbin can see Hyunjin hesitantly nodding along to it. Though that might have more to do with Chan’s tone of voice than it actually being a good argument. “I’ll send him back if I have to, but can we at least try? I’m sure if we give him some time to settle down, it’ll turn out just fine.”

After a long moment of silence, Seungmin places both hands flat on the table. “I think a chance is a perfectly reasonable thing to ask for.” As if he was ever going to disagree. Looking at everyone else at the table with those unreadable black eyes, he waits for an argument. When none arise, he elbows Jisung. “Come on, what you’re thinking is best said aloud. Just because I can read your mind doesn’t mean everyone else can.”

Startling slightly at being picked on, Jisung clears his throat. “I don’t know, I mean everything could go fine. And I don’t want to throw anybody to the wolves. I just…” Nervously, he shifts in his seat and glances at Changbin quickly before looking away. “I don’t know, it’s not like we don’t also kill people. Like yeah we do it legally, but tomato potato, right?”

Chan wrinkles his nose. “That’s not-“

“Exactly!” Seungmin chirps, cutting off whatever Chan had been about to say. “Really, I think the NHII is somewhere he’d fit in perfectly.”

Stomach twisting, Changbin stares at the table. He knows it’s immature of him, but he feels betrayed. Not just by Jisung’s open comparison of what he does to murder, but also by the fact he’d agree with this in the first place. How is he supposed to say no if he’s the only one arguing the point? Especially when he’s said a total of four words this entire conversation.

Even before Hyunjin speaks, Changbin knows what he’s going to say. “I always like making new friends,” the phoenix ventures, still distractedly leaning into the hand Chan has buried in his damp feathery hair. “And you’re all very good at handling scary people.” Like that’s enough to make up his mind, he nods once. “I think I’d get along with him.”

Exhaling slowly, Chan manages a small smile. “Yeah, I think we all will.” 

And hell, they probably will, but they’re not the ones who are going to have to deal with him. They’re not the ones who are looking at having their lives upended yet again, rearranging everything for someone who probably won’t stick around in the first place. As something sour builds up in the back of his throat, Changbin looks down at the cover sheet of the fae’s file, at the little black and white picture beside the name.

Despite the absolutely terrible quality, it’s plain to see the man is striking. His expression is surly, his eyebrows tightly drawn together over piercing eyes, but it’s not enough to hide the refinement of his posture, the doll-like pout of his lips, and the delicate structure of his face. Most of his features are traditionally fairy, from the pointed ears, to the faint patterns under his skin, to the insect-like wings tightly folded against his back. There’s something regal about the way he keeps his head tipped back, like despite the thin metal band around his throat, he’s still above this, and it’s somehow only further accented by the long, dark hair that falls around his shoulders.

Even though it’s just his mug-shots, he’s beautiful. And yet the only thing Changbin sees in those eyes is anger.

“Changbin?”

Glancing up at the sound of his name, Changbin realizes that the whole table is staring at him. Seungmin has gone absolutely still, black eyes riveted on his face. Hyunjin has stopped tapping clawed feet against the floor, and even Jisung is resisting the urge to fiddle with his hands. Slowly, Changbin looks to the side and finds Chan finally looking at him, one of those frustratingly leaderly expressions on his face. Like now that he knows he has support, he can finally face the person who’s life this decision is actually going to affect.

The thing that’s been building up in the back of his throat threatens to spill out of his mouth in an ugly mess of words, but for the time being, Changbin swallows it back. He wants to get upset, actually, he wants to throw a fit, but he doesn’t know what to say that’ll sound remotely coherent. And Chan’s just staring at him expectantly, waiting for him to agree that this is a great idea and that of course he’ll take on a new partner without a word of complaint. Because this is his job, and ultimately he has to, right?

Working his jaw around all of the things he probably should say but can’t, Changbin looks away. “Yeah, fine, let’s bring on a new team member. I’m sure it’ll go great.” Wow, try to sound even more disingenuous, why don’t you? Fingers tightening over the papers in his hands, he quietly adds, “I trust your judgment, hyung.” It feels like a lie right now, but that’s fine, usually it’s true.

Anything to get Chan to point that pitying expression elsewhere.

After a long moment of tense silence, Chan looks away. “Well, sounds like it’s decided then. Like I said, he’ll be here this coming week, so try to keep your schedules clear, at least for his arrival date.”

“Right, we’ll just ask the world not to have any problems for a few days.” Laughing, the sound a clear release of nervous tension, Jisung pushes away from the table. “Seungmin and I will do our best to be there.”

Nodding, Seungmin grabs for the forgotten dishes and gets back to his feet. “We wouldn’t leave you to deal with it alone, Chan.”

“I’m wherever you are,” Hyunjin chirps guilelessly, patting Chan’s shoulder with ashy fingers. “Besides, I want to meet him!”

Chan dips his head. “Thanks. I’ll let you guys know when I have the exact times worked out.”

“Good.” Beckoning for Hyunjin, Seungmin hums, “Now come help me clean the kitchen. I’m not doing it alone again.”

As the two non-humans wander their way out of the room, Jisung looks between Chan and Changbin before coughing awkwardly. “Uh… Probably should- should get that report written, huh?” Swiftly getting to his feet, he takes a step back before offering them stilted salutes. “Don’t uh… Don’t stay up too late, I guess.” When all he gets as a response is one of Chan’s thinner smiles, he stuffs his hands in his pockets and nervously wanders out of the room.

Drawing a deep breath, Chan makes a point of looking at Changbin. He’s still got that fucking leader look on his face, and Changbin wants him to stop. To just drop the pretense and be honest about what he’d been thinking when he told Junhyung yes. To explain why he waited until it was too late to change anything to finally tell the team. To admit that, yeah, this isn’t a good idea.

But he doesn’t, he just folds his hands and says, “We need to talk.”

“He’s going to be my partner, isn’t he?”

“Bin-“

“No, please don’t.” Jaw tightening, Changbin drops the papers in his hands to the table. They scatter, just like the rest of the folder. “That’s why Junhyung called you, right? That’s why you said yes. Because I don’t have a partner.” And I’m the convenient place to drop new non-humans, because hey, even if they don’t stay, I’m used to watching people walk away.

Maybe it’s the harshness of Changbin’s tone that does it, maybe it’s the look in his eyes, but Chan stiffens at the words and finally his expression stops being so damn understanding. “Yes. I agreed because we have an opening. I wouldn’t have even considered it otherwise.”

“It’s been a month since Jun left.” Gritting his teeth, clenching empty hands into fists, Changbin leans forward over the table. “The scar still hasn’t fucking healed, did you somehow forget about that? You- you’ve been walking on eggshells around me for weeks, and when you finally stop, it’s to drop a fae on me? Does that not seem even a little bit wrong to you?”

Despite the man’s outburst, Chan’s patience is unflinching. “I haven’t forgotten, that’s why I wanted to talk to you.”

You could have asked, Changbin wants to say. You could have at least given me a chance to tell you to fuck off. Even if, deep down, he knows he never would. Because all he has to do is look at the small frown on Chan’s face and the silent request in his eyes, and he can feel his resolve crumbling. He could tell the man he isn’t ready for a new partner, that he still needs time to at least let the old bond-mark fade, but…

“There’s nothing to talk about.” Shoulders sagging, eyes fixed on the table, Changbin fights the defeat curdling in his stomach. “I need a partner, that’s part of the job description. It’s not like we ever get a lot of choice when it comes to who we end up paired with.”

“Actually, in this case, you do.” 

“No, I clearly fucking don’t.” Chest depressing, Changbin spits, “He’s already on his way, right? You’ve filed the paperwork and everything. It’s not like we’re going to just leave him with Junhyung. So no, there is no choice, but that’s fine. I’ll- I’ll figure it out.”

Shifting out of his chair, Chan slides into the seat left vacated by Hyunjin. “You’re right about one thing,” the older hunter admits. “The transfer is final. He’s going to show up here next Saturday one way or another, but… He doesn’t have to be your partner.”

Blinking, Changbin glances up at the other man, his brows furrowing as he does so. “I… Don’t follow.”

Hunching his shoulders slightly, Chan stares down at his hands where they’re folded tightly on the table. “I know you just had Jun walk out on you, of course I remembered that, Bin. I didn’t say yes to this expecting you to just shoulder a new responsibility without any say in it. I figured…” He sucks in a breath. “I figured if you weren’t ready to bond with a stranger, I could break my bond with Jinnie. You could take him, and I’ll take Felix. Since- well, since you know Hyunjin already, and he knows you, I thought maybe it’d work out better that way.”

Dumbfounded, Changbin stares at Chan, slack-jawed. “You’re serious.”

“I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t.” Offering Changbin a faint smile, Chan chuckles. “You and Jinnie have always gotten along well. It wouldn’t be a hard switch for him to make, and if things go south with Felix, then-” He shrugs. “Either I’ll take Hyunjin back, or I’ll start looking for a new partner. So you don’t have to, for once.”

Floored by the magnitude of the offer, Changbin takes a second to sit back in his seat. Chan’s been working with Hyunjin since they found the phoenix. They’ve been bonded for… Years. Long enough he’s lost track. And it’s been a successful pairing, not just in terms of the magic amplification but also from a more personal standpoint. The two of them are good for each other. Chan’s tendency towards responsibility to compensate for Hyunjin’s lackadaisical approach to the world. Hyunjin’s ability to shrug off stress like it’s nothing to help measure out Chan’s habit of worrying over everything. It all balances itself.

And he’s willing to chance breaking that apart for me. Honestly, he’s not sure whether to feel honored or devastated.

Floundering for a moment, Changbin’s expression twists. “Hyung, I-”

“I know it seems like a big deal, but I don’t think it’s actually as monumental as it sounds.” How the man can smile so genuinely while discussing this is entirely beyond Changbin. “It’s not like I’m never going to see Hyunjin ever again. And I technically have the most experience of anyone here. Not that I don’t think the rest of you will be able to help Felix, but it’d probably be easiest for me.” Almost like he’s actively talking himself into it, Chan starts nodding along to his own words. “And since he’s a fae, he’ll probably have a natural affinity with magic, so I can-“

“Chan, stop.” The lack of honorifics shakes Chan free of his rambling. “Look, I’m- I don’t know- I’m glad you thought of a second option but-“ Changbin shakes his head. “No. I’m not asking you to do something like that for me. Especially not over something like this.”

“But I-“

“No.” Putting a hand on the man’s shoulder, Changbin stares into the man’s eyes, until he’s able to pick out the wisps of red magic weaving through the warm brown. “Okay, sure, it’s an option, but it’s a shitty option, hyung, and you know it is. You’d make Hyunjin sad, and you’d make me feel guilty. I’d rather have another failed partner.”

At those words, it’s Chan’s turn to wilt. “You know that’s not your fault.”

It’s not not my fault. Pursing his lips around those words, Changbin shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter. Do I wish you’d given me more time, yes, but I’d have probably said yes anyways so don’t look at me like that. And don’t talk about ruining your bond with Hyunjin over something like this.”

“Are you sure?” Furrowing his brows, Chan grabs the hand Changbin still has rested on his shoulder. “I don’t want to put more pressure on you than you can handle. The last thing I need is for you to be distracted or stressed or upset and it get you killed.”

“I’ll be fine.” Part of him can’t believe he’s caving like this, but the rest of Changbin is aware it was inevitable. That he’d already given in the moment he’d decided not to speak up immediately when Chan had first broached the topic. Yes, he’s fully prepared for it to go south, but it won’t be the first time. After the third failed partner, you got used to it. “As long as nothing horrible happens, we’ll figure it out. And you’d never put us out in the field if you didn’t think we were ready.”

“I feel like this is backwards.” Laughing shallowly, Chan squeezes Changbin’s hand. “I thought I was supposed to be the one convincing you.”

Scoffing, Changbin looks away. “Yeah well, you’re the one trying to make poor choices. I’m just looking out for you.”

“How kind of you.” Sobering slightly, Chan insists, “You’ll tell me if it’s too much, right? I’m obviously going to ask you to make an effort, but if it’s really not going well, we can figure something out.”

He means it too. As a little more of Changbin’s bitterness melts away, he dips his chin. Sure, Chan’s giving him a new partner, but he’s still looking out for Changbin’s best interests in every other way he can. Just like always. And if Changbin is perfectly candid with himself, he can handle it. He’s too stubborn to get pushed around by forceful or aggressive personalities, and he’s strong enough to defend himself if Felix tries to attack him like he apparently did Kangsung. Despite the issues he has with having things sprung on him without warning, he’ll be fine.

Chan isn’t asking him to move mountains, he’s just asking Changbin to do what he’s done several times before and try to make a new partner work.

Pulling his hand away from Chan, Changbin gives the other hunter a firm nod. “I’ll let you know if I can’t handle it.”

“Good.” Letting out a breath, Chan chuckles awkwardly. “Now, I should probably find Jisung. Let him know that mom and dad are done fighting.”

Barking out a laugh, Changbin shoves Chan playfully. “Yeah, probably. Stress is bad for the baby.”

Sagely, Chan nods. “You’re right, it is. Unfortunately I’m always stressed.”

“You’ll figure it out.”

“So will you.”

Probably.

As Chan excuses himself and wanders deeper into the house to find Jisung, Changbin goes back to the mess of papers on the table and starts gathering them together. Finding the picture of Felix once more, he gives the sharp fae another once-over. Hopefully, it’ll all turn out for the better. And hey, if he’s lucky, maybe this’ll be one of the partners he parts with on good terms.

However it shakes out, he won’t know until Saturday. In the meantime…

Changbin shuffles the papers and starts leafing through them.

I might as well get to know him.

 

᚛ᚒᚖᚒ᚜

Notes:

EHHE

It's Felix, hessa monster. He got long hair and sharp teefies!

Don't worry he actually shows up next chapter. I promise I haven't forgotten this is supposed to be Changlix. I promise.

Chapter 5: Unpleasantries at the Dead Zone

Notes:

Oh right, this story exists.

Something something, chapter six took me forever to edit, but here's chapter five.

Enjoy!

᚛ᚒᚖᚒ᚜

 

Dead zones are a hell of a thing to see.

It’s a specific phenomenon that happens when there’s too much magic of any kind in one place. Not all dead zones look the same; in fact, some of them could be mistaken for being very alive, but as every textbook back in basic training was quick to say, there are always ways to identify one of these places. Actually, there’s a list of ways, and all young hunters are expected to memorize it within their first month of training.

The simplest way of finding one is the visual patch method. Simply put, from elevation, a dead zone will look different from everything else around it. Depending on the type of magic, the shape will differ, but never very much. Chaos magic might leave behind a many pointed starburst shape, whereas fae magic will leave behind a perfect circle, and draconic magic will create octagons every time, but they’re all generally round, and they all generally have an easily identifiable focal point.

The next most reliable method is the taste method. Usually, if you’re stuck on the ground and can’t get a bird’s eye view, this is the go-to way to know if you’re in a dead-zone. Because the air will taste different. All magic has a flavor, the kind of thing that gets stuck in the back of your throat. Demonic power, for instance, is always cloyingly sweet, despite the age old comparisons with sulfur. Meanwhile blood magic is considered the easiest to identify because it tastes exactly like the name suggests it will.

If, for some reason, both of those identification methods are unavailable, there is the slightly more complicated pattern method. Because dead-zones will always carve their magic into every available surface. But sometimes those get devilishly tricky to tell apart. For instance, a fairy circle is easy to confuse with the overlapping rings that elemental magic leaves behind. And try telling a chaos starburst apart from a blood star. It becomes practically untenable unless you really know your magic.

The last, and arguably the most unreliable method is actually where dead-zones get their name.

Nothing within them is actually alive. There usually aren’t any animals inside of them, any plant growth is unnatural and somehow impossible; under closer inspection, even microorganisms seem to be comprised entirely of magic. And of course, there aren’t any people. Non-human or otherwise.

Hence the name: dead zones.

In Changbin’s opinion, it makes these moments he spends pacing around outside of the base a lot more liminal, and yet at the same time a lot more calming. There’s really nothing here to be distracting which means if he’s got something he needs to work through, a walk is almost as good as meditation. Hell, sometimes it's better. Especially if he hasn’t had a job to work in a while.

Though no one ever says it, everyone knows their base is within a dead zone. It’s not a traditional dead zone, hell, he doesn’t think there exists a textbook that could categorize it, but it has every one of the hallmarks. Other than the five of them, Changbin hasn’t seen anything alive within the place. There’s always the faintest taste of cherries in the air, like a pleasant aftertaste you could never quite get rid of. And of course, there’s the pattern.

Centered around their house, when viewed from the air, is an elaborate clockwise spiral. None of the other types of magic dead zones create a pattern like that, not even close, but it’s unmistakable. And if you’re on the ground, you can see it in the very fabric of reality. The willow tree’s weirdly twisted trunk, the strange patterns in the scant patches of grass, the roses gifted to them at one point by another team that all seem to grow in a spiral, despite none of them actually being alive at this point.

Changbin can see it now, as he does another lap around the building, in the unconscious spiral his bootprints have made in the dirt and rock. He can see it when he glances up at the strange way the mountains have formed around their little valley, almost like a spiral themselves. Even the clouds seem to constantly twist above them, in what are considered some of the most interesting formations to exist on the planet.

In his opinion, the funniest part of it is how the road that approaches their house is also a spiral. Just big, loose loops around the base until finally you reach its center. It’s so unnecessary and unbelievably inconvenient when you actually have to get somewhere. Which is why they keep the vehicles on the outside of the six mile radius of the dead zone, and they have to move them every now and then, lest they also get warped by the ever expanding spiral.

The telephone lines strung out here are a modern marvel in and of themselves.

One of the side effects of how the place has come to be is that whenever someone is approaching via the dusty road, you can see them coming a while out, and you’ll still have time to do some last minute cleaning before they actually arrive. Changbin has been watching the NHII-issued transit make its way in circles around the base for the past fifteen minutes, and he thinks he still has one more lap around the house before it actually pulls up into the drive.

Turning around the corner of the house, he listens to the coughing of the car’s exhaust as he walks. He’s not entirely sure if he’s ready for today, but he’s dressed and out of bed, which is a good start. The laps were an attempt to settle the uncomfortable buzzing in the back of his head, and they’ve been moderately successful, but not entirely. Something bad is going to happen, he’s certain of it, but he’s not sure what yet so in the meantime he’s just walking and trying to cross things off the worst case scenario list as he goes.

He’s done as much research on Felix as it’s possible to do without actually meeting the guy. The file had been quite thorough in some places, while being frustratingly vague in others. For the most part, Changbin is confident that if things really go south, he can eliminate the non-human. Which is one worry he doesn’t have to have. But past that, he feels like there are so many other things that could go wrong.

When was the last time he had to deal with an actually violent partner? Changbin knows Junseong had his chaotic moments, but that doesn’t really count in his mind. Neither, he’d say, does the way Jun had stormed out. Disastrous, yes, but not actively trying to kill him. What if he tries to hurt Hyunjin or Jisung? That, he thinks, is another pretty terrible scenario. Jisung can probably hold his own, but Hyunjin’s defense mechanism is breaking into tears or bursting into flames. He doesn’t really do fighting back.

Glancing up as the transit passes him once again in the distance, Changbin sticks his hands into his pockets and stares at the rock garden, all arranged in neat little spirals. Past those two things, the other bad situations start to get a lot more personal. A small voice in the back of his head is suggesting that he’ll get along with the fae just fine on the surface and the moment they’re on a mission together, it’ll all go to shit. There’s also the consideration that the bonding ritual will go badly.

And of course, they might just not work well as partners. But that’s less a worst case scenario and more an eventuality Changbin’s already planning for.

Stepping past Chan’s little collection of panda statues, Changbin closes his eyes and just listens to the transit slowly getting closer. In a moment, he’s actually going to meet Felix, and hopefully that’ll give him a better read of what he’s getting himself into. A file, no matter how comprehensive, isn’t going to be able to give him the same details as meeting someone face to face. Chan had asked for them to give the fae a chance, and he’s prepared to, he thinks, but it’s really going to come down to who or what steps out of that van.

Continuing his little circle around the base, Changbin glances into his own bedroom window, to the tiny little cave that he used to somehow cram two people into but now comfortably fits just him. If he were a younger hunter, he might lament the fact that he’s not looking for a partner right now. As it is, he knows it’s not that personal. They’ll put Felix in Jun’s old room and Changbin won’t have to upend every piece of his life all over again. Just the parts he’s already accustomed to changing around.

Stepping away from the window, Changbin watches passively as the dusty black van trundles up their driveway, past Hyunjin’s little hand painted welcome sign and to the little uneven slab of concrete that leads to the garage. As it finally parks, the hunter straightens his shoulders and walks closer. The logo of the NHII is stamped on the side, the wulven hand clasping a much more human one. It’s dreadfully misleading, almost suggesting the organization is a peaceful one, but it’s been almost two thousand years since the symbol was first introduced. Changing it would be inconvenient.

Stopping a few feet away from the driver’s side door, Changbin offers Junhyung a little respectful nod as he steps out.

“Junhyung, it’s been a while.”

"Changbin-hyung!” Junhyung’s smile is, as always, open and friendly. Swinging himself out of the transit, the hunter drops down to the ground, sending up a cloud of dust as he does. He’s the same as always, still that same dark brown hair and impractically thin-framed glasses, still with that same dogish grin despite not having a drop of wulf-blood in him. Despite what must have been a long drive from the nearest NHII department, he looks awake, aware, and entirely happy to be there. “You’re looking good.”

“You’re looking alright yourself.” Glancing past the hunter, Changbin spots a mop of dirty blond hair as Kangsung shakes himself awake on the passenger side. “Was the trip alright?”

“Oh, it was what it was.” Leaning on the open door of the transit, Junhyung glances behind him at the twisting road. “Incidentally, it’s gotten longer, hasn’t it! That was at least an extra three miles of driving.”

“It’s been a few years,” Changbin points out, following Junhyung’s gaze with a shrug. “It’s not like it ever gets smaller. I keep saying it’d be better for us to just try to make an actual road, but at some point you give up.” 

Attempts have definitely been made in the past. There had been a period of about three years, when their team had first hit their height of usefulness, where the Bureau had been willing to actually spend money on them, if only to make things more convenient. If you look carefully, you can still see the attempts at infrastructure. The twisted asphalt still cuts across the actual road in places, making the drive confusing if you don’t actually know what you’re looking for. Unfortunately, the only road that stuck was the original, in its horribly elongated state.

Sometimes, Changbin wonders how the spiral stays so consistent, and how the exit through the mountains always stays in the same place in relation to their front door. Unfortunately, those questions always give him a migraine, so he tries not to think about them too much.

“I wouldn’t worry about it too much,” Junhyung decides, shutting the van door before making his way around to Kangsung’s side of the vehicle. “It’s probably one of the only things keeping them from putting more problems on your desks.”

“Only Chan-hyung has a desk,” Changbin points out, ambling over to the passenger side after Junhyung. “And the NHII has email these days, unfortunately.”

Where he sits curled up in his seat, Kangsung is still trying to blink himself back to consciousness, just pawing at his face and swallowing repeatedly like he’s got a bad taste in his mouth. Snorting at the sight, Junhyung reaches out a hand and runs it through the man’s hair, coaxing him into looking up.

“Changbin-hyung,” Kangsung mumbles as he squints in the sunlight, already trying to shift what looks like Junhyung’s coat off of him. “Can’t you guys come to us the next time we have to do a transfer. I’ve been on a plane for ages.”

Laughing at that, Changbin steps back so Junhyung can help pull the other hunter out of the transit. “We’ll come visit the moment we figure out how to get Seungmin on a plane without it irreparably fucking the thing up.” It’s never been an issue of the thing not flying. Seungmin is surprisingly fond of air travel. It’s just the moment he gets off of a plane, it never works again.

The bills being sent to the Bureau were apparently prohibitive.

Tottering for a moment after his feet hit the ground, a bit like a foal, Kangsung swiftly regains his balance and allows Junhyung to settle the extra coat around his shoulders more firmly. “It’s only a transfer,” he mumbles, as he shakes the last bit of sleepiness off of him. “We didn’t all show up to pick up Junseong.”

“Every team does things differently,” Junhyung reminds Kangsung brightly. Changbin can see the way the older man is fussing over Kangsung, pulling at his hair and neatening his clothing, but he chooses not to comment. He’s been briefed on what happened with Felix, and what Chan hadn’t told him, he’d read off of the official file. In Junhyung’s position, he’d be a little apprehensive too.

And speaking of- Peering into the van, to the grate between the front seats and the back seats, he lifts an eyebrow and looks up at the two hunters. “Is he-“

“Yep, he’s in the back.” Fishing around in the pocket of his coat for a moment, despite Kangsung’s squawks of protest, Junhyung produces a small, iron rod, carved with several intricate symbols. Passing Changbin the rune-key, the hunter’s cheerful smile falters into something more awkward. “Thanks, hyung. For-”

Waving the words off before they can really go anywhere, Changbin gives the man a little salute. “Chan-hyung’s waiting for you inside. I hear there’s a mountain of paperwork to get through.” When Junhyung frowns slightly, Changbin fights the urge to pull a face. “It’s alright, Junhyung. I can handle one fae. Even if he is an everflower.”

“Right.” Expression smoothing out in the face of Changbin’s ‘professional’ voice, Junhyung claps Kangsung on the shoulder before smiling at Changbin. “I’ll see the three of you inside soon.”

As Junhyung slips past him and disappears into the house, Changbin focuses on Kangsung, who is still fussing with the lapels of Junhyung’s coat and muttering to himself under his breath. Lifting an eyebrow, he nudges the man and gets a wide-eyed look for his trouble.

“I’ve already signed all my paperwork,” Kangsung blurts out, suddenly lurching into motion. Pawing around the footwell of the passenger seat, he produces two sealed manila folders. One is stamped with the Bureau’s seals, the other with that of the NHII. “Technically, he’s your partner now. According to everything official. Just as soon as we, well-” Gesturing at his chest, he rolls his shoulders. “That’s all that’s left.”

Trading the paperwork for the rune-key, Changbin listens for a moment for sounds of movement from within the transit. “Honestly, you two will probably be out of here before nightfall.” Breaking bonds might be exhausting for the parties involved, but it doesn’t take long. “How has he been since your injury?”

Kangsung’s expression pinches at Changbin’s blunt question. “Ah… I mean you can see for yourself.” Twisting the rune-key between his fingers nervously, the hunter gives him a quick glance before scurrying around to the back doors of the van. “He hasn’t been bad for the drive, but that might be because of… Well…” He pauses, his hand on the door handle.

“Did you tranq him?” Changbin asks, voice as free of judgment as he can manage. It’s not an uncommon practice when it comes to moving dangerous non-humans. Some people frown on it, Chan being one of those people, claiming his magic is far better than any cocktail of drugs ever could be. While that’s not necessarily untrue, it’s also not something available to most people. Not everyone has magic on tap.

Which is why when Kangsung nods swiftly, he gives the man what he hopes is a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “Whatever it takes. Chan had us refreshing all of the wards on the place yesterday, so we’re ready for similar.”

“He’s not…” Kangsung’s voice lowers, his eyes darting to the van doors as he does. “Felix isn’t bad when he’s being left alone. As long as no one tries to talk to him or- or interact he’s fine.” Running a hand through his hair, he huffs. “But obviously we can’t just leave him alone.”

“Kinda defeats the community service aspect, yeah,” Changbin agrees.

Voice dropping further, until he might as well be whispering, Kangsung admits, “I think we should just send him to the Cradle. Or- or maybe somewhere not as maximum security? If he doesn’t want to do anything…” The young hunter trails off, but his point is obvious. If this everflower just wants to sit alone in a room all day, he can do that in prison. Somewhere he won’t be a problem for anyone else.

But at the same time, Changbin has heard Chan have this argument a thousand times with one NHII board or another. The counter comes to his tongue too easily. “Those places are shit, you know the statistics.” The death rate in even the best non-human facilities is quadruple that of any human prison of comparable level, and that’s not even taking into account the conditions. After all, the more dangerous the inmates, the tighter the security. “They recommended him for the program, we should at least give him a chance.”

At that, Kangsung’s hand is dropping from the door and he’s turning a scowl on Changbin. “I was the chance, hyung.” Drawing in a heavy breath, he runs a hand through his hair. “I’m fucking sick of that argument, alright? I know there are reasons for transferring him, I know how protocol goes. I know not every partnership works but-”

Catching the man by the arm, Changbin fixes him with a serious look. “Look I get it.” I should have known this conversation would be a land mine. Waiting for Kangsung to fall silent, he sighs. “Trust me, I know all about bonds not going well, but look at it this way; he’s not going to be your problem anymore.”

Mouth twisting, Kangsung looks away, focusing on a point somewhere over Changbin’s head. “I can feel how angry he is.” Rubbing an absent hand over his chest, his breath shivers slightly. “It hurts. It actually hurts to be connected to him. I don’t- why should anyone else have to deal with this? What good is it going to do?”

Shifting uncomfortably, Changbin lets go of Kangsung. “Chan-hyung seems to think-“

“Forgive me, but I don’t care what Chan-hyung thinks.” Resentment in every line of his face, Kangsung leans against the truck and looks out at the expanse of low mountains around them. “Because trust me, Junhyung has been saying the same things. But the only reason he’s here is because they didn’t actually put everything in the report.” Grabbing for the collar of his shirt, the man pulls it down, revealing the edge of what looks like a nasty wound that’s only just now starting to scar over. “He did this trying to break our bond on his own. That’s what they’re handing you.”

Oh.

When put into perspective like that-

Changbin crosses his arms. “Why isn’t he dead?”

“Junhyung melted his brain for a while. Any more magic and it probably would have killed him, but…” Hanging his head, Kangsung scuffs his feet. “He got lucky. And I guess I did too because this-” He lets go of his shirt. “-wasn’t deep enough to be life threatening.”

As a bad taste builds up in the back of Changbin’s mouth, he purses his lips. He’s had partners blow up at him, Jun standing out as the most recent example, and he knows how dangerous it can be. Though the selkie hadn’t tried to kill him, he had definitely lashed out with magic, prepared to stand his ground in any way necessary if it came down to it. Because of the bond mark, that magic had been amplified, until it was almost too wild to control.

He can only imagine what a blade to the chest would have been like. 

The bonds are specifically designed to keep you from hurting the person bonded to you. Overcoming that is nearly impossible, but the magical backlash it causes when it happens is terrifying.

Changbin wonders, briefly, if Chan knew about how serious things were. If Junhyung had been honest and Chan had still said yes, or if Junhyung had been the one to gloss things over so he could shift the problem elsewhere. Honestly, he isn’t sure what’s worse.

Either way, the result is the same. He’s still standing out here, gazing out at the sparse scenery, facing a prospective partnership that somehow looks even bleaker than his last one. No matter how low Changbin had his expectations set, this is managing to let him down. Not that he’d had any desire to open those van doors to begin with, but the last thing he wants to do is release Felix, only for something horrifying to happen again.

“I don’t fucking want him.”

The words are out of Changbin’s mouth before he can stop them, perhaps a little ugly, but unbelievably relieving in their honesty. “I haven’t fucking wanted him since Chan-hyung brought it up. It sounded like a bad idea then, and I guess it’s worse than I thought.” Hand going for his own chest, he rubs at the scars on his chest. Four of them now, in an ugly little row. “Being tied to someone like him sounds like hell and it sucks they put you through that. I don’t want to go through this.”

Almost as soon as the words are out, he can hear Chan’s soft, insistent voice in the back of his head. Telling him that anger isn’t the answer, and that not every situation is black and white. But Changbin doesn’t want to hear it right now; he just wants a moment to be righteously upset about another wrench getting thrown into his life.

It doesn’t do anything for me in the end though, does it? Nothing is going to change.

“I wish we were just throwing him into the Cradle.” Kicking his boot through the dirt, he watches it rise up in a swirling cloud. “But my opinion doesn’t matter, right? Because it’s a job, and this is part of the job.”

Bitterly, Kangsung snorts. “They always say you can quit, but that’s bullshit, huh?” Leaning back, until his head rests against the van, the man smiles up at the strange cloud patterns. “The only reason they say that is so you’ll join in the first place, but… After this, where do you even go?”

“Imagine, rejoining society.” Barking out a laugh, Changbin kicks harder at the ground. “Finding a normal job. Doing normal shit.”

“It sounds awful, doesn’t it?” Turning his smile on Changbin, Kangsung straightens. “I’m… Probably going to be out of commission pretty soon, so while I can say it: good luck. You’re going to fucking need it.”

“Probably.” Changbin rolls his shoulders back and nods once. “I doubt it’ll be the worst thing I’ve had to deal with.” Granted, it’s not the most uplifting of things to say, but it does help him put a little more steel in his spine. Something he needs right now.

Gesturing half-heartedly at the van, the younger hunter lifts an eyebrow, as if to say everything else aside, they’re probably waiting for us. Between Junhyung and Chan, Changbin is entirely sure they can chatter together as long as they need, but Kangsung has a point. The sooner they get this over with, the better.

The sooner I come face to face with what I’m dealing with, the better. Grabbing for the door handles of the transit, Changbin takes a single breath before pulling them open, exposing the single occupant to the murky sunlight of their surroundings.

A second later he’s drawing another breath, because oh, wow.

Changbin’s first thought is that his picture really didn’t do him justice. Even in the shadows of the back of the van, Felix is striking. With pale purple skin and gossamer wings that awkwardly fan out behind him, reminiscent of pixie wings rather than those of fairies. Long, deep lavender hair falls around his shoulders in a tangled wave that makes him look almost wild, with just the sheer amount of it, and a haze of ambient magic rolls through the van like a cloud. Judging based off of his breathing patterns, the tranquilizer from earlier hasn’t entirely worn off. And when Felix lifts his head and makes eye-contact with Changbin, he finds himself rooted to the spot.

The fae’s kaleidoscopic eyes are full of thinly veiled hatred. So venomous that even without a bond-mark connecting them, Changbin can feel it sinking into his bloodstream, chilling him to the bone. He half expects the expression to be directed at Kangsung, after all, that’s the hunter Felix is currently bonded to, but no. That look is all for him, and despite his experience with this sort of thing, it momentarily takes him off guard.

He probably heard us, huh? Maybe he should have thought of that before he opened his mouth, but a second later Changbin finds his own resolve rising up to meet Felix’s threatening aura. So what if he heard? He’s the one who attacked someone, he should know exactly where he stands already, and no amount of goodwill is going to change the fact that he fucked up. If he thinks he’s going to get away with that here, he’s not going to last long.

Hoisting himself up and into the transit’s interior, Changbin crosses his arms and regards Felix, his expression cool and impassable. Eyes following him, the fae’s narrow jaw sets, and those dazzling eyes narrow further. As he gets closer, Changbin finds himself noticing other little details about the man. Like the small braids woven into his messy hair, the thick metal band nestled beneath the collar of his simple shirt, and the freckles slashed across the bridge of his nose. Under any other circumstances, he probably would have called Felix beautiful, but right now all he’s trying to determine is how much of a threat this man is going to become.

In a corner of the van, Changbin notes the small collection of luggage that’s been strapped down. Probably everything the fae is bringing with him. It’s not much, but it’s something. He also takes a second to examine how Felix has been bound, now that he has the chance. Honestly, with everything he’s been told about this man, he expected more. Maybe wing clamps, or even a chain on his collar, but all Changbin sees are the arm restraints. 

I guess he doesn’t really have anywhere to run to, does he?

Clambering up after him, the rune key clutched in his hand, Kangsung awkwardly crouches down as he steps towards Felix. Nearing the fae with trepidation that he’s desperately trying to hide, the man pauses just in front of Changbin and attempts for a calm, firm voice. “We’re here.”

Felix ignores him entirely, he just keeps his eyes trained on Changbin. Despite the looseness implied in how he sits, legs spread and his posture slightly slumped, he’s tensed, like he’s a cornered animal.

Dismayed, Kangsung shifts from one foot to another before trying again. “This is going to be your new partner. Er- hyung, this is Felix, Felix, this is Changbin-hyung.” When there’s still no response, he sighs and tries to shrug it off. “We’re taking you inside so we can remove the old bond, and then you’ll be under their jurisdiction.”

Our problem, just in much nicer language.

Kangsung’s words are met with a slow shift of Felix’s gaze, until he’s staring daggers into his old hunter. “He already knows,” Changbin says stiffly. Without thinking, his stance shifts, almost like he’s waiting for this fae to attack. Which is of course ridiculous because he’s restrained and unarmed. Still, the gut reaction is there. “He was listening to us outside of the van, weren’t you?” His words don’t get any verbal response, but he notes the way the muscles in Felix’s throat shift, and the slight twitch of his mouth. “You can skip the niceties, Kangsung. We’ll figure it out.”

“Right.” Bobbing his head once, the younger hunter shuffles forward and kneels in front of Felix to get at his restraints. Despite how much tension there is crackling in the air between them, Kangsung does his best to be courteous, gently urging him to lean forward and allow himself to be freed from the cuffs that have him held against the side of the transit. Automatically, Changbin looks to the racks beside his head for something a little more convenient to bind the fae’s hands.

He sees it happen out of the corner of his eye, just as he’s got his hands on a pair of smooth rune locked cuffs. Changbin had known that Felix was tensed, like he was ready for something to happen, but he hadn’t realized why until a second too late. The instant the cuffs are off of him, before Kangsung has a chance to back away, the fae is lunging forward. Quick as a snake, and far more vicious than one, he’s flattening the man to the floor of the transit, one hand going for his face, the other grabbing for one of Kangsung’s arms.

Thankfully, Kangsung’s own reflexes are faster than they look. Knocking aside Felix’s arm, even as Changbin is turning towards what’s happening, he tosses the fae off of him and rolls to the side, already trying to get his bearings back. But he’s not quite quick enough to avoid the man he’s fighting, who is already back on him, an almost terrifying precision to movements that should have been wild and desperate.

Sealed envelopes go flying through the air and the rune cuffs clatter to the floor of the van. Changbin doesn’t even register he’s moving as well until he’s got the fae’s collar in one hand and is yanking him away from Kangsung. Felix is lighter than he looks, which is a good thing because he fights Changbin viciously, already aiming for his eyes with two fingers, not an ounce of hesitation in him. Ducking to the side of the strike, he uses his hold on Felix to throw him to the wall of the transit, sending the entire thing rocking sideways with the force of it.

As the fae’s back hits the metal wall, Changbin gets an arm against his throat and pushes down. Not enough to choke him, not enough to snap his neck, but definitely enough to have Felix struggling and unable to slither away. Already prepared for the man to keep lashing out, Changbin grabs for the fae’s hands, before he manages to claw his throat out. After a certain amount of scuffling, he has the man’s wrists pinned under one hand and his legs immobilized as best as he’s going to be able to manage.

Sneering at him, baring sharp, needle-like teeth, Felix strains against Changbin’s hold for several more seconds before finally turning to dead weight in his grip.

“I’m sorry,” Kangsung pants out from behind them, his voice strained. “I- I should have known- I didn’t think- he should still be tranqed.”

“It’s not you, it’s him.” Leaning forward, getting in Felix’s face, Changbin growls, “Look, I don’t know what they let you get away with in Junhyung’s team, but that shit isn’t going to fly here.”

When all he gets is an imperious, unimpressed glare, he puts more pressure on the fae’s throat, until Felix’s expression starts to crumble. “I know you thought that you could get past the two of us, I know you thought you were going to try to escape, but let me make something perfectly clear; you don’t escape something like this.” Jerking his head behind him in Kangsung’s direction, Changbin deliberately says, “You might be able to overpower him, but you aren’t going to make it past me, and even if you do, the only thing outside of this place is magic far more powerful than whatever you have. The only way you leave here is if I say you leave, or if they’re taking you away and throwing you in a cell.”

Eyes burning with hate, Felix hisses out something that might have been a curse in faespeak, but he doesn’t keep struggling. It’s clear he wants to, but at least something in either Changbin’s words or his tone stills him for the time being. Temporary though the solution might be, it’s better than nothing, and he’ll take what he can get.

Managing a semi-professional mask, Changbin lets up enough of the pressure on the fae’s throat that he’s not crushing anything important. “I’m glad we understand each other.” When he hears Kangsung stumbling to his feet behind him, Changbin clicks his tongue to get his attention. “Bring me a pair of rune cuffs, please.”

“I’m sorry,” Kangsung mutters again, but he does as he’s been bid, grabbing for the pair Changbin dropped in the short altercation and aiding in getting them around Felix’s wrists.

“We should have checked to see if the tranquilizer had already worn off, it’s just as much on me.” Arguably it’s more his fault, seeing as he’s the senior here and technically the one in charge of the fae at this point. But he’s going to ignore that for as long as possible. Getting a good grip on one of Felix’s shoulders, Changbin gentles his expression when he turns on the younger hunter. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine just-” Rubbing at his face, Kangsung takes a second to steady his breathing. “He went for the eyes. They’re watering a bit.” It’s more than a bit, the man has tear tracks starting to make themselves apparent on his cheeks, but Changbin doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he just nods and uses his free hand to pat the man on the shoulder. 

“You two will be separate soon.” It’s meant to be comforting, but he can feel the way Kangsung’s shoulder’s slump and from the corner of his eye, Changbin catches the vindictive curl of Felix’s lip. Once again he’s overwhelmed by the thought that he really doesn’t want this to be his problem, but he pushes it away. Instead, he tightens his grip on the fae’s arm and pushes him out into the sunlight.

Once they’re out of the transit, he’s able to take in a few more details about the man. He’s dressed in simple traveling clothes, nothing nearly as fancy as traditional fae garments, but definitely something fae made. The pants have loose cuffs decorated in pale gold thread, the shirt has an open back, and the sleeves are rolled above his elbows, displaying skin that becomes almost crystalline and translucent as it goes. His fingers glitter like sapphires under the light, and Changbin swears he sees the man’s bones, between where the light refracts.

It’s also at that moment that Changbin notices that, like most people, Felix is taller than him. Only by a handful of inches, but he makes a note of it, in case of any future scuffles. He hopes that the man knows better at this point, but he’s not going to put any money on it. Based on what he’s seen, he suspects the next few months are going to be grueling at best.

Of course, now isn’t really the time to be stewing in thoughts of his future. Instead, he casts a regretful look at the transit before guiding Felix towards the house, his steps purposeful. Tugging at the oversized jacket he’s still wearing, Kangsung hesitates for a moment before following, still wiping at his eyes as he does.

Chan and Junhyung are deep in conversation when Changbin finds them. Both are bent over several stacks of paperwork, trading a pen back and forth as they chatter and sign various documents. As he sidles into the dining room, Felix in tow, Changbin waits for Chan to stop chuckling at something the other leader had said before speaking up.

“Do you want him in the ritual room, or is here fine?”

Glancing up, Chan very quickly notes the cuffs, as well as the expression on Changbin’s face before sobering slightly. “Ah- ritual room probably. Just in case.”

Junhyung shakes his head with a snort. “It’s still crazy to me you have room for something that nice. We just do everything on the kitchen floor.”

“Too much loose magic makes Hyunjinnie’s nose itch,” Seungmin calls from the hallway, appearing as he often does without any sign or warning. “And space isn’t really a concern for us, as you know.”

“You should come fix up our place,” Junhyung cheerfully suggests, as his eyes slide over to Kangsung. He goes to say something else when he falters, and concern flits through his eyes. It’s quickly brushed away a second later, but Changbin doesn’t miss the little twitch of the man’s fingers as he beckons Kangsung closer. “We’re still living in a shoe box. I swear if I get anyone else assigned to me, we’ll be out of room.”

“Oh you wouldn’t want me making renovations,” Seungmin assures Junhyung, leaning back against the wall and watching him with bemusement. “I’ve got absolutely no technical skills to speak of! You might not have a house at all when I’m through.”

Though Junhyung laughs like it’s a joke, Chan pulls a face. “You can always bother the Bureau,” he insists, standing to the side slightly to allow Kangsung to sidle up beside the other leader. “Sometimes they’re nice about spending money. You’re specialists.”

Decidedly tuning out their conversation, Changbin continues his path to the ritual room, keeping Felix in front of him as he does. Seungmin’s comment about the ritual room is actually only half true. They used to do things in the middle of the living room, for sake of comfort as well as for convenience, but there had been an incident with some irrigo ink a while back, and the resulting magical residue had been a bitch to clean up. Especially because no one could remember what they were doing the moment they entered the room.

After one too many failed attempts to get the mess sorted out, Seungmin had simply said he’d ‘take care of it’. The next morning, there had been an extra room in the house that didn’t make any logical sense from the outside, and no one spoke of it again. Except, of course, when there was magic to be done.

Peeking his head out of said room, Jisung watches Changbin and Felix with thinly concealed interest. “So you’re Felix!” Staring at him with wide eyes, the hunter’s face splits into one of his heart-shaped grins. “We’ve been waiting for you to get here for days. I’m Jisung!”

As Changbin expects, Felix doesn’t answer. He just stares past Jisung into the room, as if the other man isn’t there at all. Rolling his eyes, Changbin shrugs at the crestfallen Jisung as he passes. “He hasn’t been talking to anyone,” he mutters, as he pulls the fae over to one of the two folding chairs someone had thought to set out for the unbinding ritual. “Don’t take it personally.”

Thinking about it for a moment, Jisung decides on a small smile that he directs at Felix. “He’ll settle in and he’ll get better. Besides, you’re a pretty good partner, so he doesn’t need to worry.”

Face wrinkling in evident disgust, the fae stares at the wall and doesn’t engage with Jisung. Sighing, Changbin doesn’t comment on it. While he usually appreciates his fellow hunter’s boundless optimism, he doesn’t think it really belongs here. Not after Felix attempting to escape for sure, but arguably it didn’t fit before either. But if Felix isn’t going to correct him then I’m not going to bother.

As an afterthought, Changbin waves at one of the chairs. “You can sit if you’d like. Unbinding isn’t pleasant.”

With a withering side-eye, the everflower shakes his head, always with that vague tilt of his chin, like he’s above all of this. It’s something Changbin is used to from fae, but his patience with it coming from Felix is already waning. If you were actually better than this, you wouldn’t have attacked Kangsung. Twice. He’s willing to look past the manslaughter charge. Self-defense is self-defense. But his behavior afterward is making him wonder if the courts got the sentencing correct.

For everyone’s sake, Changbin isn’t left to wonder for long, because a couple minutes later Chan makes his way into the room, followed by Seungmin, Junhyung, Kangsung, and a sleepy looking Hyunjin, who wanders to Jisung to lazily drape himself over the man’s shoulders.

“Hello Felix,” he chirps, running taloned fingers through feathery hair. “It’s nice to meet you. I tried to make you cookies but I don’t think they turned out well.”

If Felix hears the phoenix’s words, he makes no sign of it. Pursing his lips together, Changbin looks over at Hyunjin and assures him, “I bet they’ll be delicious.”

“And once we’re done with this business, we can all enjoy them,” Seungmin says decidedly, clapping his hands together. Quietly, and without anyone’s help, the door of the ritual room swings shut. “Changbin, if you won’t mind taking off Felix’s cuffs.”

Frowning at the non-human, Changbin considers arguing that it’s a bad idea, but Chan’s tired smile eases his twitchyness. “I’ve got the place spelled, it’ll be alright, Bin.”

Briefly, Changbin catches Kangsung’s frown and matches it with one of his own. Still, instructions are instructions, and there’s only one way to remove a bond mark. He would know, he’s had to get rid of several. So he takes the rune key Kangsung tosses him and gets to doing as he’s been bid, unbinding Felix’s wrists before slowly taking a step back, ready for any and all retaliation from the fae. 

Thankfully, Felix isn’t stupid enough to try anything in a room full of hunters. He just rubs at his wrists silently and stands there, not making eye-contact with anyone.

Changbin half expects further direction from Chan, but when he glances up, he finds his leader fussing with the various inks on the table in the corner. Shifting his eyes to Junhyung, who is coaxing Kangsung out of the coat and shirt, he rolls his shoulders. Well, he is going to be my partner… “Alright.” Stepping in front of the fae in an attempt to get his attention, Changbin crosses his arms. “You need to take your shirt off.”

Though he clearly doesn’t mean to, for a moment, Felix’s eyes flick down to Changbin’s face. Holding back another sigh, which has been his go-to reaction for the past week, Changbin shifts back on his heels. “Don’t give me that look. You were bonded, weren’t you? How the fuck do you think we unbind you?”

“Ah, he, uh-” Clearing his throat from behind Changbin, Junhyung awkwardly admits, “He was unconscious when we put the original bond mark on him.”

And suddenly a lot of things just started to make sense. Privately glad that only Felix is able to see the way his scowl deepens, Changbin takes a second before speaking. “Alright, this might be new then. You know that fancy bond mark on your chest? We need to get rid of it, and to do that, your shirt needs to be off, so…” He waves a hand. “Don’t make me strip you.”

Jaw twitching, like he’s trying to judge if Changbin would actually do it, Felix finally seems to make up his mind, because a second later he’s reaching for the buttons at the back of his collar, making dangerous eye-contact the entire time. Unruffled, Changbin stares right back, watching as the linen slips down the fae’s arms before pooling around his waist.

He’s skinnier than the shirt let on, with slight shoulders and a narrow waist, but Changbin has been in this line of work long enough to recognize the lean muscle, and the power contained in that small body. Examining the man’s arms, and the greater definition of muscle there, he lifts an eyebrow. He’s met enough people who specialize in melee weaponry to recognize the signs. Dagger…? No, maybe a sword of some sort. Something that would explain the vicious mark Kangsung now bore. He stands like a sword fighter, Changbin decides, as he gives the fae a second look over. But is he any good?

Remembering belatedly why he’s asking Felix to strip in the first place, the hunter redirects his attention to the man’s chest, specifically the bond mark standing out against his pale lavender skin. In his time as a hunter, Changbin has seen some nasty marks, the aftermath of his first one standing out most clearly in his mind, and the one on the fae’s chest bears all the signs. The pulsing magic, the bleeding lines of what should be clear runes, and the angry crimson color of what is usually faded violant, all of them are clear indications that something’s wrong, even without Kangsung’s report of what happened. If they weren’t about to get rid of the marks, Changbin would have cringed away at the sight.

As it is, he leans a little closer, morbidly fascinated with how the mark’s magic is turning Felix’s skin translucent, revealing shimmering muscle and ivory bone beneath. Maybe I should have paid attention in my non-human biology classes…

The sound of Chan clearing his throat behind him has Changbin straightening. Shifting around the fae, so he can keep the man in his line of sight at all times, he faces the rest of the room. 

Felix isn’t the only one half naked at the moment. Kangsung has also pulled off his shirt, revealing his own angry bond mark. It looks about as ugly as Felix’s, but it’s definitely not what Changbin is paying attention to. Instead, all he’s looking at is the nasty, half-healed gash that runs from the base of the man’s ribcage up through the bond mark before ending just over his collarbone. It may not have been deep enough to kill, but it looks like it could have very easily been. If Felix had pushed a little harder. Or perhaps if he’d been slightly less skilled.

Jaw tightening, Changbin makes a point of looking away from it.

Of course, there isn’t much else to look at it. There’s another faded scar beside Kangsung’s current mark, if Changbin had to put a time frame on it, he would have guessed it was a couple years old, but he only has his own marks to base that off of. Gaze shifting off of man, he focuses on Chan. His leader stands between Felix and Kangsung, a tiny pot of swirling irrigo ink clutched in one hand, and the traditional brush in the other. 

“I don’t see any reason in drawing this out. With all the paperwork handled, the sooner the better, right?” Glancing in Junhyung and Kangsung’s direction, Chan proffers the supplies to them with a slight smile. “Junhyung, if you’d rather-”

“I trust you to handle the ritual, hyung,” Junhyung assures Chan, with one of those congenial smiles stretching his face. Its effect is slightly marred by the arm he’s got protectively wrapped around Kangsung’s bare shoulders, and the tight hold he’s got on one of the man’s hands. “You’ve been doing this a lot longer than I have.”

“If you’re sure.” Stepping towards Kangsung, Chan gestures for one of the empty folding chairs. “I promise I’ll make this as quick and easy as I can.”

Waving off the reassurances, Kangsung sinks gratefully into the chair, pulling Junhyung down with him. “It’s alright Chan-ssi, this isn’t my first time, I know what’s coming.”

Noting the slight tightening of Felix’s jaw, Changbin flatly says, “You might want to sit as well. You’re going to feel some of it whether you like it or not.” When all he gets is a cold stare, he gives a disinterested shrug. “Suit yourself.”

He remembers the first time he’d had a bond mark broken. Changbin remembers the involuntary cry of pain it had ripped from him, and though he doesn’t remember passing out, he has several hushed accounts from Jisung and Hyunjin that he definitely did. Admittedly, that case had been an unusual one, but it’s not like any of the subsequent ones had been a walk in the park either. If Felix wants to try and handle that on his own, that’s his problem. At least he’s been given warning. 

Catching Jisung’s worried look, Changbin pulls a face. I don’t know either, but he can do what he wants.

Still, instinct has him sliding half a step closer to the fae as Chan dips his brush in the irrigo ink and begins humming the associated spell under his breath.

Everyone in the NHII at least has a vague idea of how bond marks are made and broken. There’s an entire field of study that’s formed behind them, some of it absolute nonsense, and some of it a thousand plus years outdated. What even current information agrees on is that among other things, the magic these marks contain is some of the most complex duplicable spell craft that exists.

It looks simple. Just a spirit tie, right? Hardly anything for a good magic user worth their salt. But that’s such a surface level view on them that it’s laughable. Instead, it’s closer to the weaving of the entire beings of two individuals together. It takes every piece of them, ever thought they’ve ever had, every bit of magic they’ve ever been capable of, every emotion that’s been felt, and it unravels it so it can be woven with someone else.

Correctly done, a bond mark is simply the outward symbolism of a spell that allows two people to attune themselves to each other, to the point where their physical capabilities are amplified, and their minds fit together like two cogs of a machine. It’s what gives these partnerships the mysterious nature they’re known for. It’s also what lets them take on creatures and challenges that should have been far beyond anyone’s individual strength could handle.

Unfortunately, as tight as those bonds are, they aren’t infallible, so of course there are ways to separate them. But see, in the same way the bonds themselves are complicated, the process of removing one is just as jarring, just in the other direction.

Quite literally, it’s carving off a piece of yourself and losing it forever. Even if the bond has gone sour, it’s still unmaking yourself, and reforming without something you had become used to, separating one into two. And of course on top of that, there’s all the magic that’s involved, that needs to be pulled out and nullified. As normal as the process is considered, the bond ritual simply isn’t written to be broken.

Is it any wonder then that the process is agonizing?

The second the brush touches Kangsung’s chest, the man tenses, a whimper escaping his throat. Undaunted by this, Chan continues his soft, musical muttering, as dark red magic lifts to join the glittering irrigo. Blindly reaching out, the younger hunter latches onto Junhyung’s shirt, dragging him closer. Though his view is mostly blocked, Changbin can smell the coppery tang that spills into the air, and can see the way Kangsung bites hard at his lip, probably in an attempt to keep from crying out.

This ritual is a ritual to forget. One that uses the deep, ancient color of irrigo to break apart that which is supposed to survive even the harshest conditions. It’s powerful and it’s terrible, and honestly, Changbin got used to it a few broken bonds ago. He’s a little over the whole thing. Clearly Kangsung isn’t, this is only his second bond, and the process fucking hurts, but in Changbin’s mind, it’s just part of the job.

Still, he feels bad for the man, as he gasps out a soft curse and fights to stay still as Chan weaves the ritual. It’s not even the pain of the irrigo cutting deeply into your skin that does it, the pain runs a lot deeper than that. It fries your nerves, it touches that part of your brain that says something wrong is happening and it makes it sing. The fact the man is still upright is testament enough to his strength.

Beside him, he hears a stifled gasp from Felix. Glancing sideways, Changbin watches as the fae presses a hand over his own bond mark, his jaw clenching and unclenching as echoes of the pain Kangsung is feeling no doubt roll through him. They aren’t nearly as intense, but Changbin knows that feeling as well. The suggestion that something terrible is happening, that makes your muscles lock up and your brain panic as it tries to figure out what’s going on.

Though his sympathy for the fae isn’t particularly high at the moment, he still shifts closer and offers him an arm to lean on. “There’s still a chair behind you.”

Gritting his teeth, Felix visibly forces himself to straighten, disregarding Changbin’s offer. No one thinks you’re tough for doing this, but whatever.

Shifting his attention back to the ritual currently taking place, Changbin catches the tail end of Chan’s spell. The moment the brush leaves his skin, Kangsung slumps forward, one hand automatically going for the bleeding gash on his chest. Before he can do much more than touch it, Hyunjin is hurrying forward, his bird feet clicking on the hardwood floor as he does. 

Magic already glittering around his fingers, he insists, “Don’t rub it, it’s okay, I’ll help.”

Allowing the phoenix’s healing to wash over him, Kangsung drags in a shuddering breath. “Thank you.”

As Junhyung draws the man against his side, already doing his best to drape the jacket back over his shoulders, Chan turns towards Changbin and Felix, a firm expression on his face. “This is your first time going through this, so I will warn you, it’s going to hurt.”

“I think he knows.” Changbin hopes Felix’s decision to stay mute is a temporary one, because playing translator for the man is starting to get old.

“Well, as long as he does-” Neatly dipping his brush in his inkpot, Chan pulls a tired smile onto his face. “Remember not to hold your breath. It makes it worse.”

Almost the second the irrigo touches Felix’s skin, his knees buckle. Though he’d honestly rather let the man pitch face into the floor, Changbin knows better than to disrupt a ritual like that. Swiftly, he reaches out, catching one of the fae’s weird translucent arms and hauling him upright. Like nothing happened at all, Chan keeps up his casting, a familiar look of focus taking up residence between his eyebrows.

Felix doesn’t cry out in pain, but Changbin can see it affecting him. Can see the way his heartbeat kicks up and his breathing quickens. Sweat stands out on the man’s neck, and his glittering eyes glaze over as he fights to keep himself present. Despite how vehemently he’d protested any of Changbin’s help before, his weight still sags against the hunter as the ritual continues, as his legs shake with the strain of holding him up. Dutifully, Changbin keeps him aloft, watching as Chan’s spell takes effect.

You can see it sucking the power out of the violant bond mark, soaking it up like a sponge and nullifying it, leaving it to bleed out of the gash left behind. And the fae does bleed, silver blood that drips down his torso until it’s staining the shirt still bunched around his waist. It’d be a simple enough thing to heal, especially with Hyunjin’s magic, but it’s still nasty in the meantime. Deep enough to really hurt, deep enough to gouge the bond magic from Felix’s skin.

From where he’s still curled up in the chair across the room, Kangsung lets out a soft, whimpering sound, as the echoes of Felix’s spell catch him as well.

Like that somehow is what reminds him that he’s not supposed to be reacting to this, Felix fights to stand straighter, as if he’s actually going to be able to manage. Ignoring his attempts to squirm away, Changbin just clamps down his hold. The fae isn’t coherent enough to glare at him, but he can still feel the man fighting his arms, fluttering his wings as he tries to get away and stand on his own.

As Chan’s deep red magic thickens in the air to the point it almost overpowers the taste of cherries in the back of Changbin’s throat, his brush finally leaves Felix’s chest, and the spell ties itself into a knot at the end. At once, the faint glow in the air fades and the fae manages to yank himself out of Changbin’s grip. Letting the man stagger away from him, he watches as Felix drags a hand through the blood staining his torso and hides behind a curtain of purple hair.

“That should be it,” Seungmin announces from his corner of the room, his lips peeling back from his large collection of teeth. “Your bond is successfully broken.”

Letting out a heavy breath, Kangsung whispers, “Oh thank the void.”

Hurrying over to Felix, soft gold magic already on his fingers, Hyunjin insists, “Here, let me do something about that. It’s just going to keep bleeding until-”

Changbin has the sense to pull the phoenix away. Before Felix can lash out. Before he hurts Hyunjin’s feelings. “We’ll get him some bandages,” he promises the confused non-human, automatically running a hand through the man’s soft feathers. “If he wants you to heal him, he can ask.”

The fae’s glare is venom, but he doesn’t ask Hyunjin for help. Instead, he forces himself to straighten, keeping the sleeve of his shirt pressed up against the wound in an attempt to staunch the blood.

Clearing his throat, Chan tries for a smile. “That went well. Thank you for your patience with us Felix. Obviously we’re going to give you some time to heal, but as soon as you think you’re ready, we’ll get you bonded to Changbin. I’m sure the two of you will make a good team.”

For a long moment, the fae just stares at Changbin. An untold number of emotions run through those kaleidoscope eyes, every one of them negative, and without hesitation Changbin meets that stare with one of practiced disinterest. Finally, Felix pushes his shoulders back and flutters his wings before speaking for the first time since he arrived. In a deep voice that doesn’t match his face in the slightest, the man spits out four deliberate words.

“I’d rather eat shit.”

 

᚛ᚒᚖᚒ᚜

Notes:

ITS FELIX!!! My excitement is immeasurable and my day is wonderful.

also, Happy Birthday Kangsung!! I'm sorry Felix stabbed you, it was plot important.

Chapter 6: Fight or Flight

Notes:

I just had the WORST airplane experience of my life. It was so bad, I have no less than six boarding passes. Driving there would actually have been shorter.

But y'know, a chapter!

Enjoy~

᚛ᚒᚖᚒ᚜

 

Whatever foolish hope Changbin had been clinging to that Felix’s presence wouldn’t upend his life is dashed within the first two days of the man’s arrival.

After their less than stellar first meeting, he isn’t expecting much. Felix, for all intents and purposes, seems to have already made up his mind to hate Changbin, and honestly, he’s not too keen on the fae either. Changbin assumes the man will be unruly, willful, and deliberately miserable to be around. If he were in the man’s position, he would likely be all of those things too.

But it’s almost impressive how terrible Felix manages to be.

They house him in the spare room, where Chan insists that he’s welcome to do whatever redecorating he wants. Honestly, Changbin hasn’t even looked into the room since Jun left, didn’t have a hand in cleaning it out even though he knows it was probably his responsibility. He almost keeps up this avoidance, if for the principle of the thing if nothing else. Eventually though, Chan’s quiet looks remind him he’s got a job to do.

It’s weird to see Felix in the empty space, crouching on the bed like a wild thing and glaring daggers at anyone who tries to cross the threshold. Changbin is used to framed pictures. He’s used to soft billowy clothing hanging beside the standard issue hunter gear. He’s used to various skin and hair products neatly gathered on the vanity and the faint smell of the sea lingering in the air.

Logically, he knows he’ll probably get used to this too, but seeing a new face in this spare room feels like a barbed reminder of how many times he’s done this before.

“Sitting in the corner isn’t going to make it any better,” Changbin points out, long after most of the house has turned in for the night.

Eying him sidelong, Felix’s wings flutter before clasping tight against his back. “I know how a cage works.”

Resisting the urge to groan and roll his eyes, the hunter leans on the door frame. “Yeah, alright. Sure.” Glancing over at the untouched food, which is still awkwardly perched on the dresser by the door, he clicks his tongue. “It won’t feel so shitty if you talk to people.” When the fae says nothing, Changbin’s jaw tightens. “The longer you drag this out, the longer it’ll be before you’re able to get out of the house. I’m sure someone explained that to you.”

Hunching his shoulders, Felix makes a point of looking away, and Changbin isn’t motivated enough to fight it. If he wants to be a bastard, so be it. It’s not up to him to put the man in a good mood.

Vaguely, Changbin thinks it’ll get better, or at least, it’ll be less directly hostile. A foolish assumption, retrospectively. 

Felix doesn’t want to interact. Not for mealtime, not when any of them try to be welcoming, not even to talk about the job he technically has. If he’s given half a choice, the fae ignores them entirely, and if there isn’t a choice, the only things that come out of his mouth are pointed obscenities, making it very clear what he thinks about them. Which, considering some of the people in the house, goes over as well as you’d expect.

“I- I just tried to say hello,” Hyunjin tells Seungmin tearfully, half in the other non-human’s lap and half in Changbin’s lap as he sniffles and wipes at his eyes. “He called me such a horrible word! I thought we didn’t say things like that here.”

Gently, Seungmin strokes a hand through the phoenix’s feathery hair, easily smothering the little fires that try to rise up. “It’s not your fault, Jinnie, there’s no need to cry.”

“Why does he hate me?” Lifting up his head so he can stick out his bottom lip, Hyunjin’s eyes crinkle at the corners and more tears drip down his cheeks. “What did I do? If he needs me to apologize, then I will!”

“You didn’t do anything,” Seungmin reassures, before looking up at Changbin with a pensive expression. “I suspect he would have lashed out at anyone.”

Hunching his shoulders under the scrutiny, Changbin gives a shrug like don’t look at me, I don’t have the answers before pursing his lips and patting Hyunjin’s tail feathers. “He’s just an asshole. Don’t waste your time with him, it’s not going to get you anywhere.” Which is, apparently, the wrong thing to say because it just makes the phoenix cry harder.

“But- but he feels so sad, I don’t want him to be sad.”

Hushing the man, Seungmin grabs one of Hyunjin’s hands and presses a small kiss to his fingertips. “It’s okay, he’ll get better with time.”

Except in Changbin’s opinion, he doesn’t get better with time, he just gets worse. Felix won’t come out of his room. At first, Chan tries to convince everyone, including himself, that the everflower is just shy and perhaps needs some time to adjust, but after the third day, it becomes clear that he’s just not leaving. Not even for food, which the team typically makes a point of eating together. Family dinner has never felt like the most important thing in the world, but suddenly it becomes a weird standoff between them and the hostile force within their house.

Chan fails to cajole Felix out for meals. Jisung attempts to compromise by offering to leave the food in the kitchen if he’s not ready for everyone at once. Neither of them get any positive response, to no one's surprise- or at least, not to Changbin’s surprise. Eventually, the task of tempting Felix out of his room falls to Changbin, and though he does try, he loses what patience he has pretty quickly.

“He’s not going to fucking listen,” Changbin announces, swinging into the dining room with a scowl on his face. “It doesn’t matter how nicely I ask him, I’ve already told you, hyung, he’s not interested in cooperating.”

When Chan just hunches his shoulders, Jisung answers for him, his eyes wide. “We’ve just got to keep trying, right? I mean, he has to work with us eventually.” Letting out a small nervous laugh when Changbin wheels to face him, the man holds up his hands. “What? It’s the truth! You’re going to be bonded to him, he can’t just stay locked up.”

“He won’t even come out to eat.” Though he tries his best not to let it, frustration colors his tone. “He’d rather starve than even be in the same room as us. I swear he was about to throw a spell at me when I tried to walk in.”

“Fae are particular about territory,” Seungmin reminds Changbin unhelpfully.

“Felix-” Changbin says the name with perhaps an unnecessary amount of derision. “Can get the fuck over himself. This isn’t his house, that room wasn’t even his until a few days ago. Whatever territory issue he’s got shouldn’t stop him from learning to coexist.”

“It’s not worth getting upset about.” Slumping slightly in his seat, Chan stares sightlessly ahead of him. “It- it’s fine. We can just let him eat in his room.”

Changbin makes what he thinks is a good case for just starving Felix until he learns how to get along with people, and he even has Seungmin nodding along with him, but ultimately Chan shoots it down. According to him, no one under his roof is going to go hungry, even if they’re throwing a tantrum. It seems like an awfully generous way to treat someone like the fae, but in the end it is his call to make.

“We have to keep trying,” Chan insists, only half paying attention to his card game with Jisung and Changbin. “I know it feels pointless, I know it’s disheartening. I’m disheartened too, but he’s been through a lot and he deserves patience. As much as we can give him.”

He doesn’t deserve shit. But Changbin can’t just say that out loud, not without getting one of Chan’s tired, disappointed looks, and he’s in a bad enough mood without actively making it worse. So instead he stares at his cards and tries to ignore the way Jisung bounces in his chair with nervous energy.

“He… Said a couple of words to me today,” the younger hunter offers, after taking his turn and discarding a card. This particular deck is one of their old ones, covered in singe marks and stains. Eventually, they’re going to replace them. “That counts, right? It definitely counts.”

“He told you to fuck off,” Changbin points out sourly.

“Alright, yeah, but he’s still talking. Which… is more than we were getting before.” Laughing, Jisung’s shoulders fold in slightly but he still looks between Chan and Changbin like this is progress. “I think Chan-hyung is right, Felix just needs time. Remember how Hyunjin set fire to his room when he first showed up?” Turning back to Changbin, he grins, his eyes becoming little halfmoons as he does. “And at least a couple of your partners have caused problems when they first show up.”

Seizing on that, Chan visibly perks up. “Right. Junseong caused us plenty of problems at first, and he’s turned out fine. And what about Jun?” Completely skating over the couple of partners part of this conversation, which as always has Changbin’s hackles up, he just smiles. “Felix has some things he needs to work through, but if we keep reaching out to him, eventually something will click.”

When Chan speaks, he does so with the unshakable confidence of someone convincing themselves they’re right. Changbin wants to openly disagree, to say that not everyone gets better, but… Hell, what’s the point. Either I’ll be proven right eventually, or things aren’t as bad as they seem. He wins no matter what, right?

Silence clots up in his nose and mouth, and eventually he just looks back down at his cards.

“Sure hyung, it’ll be fine.”

But it isn’t, because Felix just gets worse. The more they try to reach out to the everflower, the more extreme his rebuffs to their advances become. It started with avoidance; sour looks and stony silence. Quickly, however, it devolved into a lot more. He’s quick to snap, to hurl everything from insults to tirades in their direction. Sometimes, it’s in languages they can understand, but more often than not it slips straight into faespeak, without even a tacit care that they can’t keep up.

And that’s just the non-violent reactions. Felix may not be the most magical creature in the world, or even in this house, but he has no trouble calling up magic to deter them from interacting with him. At first, it’s just globes of sparkling sapphire light that he holds up threateningly, his sharp eyes just daring someone to give him an excuse to use it. Changbin almost doesn’t believe he’s serious, because who would have the audacity to throw harmful magic in Felix’s situation. But considering what happened to Kangsung, he probably should have known better because he absolutely means it.

Chan is, unfortunately, the first one to get caught in the crossfire. In yet another attempt to be welcoming, he’d repotted one of the little plants in the yard and brought it inside for the fae. “I know we’re not in a very green environment, but hopefully this can help remind you of home?”

To which Felix responds a bit like a scalded cat. Thankfully, it’s just a warning shot, but it does leave a distinctly circular line of magic residue on one of Chan’s shirts, and it completely destroys the little pot the plant was in. Mysteriously, the plant itself is fine, but Seungmin sweeps it up before anyone can ask too many questions. 

“Maybe a plant from outside the base,” the non-human suggests pleasantly, as he watches Hyunjin pick the shards of pottery out of Chan’s fingers. “Something more… Appropriate. Less dead.”

Hanging his head, curly hair falling into his eyes, Chan sighs softly. “Ah, fuck, I forget we’re in a dead zone sometimes.” Glancing up at Changbin, he gives an apologetic smile, like somehow this is his fault. “That was probably insulting to him, wasn’t it?” 

I don’t care. When has he done anything to make any of us give a shit? Changbin wants to yell it, but he settles for rocking back on his heels and crossing his arms. “If he wants a plant, he can grow one of his own.”

“Most fae can’t actually do that,” Hyunjin chirps, before blinking twice and looking up at Seungmin happily. “I remembered something!”

As Seungmin ruffles the phoenix’s hair, Changbin grumbles, “Actually, I was talking about growing seeds or something.” When Chan opens his mouth, possible to chide him for the venom in his tone, he cuts through the words cleanly. “You’re bleeding, hyung, because that everflower threw magic at you! We should be getting rid of him already.”

“He didn’t mean to hurt me,” Chan insists, already trying to soothe Changbin’s anger with a hand on his shoulder. “It was an accident. He was aiming for the plant. It’s not his fault the pot shattered first.”

It is his fault, but Chan refuses to see that. Actually, for the first time in his life it’s hitting Changbin just how crazy the other people in this house really are. Seungmin is entirely unfazed by everything Felix does. Chan just keeps repeating that everything is going to be fine. With his partner so insistent that nothing is wrong, Hyunjin doesn’t have the sense to realize how bad things really are. And Jisung, dumbass that he is, just finds the whole thing hilarious.

Even, Changbin is displeased to find, after Felix nearly takes his arm off with one of those spells.

“It doesn’t even hurt!” Jisung insists, which doesn’t make the limp, broken way his left arm is hanging at his side any better. “You’re so worried, hyung.”

“Yes I’m worried!” Changbin all but shouts, wanting to shake Jisung but terrified he’s going to suddenly remind the man’s body that it should be in excruciating pain. “He- he just destroyed your arm? Why are you not worried?”

Dumbly looking down at his arm, Jisung attempts to move the limb only for it to contort sickeningly. “It’s not destroyed, it’s still there. Give it like… A couple hours tops.” When Changbin looks up at him with evident distress, the man’s face splits into a large, heart-shaped grin. “I’m fine. If anything, I shouldn’t have gotten pushy about where he’s from. A lot of people are touchy about that sort of thing. Even you.”

“But I’ve never-” Looking down at the man’s arm, feeling distinctly helpless in the face of what’s shaping up to be a losing battle, Changbin wilts a little. “I’d never hurt you.”

“I don’t think he did it on purpose.” Resting his good hand on Changbin’s shoulder, Jisung makes a serious face. “I’m pretty sure he was aiming for the wall beside me, but I kinda flinched the wrong way and it hit my shoulder instead. If I’d stuck around, I bet he would have apologized.”

He wouldn’t have, Changbin wants to insist. He probably would have killed you. But he’s got the sinking suspicion that Jisung would just laugh that off too.

And maybe with reason! Jisung, for reasons none of them entirely understand nor want to question, can handle things a normal human shouldn’t. If Felix tried to take his head off with a spell, he actually might get back up. The rest of them, however, aren’t as resilient. Chan and Changbin will die, and Hyunjin will at least be temporarily out of it. With that in mind, the fae is perfectly capable of being a threat.

In Changbin’s opinion, they’ve been doing everything but treat the fae like he’s a hostile entity, which they should probably fix sooner rather than later. He’s convinced if everyone in the house is on their guard, they’ll be fine, but so far he’s the only one who’s been careful. The rest of the team seems convinced Felix can do no wrong, and when he points it out, all it gets him is a pensive look from Chan. That, and a temporary restriction from leaving the base.

“You can’t take him with you, not until he’s become a little more cooperative,” Chan points out, as Seungmin stands in the middle of the living room and Jisung frantically tries to put together his backpack in preparation for their most recent job. “And you handing off the lock stones kind of defeats the purpose of him being your partner.”

“Do you see a bond mark on my chest?” he demands, trying and miserably failing to contain his frustration. Already swatting away Hyunjin’s fingers, ignoring his little whine of I was checking, Changbin stubbornly plants himself in front of Chan. “Fuck, just let me do something, hyung. Just one job.”

“Bin, you can handle a few days at home.” Soberly, Chan furrows his brows. “I need you here, looking after Felix.”

“There are people that need me out there.” Gesturing emphatically in the direction of the front door, Changbin stands his ground. “The bureau isn’t going to just let me have time off, and the jobs aren’t going to stop coming just because I’ve got a fae to- To babysit.” He doesn’t bother keeping his voice down. Let Felix hear him if he wants, let him come out here and say something about it. Openly bitching in the living room would literally be an improvement over what they’re getting now.

“If there’s an emergency, Jisungie and I can handle it,” Seungmin chirps, the tiniest hint of teeth poking out through his smile. “You can rest easy. No one we’re actively trying to protect is going to die on our watch.”

Wanting very much to tell Seungmin to shut up for a moment, Changbin takes a couple deep breaths and fights the urge down. “That doesn’t change the fact that I should be doing my job, and right now I’m not.”

But Chan just shakes his head, and Changbin knows it’s a lost cause. “You are doing your job. If it makes you feel any better, this is the assignment I’m giving you.” It doesn’t make him feel any better, because in his mind, that’s not the issue, but every time he goes to articulate it, he sounds like a petulant child. “Talk to Felix, help him acclimate, and you’ll be back out in the field in no time.”

No time isn’t soon enough, quite possibly nothing is, but in the face of Chan’s patient expression Changbin is the unreasonable one. Drawing in a deep breath, he glances down at the lock stones clasped around his wrist. Their thin metal bracketing looks unbelievably fragile for the magic they contain, but isn’t it just one of those things? Tradition before practicality and all that. A bit like this, really.  

“Hyung, I realize that we’re trying to help him, but if I’m-” Shoving his own ego down his throat, Changbin grinds out, “If I’m losing my marbles because I’m cooped up, I’m not going to be any help.”

Chan’s lips thin. “If that’s really where you are mentally, then maybe this break is good for you.”

“I- fuck, are you even listening to what I’m saying?” Throwing his arms wide, Changbin takes a step back from their leader, almost running into Jisung in the process. “I need out of this house! If I have to deal with that fae for one more-”

A hand lights on his shoulder, and Seungmin looms pleasantly behind him. “He has a name.” Placidly allowing Changbin to take a quick step away, the non-human just slips his hands into his jeans with a smile. “Felix is certainly troublesome, but personally I think you can be worse if you choose to be.”

“Yeah, Changbinnie.” Shouldering his bulging backpack, Jisung slaps Changbin on the back before giving a serious nod. “I’m sure you’ll drive Felix crazy first.”

While trying to catch Jisung as he runs away laughing is a momentary distraction, it doesn’t change the fact that Changbin is going stir crazy. A feeling that’s only made worse every time he catches sight of a letter from the NHII, or a new email on the shared computer. Usually these jobs rolling in would be for him, all of them involving C class threats or higher, and all with the damning stamp of eliminations on them. Instead, he gets to watch Chan shove his hair out of his face and sigh as he does his best to delegate the tasks to other groups.

Changbin would normally be the first to say that taking the life of a non-human, however violent and dangerous, is always an unpleasant task and therefore a break is welcome. That being said, the lull in activity grates at something in his very core. He’s meant to be out there, doing the dangerous work that no one else wants to do and protecting others from having to carry out those same deeds. Instead he’s been placed on glorified house arrest and the thing between him and freedom is the very thing he’d usually be out there trying to hunt.

And sure, technically that isn’t true, but of the five people in the house, Felix has attacked two of them, threatened to attack one more, and seems hell bent on making Changbin hate him. No, he probably doesn’t deserve to die, but he also doesn’t deserve Hyunjin’s little plate of chocolate chip cookies, nervously left outside his door like a peace offering. As if he has anything to be making peace about.

In all Changbin’s years of monster hunting, or as the official documents say, ‘mitigating the active threats posed by criminal non-human elements’, he’s never come across someone in the organization who is as obstinate as Felix. Even the most rabid of non-humans tended to settle down after getting off with such a theoretically light sentence as a few years on the force. Sure, it was dangerous, but most of them were the type to not care. And besides, it was freedom. It was a paid opportunity to see the world and do wild things and hopefully make some friends along the way that wouldn’t judge them for their past misdemeanors and minor crimes.

This whole thing was supposed to be helpful.

Mostly, everyone came out of their shell and at least tried to play along. Sure, there were varying degrees of success and sometimes a partnership proved to be too unstable to work, but not like this. They didn’t give violent criminals a second chance, and they for sure didn’t give anyone third or forth chances if they kept being aggressive. By all accounts, Felix should have been locked up by now, and yet here they are, still trying to get through to him.

It doesn’t make any sense.

“Maybe if you actually sat down and talked to him, you wouldn’t feel so hopeless,” Chan points out quietly, looking away from his pile of unsorted mail for a moment to pin Changbin down with another one of those sober stares.

Freezing, entirely unsure what’s prompted this conversation when all he’d been doing is getting a glass of water from the kitchen, Changbin slowly straightens his shoulders and faces the other man. “I don’t feel hopeless,” he mutters, brows already furrowing. “I feel confused, if anything.”

“And you know what I bet would solve that-”

Changbin swallows his groan. “Save it, hyung. Please.”

Starting to wilt, something flashes behind Chan’s eyes and suddenly he’s turning his chair, his full attention focused on Changbin. “You know what, no, I’m not going to save it. I’m serious, Bin. The rest of us have been really making an effort with Felix and you haven’t. What’s going on?”

This sound of frustration isn’t so easily stifled. “You mean other than the fact that he treats everyone in this house like shit and has actively attacked both you and Jisung?”

“Have you considered one of the reasons he might be so upset is his future partner openly dislikes him?”

That gives Changbin pause.

“Look, I’m not saying how he’s behaving is good or right or that we should just ignore it but have you looked at yourself lately?” For once, the man actually sounds angry. “You’re acting like a spoiled child. This is a job, Bin. Not everything is going to be easy or fun or… Void, I don’t know, glamorous.” They both cringe at that, and Chan relents slightly, his tone evening out. “Sometimes, it’s dealing with someone like Felix and being the bigger person.”

Sure, because that’s always easy to manage.

Sighing Chan goes to push his hair out of his eyes again before giving up halfway through. “You promised me you’d give him a chance,” Chan reminds Changbin. “I sat you down at that table and gave you the opportunity to back out and not deal with this and you were adamant that you’d be the one to help Felix.” His expression is tight, but his eyes say everything he’s not voicing aloud. “So far you have yet to step up to the plate like you said you would.”

Crossing his arms, Changbin sits back on his heels, trying to hide how uncomfortable Chan’s accusation leaves him. “That was before I realized he was awful.”

Easily, Chan shrugs. “He’s just reacting to how you treat him.”

Changbin wants to argue, to refute the claim outright and say there are four other people in this house to react to, but he knows the older man has a point. It’s not like we ever had the chance to be cordial. Still, he argues, because he’s not completely in the wrong, and he’s tired of everyone making him out to be like he is. “I’d treat him better if he were a better person.”

“That isn’t an excuse.”

Frustration welling up in his chest, Changbin bursts, “Fuck, Chan, I’m doing my best.” Fighting the urge to falter, he barrels ahead, like the words are going to tear him apart if he doesn’t force them out. “I bring him food just like everyone else, I’ve told him things will improve for him if he cooperates. I haven’t shot him through the fucking head even though he’s hurt almost everyone in this house by now.” Face twisting, he insists, “I’m trying.”

Chan’s mouth tightens. “Not hard enough.”

It pisses Changbin off, but what makes it worse is Chan is probably right. He absolutely has already written Felix off as a lost cause, and it’s colored every single one of their interactions. Tacitly, he’s reached out, but this is supposed to be his partner. Even if the bond hasn’t been created yet, he has a responsibility to do everything he can to make this work. If not for any genuine like of the fae himself, then at least to fulfill the job he’s being employed to do.

And… Maybe Chan has a point when he says that Felix is likely to respond to hostility with more hostility. As much as I don’t have a reason to be nice to him, he doesn’t have any reason to respect me either. That much needed to change. Hopefully after that, the rest of it would fall into place.

Which is why, despite the one hundred and one misgivings he has about the situation, Changbin starts actually trying to get along with Felix.

“Look I’m- I’m not going to apologize.” Changbin feels weird talking to a closed door. He feels weirder doing it at one in the morning, but he hasn’t been sleeping well, and if the light in Felix’s window is anything to go by, neither has he. “But I know you won’t apologize either, so maybe we can… Move past it or something.”

There’s a distinct sound of rustling and soft footsteps, but no reply. Just a general sense of displeasure emanating from the fae’s room. Did I expect anything else? Mouth drawing out into a line, Changbin quietly asks, “Can I come in or something.”

“Why the fuck would I want you in here?”

Alright, well at least Felix is listening. Holding back his sigh and counting to eleven, Changbin slowly releases a breath. “Fine, I won’t come in, but maybe you could come out here?” Taking a step back, he crosses his arms and stares at the hardwood and the strange spirals patterned into it. “I’m trying to have a civil conversation with you, there are better ways to do that than a closed door.”

“Civility? Like any of you give a fuck about something like that.”

He’s got a headache coming on. Changbin swears he can feel it starting where his spine meets his skull before it slowly migrates up through his temple until it’s resting behind his eyes. “Alright, Felix,” he says the name with the same tone he might have used the word asshole. “I don’t want to hear it. Everyone in this house has been doing their best to help you. You’re the one who’s being… Difficult about it.”

There’s stony silence from inside the man’s room, which somehow manages to grate on Changbin’s nerves worse than the cursing. He swears his face aches from how much scowling he’s been doing lately, as muscles far more accustomed to smiling are forced to contort. Unable to stand the quiet, Changbin huffs. “Look, fine, maybe I haven’t been going out of my way like everyone else, but that’s no fucking excuse for trying to take someone’s arm off.”

The silence becomes sullen, souring like milk. “I told him to leave me alone.”

“You don’t get to just ask to be left alone, because that’s literally the only thing you want.” Rolling his shoulders back, Changbin tips his head to the side. “If you were maybe out here talking to people, making an effort? Then fine, we’d leave you alone, but you aren’t.” He’s trying to sound reasonable, but void is it difficult. “You can’t keep yourself locked away like this.”

There’s a mutter of something in faespeak before Felix growls out, “Watch me.”

“I think you might have misunderstood.” The muscles in Changbin’s jaw tic but keeps his voice level. “I didn’t say you shouldn’t, I said you can’t. Which means eventually I’m going to go in there and kick your ass out and make you figure it out.”

Felix’s sneer is immediately evident in his tone. “You don’t want me out there. You want me in a jail cell.”

Do you blame me at this point? Except no, he can’t say that, he’s trying to be the better person here, attempting to make this situation even just a little more bearable. “But do you want to be locked up? Because if you don’t start figuring this shit out, that’s where you’re going to end up.”

Felix doesn’t respond, and never bothers to open the door, but it still goes down as the longest conversation he’s managed with the fae. It’s not much, if anything, Changbin would consider it the opposite of progress, but it’s talking. He has a bit better of a grasp on what’s going through Felix’s head, and maybe it gives him more of a reason to adjust his own behavior. Beyond not wanting to let Chan down.

Over the next couple days, while Seungmin and Jisung are out on a job, he makes a point of being the one to take Felix his meals, and the few times the fae creeps out of his room to use the restroom he tries to acknowledge the man’s presence. Changbin hopes that’ll be enough to earn him some goodwill, unfortunately, all it gets him are more brazen instances of Felix brandishing magic at him to get him to go away. Almost like his kindness is being mistaken for a moment of weakness.

So yeah, he’s getting somewhere, but it’s definitely not anywhere good.

The only good thing that comes of it is Felix starts leaving his room. Actually leaving it, not just stepping out for two minutes at a time. He still won’t talk to anyone, and openly snaps if someone tries, but he starts coming to fetch his own meals, and Changbin definitely catches him staring at Chan, Hyunjin and himself as they play board games in the living room.

Chan wants to believe this is good, but Changbin quickly discovers otherwise when he gets too close to Felix and the man sends a bolt of magic in his direction faster than he can blink.

“Stay away from me.” Felix growls, already backing up in the direction of his room, his hand going for the sword hanging from his waist. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

“Go on,” Changbin dares him, already calculating how long it would take him to get his hands on his gun and how difficult it’s going to be to avoid that rapier in this tight space. “Draw it. See what happens.”

“Changbinnie?” Hyunjin calls from down the hallway. “What’s going on? Is everyone okay, there was a loud sound.”

Eyes flicking in the direction of the phoenix, Felix grits his teeth and retreats fully, slamming his bedroom door behind him. Which is exactly the day Changbin decides that he should probably stay armed, rather than chance getting run through when he’s not prepared.

“Do I want to know why you’re carrying a weapon in the house?” Chan asks, after Seungmin helpfully brings it up not but ten minutes after returning home from the job he and Jisung were on.

“The same reason Felix is carrying his sword,” Changbin responds stoutly, tipping his chin up and regarding Chan steadily.

As Chan lets a displeased whine escape the back of his throat, Seungmin offers Changbin a saintly smile. “If either of you draw those things in this house while I’m around, I’m putting you in time out.”

“Well why don’t you tell Felix-“

“I will!” Seungmin assures him, his black eyes looking remarkably unsettling in the darkness of the coat room. “I’m just letting you know ahead of time, so no one is surprised when it happens.”

It’s a testament to how out of hand things have gotten that Chan doesn’t even bother asking them not to kill each other. He just sighs defeatedly and walks away, leaving the two of them to sort it out how they will.

“So Felix attacking Jisung was just fine, but the moment I’m carrying Gloria, things have gone too far?” Changbin really knows better than to snap at Seungmin, but honestly he’s fed up, and this just feels like insult added to injury. “How is that fair?”

“I don’t remember this being a conversation about fairness.” Smile slipping from his lips, Seungmin fixes Changbin with a steady look. “I’m simply not interested in having to repair any of the furniture if you two get into a fight. You get more destructive when you’re armed than when you’re not.”

“Because that’s the concern.”

“That’s the only concern that seems pressing.” Seungmin’s teeth glitter in the dim light, all of them sharp and unsettling and far too numerous. “If the situation changes, my priorities will as well.”

Changbin swears the air-pressure changes when the non-human walks away.

He considers putting his gun away, really he does. Almost anything is preferable to ending up on Seungmin’s shit-list, however temporarily, but he knows better. Even after Seungmin’s warning, Felix doesn’t disarm, and if no one else is going to care about that then he needs to. Chan’s right about one thing, this fae is his problem, and it’s up to Changbin to make sure no one ends up dead because of him.

Unfortunately, as their weird little stand-off continues, the atmosphere in the house steadily declines. Felix might be out and about now, but void help anyone who gets in his way, and honestly Changbin isn’t much better. He finds himself snapping more and laughing less, unable to find patience for even Jisung and Hyunjin, despite them not being involved in the slightest. Whenever someone calls him out on it, he’s quick to apologize, but it doesn’t improve, and he hates the change.

He’s convinced if he could get out and work his mood would improve, but at this point, it’s not just Chan’s restriction keeping him here. Because if he leaves, he runs the risk of Felix using his absence to finally snap. That thought alone is enough to keep him right where he is.

The tension finally comes to a head two weeks after Felix’s arrival. Chan and Hyunjin are off on a job, Jisung is practically crawling out of his own skin at the open aggression filling the house, and Seungmin is, as usual, doing his best not to get involved. He’s not even really sure what starts it, all Changbin knows is that one moment, he’s in the kitchen peacefully cobbling together a sandwich, and the next he’s got the fae in front of him, multicolored eyes blazing and teeth bared. It probably isn’t even over anything important, but there’s so much boiling up between them that it doesn’t matter. Anything is enough to set them off, and at this point, neither of them are going to back down.

Vaguely, he thinks Seungmin is talking to them from the other room. He’s pretty sure he hears Jisung’s voice there as well, but if he were going to listen he would have already. And he hasn’t. Because if he has to put up with Felix’s shit for another minute, he’s going to lose his mind.

“Go on, run back to your fucking room.” Changbin knows he’s not helping anyone right now, but he’s so far beyond caring it’s almost laughable. “Hide. Just like you’ve been doing since you got here, you fucking coward.”

“That’s rich coming from you.” Felix doesn’t have fangs quite like some non-humans do, but his teeth are just sharp enough to look dangerous when he snarls like that. Like he’s fully ready and willing to tear someone’s throat out. “I thought you were supposed to handle real threats. Am I just that terrifying to you.”

While Changbin wasn’t consciously trying to start anything, he’s certainly seizing on the opportunity presented to him. Honestly, he started pissed off, and Felix’s goading is doing nothing to help that. Which is why he has absolutely no problem in giving as good as he’s getting, letting derisive and ugly words slip off his tongue like oil.

“Right, like you could scare anyone.” Scoffing, Changbin tosses his head back, even though his aggressive stance doesn’t shift an inch. ”A fucking pixie like you couldn’t hurt me if you tried.”

A low growl builds up in the back of Felix’s throat, only made more prominent by that deep voice of his. “Call me a pixie again, bastard. Just fucking dare to say that shit to me again.” Wings fanning out behind him, knocking several of the dishes stacked by the sink aside, the fae’s hand twitches for his sword. “I’ll show you what this fucking pixie is capable of.”

From the living room, Jisung lets out a high, nervous laugh. “Guys maybe- maybe we shouldn’t fight? I’m pretty sure Felix just wanted some water. We can get some water without it turning into anything else, right?” Unfortunately, both of the men in the kitchen completely ignore his request, too wrapped up in their own argument.

“I’d like to see you fucking try to hurt me.” Thoughtlessly taking a step closer, Changbin’s own hand goes for his gun. “I bet you’d just love to cut me like you did Kangsung, but I’d have you dead before you left so much as a scratch.”

“Any excuse to kill me, right?” Felix’s laugh is biting and just on the edge of cruel. As vicious as his expression, if not more so. “Because that’s all you know how to do, kill. That’s all any of you fucking hunters know how to do.” He spits those words out with enough hatred to darken the air around him. “And yet I’m the one with a collar around my throat.”

As righteous indignation swells in his chest, Changbin’s eyes narrow. “I can’t believe you of all people would have the audacity to call us killers.” He’s not even sure if he’s thinking at this point, everything has narrowed down to the fae in front of him, and the ire coursing through his veins. “At least the blood on my hands isn’t the blood of someone innocent.”

“Fuck you, he was not innocent!” Quick as a snake, Felix has his sword drawn and pointed at Changbin’s chest. “He fucking deserved it!”

Gloria is out and her safety off before the fae can get even a centimeter closer. “Does that lie let you sleep at night?” Changbin demands, the barrel of his gun aimed directly between Felix’s eyes. “Or do you have a conscience after all?”

In that moment, he thinks he actually might kill the fae. If he shifts forward, if he so much as twitches, Changbin think’s he’ll be justified. It’s been nothing but absolute hell these past two weeks and he doesn’t care anymore. If Felix attacks him, then he’s going to pull the trigger, consequences be damned. And he sees that same resolution in the other man’s eyes, that complete and utter readiness to kill. With only a hair-thin thread of self-control keeping him from lunging forward.

“Go ahead and try,” Felix growls, an awful smile twitching over his lips. “Just try.”

Changbin’s smirk is every bit as nasty. “Give me a fucking reason.”

Which is as far as either of them get before something overpowering and deeply wrong fills Changbin’s nose and lungs. Opening his mouth, maybe to shout or possibly just to try and draw breath, he finds his body freezing up, as his muscles stiffen before calcifying like rock. Swiftly, he tries to move his arms, only for them to lock up where they are, still with his finger hovering over the trigger of his gun and the barrel aimed at Felix’s face. The process is at once too quick to prevent, yet just slow enough that he’s entirely aware of it happening, and it might have been painful if it weren’t for the adrenaline still surging through him.

Focusing on the face of the fae across from him, Changbin tries to speak only for another wave of that wrongness to fill him, until he thinks he’s choking. As Felix seizes up as well, panic shooting through his eyes, the hunter recognizes the taste that’s filling the back of his throat.

Cherry.

Seungmin.

“Alright.” The non-human’s voice doesn’t really come from the ambient air around them, instead it echoes in Changbin’s head, hardly more than a purr. “That’s enough.” He can’t see Seungmin, but somehow he feels the presence of those numerous teeth like they were hovering over the nape of his neck. “I think it’s time for you two to cool off.”

Briefly, a high pitched whine fills his ears, like an awful case of tinnitus. Before he can wince, or even really react at all, it intensifies to the point that his vision starts to fizzle. For a second, the pressure is unbearable, then there’s a faint pop and he’s standing in his room. Seungmin’s overwhelming magic is gone, he’s still holding Gloria, and the faint moonlight from outside the base is glinting through his window.

For a moment, he just stands there, as he mentally checks to make sure all of his limbs are still intact. As soon as that box has been checked off, he’s lurching in the direction of his bedroom door, only holstering his pistol as an afterthought.

The door isn’t there.

“Seungmin!” Changbin’s voice jumps in pitch as it echoes through the house. “This isn’t funny!”

From somewhere down the hallway, he can hear the faint sound of Felix viciously cursing in faespeak. He doesn’t know enough to gather the full context of what he’s saying, but it’s enough to leave a certain feeling of vindication in his gut. At least he’s not the only one locked away.

A deep hum fills the area outside of Changbin’s room. “I know it’s not funny.” Seungmin couldn’t sound more placid and unfazed if he tried. “If I recall correctly, you were threatening Felix with physical violence.” 

“Oh, like he didn’t start it.” Tempted to kick the wall, Changbin eyes where his door used to be and thinks better of it. “This is bullshit, if you want to do something useful, then take away his sword. Then we wouldn’t have this problem.”

“So you threatening to blow my brains out is fine then, right?” Felix’s voice is a little difficult to make out with Chan’s and Hyunjin’s room between them, but he’s able to pick up the gist. “Those are some fucking double-standards if I’ve ever heard them.”

“I wouldn’t have to stay armed if you’d stop reacting to every single little thing violently!”

“You’re the one who-“

Almost like the walls are actively thickening around them, Felix’s voice fades out, until all Changbin can hear is Seungmin clicking his tongue. “I think this will give you both a chance to consider your behavior.” Even though Changbin is technically the one in charge while Chan is away, the non-human’s tone makes it extremely clear who actually has the power here. “We’ve all been patient with you two, and tried to give you every allowance. But the line has to be drawn somewhere, and this is mine.”

Unable to hear Felix’s reaction to Seungmin’s words, all Changbin can do is growl under his breath before snapping, “Give me back my door.”

“Later,” Seungmin answers, utterly impassive.

He desperately wants to argue further, but disagreeing with the non-human is a bit like disagreeing with a brick wall. Stubbornness isn’t even the word for it, because that implies some level of motivation behind it. Some human element. Seungmin simply makes up his mind, and that’s that.

So instead of wasting his breath, Changbin takes a step back from the wall and turns away. At least Felix is somewhere he can’t hurt anyone. It’s shallow comfort, but it’s better than focusing on his own predicament. Which, currently, is looking to be almost as much of a headache as the fae two doors down.

Or… not doors? Hell, I hope he can fix that.

Softly, the floorboards of the hallway creak under Seungmin’s feet. “I’m glad we’ve had this talk.” There’s no sound of him walking away, but the implied exit is enough. Changbin could try to keep up the conversation with the non-human, but to be honest, he’s still too upset for that, and at least some of that anger is directed at Seungmin himself. Instead, he paces around his room for a couple of heavy minutes until he’s certain he’s going to lose his mind.

Logically, he should sit down on his bed and actually try to calm down. Stewing isn’t going to help. But here’s the thing, he doesn’t want to calm down. Changbin has been trying to calm down for days now, and it’s done nothing to help him. This, at least, offers something like a pressure valve.

Glancing sideways at his window, Changbin narrows his eyes miserably before making up his mind. He may not be allowed inside, but at the very least a walk might do him good. Just some outside air for once. Briefly, he’s worried Seungmin will have sealed off this exit as well, but apparently the non-human wasn’t that thorough. Within seconds he’s jimmied it wide enough to clamber through, and the escape itself is even easier.

As his shoes scuff against the rocky ground outside, Changbin draws in a lungful of air and coughs at the lingering taste of cherry on the back of his tongue. This late at night, somewhere hellish between the hours of twelve and one, the mountain air is biting and unkind, nipping at his skin and picking at his hair. Still, it’s better than the stifling atmosphere in the house, and he accepts it gratefully. 

Stepping further away from the house, which looks lonely set against the vast emptiness around them, with only the moon as company, Changbin stares off at the mountains. Something is brewing in his chest, and he only recognizes it as the urge to just yell after the sound has already left him. It’s short, loud, and frustrated. Somehow not nearly enough, even though it succeeds in scratching that itch, if only a little bit.

The dead zone swallows his shouts, but there’s just enough reverberation to be soothing. He’s not even sure why yelling is helping, but it does. Obviously, if Seungmin hadn’t been aware of him leaving the house before, he definitely is now, but that’s fine. Let him snap Changbin back inside. At least he’s had a few seconds of freedom.

Blessed freedom, after weeks trapped in that damn base with the same damn fae.

“Are you done with your tantrum?”

Speak of a devil and it shall appear. Hardly bothering to turn in Felix’s direction, Changbin huffs out, “I could say the same to you.”

“I’m not the one screaming at… What? The mountains? The rock garden?”

His eyes drift to Hyunjin’s constant art project, which as always has shifted back into a spiral in his absence. “Maybe you should try it,” Changbin suggests, already scowling. “It’s better than drawing a sword over an argument.” The words are as biting as usual, but… Maybe the fresh air is helping, because it’s a little more difficult to hold onto his anger. That, or Seungmin’s power is still lingering in his lungs. 

“You would have pulled your gun first if I pushed the right buttons.” Felix throws the words at him like it’s an insult, but in that moment, Changbin’s forced to wonder if they’re true. With how twitchy he’s been lately, maybe all it would take was something that dug a little too deeply to have him making rash decisions.

Like openly carrying a weapon in the house isn’t one in the first place.

Instinct tells him to push those thoughts away, to keep bickering with the fae if only so he doesn’t get the upper hand, but… Hell. It hits Changbin at that moment how tired he is. He doesn’t want to argue anymore. This past week especially has been misery, and he’s sick of being two ill-placed words away from snapping at all times. Felix’s behavior aside, he doesn’t want this for himself.

Which is why he drags in a heavy breath before admitting, “You’re right, I probably would have.”

The statement hangs between them, as damning as it is conciliatory. Changbin decides he doesn’t care much either way. Honesty feels good, less like he’s constantly trying to choke down gravel. As some of the tension leaves his shoulders, he stares up at the sky. The stars above them are the only things that don't warp into those little spirals, and it makes them look almost out of place, like someone painted them there.

Clearing his throat, Felix audibly struggles with his janky window for a moment before wrenching it open. As Changbin casts a glance over his shoulder, he gets to see the man fluttering down to the ground below, his faintly blue wings glittering in the moonlight. In this lighting, his purple skin almost looks ashy gray; the translucent sapphire of his hands turning to dark glass. At his side, his sword hangs. Sheathed but still present.

Deliberately, Changbin looks away.

“I hate it here.”

For once, Felix’s voice isn’t promising imminent violence. If anything, he sounds just as exhausted as Changbin. Rocking back on his bare feet, the fae is silent for a long handful of seconds before continuing, “Then again, I hated the last place I was too. Kinda blows my fucking mind that the same people who arrested me in the first place think I’ll be willing to work with them, but… You people are insane.”

It’s hard to disagree with that accusation of insanity. Nights like this, he really feels their truth. “You should be grateful,” Changbin mutters, but his heart isn’t in it and it comes out hollow.

Maybe Felix can hear that, because his answering, “Fucking why,” isn’t nearly as barbed as it could have been.

Making a sound in the base of his throat, Changbin grumbles, “I don’t know. Because you’re not in jail? You’re not in the Cradle, or somewhere like it.” Staring off at the horizon, at the rocks that rise up in jagged spikes like little needles, he shakes his head. “By comparison if nothing else, this is better.”

There’s the faint sound of bare feet against rock as Felix draws level with Changbin. There’s still a couple arm’s lengths of distance between them, but he’s visible out of the corner of the hunter’s eye. He’s almost entirely silent when he moves, but it’s Changbin’s job to pay attention, and so he hears the scuff. That, and the weight of injustice in the breath the man lets out. “If I’d been a human in the exact same situation, I’d be walking free right now.”

It’s one of those things that’s supposed to fill you with righteous indignation, one way or the other, but Changbin just shrugs. “Maybe. Maybe not.” The law is complicated. Though he’s no expert, he knows just enough to know it’s tangled no matter what shape you are. Sure, interspecies law is famously terrible, but he also knows that depending on the circumstance, it’s awful for both sides. No matter what the specifics of Felix’s crime were, the moment it involved a human and a non-human, things were bound to get messy.

But he doesn’t say that, because deep down, he suspects Felix already knows.

Kicking at a rock, the fae’s wings flutter. “It’d be better that way, if I’d been… Acquitted or whatever. At least I wouldn’t be in your hair right now.”

“How magnanimous.” Pursing his lips, Changbin reaches for his chest and rubs at the scar of his last bond mark. It doesn’t hurt anymore, but the memory is still there. The ever-worsening burn of a bond going bad. “It’s never going to happen, not unless Chan-hyung decides enough is enough, but it’s a nice thought.”

“It could.” Turning on him, Felix’s chin tips into the air, sending long, dark purple hair fluttering away from his face. “If you give me those bracelets of yours, I could leave.”

Slowly, Changbin faces the man. “What?”

“You heard me.”

Blinking once, he glances at the lock stones clasped around his wrist. For something so dreadfully important, they’d be easy enough to remove and just… hand over. Felix is right, without the magic of the collar threatening him with a swift and painful death if he runs, he could just leave. Sure, Changbin would have to answer to Chan for what happened, but this would be over, and he could go back to the closest approximation of normal a hunter can manage. After these past few weeks, it sounds nice.

“I’ll fly off, I swear to the Queen, you’ll never see me again.” Felix’s eyes are wide, and just a little desperate. “It’s two birds with one stone, right? You can’t fucking stand me, I can’t fucking stand any of you. If I leave, I won’t be your problem anymore, and we’ll never be…” He gestures to his chest, where Changbin imagines the open wound removing his last mark had left behind is still healing. “Just let me go.”

It’s tempting. Already, he finds himself fiddling with the lock stones, clicking them together as he thinks. In all his years of working for the Bureau, Changbin has never even considered something similar, but then, he’s never been faced with someone like Felix. Someone who seems hell bent on making him miserable, even if it seems to be at his own detriment. And that would be gone.

No more stand offs, no more checking corners and always being prepared for a fight. No more tossing and turning in bed, worried that one of the less vigilant individuals in the base was going to get themselves killed. 

Unbidden, a face flashes through his mind. An ancient one, from the beginning of his career. The werewolf he’d killed that had earned him the dubious honor of specializing in eliminations. Almost at once, he pulls his hand away from his wrist, as something he hadn’t realized was quite so ingrained into him leaves bile rising up in his throat.

The crime of manslaughter or maybe just the excessive use of force in self defense is a bad one. Felix definitely deserves some kind of punishment for what he’s done. But if Changbin lets him go, the penalty for running will be death. Unequivocally, whether it’s right or not. And as it stands, as much as he dislikes the fae, he doesn’t want to see him die. Not really.

It’s rare he notices Gloria’s weight when she’s strapped to him, but in that second, Changbin feels every ounce, like the gun has become lead. 

“I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

Felix’s face contorts. “Why not?” he demands, his voice soft and heavy with misery. “You hate me. I’m nothing but trouble, right? You can tell them I- I overpowered you or something. That you weren’t paying attention.” As the words leave his mouth, his lips twist into a sneer. “Don’t tell me your pride-”

“It has nothing to do with my ego.” Glaring at the fae, Changbin gestures out into the darkness of the deadzone around them. “If I let you run, you will die.” He knows full well that it sounds dramatic, he can see Felix’s disbelief on his face, but he presses on ahead. “Let's say I do give you the lock stones and you get to run off. You think Seungmin isn’t aware of everything that happens in this area? You think he’s going to let you leave? If you’re lucky he’ll just toss you back in your bedroom, but that magic out there is strong enough to tear you apart.”

“I’m not scared.” Felix’s eyes are blazing, like it’s his pride now that’s being challenged. “I can fly. I’ll be out before he knows what’s happening.” Tipping his chin up, he stares down at Changbin, a challenge in his eyes. “Don’t pretend you care enough to stop me because of that. I’m not fucking stupid.”

“Considering the fact you clearly haven’t thought this through, I’m actually not sure.” Advancing on the fae, who stands his ground easily, entirely unfazed, Changbin demands, “What happens after you leave? Where will you go then?”

That question visibly hits Felix, like the words have more weight than the rest of them. “Just because I don’t have a fucking court doesn’t mean I won’t find somewhere to go.” His hands clench into fists at his sides, the nerve Changbin struck apparent in the glow of magic that starts to rise off the man’s skin. “I- I’ll go back to my mountain. They’ll let me back. Someone will let me back. I’m not alone.”

I never mentioned a court, what does that have to do with anything? Ignoring it, Changbin shakes his head. “I’m not talking about whether you have somewhere to go or not. Has it not occurred to you that you’re going to be a wanted criminal for the rest of your life? If anyone finds you, that’s it. And they aren’t just going to let you get away. It’s never that convenient.”

“Then I’ll keep running!” Wings flaring out behind him, the fae steps forward, until Changbin swears he can count the colors in the man’s kaleidoscopic eyes. “Anything is better than being stuck here!”

“You’re being a fucking idiot.” Fiercely, Changbin spits, “Death isn’t preferable.”

“Maybe it is!” Though Felix doesn’t raise his voice, he does hiss the words in Changbin’s face, leaning over until they’re almost nose to nose. “Look at me and tell me why a spring fae like me would ever want to work for your fucking organization. And that’s not even- they’re the ones who put me in this situation in the first place. Maybe I’d rather die than be here any fucking longer.”

The urge to grab the man by the collar of his loose shirt is strong, but Changbin resists it. Instead, he just levels his voice and growls out, “You’re entitled to your own death wishes, but I don’t have to be part of it. Which is why you’re staying right here until you’ve served your sentence. And when that’s over, I couldn’t care less where you go or what you do.”

An angry sound builds in the back of Felix’s throat. For a moment, Changbin thinks the man is going to draw his sword again. That or use some of the magic sparking around his throat and collarbones to try and overpower him with force. But instead, he just steps backward, his wing lifting him slightly into the air as he does.

“Maybe I will just leave.” Felix’s eyes are dark. “If it’ll kill me anyway. At least we’ll all know why I died.”

Changbin’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t rise to it. “Go then. You won’t even make it out of the dead zone.”

He half expects Felix to do it, to fly off into the night and leave Changbin to figure out how to get him back, but after a moment, he growls low in his chest and settles back to the ground. Fixing the hunter with one last poisoned glare, the man turns sharply on his heel and steps back towards the house. Perhaps it’s his job to stop the man and say something, but Changbin’s lips stay sealed. He just stares off into the night as Felix clambers back through his window and wrenches it closed.

As silence descends once more, Changbin heaves out a breath before stumbling backwards. Finding the small, crumbling stone bench that’s pushed up under Chan and Hyunjin’s window, he settles down. Though he knows he’s probably only lowered Felix’s opinion of him, at least he’ll be able to look himself in the mirror tomorrow. If he’d let the fae run off, he wouldn’t have been able to live with the consequences. Just because I dislike you doesn’t mean you deserve to die.

Running a tired hand through his hair, Changbin hangs his head and gazes sightlessly at the rock garden. Honestly, at this point, he’s at a loss. He doesn’t know how to get through to Felix, and judging by some of the things the man had said, he’s not going to be able to. He’d mentioned not only a court, but also the fact he’s a spring fae, and while Changbin vaguely knows about both, he has no idea how it’s got anything to do with any of this.

He’s out of his depth, and he’s tired of pretending he isn’t.

It occurs to him, as he sits there, that this was the most civil conversation he’s managed with Felix so far, and now they’re right back where they started. If not somewhere worse. The thought is enough to drag a sigh out of him.

Under his breath, Changbin mutters, “I don’t want to hate you, Felix, but you’re not making it easy.”

Giving himself a shake, the hunter shrugs it off. There’s no point thinking about it now, all he’ll do is walk himself in circles. Instead, he steps back over to his window and with a muted grunt of effort, he hoists him back up and over the sill. A moment later, there’s the snap of the window closing.

And in the night air, the old house itself heaves a tired sigh.

 

᚛ᚒᚖᚒ᚜ 

Notes:

Aw babies. Little feisty babies.

They'll get there eventually

Chapter 7: Deja Vu

Notes:

Okay, you need to read A War, A War (Right Behind My Eyes). It's another story based in this universe that TheSwingbyJeanHonoreFragonard wrote and when I say I am so excited that it exists-

Once you're done you can come back to this one.

Enjoy~

᚛ᚒᚖᚒ᚜

 

It's an uncomfortable air that hangs over the house for the next two days.

Deep down, Changbin knows he did the right thing, not letting Felix run off. No matter how much the fae had wanted to leave, he hadn't let himself be swayed. Obviously he'd been tempted, but he didn't give in. That had to count for something, right?

Sure, maybe it did on a personal level. But it does absolutely nothing to help his relationship with Felix.

Felix shuts down entirely. Blessedly, he stops carrying a sword in the house and in return, Changbin leaves Gloria in his room, but that doesn't make the tension go away. If anything, it ratchets up, like they're both more on guard without their usual methods of defense. It's like there's a poison slowly seeping into the air. Bitter resentment, layered on top of the hatred that was already there.

It's patently ridiculous. Changbin didn't do anything to deserve this. His greatest crime was not giving Felix the opportunity to die. Something like that shouldn't be earning him this much ire.

But it does. And he knows without being told it's not just going to go away.

So as with everything, he just endures it. For one grueling day, then another. He hopes that at some point it'll stop stinging quite as much as it does, when Felix stares at him with those huge, kaleidoscopic eyes that are so full of accusations, and that he'll be able to lapse back into apathy. Unfortunately, something about that conversation with the fae outside… It sticks.

It squats in the back of his brain and insists that he think about it. Until it starts to drive him crazy.

Seungmin, as he might've expected, is the first one to notice it. The surprising part is he's also the first one to bring it up. The non-human doesn't often ask about what's on Changbin's mind, he seems pretty confident that the hunter can handle it on his own. But apparently, this situation is different. Or at least, it's different enough that he's willing to bend some of his own personal habits to accommodate it.

"The air of this house has tasted… foul for a while now." Seungmin corners Changbin with this accusation on the third day of this new, frigid stand-off between himself and Felix. "Care to elaborate?"

As is with anytime Seungmin turns that penetrating stare on him, Changbin feels the animalistic urge to get as far away as possible from those numerous teeth surge in his throat. And, as always, he fights it down. "It's nothing I can't handle, Seungmin." He tries to inject a note of confidence into his voice. Unfortunately he's not entirely sure he succeeds.

"Mmm," Seungmin hums, clearly unimpressed. "And if I ask Felix the same question, I suppose I'll get the same answer."

"I don't fucking know." It comes out harsher than Changbin intended, but he stands by it nonetheless, shrugging his shoulders in an attempt to get the raised hairs on the back of his neck to calm down. "It's not like he's told me."

Far be it from him to see inside Felix's mind much less understand what the hell goes on between those pointed lilac ears. It could be anything. At this point, if you told him Felix was thinking something, however outlandish, he'd probably believe you. "He's pissed off. He'll get over himself eventually."

"I thought he was settling down…" Seungmin trails off slightly, before appending a delicate period to the end of the sentence. "It's unfortunate to see him regress. I figured since Channie made such a point of asking you to take care of your new partner, I should at least ask."

Though he doesn't mean to, Changbin flinches slightly at the reminder. Because Seungmin has a point, obviously. As much as he dislikes the fae and as much as the fae despises him in return, it is his job to look after Felix. He'd promised to figure things out, to make an effort to fix this shit. So far, he's soundly failed.

Considering the fact Chan's going to be returning from his last job within the next day or so, Changbin's lack of measurable success feels all the more pressing. As much as he wants to, he can't just keep stewing. He needs answers.

For obvious reasons, he would rather find those answers on his own. Regrettably, with Seungmin's black eyes currently boring holes into his soul, it's a little difficult to maintain that conviction. He feels as though he's being dissected, one interaction with Felix at a time. And of course, it all culminates with this.

As if this partnership falling apart before it's begun is his fault, and no one else's.

Grudgingly, the story spills out, directed at the floor because Changbin can't quite bring himself to meet Seungmin's eyes. "I don't know, we got into a fight a few nights back." Grimacing, he amends, "Another fight. Not the one you intervened in."

Seungmin just gives another hum, like he's entirely unsurprised by this news. "I'd applaud you for actually talking to him, but clearly it didn't do any good."

Snorting, Changbin's jaw tightens."No, I didn't." He’s struck again by a distinct memory of that night, of Felix's face, stamped with that look of resentment, anger, and a deep abiding bitterness that he can't quite comprehend. The scene sours on his tongue. "He wanted me to let him die.”

One of Seungmin’s eyebrows lifts, almost imperceptibly.

Wincing internally, Changbin corrects himself. “Well, actually, he wanted me to let him escape. I told him that would kill him. He seemed to think that might be preferable to this." Shaking his head, he shrugs. “It sounds insane, I know, but… that's what he said."

Admittedly, it's only striking him now just how strange Felix’s priorities are to him. Changbin’s never had someone look at this job, at being a hunter, and genuinely think death was preferable. Granted, he knows it's not for everyone, but it's not that bad. Even if you're dumped into it as a form of community service, it's a job. You maintain your freedom, theoretically. 

Eventually, you can leave.

Then again, maybe his view on it is too narrow. He's here because he explicitly chose to be, there’s a chance he'll never fully be able to understand what it's like for someone who was never given an option.

Except that's not true, he thinks, somewhat resentfully. He could have gone to prison. That's always an option. Evidently, Felix has just decided an ignoble death is the third way of going about this.

"I agree," Seungmin intones, breaking Changbin's thoughts apart. "That is a bit extreme, but I’ve found mortals are often shortsighted like that."

Ignoring the ‘mortals’ comment– they often have to do that around here, you get used to it after a decade- Changbin puffs out his cheeks. "It wasn’t all a death-wish. He said some other stuff too when we talked. Something about a court…" He shakes his head. "I don't know shit about fae politics past what they told us in the intro classes. Didn’t know fae courts were as much of a thing anymore, but it seemed important to him."

Minutely, his mouth turns down at the corners. "Then again, maybe they aren't a thing. Since he said he doesn't have one."

Unexpectedly, that catches Seungmin’s attention. Eyes narrowing, expression intensifying, the non-human zeros in on Changbin’s words with sudden, laser focus. "What else did he say?" Though his tone is ever delicate, Seungmin clearly expects nothing but a full and accurate recount. When Changbin raises an eyebrow, he bares his regrettably numerous teeth. "Humor me."

He’s not sure he wants to, but Seungmin is doing that thing where the air around him swims uncomfortably, and thoughts of resistance become decidedly soupy. Reluctantly, Changbin decides to give in. Before he finds himself sitting at the dining room table with no memory of how he got there.

Racking his brain for exact details, Changbin gives a little shake of his head. "It was when we were arguing about where he'd run to, and why he doesn't want to work for the Bureau. He brought being a spring fae into it. I know they're typically more… standoffish than the rest of the species, but I wasn't aware there was an actual problem.” As he says it aloud, he realizes how hilariously out of his depth he is. This is so not my area of expertise.

"No, it's not most people’s,” Seungmin agrees, unbothered by the fact Changbin hadn’t actually said that thought out loud. His brows furrow in a rare show of concern. "Doesn't have a court… Are you sure those were his exact words?"

"I think?" Feeling mysteriously out of the loop for someone who had been an active participant in the argument to begin with, Changbin crosses his arms. "Hold on, Seungmin, what's going on? Why is he… Is there something I should know?"

"No," Seungmin decides simply, the frown on his face settling in like it’s been carved there. "But I fear it was something I should have already known. Or at least anticipated." The squirming of the air worsens. “Mortals.”

Arguably, Changbin has no right to get this disgruntled about the situation. After all, he and Felix aren't even partners yet, and they definitely aren’t on great terms. As it stands, Felix’s business is no more his than it is anyone else's. But the fae is going to be his partner, so if there's something important that Seungmin is hiding concerning him, Changbin feels he at least has the right to ask.

Even if he doesn’t have the right to an answer.

"You know why he's upset." It's less a question, and more a declarative statement.

Immediately sensing the shift in Changbin's tone, Seungmin's eyes slide sideways, and the pitch black of his gaze seems to deepen. To the point of being distinctly upsetting. "Don't worry," he insists, almost like he's giving an order. "I'll handle this."

While Changbin gets a distinct sense that nothing he says he's going to change Seungmin's mind, he still tries. "With all due respect, I think I should be the one taking care of it. He's my partner."

Seungmin smile is placid. "If you truly believed that, Changbin, you would have figured it out weeks ago."

Inwardly, Changbin winces.

Like he knows he's won, Seungmin's smile broadens and he looms slightly over Changbin once more. "I suggest you take this opportunity to get out of the house for a while. You've been horribly cooped up, it’s starting to show. How about you go for a walk. I'm sure Jisung will be delighted to go with you."

Just the suggestion has Changbin sagging slightly, but he's not ready to give in just yet. "I'm pretty sure Chan-hyung’s orders were pretty specific. I can't go anywhere until I've got this shit with Felix figured out."

Setting a light hand on Changbin's shoulder, Seungmin gives him an almost conspiratorial look. "I didn't say leave the area. I don't think there's any need to go farther than the limits of the dead zone, but if you're still worried, it can be our little secret. I won't tell Chan a thing."

It's very hard to argue with Seungmin, even more so when he's making direct physical contact. It's almost like there's something to his touch that dissolves Changbin’s willpower. Settling, yes, but also distinctly wrong and overwhelming.

Inevitably, Changbin relents. "I won't be able to go very far,” he points out halfheartedly. “I've got his collar to worry about."

Seungmin has the audacity to give a compassionate chuckle, as though he hasn’t pressured Changbin into this. "You don't have to worry about a thing. In fact, I'd even recommend leaving the lock stones with me." Changbin gives him an understandably dubious look, Seungmin returns one of those smiles that shows off far too many of his teeth. "What, you think he's going to be able to take them off me? Please. I’ll give them back when you get home.”

Which, as far as Changbin can tell, is how he ends up with Jisung taking a run outside their base.

Considering the fact he hasn't really gotten much physical activity in the past couple weeks, the exercise kicks Changbin’s ass. He's decent at long distance running, in fact, he’d take it any day over sprinting, but their dead zone is still a good six miles wide even at its thinnest point. And when taking into account the spiral the whole thing inevitably leads you in, you're looking at a run that ends up being a fair bit more than just six miles, even if you’re only going to the perimeter.

Sure it’s not the most grueling run in the world, but there and back is plenty considering running isn’t typically in Changbin’s job description.

Contrastingly, Jisung has very little trouble keeping up with Changbin. That might have something to do with the fact that he’s… not entirely human at this point, but Changbin usually disregards that as a factor. In all fairness, considering how long he's lived around Seungmin, he's probably not entirely human either. Alright, there's definitely a difference, but he likes to pretend that it's not a big one.

The two of them spend most of the run in relative silence, broken only by heavy breathing and their shoes on rock. Admittedly, Changbin's not in the mood for conversation. He’s got a lot going on in his head, stuff he's not even sure he could put into words, let alone wants to. It’s a can of worms that just feels too big to open right now.

Thankfully, Jisung is one of those people who is really good at just being there. He's chatty when he wants to be, but at times like this, he's absolutely willing to shut up and just run with Changbin. Besides, he seems to be enjoying the company either way

Usually, Changbin wouldn't do this sort of thing in the middle of the day, when the sun is at its zenith, but he wasn't going to argue with Seungmin. The additional threat of dehydration had them bringing several water bottles instead of just the one he’d usually pack, and they’ve already drained two. Luckily, despite the dead zone warping most everything in the area, there's still that water spigot that the Bureau installed back when the dead zone was only at about four miles wide instead of six.

It's the little things.

As the hypnotic impact of his feet against the ground lulls his subconscious, Changbin can't help but wonder what Seungmin and Felix are talking about. Granted, he's kind of exhausted his own methods of reaching out to the fae, but it still leaves him feeling distinctly like he didn't try. Or at least, he didn't try hard enough. Surely, there could've been some way for him to get through to Felix. After all, he's an experienced hunter. He's been through enough partners that he should just know.

He doesn't know. And the more distance he physically puts between himself and Felix, the more depressed about the whole situation he finds himself.

Maybe it really would have been just as easy as giving the man more patience. Trying to understand where he's coming from. Realistically, Changbin knows he doesn't particularly care where Felix is coming from. The man has been nothing but trouble since he arrived, and that doesn't go away just because he's gone through some tough times. But maybe his negative outlook on the whole thing is tapping into something deeper. Something more personal.

He's well aware that he's got problems of his own. Stupid ones that seem like they should be easy to cope with, but in reality aren’t. At a certain level, Changbin’s convinced it's just a ‘hunter thing’ and dismisses it entirely. At times like these though, he wishes his brain would work normally.

Or at least at the level of fucked up he started with. That would make this all so much easier.

Jisung finally calls him out on all the over-thinking when they’re stopping for more water. Which is good, because Changbin has long since lost his own battle to his head.

Contrary to what you might imagine, the water spigot isn’t just on its own in the middle of nowhere. Instead, it’s by what remains of their old garage. What used to be a ramshackle building has long since warped past any sort of recognizability. The wood is twisted, the foundation has become a steady, gradually lengthening curve. The blue shingles that once covered the roof now all seem to curl up in the strangest manner possible. Despite being only about seven years old, the place looks like it’s been abandoned for centuries.

Regardless, the old water pipe still works perfectly. The hose has long since tangled and warped beyond use, but somehow, the plumbing has stuck around. Changbin doesn't want to know what it looks like underground, but when he turns the squeaky little knob, fresh water still pours out just like always.

At least he hopes it's fresh. Otherwise, this is probably a little dangerous.

"You're thinking about Felix, huh?"

Jisung’s question comes out of nowhere, at least, it does in Changbin's opinion. Stopping, water bottle held under the spigot and his eyebrows raised, he turns to the younger hunter and purses his lips. "I mean, he's generally been on my mind for the last few weeks. Why?"

Jisung shrugs. "I dunno, I’ve just noticed when he's on your mind, you get that line between your eyebrows. The weird one."

'The weird line between his eyebrows' is unfortunately not a good enough description to let Changbin know what he means. Actually, he wasn't aware that he had a face he made when he thought about Felix at all. The knowledge he does is somewhat concerning. "Sorry," he mutters, before going back to his water bottle.

As he puts the second one underneath the stream, Jisung tries again. "Look, if you don't want to talk about it, I get it. It's a lot, they throw things at us nonstop these days, but if you do want to vent…" His shoulders shiver slightly in one of those soundless laughs. "I'm here."

Briefly, Changbin feels guilty. At one point, in what seems like the none too distant past, it would've been him comforting Jisung. He's the older one, after all, it's his job to make sure the younger man is okay, but these days he hasn't been doing a great job with that. Sure, maybe on the surface he still plays the role of mentor, but he doesn't give it his all like he used to. And his help pales in comparison to Chan’s, who seems utterly incapable of knowing when to stop giving his entire heart to the people on his team.

Mollified by his own thoughts, Changbin draws in a breath. "It's not your problem, Sung. You shouldn’t have to worry about it." It sounds weak even to his own ears, so he does his best to inject as much certainty into his tone as he can. "It's just like any other partner I've had. It's going to take me some time to get used to him, but I'll figure it out. Eventually."

Sucking in his bottom lip, Jisung chews on it for several seconds before puffing out his cheeks. "You know, I think it’s already gotten better than when he first got here."

Shutting off the water, capping the last water bottle, Changbin pulls a wry, empty smile. "You figure?"

"Yeah, I do." As he takes one of the water bottles offered to him, Jisung gives a firm nod. "I mean, I know you and Felix are still fighting a bit, but I think he's getting more used to us. That's the first step! After that, it should all just fall into place."

Days like this, Changbin has no idea where Jisung's boundless optimism comes from. Especially considering the fact that the most mundane things make him anxious, it’s weird how something that would've had anybody else chewing their nails doesn’t faze him in the slightest. In fact, he seems almost excited by it all.

As they resume their journey to the outskirts of the dead zone, Changbin takes several gulps from his water before answering. "Fuck, I don't know. Maybe it’s getting better. I'd like it to be getting better, I'm sick of feeling like my home is a war zone.”

Jisung has the nerve to giggle. "You don't think that's a little bit of an overreaction, hyung?" He wiggles his eyebrows. "As if Seungminnie wouldn't take care of any actual threat. Felix may be a lot of bark, but he's not going to be any bite. At least, not enough of one to hurt us.”

Scrubbing a hand through sweaty hair, Changbin exhales slowly and stares up at the sky above them. The day is cloudless, but he still swears he can see the spirals in the air currents above them, like even the atmosphere squirms with Seungmin's presence. "I assume you're going to laugh if I point out that Felix has already hurt us."

Intentionally pulling a serious face, Jisung says, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Sighing, Changbin gives up. "You may not be worried but I have been. And maybe that’s just because I… got off on the wrong foot with him or something, but- fuck, I don’t know. I’m sick of dealing with Felix’s bullshit, but I don't want to let Chan-hyung down."

Sagely, Jisung nods and reaches over to give him a pat on the back. "Yeah, I get it. I think we all feel that." As their pace speeds back up to more of a fast walk instead of an amble, he points out, "But I feel like Chan-hyung would be more disappointed if he knew you were suffering just to make him happy."

Though the conversation peters out after that, allowing them to resume their run, Changbin finds himself pondering what the other hunter said. There's a very large part of him that knows Jisung is absolutely right. If he went to Chan and told him that Felix was genuinely making him miserable, he's almost certain that their leader would do something about it. Whether it be moving forward with his alternative plan to shift Hyunjin over to Changbin, or simply relocating the fae entirely, he’d make changes. He loves them too much to do otherwise. 

By the same token, the thought of letting Chan down like that leaves a sick feeling in Changbin’s stomach. One that's arguably many times worse than any of the negative emotions Felix has managed to summon up.

As much as Changbin complains, as much as he wishes that Felix had never entered into the picture, he's not ready to give up just yet. And it's not even that Seungmin is currently talking to the fae, hopefully figuring out whatever the man's issue is. Or even that he doesn’t want to let his leader down. No, it's something else. Something Changbin can't quite put his finger on, and doesn't know if he ever will.

Fundamentally, he's aware that if he went and told Chan that he couldn't do it, he'd be lying. He may be upset, he may be beyond frustrated, but he's not at the end of his rope.

Which, logically, means that the only path left to him is forward. 

By the time they reach the edges of the dead zone, the sun has slipped just a bit past its peak and Changbin has thoroughly sweat through his shirt. Jisung isn't doing much better, his white muscle tee clinging uncomfortably to his torso. He looks distinctly like he wants to pull it off entirely, a sentiment Changbin can’t help but echo.

Exchanging a glance with Jisung, they both pull similar faces before stripping out of the thin tee shirts and exchanging them for the water bottles in Changbin’s bag.

It's immediately apparent when they reach the border, like they’ve stepped back into the real world. Unlike most dead zones, where there's at least a little bit of uncertainty where they stop and reality resumes, the pattern Seungmin always leaves behind is particularly distinguishable. You can almost pinpoint to the nearest centimeter where the rocks have stopped warping; where the air has stopped twisting. It also helps that there's a definite line of greenery along the outside, always valiantly attempting to creep in.

The moment he steps outside the immediate realm of Seungmin’s influence, Changbin practically feels the air sharpen, as the shift in the atmosphere hits him like a wall. If nothing else, it definitely clears his head as he takes a couple seconds to acclimate.

As the two of them wander over to where their team keeps their Bureau-issued vehicles parked, Changbin focuses on leveling his breathing back out. There’s something spinning through his brain, something formed from the conversation the two of them had been having earlier, but trying to formulate that thought into words is proving to be a struggle. He feels like he needs to voice it all somehow, if only to make it real, even if he sounds a little crazy in the process.

At least he knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that Jisung isn't going to judge him for it, or worse, try to help. He'll just listen and laugh at any self-deprecating humor Changbin manages to dredge up. Which sounds like exactly what he needs right now.

Unfortunately, before he can put it all together, Jisung starts talking.

"Hey, do you think Felix would want one of these plants?"

The question comes out of nowhere. Changbin has to blink a couple of times to let his brain reset. "What?"

"I mean, he's an everflower. They’re…" Jisung waves hand as he searches for the term. “Spring fae! They like plants, right? We can bring him one of the plants here. He could like… take care of it or something. It might make him feel more at home."

Squinting at the other hunter for a long moment, utterly baffled, Changbin finally strangles out, "Not all fae are obsessed with plants, you know that, right?"

"Don't be dumb, of course I know that." Puffing out his chest, Jisung defends himself with, "I just remember how he didn't like the plants from inside our base, so maybe we could get one from the outside."

Stunned, unsure if Jisung is actually being serious right now or just pulling his leg, Changbin casts a look at the greenery around them. There's nothing impressive about it, it's all weeds and tangled brambles. Most of them aren't even cool weeds, just the stubborn vegetation that manages to cling to life in this rocky region. Briefly, he tries to imagine presenting one of these sorry-looking plants to Felix in a sincere manner. The rails of that train of thought dead end quickly.

Unfortunately, Jisung has already made up his mind. By the time Changbin has turned his attention back to him, the man has managed to dig up one of the saddest looking weeds from the bunch and presents it with a wide grin stretching his cheeks. Even as he holds the plant, it droops, its ugly little leaves sticking to his fingers.

Jisung’s smile is heart shaped and sincere; impossible to avoid being endeared by.

"Look, I just think he’d like it. His room is so empty, and it's not like he’s accepting anybody else's help with redecorating it." If Jisung had been a canid, his tail would've been wagging. As it is, the sparkle in his big eyes does it all for him.

Wilting slightly, just like the weed, Changbin shakes his head. "I… I know you mean well, but I don't want to offend him again. It’s like everything I do just triggers something and makes it worse. I'm sick of it.” And I’m not sure how much more of it I can take, he doesn’t finish.

"You're not going to offend him, Changbinnie." Chuckling at the nickname, clearly pleased when the worst he gets is a raised eyebrow, Jisung grabs one of Changbin's hands and deliberately deposits the plant into his palm. "But I know what you mean, non-humans are weird sometimes. I swear, I never know what Seungmin is thinking."

"You at least have a good excuse." Begrudgingly accepting the weed, awkwardly holding it as he tries to figure out where to put it, Changbin mutters, "Seungmin’s at least properly fucking incomprehensible. I don't think anyone gets him."

"I know." Jisung shakes his head. "I'm going to a support group for it and everything. Though, I’m not sure why at this point. Kevin isn’t any better at interpreting Seungmin than I am, and I don’t really need support. I like Seungmin. I’m doing great."

Changbin has never actually had the pleasure of attending one of these support groups that Kevin over from Jaehan's team holds, but he's heard tales of them. Apparently, it's full of other people who've ended up tied to non-humans that are just a little more unsettling than others. From what he's also heard, none of those humans are too terribly upset by said terrifying partners. If anything, he thinks they're troublingly content.

The idea of being bonded to a creature like Seungmin is a frightening one. Changbin wants to say he’s not sure how Jisung manages, but then, the man has always been a little off himself.

"Maybe I should follow you someday," Changbin jokes, giving up and stuffing the plant into one of the loose pockets of his gym shorts. "Can’t say I’m a fan of therapy, but if it helps me understand Felix a little better…"

Waving hand, Jisung insists, "It's not therapy. It's just… talking with people who get it. And there’s free coffee involved! It's more of a social group than anything else." That may be his take on it, but if Kevin is anywhere near the group, Changbin’s certain there's some unofficial therapy going on as well. It’s said that once you join the force, it’s impossible to take the hunter out of someone, but if you ask Changbin, it’d take a dragon’s claw to remove the psych degree from Kevin.

Regardless, Changbin lets it slide. For the most part, he was joking, he doesn't actually want anyone's help with understanding Felix. Asking for it would make him feel more useless than he already does, And void knows he feels bad enough as it is. Surely, if he just waits it out, eventually something’s going to fall into place.

Considering how Felix has been acting, it feels like the most egregious wishful thinking he's ever indulged in.

Bumping into him, letting that moment of skin to skin contact do half of the talking for him, Jisung smiles at Changbin. “You know, you're doing alright, hyung."

Sagging where he stands, Changbin mumbles, "Sure."

"No really, you are." Eyes wide and guileless, Jisung continues, "I know Felix still seems standoffish, and he snaps whenever any of us try to directly talk to him, but he's gotten better the rest of the time. He's sleeping and he cleans his plate and he’s more relaxed? Whether he’d say so or not, I'm sure you had something to do with that."

Shaking his head minutely, Changbin leans against Jisung, and only complains half-heartedly when the man slings a sweaty arm around him. "If anyone is responsible for him mellowing out, it's you. Or Hyunjinnie and Chan-hyung." Hell, even Seungmin is doing a better job than Changbin is, and usually the non-human is easily the most unsettling thing within a hundred mile radius. Possibly the most unsettling entity ever, though he's never been given the opportunity to test that theory. "He was carrying around a sword because of me for void’s sake. I'm definitely not helping."

Instead of trying to argue, Jisung just tightens his hold on Changbin, giving him a hug whether he wants it or not. Though he doesn't say it out loud, he absolutely does want the affection. He's felt lost and alone for days now, and his fight with Felix definitely took a toll, whether he expected it to or not. Getting some comfort from someone he'd consider to be like a brother is undeniably nice.

“Y’know, he makes a big show about being snappy, but he seems really peaceful when he practices with that sword of his at night." Tone going thoughtful, like he’s actively remembering the sight, Jisung tips his head back. “Alright, peaceful probably isn't the right word, but he gets a look in his eyes. Like he’s really focused.” The hunter shrugs. “It seems like he's doing okay to me."

Blinking at the revelation, Changbin quietly admits, "I've… never seen him practice."

"Yeah, I’d imagine not." Nodding, Jisung pulls a knowledgeable expression, like he actually knows anything. "He’s doing it while everybody else is asleep, or, when he thinks everyone else is asleep. But you know me, my sleep schedule is crazy, so I've caught him a couple times."

Tentatively, Changbin questions, "Is he any good?"

"On a technical level, yeah. But…" Shrugging, Jisung lets Changbin go and wanders away a couple steps. "To watch him, you’d think he's dancing. It's beautiful."

He's not sure that knowledge changes anything, but it kind of leaves him wanting to watch. If only because that's going to be his partner and he should probably be aware of the fae’s physical capabilities.

The conversation wanders on from there, away from Felix, and away from Felix-related issues. Instead, it goes to Chan, and how the job he's on is going. It’s rare he gets called to anywhere in Africa, considering that’s where Yeonsik’s team is located, but it’s probably fine.

Eventually, the conversation drifts even further than that. To what's for dinner tonight and if there will be anything good on TV. Jisung once again tries to convince Changbin to start watching that one anime he's been talking about for the past four years, and like always, he gets shot down. Not that he seems particularly upset about it.

The topics are light. It gives Changbin a moment to rest.

If nothing else, Seungmin was right. Getting out of the house is good for him. For them both, but Changbin knows this was mostly for his benefit. Functionally, he's known the Felix stuff was getting to him, and he's aware that it hasn't gone away, but at least he's breathing fresh air now. At least he's moving his body and hanging out with someone that doesn’t make him want to pull out his own hair.

He can't help but be reminded of the old days, when it really had just been him, Chan, and Jisung. As well as his old partner, he supposes, but he can’t remember the last time he even visited that particular empty grave. Ashamed by the realization, he pushes it out of his head.

They start to head back after about thirty minutes outside of the dead zone, at least by Changbin's best guess. As always, they take it at a run, once again doing a loop around the base as whatever magic seethes through this area forces their movements to follow the spiral. Thankfully, Seungmin’s magic doesn’t work fast enough to make the distance any further on the return.

Changbin can’t help but wonder how many years it'll take before this run becomes untenable to do.

It's not until they both get back and Changbin is in the process of stripping so he can shower that he remembers the weed Jisung insisted he keep. Admittedly, it’s wilted at this point, the run under the hot sun doing it no favors, but it’s still… alive. Holding it up, examining it in the warm yellow light of his bedroom, Changbin considers throwing it out.

He's not going to give it to Felix, that much he’s already decided. The fae doesn't like him enough to want gifts from him, and it's not even that good a present in the first place. Hell, the plant might not survive until tomorrow, so what's the point? Might as well get rid of it, right? Preferably before he's put any time and energy into it.

Unfortunately, something in him hesitates as he steps in the direction of the trash. 

In the end, he drops the plant into a little mug beside his bed. He'll deal with it later. Right now, he desperately needs a shower.

By the time he and Jisung finish fighting over who gets to shower first before just sharing the damn thing like always, he’s completely lost track of time. Theoretically, he should probably accomplish something today, but he doesn’t know what. His body feels loose, much looser than it's been in a while, and he welcomes the sensation, even if it’s accompanied by sore muscles. Usually, he needs a good job to get this feeling, but recently he’s been subsisting on so little that even this is able to produce the same feeling.

Changbin’s just glad to relax. It definitely helps prepare him for the scene he stumbles into when he steps out of his room and into the main part of the house.

At some point, Felix and Seungmin have migrated into the kitchen.

On its own, Seungmin in the kitchen is already a terrifying prospect. The non-human is notoriously bad with any kitchen appliance smaller than your average microwave. And even then, you're on thin fucking ice. You’d think the reason the kitchen is childproofed is for Hyunjin, who has a regrettable propensity for running with sharp objects, but you’d be wrong. It's entirely for Seungmin’s sake.

His battle with their bullet blender is frankly legendary. If you think it’s impossible to use an appliance with no buttons and a single power cord incorrectly, you’d be wrong. Because somehow, Seungmin has managed. Repeatedly. Chan keeps desperately trying to show him how to do it correctly, but somehow, the lessons never stick.

It’s become a problem.

Which is why, upon finding Seungmin next to the waffle maker, desperately trying to make it work, Changbin’s first emotion is apprehension. And having Felix standing next to him, fluttering his wings while he leans over the non-human’s shoulder and tries to help, doesn't make it any better.

Actually, Changbin is so worried about the impending explosion from their kitchen that it doesn't even hit him that Felix is just… standing there calmly until a couple minutes later. Once it does register however, that becomes the only thing he can focus on.

"I swear, every time I try to use this thing, there are just more buttons." Seungmin's got a dirty spoon in one hand, a canister of cooking spray in the other, and he's looking at the waffle iron like it personally offended him. "I’m telling you, I made waffles last week, there's no way it could've gotten more complicated. Inanimate objects don’t just acquire new parts, that’s not how they work."

Apprehensively, Felix holds up the bowl of batter and offers, "I mean, I could try?"

"No no, I've got this." Shaking his head, Seungmin goes to carefully open the waffle iron, only for it to hiss menacingly at them both. Immediately, the two non-humans leap back and Felix drops into a defensive stance, probably without even realizing it.

It’s honestly bizarre to see. Since he got here, Changbin has seen nothing but growling and anger from Felix, and yet here he is. Acting, for want of a better word, normal.

There’s a part of him that wants to interject, to see what's going on and make sure that nobody burns the kitchen to the ground, but a much larger part of him decides to sit back and just watch. Despite their struggle being comical, seeing the two non-humans get along is a good thing. Seeing Felix look less like he wants to kill someone is undeniably relieving.

"I think they're done," Felix insists, as the waffle iron starts making strange sounds again. “That’s what the light means, I’m sure of it.” He’s still holding the bowl of batter between him and the appliance, almost like a shield. Obviously, it’s not going to do much good if something explodes, but maybe it’s the thought that counts.

Seungmin, meanwhile, is less convinced. "That's what it wants you to think." Squinting at the stainless steel contraption, he pokes at it with the spoon and jumps away when it groans alarmingly. "Do you see this? It's taunting me. Why is it taunting me?"

"It senses weakness," Felix says with utter sincerity, like he completely believes what just came out of his mouth."I think you should open it. Don't let it win."

"You’re right." Reaching forward with the clean end of his spoon, Seungmin lifts the latch of the waffle iron and almost leaps out of his mortal shaped skin when the whole thing starts steaming at them. Felix, meanwhile, lets out a high-pitched sound and crashes backwards into the sink.

Batter goes flying. A spray can hits the opposite wall. Predictably, a cloud of purple energy rises up from around Seungmin, like it’s an involuntary reaction. And through it all the waffle iron continues to hiss at them, at least until Seungmin hisses back.

Immediately, the machine starts to twist and contort in on itself. Quietly, Changbin sighs. Looks like they're going to have to replace another appliance, but that's pretty normal around here. He's not really sure how their meager allotment of supply funds survive all of… Seungmin, but he's not questioning it. He doesn't want to know how Chan keeps the check-books balanced. Likely, the answer is more trouble than it's worth.

As Felix abandons the mixing bowl in favor of scraping waffle batter off of his wings and Seungmin does his best to free the wooden spoon from what’s left of the waffle iron, Changbin watches the fae. Granted, he's been doing that a lot over the past couple weeks, but this feels different. After his conversation with Jisung, he's more settled. His gaze is observant rather than scrutinizing. 

Apparently, after Seungmin's talk with Felix, the fae is more settled as well.

It strikes him, much like it did when he first laid eyes on the man, how pretty he is. With that long, elaborately braided purple hair, and those gossamer cicada-like wings, and of course his multi-colored eyes, he's striking. Beautiful in a precise kind of way.

Hunters, typically, are pretty ordinary looking. They don't really have time to focus on trivial things like their appearance, past basic self-care. It's usually a matter of keeping their hair short enough that it's not in their eyes, and keeping themselves physically fit enough to competently do their job. Most of them are fine, but Changbin would rarely describe any of them as being pretty.

Felix isn't a hunter, so maybe it makes sense for him to buck that trend. Compared to most in this profession, the man is uncommonly gorgeous, slightly delicate and soft around the edges- though Changbin would never make the mistake of calling Felix weak. It's just that he's different. Something unusual in a job where Changbin can predict the sort of person he'll run into.

Even right now, half covered in waffle mix and wielding the dented can of cooking spray like a weapon, he looks intimidatingly beautiful. Though Changbin is willing to say that this fact has to do with, in part, the man’s species. Most fae that lean towards the fairy side of things are just nice to look at in general. If you can get past the insect bits.

Of course, Changbin's thoughts really only linger on Felix’s appearance for a short while. He's more focused on other things. Like the guarded way the fae still moves, even after the waffle iron stops fighting them, and the way he keeps checking his surroundings, like he's waiting for something to jump out at him. Clearly, despite calming down, he's still not entirely comfortable.

Admittedly, that makes sense. Problems like these don't just solve themselves overnight. Or… over an afternoon, even if Seungmin is involved.

Maybe, if he leaves the situation alone for long enough, it’ll fully detangle itself. Felix will figure out what his new normal looks like, and if Changbin is lucky, he might even reconsider being such a bastard to him as well. 

He's about ready to turn away and slink back into his room, so the two non-humans can continue their… bonding exercise, but unfortunately, Jisung chooses that moment to swing into the picture. Coming up behind Changbin with a surprising level of stealth, he slings an arm around the older hunter’s shoulders before calling, "Seungminnie, are you ruining things again?"

"I am not ruining anything, I am simply putting this small kitchen appliance in its place." Turning around, a certain amount of unearthly energy still miasmaing around him, Seungmin's eyes fall on Changbin, and the look locks him in place.

Caught. Considering who he's dealing with, he should've expected that to happen eventually.

Turning as well, a little more slowly than Seungmin, Felix stares over the half wall between the kitchen and living room at the two hunters, his stance shifting as he does. Even without his years of training, Changbin would have recognized the defensive position at once. As it is, he can't help but be slightly impressed by how disciplined it is. 

The man might be covered in batter and regret, but he still has a sense to position his weight properly and adjust his footing, accounting for the limited space he has when he does. Even without a sword, Changbin gets the sense if it came down to a fight, Felix could still give him a run for his money.

Probably shouldn't be thinking like that anymore…

Thankfully, he's given a reprieve from his own head by Jisung releasing him and stepping forward, a smile already stretching his round cheeks. "I'm glad to see you’re out of your room, Felix. How’re you doing?"

Looking between his nearby escape route and Seungmin a couple of times, Felix slowly turns back to Jisung, like he's not exactly sure how to proceed. Clearing his throat, a little pointedly Changbin thinks, Seungmin gives a nod. Almost like he's telling Felix that it's okay.

"I'm… alright." Felix speaks the words haltingly, but they aren’t a growl for once. His voice is still at that impressively low octave, but it’s not aggressive. If anything, it’s surprisingly mellow; nice to listen to.

Hopefully, that’s what he normally sounds like. Changbin could get used to this.

Grinning, like Felix is responding at all has absolutely made his day, Jisung steps forward, happily ambling up to the little half wall Felix stands behind. The moment he reaches it, he sticks out a hand across the gap, the very picture of congeniality. "We didn't really get to introduce ourselves when you first got here." Jisung's voice is bright, open. "I’m Han Jisung. It's nice to meet you."

Hesitating, Felix stares at Jisung's hand like he's trying to figure out if it's going to bite him. After a long, slightly awkward pause, he extends his own hand in return. Despite the fact it's covered in waffle mix, Jisung doesn't hesitate to grab it in a handshake.

"I’m Felix. Lee Felix.” Flushing a slightly darker shade of purple, like it’s occurring to him how silly introductions are at this point, Felix mumbles, “It's… I’m meeting you."

Laughing like this is somehow exactly the response he wanted, Jisung turns to Seungmin. "Now, do you need any help in there, or should I let you guys handle it?"

In the end, the two non-humans grudgingly allow Jisung to help them with the developing kitchen fiasco. Obviously, further waffles are off the table, but they manage to put together some acceptable sandwiches that are basically fit for human consumption. Which is a good thing, because Changbin wasn't ready to explain more than one broken appliance to Chan once he got home.

Just because it wouldn’t be the first time doesn’t mean he wants to make it a habit.

Briefly, Changbin considers doing what Jisung did in trying to strike up a conversation with Felix. But… he feels like he's in a different position. Jisung, for all the fae absolutely mangled his arm the other week, hasn't really fought with Felix. All things considered, he's an entirely non-threatening presence. Changbin on the other hand… 

Sure it hasn't been long, but they've already managed to develop a history. Kind of gets in the way of silly second introductions.

It's fine, he tells himself as he watches the other three interact. I'll… figure it out eventually. At least he doesn't feel nearly so despondent about it anymore, surely everything after that should be simple enough. Maybe though, he should've at least made an attempt to speak to Felix, because Seungmin absolutely makes a point of cornering him over it after dinner.

"You know," Changbin grumbles, as Seungmin appears in his personal space for the second time that day. "You're going to give somebody a heart attack like that."

Scoffing, Seungmin just stares down at Changbin with those unsettling black eyes. "As if your heart would just stop without my permission."

Staring at the wall, a faint grimace passing over his face, Changbin finally shakes his head. "Fair enough, I guess.” Drawing in a deep breath, he makes a point of schooling his expression before turning to face Seungmin entirely. “Is there something I can help you with?"

"I talked to Felix." Seungmin says it very matter-of-factly, with the sort of definitive air of someone who is convinced they have solved the problem they set out to conquer.

"I’d noticed." Sidling away from Seungmin surreptitiously, giving himself room to breathe, Changbin crosses his arms. "What did he say?"

Seungmin's eyes narrow slightly. "He said things." He couldn't possibly be any more vague, but Changbin suspects that’s the point. "Regardless, he should be more… amenable now."

Obviously, Changbin’s noticed. This evening has served as proof positive of that much. While the fae still walks around like he's on eggshells, he’s been walking around. That's an improvement. He's even managed a couple stilted conversations with Jisung, which feels like wonder of all wonders considering how he'd been acting before.

"Thanks," Changbin finally decides, glancing into the living room where Jisung is now happily watching TV. Felix is nowhere to be seen, but for once that doesn’t feel like a bad thing.

"You should talk to him." As always, Seungmin doesn’t attempt to belabor the point. "Now is the time to make progress."

"Right." Progress. Changbin wishes Seungmin could be a little bit more specific, but such things have never been in the non-human’s nature. "Are you sure me talking to him isn’t going to regress the progress you just made?"

"Do you plan on eventually bonding to him or not?"

Not so much seeing as feeling the way Seungmin's eyes dig into his flesh and pierce through all of his squishy bits, Changbin rolls his shoulders. "According to the paperwork, that's the plan."

Seungmin's mouth thins. "Then figure it out." Reaching out, he grabs for one of Changbin's hands and presses a familiar set of lock stones into his palm. Other than the vague warping to the metal, they look largely intact. Which is honestly a miracle. "I’m sure you will be able to smooth over any squabbles you two might've had previously."

Changbin isn’t as sure, but he doesn't dare say it to Seungmin's face. After all, the man has already managed to do the impossible in getting Felix to settle down. All he's asking Changbin to do is the same thing that Chan has been asking from him. To try. To make a genuine effort and reach out. 

Herculean though the task may seem, Changbin wants to believe he's capable.

What had Jisung said earlier? That even before today, Felix has been calming down, even if it is in private. Granted, this isn't going to be the most pleasant conversation he's ever had, but that isn't about to stop him.

Decidedly, he closes his fingers around the lock stones and holds them until the chill Seungmin left behind fades.

Of course, he doesn't instantly go and seek out Felix. Instead, he purposefully gives the fae a little bit of time to unwind alone, under the assumption that he probably wants the space after so much socializing today. Changbin doesn't know him well enough to know if he's an introvert like Jisung or more of an extrovert like Chan, but considering how he's basically forcing himself to be on alert twenty-four/seven, he probably needs a moment to decompress.

At least, that's how Changbin justifies allowing one in the morning to roll around before saying so much as a word to the man.

He ends up watching TV with Seungmin and Jisung for a good portion of that time. Then it’s to the kitchen to help clean up some of that disaster. The rest, he spends in his room, just thinking. As if he hasn’t already done enough of that lately.

Though he still hasn't entirely decided whether or not to get rid of the weed that's sitting in his empty coffee mug, Changbin does half-heartedly give it a little bit of water. If that perks it up, then maybe he won't throw it away. Otherwise, it's going straight in the trash. He doesn't really need dead plants hanging around his already cluttered room.

At some point, he finds himself staring out his bedroom window at the expansive landscape of their base, watching as the last rays of the sun vanish and are replaced by gentle moonlight. Though he's never witnessed the scene Jisung spoke of- Felix practicing his sword play outside the bedroom windows- he can kind of imagine where it’d happen. Just past the little rock garden, where the ground is still level and clear of detritus. It'd be a good place for it, less crowded than the in-house gym they have the basement, definitely a lot less dangerous than doing in the ritual room. Practically covert, if you don't tell anybody ahead of time that you're going outside.

In Felix’s shoes, that's probably where he’d go too.

Ultimately, he stares out that window for an almost uncomfortable length of time. Part of him is waiting, sort of hoping that the fae will appear out there tonight as well. Just so he gets a chance to see. But maybe that's him putting off the inevitable without putting it in as many words. 

At some point, he should probably nut up and figure it out, instead of waiting for Felix to come to him. Unpleasant though it is, it's about time he finally put this tension to bed.

With only a cursory glance at his bedside clock, Changbin heaves himself to his feet and makes his way around the dirty clothes and discarded hunter's gear that litters the floor. Past his disaster of a table, which is nothing but unfinished paperwork and unopened letters from the Bureau, and to his door. The rest of the house is silent right now. He doesn't know if that means Seungmin and Jisung are asleep- both of them have unconventional schedules- but at least he can pretend it’s just him.

He doesn't have to be questioned as to what he's doing.

Slowly, Changbin turns his head and looks to the end of the hall. Felix's door is right where it's always been. Adjacent to the bathroom, right where so many of Changbin's other partners have stayed before.

He's not really sure when he first decided that his partners needed a separate room from him. It’s not exactly conventional, considering they have space they need to conserve. Jisung and Seungmin have bunk beds, even though he's pretty sure they never use them. Chan and Hyunjin have a king sized bed that's mostly dedicated to Hyunjin's nest. Complete with the occasional twig and a disturbing number of feathers. Ultimately, the other pairs in this house share rooms.

Once upon a time, Changbin had been the same way. There had been two narrow beds crammed into his already cramped bedroom, and half the time they ended up shoved up next to each other to make room for everything else that needed to fit into that tiny space. All things considered, that's seen as typical of hunter pairs. A living situation that reflects those wildly complex bonds they share with their non-human partners.

It’s said the closeness helps keep people on the same page. If you dig deep enough into the manuals, it’s actually heavily advised.

But somewhere along the line, Changbin had… stopped putting as much importance on that bond as was traditional. It started somewhere during his second partner. Haeun had been the one to initially request it, citing that as a harpy, she needed more room for her nest, and seeing as Changbin wasn't willing to give up enough space to allow for it, her staying in the guest room would be the acceptable compromise. 

And… he hadn't fought it. It was easier that way.

Looking back on it, maybe he should have. Maybe, he should've shifted his life aside and gone out of his way to accommodate his partner, like he was probably supposed to do. After all, she had only ever been kind to him, understanding of the fact that he was still grieving and probably would be for a long time. This would have been the least he could do for her. But he hadn't even been able to give her that.

Along with all of the other problems that accompanied that particular partnership, Changbin thinks he may have just been a bad friend. Never quite reaching out like everyone else was willing to do for him. Never giving of himself in the way that Chan did for Hyunjin, or how Jisung did for Seungmin.

It’s water under the bridge now, in theory, but it comes back to him at moments like this. Where he wonders if he’s the asshole here and if he’s just too set in his ways to see it. On the other hand, after a good decade of this, he’s not sure he’d be able to change, let alone willing.

Needless to say, it's a lot of things that run through his head as his hand hovers over Felix's door knob. Resolutely though, he pushes them all aside. He needs to at least pretend to focus on this, long enough to actually make some progress with the fae. After he's done, he can go sit in his room and reminisce. 

For all the good it’ll do me.

"I can hear you out there," a deep voice calls from inside the room. One that's becoming weirdly familiar to Changbin's ears as time goes on. "Either knock or go away."

Ducking his head, his mouth twitches. "If you already know I'm here, knocking is redundant."

Felix doesn't explicitly tell him to come in, but he also doesn’t tell him to leave, so Changbin opens the door anyway. Slowly, giving the fae time to yell at him to stop if he really wants to. He swears he can feel it in the room, the tension that's building up just from them being in this kind of proximity, but he doesn't let himself hesitate. He's determined, and he's tired of letting his own hang-ups get in the way of being a good hunter.

Felix is standing in the center of his room, wings half open, stance ready, a guarded look in his narrowed eyes. For a second, Changbin considers stepping fully into the room, but he abandoned the idea rather quickly. Something tells him he doesn't have quite that much leeway yet.

"What are you doing?" Changbin doesn't think that question could sound any more accusing and suspicious. Especially in the tone Felix utters it with.

“Coming to talk." Settling his own posture, purposely keeping it as non-combative as possible, Changbin crosses his arms over his chest. "I heard you talked with Seungmin."

"Yeah, what about it?"

Fighting the urge to sigh, Changbin dips his chin. This isn't how he wanted this to go, he just wanted to talk. He didn't want another fight, he's fucking tired of everything being a fight. But maybe, to a certain extent, he's done this to himself.

"I'm just… glad you finally talked to somebody." Shifting slightly, not looking at Felix's face, Changbin draws in a slow measured breath. "He wouldn't say what you talked about, but it's still good that you did. Opening up is good for you.”

Scoffing under his breath, the fae’s wings flutter slightly before sliding closed across his back. "I'm not looking for your approval." But he still seems to relax slightly, like knowing Changbin genuinely isn't here to argue makes it easier.

Hell, maybe it does. Looking back on it, he tends to jump at any and every chance to turn things into a disagreement. At least when dealing with Felix. Right now, he’s doing the exact opposite. I’m actually trying, his mind offers him, unhelpfully. 

Resolutely not focusing on that, Changbin glances back up at Felix, watches those eyes dart surreptitiously to the door and then to his left, like he's considering making a break for the window. Not fighting, fine, but still ready to flee. As much as it gets under his skin, he doesn’t call the man out on it. Probably, that's going to be something he's dealing with for a while.

Though it takes a certain amount of effort that he didn't know he'd have to expend, Changbin stays where he is. Instead of calling that good enough and leaving, backing up and closing the door and trying again later when Felix isn't quite so obviously jumpy, he takes a slight step back only to sit on the floor of the hallway. Crossing his legs loosely, he stares at Felix expectantly, waiting for him to make a move of his own.

Visibly considering his options, Felix’s teeth go for his bottom lip. They’re slightly sharper than those of a human, but they're not the sharpest things Changbin has ever seen. Neither, he notices, are the man's eyes, which swirl with several muted emotions before he seems to come to a decision of his own. Deliberately, Felix takes two steps back until he's against the far wall of his room. It's only then that he mimics Changbin and sits down.

Defensively, he wraps his arms around his knees. Changbin keeps his back straight, never quite able to loosen his posture.

"How are you settling in?"

Unblinking, Felix stares at him. "Fine." His tone is noncommittal.

Glancing around the man's room, Changbin notes the small pile of stuff that's accumulated in the corner. Very clearly, they’re items that don't belong to Felix. Distantly, he thinks he's able to recall seeing that shirt on Jun at one point. I guess we didn’t clear the place out as well as we meant to.  

"Do you want me to take that stuff out?"

Following his eyes, Felix gives the collection of stuff a long stare before looking back at him. "I don't really care.”

Though he says it in that deep, vaguely monotone voice of his, Changbin thinks he senses something there. Maybe he's not quite able to pull it apart and determine what it means, but it gives him the distinct impression that Felix’s opinion on the leftover belongings of the last non-human who used the room is something other than neutral. 

Which is why he pushes, because it feels like common courtesy. "Just leave it in the hallway. I'll deal with it."

Ducking his head minutely, looking up at Changbin from under his long bangs, the fae’s lips purse. "How long did your last…" He gives a little tilt of his head and grunts. "Whatever the fuck you call it. How long were they here?"

"About a year and a half. A little more." As he says it, Changbin feels the nature of the question snag on a corner of his mind. Most of the time in situations like this, both the non-human and the hunter involved would be given a file before they became partners, just to brief them on the other’s history. He's definitely read Felix's file, and he remembers every sordid detail of it with alarming clarity. What a little of that there was, anyway. To think no one gave Felix the same courtesy before meeting him, well…

Felix is still staring at him, always with those strangely piercing, kaleidoscopic eyes. Almost like he wants to ask a question, but isn't sure if he actually cares enough to voice it. Bitterly, Changbin wonders if Felix wants to ask how long he's going to last, or something to that effect.

Decidedly, he doesn't let it come to that. Instead, he bluntly states, "You probably never got my file, did you?" When all he gets is a vaguely blank look in return, Changbin mutters, "It’d look something like the thing they gave you about Kangsung?"

A glimmer of recognition. At least they followed protocol that much.

For all he respects Junhyung's team, he sincerely hopes they weren't the ones who decided to tranquilize Felix when they put the bond mark on him. Junhyung had said it was the only way it was going on, and Changbin absolutely believes them, but it still leaves a bad taste in his mouth. Which is why he wants to give them the benefit of the doubt and believe it was the Bureau's idea and not their’s. After all, they don’t usually turn convicted felons over to their assigned team until they're properly bonded. Just as a precaution.

All of that aside, it's clear that despite already having gone through one partner, Felix really doesn't know what's going on. Which means it’s up to Changbin to remedy that, bit by bit.

"Since we’re going to be partners eventually, it’s… customary to give you my file. Binder." Changbin grimaces. "Whatever. It's just supposed to let you know who you're working with."

"Why would I care?" When it comes out of Felix's mouth, the question doesn't sound abrasive. If anything, it just sounds tired.

He's got a point. Even if he has calmed down enough to carry out a conversation of sorts, why would he care about Changbin’s past. Sure it’s protocol, but how useful is it really? Their relationship has been nothing but negative so far. In his position, Changbin wouldn't care either. Hell, he's still not sure he does! After all, it's been a negative experience on his end as well. If it were him being handed Felix’s file now, it’d probably end up on his side-table, buried under other paperwork and forgotten about. 

This mess has been a two-way street.

The moment the thought occurs to him, Changbin conjures up Chan’s face in his mind’s eye, and fights to be the better person. Or if not the better person, then at least the bigger one in the situation. The one who's willing to put aside the personal grievances and get shit done.

"Look, I'm not expecting you to care."   Pulling his knees up, mirroring the position Felix is currently sitting in without even really thinking about it, Changbin flatly states, "At the end of the day, it's just a job. I don't know what they've told you. I don't know if the Bureau or Junhyung's team tried to make this out to be more than it was, but–" He spreads his hands wide, until they brush the door frame. "Ultimately, I'm a coworker. If it makes it easier, you don't need to think of me as anything else."

Felix’s expression is doubtful. "Right. Which is why they brand you. Because it’s just a job."

Realizing abruptly that he's never thought about it like that, Changbin takes a moment to stare at the floor. "I’ll be honest, I couldn't tell you about that one. Past with the marks do, I’m not sure whose idea it was to make it so permanent. It’s just…” Eyes drifting back to Felix, he lamely finishes, “One of those things." 

Unconsciously, Felix rubs a hand over his chest. Though there’s a loose shirt in the way, Changbin is easily able to picture the man's old mark from when he saw it in the ritual room. Nasty, inflamed, and painful. He's not exactly sure what emotion passes through him at the memory, but he suspects it's adjacent to sympathy. After all, he's been there. He gets it.

"Fine,” he finally mutters, his jaw tensing. “So it’s not just a job. But would you honestly rather be in prison?"

Eyes darting up in his direction, Felix scowls, the expression pinching his precise face. "Just because Seungmin has explained the situation to me in great detail doesn't mean I like it any better. There are a lot of terrible things I’d rather put up with than being here right now."

Slowly, Changbin raises an eyebrow. Challenging, but trying not to be superior about it.

Shifting his shoulders, Felix looks away again. "But I'd actually lose my mind if I were stuck somewhere like that for fifteen years. Or longer."

It takes Changbin a moment to consider the myriad of reasons why the Cradle would be worse, but he wonders if one of them is because Felix is a fae. It's not often that he takes a non-human’s species into account like this- usually he only considers such things when he’s trying to hunt one- but now that he’s thinking about it, it might make sense. Being away from the sun, away from the outdoors, stuck in a concrete block... They may not live in the most green of areas here, but it's better than nothing.

It’s better than what it could be.

Tentatively, Changbin ventures, "If we become partners, you won't be cooped up in here. Considering my usual schedule, you’ll probably be out more than in. I know you and I will be stuck together, but it won't be all bad.”

Bluntly, Felix states, "You don't like me."

Shrugging, the hunter admits, "You've made it difficult." Pausing for a moment, he shifts before awkwardly adding, "But… I haven't exactly made it easy either."

"Yeah." Felix doesn't specify which part he's agreeing to, but judging based off the expression on his face, it's the closest thing Changbin is going to get to an apology. Likely, the fae knows that this admission of shared guilt is the most he’s going to offer in return.

It’s not much, but after so much of nothing, it’s something.

They sit there in silence for several minutes, just letting the time tick by as the house around them makes its usual soft groaning sounds. At times like this, the base almost seems like it's breathing, like it's just as alive as the rest of them. Listening to it, Changbin wonders why the word he assigns to it is ‘comforting’ rather than upsetting.

Maybe it's the same reason the sound of his gun being cocked soothes him, or seeing the pile of ash Hyunjin leaves behind when he passes is endearing instead of literally anything else.

Whatever the reason, he finds his heartbeat matching that rhythmic creaking of the building, and he feels better than he has in a while.

After void only knows how long, there's a slight buzzing sound as Felix stirs and shakes out his wings. Without making eye-contact, he rolls onto his knees before lifting himself up and padding over to the corner of the room where Jun’s old belongings are being kept. Unceremoniously, he gathers them up, turns, and walks over to Changbin. The hunter half expects to have them dropped on him, but instead, the fae wait for him to get to his feet before handing them over.

For a second, their hands brush, and Felix looks directly at him with brief, yet overwhelming intensity. Changbin does his best to discern what he sees in those multicolored depths, but it's difficult, and eventually he decides it’s probably a losing battle. 

Instead, he takes Felix at his word when he says, "I'll see you tomorrow."

Nodding once, Changbin gets a better hold on the awkward bundle in his arms and pulls away. "Sleep well.”

Felix’s lips twist, but there's no biting retort. He just lets out a breath and turns away, waiting until Changbin has stepped back out into the hallway before softly closing the door, leaving him alone in the dark once more.

It's not a lot, hell, it’s hardly anything. But it's better than what he’d managed before, and Changbin decides to take the win where he can get it.

Tucking Jun’s forgotten belongings under one arm, the hunter steps away and dips his head before heading back towards his room

 

᚛ᚒᚖᚒ᚜

 

Notes:

They... They get along. Just a little bit. They will get along more later.

Chapter 8: Habits

Notes:

If you think you've seen this chapter before, you're right! The chapter that was actually added was chapter three, which is just 11k of world-building. So if you want to read that, go on and give it a look!

Or don't, you can honestly consume this story without it.

Enjoy either way~

᚛ᚒᚖᚒ᚜

 

Eventually, much to Changbin's surprise, things settle.

Honestly, he expected it to take longer. Loath though he is to admit it, he'd been stuck with the very real worry that the drama with Felix wouldn't go away. That his life would continue to be day after day of snapping and snarling and overt glares from the nearest doorway. Miraculously, none of that turns out to be true. 

Like all it took was just a single moment of understanding, life calms down. Felix's mood evens out, the lingering tension subdues, and Seungmin makes a point of commenting that the air has started tasting better. Changbin goes from being constantly alert to being… okay.

It's jarring, but he's unbelievably grateful for the change regardless.

In the days before Chan and Hyunjin return from their most recent job, Changbin feels like life has gone back to normal. Maybe not quite- obviously there's still a new arrival in the house, and things are going to change rapidly once he and Felix are partnered up- but in the interim, he finds routine once again. He works out with Jisung, he prevents Seungmin from blowing up the kitchen, he listens to music in his room, and when no other distraction presents itself, he at least makes a tacit attempt to do his paperwork.

The only difference in his day to day activities is that Felix is slowly integrating into the edges of his life.

One of the first things that Changbin does after he and Felix talk is go and dig up his personal file specifically so he can hand it over to the fae. In theory, he shouldn't have to. But these seem to be extenuating circumstances, and he's forcing himself to go the distance.

There exist at least three copies of this sort of file for every hunter. One is compiled for the Bureau's records, one is supposed to be maintained for the explicit purpose of handing it over to the hunter's partners, and of course, there's one that's kept by the hunter themselves. Admittedly, Changbin doesn't do the best job of maintaining his own files, very few hunters bother, but he does his best to collect what he can before passing it over.

When he first hands the cracked, three-ring binder to the fae, the man looks at him like he's crazy, but Changbin actively makes the decision not to be deterred. They're getting better. The two of them are improving. He's not going to let one weird look set back that progress.

"This is the file I told you about. My information." Pushing the jumbled paperwork into Felix's hands, Changbin waits until he's got a hold on it before pulling away. "You don't have to read all of it if you don't want to, but if you're interested, it's there.”

"If it's that important why don't you just tell me?" While he doesn't try to give the file back, Felix is still looking at Changbin doubtfully. He's good at that suspicious look, with the pinched expression he's got mastered and the sharp features that'd probably be intimidating if Changbin was anyone else. "Since we'll be colleagues."

He likes to use that word, colleagues, like it makes the situation easier to cope with. Honestly, it makes it simpler for Changbin too. 'Colleagues' makes it sound like he's not upending his life for this. It lets him pretend that this partnership will be manageable, maybe even painless. 

Purposefully, he doesn't think about the fifteen-year time tag that comes with it. Permanence, after all, isn't a shackle.

"I wouldn't describe any of it as important.” Shrugging, Changbin folds his arms over his chest and leans back on his heels. “I joined the Academy when I was young, I've had four partners before you. I've worked eliminations since they let me handle a gun. My career has been pretty fucking boring."

Considering this, Felix gives a slight nod before tucking the folder under his arm. "You seem like the boring type."

It's definitely worded as an insult, but Changbin chuckles regardless. As if it's actually a good-natured joke. "Yeah, that's me. Boring. I'm afraid if you're looking for someone more interesting, you can talk to literally anyone else on this team."

Bristling slightly, Felix's mouth opens, but he seems to think better of whatever he'd been about to say and promptly closes it again. Instead, he gives the messy folder a sidelong look before mumbling, “Right. The rest of you.”

That is one thing that Changbin ends up finding amusing about Felix trying to integrate himself into the rest of the team– or more accurately, how they integrate themselves around Felix. It's how shockingly normal the fae seems compared to everyone else there. Granted, that's hardly fair. Most of them have been in this business for nearly two decades; there's no way any of them are going to be anything close to normal. But the difference, at least in Changbin's eyes, is striking.

Felix is baffled by things that Changbin accepted as par for the course years ago. He's becoming increasingly aware and therefore unsettled by the behavior of their deadzone and the house they live within. He attempts to interact with Jisung and Seungmin, but it's clear he doesn't understand either of them. And while Changbin doesn't either, at least he's better at coping with it.

When he does his best to awkwardly apologize to Jisung for almost taking off his arm, the hunter just waves it off and laughs. Which seems to upset Felix in a very specific way. And that's not even mentioning the rest of Jisung's weird habits, which have Felix looking off into the middle distance like he'll be able to find answers there. 

He never does. Changbin would offer to help, but he's not sure there's anything he can do except hope he figures it out.

The culture shock is infinitely worse when it comes to Seungmin. While the fae has definitely developed a healthy respect for the other non-human, he definitely hasn't gotten used to him yet. He jumps when Seungmin appears behind him. His wings shoot out nervously whenever Seungmin smiles. And as for the reality bending, well… Changbin would be lying if he said he was used to that either, but Felix's reactions are still enough to draw a chuckle or two out of him.

While the two of them don't start interacting more just because they've come to an understanding, Changbin does find it easier to be in the man's presence. Not necessarily because he likes the fae, no, it's more like the weird affinity you develop for the stray cat you pulled in out of the rain. Sure, Felix still takes swipes at everyone's ankles, but he's basically harmless and it's amusing to hang back and just watch.

Like when he's given the chance to witness Felix attempting to play cards with Jisung and Seungmin. It's a particularly eventful game, during which Seungmin turns all the cards into approximations of the two of clubs, and somehow Jisung still wins. Felix just ends up sitting perched on the arm of the couch, looking between the cards still in his hand and the other two like he can’t decide if they're insane, or he is.

Part of Changbin is tempted to assure the man that they're usually much worse. At least neither of them are doing anything mind-meltingly unnatural tonight. This is practically tame! But for Felix, who isn't used to any of it, even this much is probably a lot.

Glancing down at his book, a breakdown of basic fae culture that Seungmin none too subtly handed him the other day, he remembers how long it took him to get used to the eccentricities of his team. Thankfully he'd gotten them one at a time, so it'd never been too overwhelming, but Seungmin's always been particularly unsettling. 

Changbin has fond memories of the first time the non-human had appeared in his closet in the middle of the night.

Somehow, he doubts Felix's reaction will be so positive.

Really, the only comfort he has to offer the fae is that nothing anyone will do to him under this roof will be with ill intent. No matter how weird it gets, everyone means well. Even though he's not fond of them yet, more than half of them already adore him. Once Felix gets over himself, he'll fit right in.

Based on the look of horror on his face as he watches Seungmin painstakingly revert the playing cards to their original shape and design under Jisung's gleeful instruction, it might take a while. But that's alright, there was a learning curve for all of them when it came to Seungmin. And perhaps for the rest of the chaos as well.

Things only get more complicated for Felix once Chan and Hyunjin return. Something Changbin finds funny and the fae regards as wholly unfortunate.

Both the phoenix and the other hunter are a lot, in entirely different ways. Hyunjin's version of being too much is overt. The moment he realizes Felix is being slightly more friendly than not at all, he's all over the fae, demanding to get to know him better and insisting they're going to be best friends. He's almost puppyish in how eager he is to shower the man with affection.

He nearly smothers Felix twice, once with feathers and hugs, and the other time with smoke when the fae's struggling to escape surprises him. Even that isn't enough to deter Hyunjin from continuing. Because he's decided they're going to get along great, and Seungmin is more than happy to encourage him to continue, insisting that the friendly contact is good for Felix.

As endearing and admittedly hilarious as Changbin finds the phoenix's antics, he can immediately see how overwhelmed it leaves Felix. For all their quirks, Jisung and Seungmin are a little more reticent in being physically affectionate. Clearly, Hyunjin has no such qualms. Though he sort of wants to just leave them alone and see how it plays out, eventually he decides to intervene, if only to protect Hyunjin from the very real possibility of Felix lashing out again.

"But we're getting along," Hyunjin whispers to Changbin, at a volume he's certain the rest of the room is perfectly capable of hearing. "And I like him."

"Just give him some room to breathe, alright?" Ruffling the phoenix's feathery hair, ignoring how far he has to reach to do it, Changbin insists, "He's not going anywhere, you'll have plenty of time to make friends with him. Just... Let it happen naturally."

The man pouts, but eventually he relents. Not entirely, of course, he still tries to hang off of Felix every now and then, but at least he seems more aware of the panic in the fae's eyes when he does. Hopefully, that reaction will fade with time; that, or Hyunjin will find a slightly different way to be friendly.

Chan, meanwhile, takes Felix's slight thawing out to mean he can be just as nosy and loving as he is with the rest of his team. Though he definitely means well, all it succeeds in doing is confusing the fae, who clearly isn't ready to just open up like that. For the most part, Chan figures that out on his own, but there is one particular moment where he tries to hug Felix on instinct, only for the man to bristle and hiss at him, a bit like a startled felid.

"It's okay, he's just prickly for now," Seungmin reassures their leader, sitting next to him and allowing the older hunter to smother him in a hug instead. "He will get better."

Noticing Felix watching them skittishly from the kitchen, Changbin decidedly points out, loud enough for the fae to hear, "But if he doesn't, that's also fine." Obviously he wants the man to fit in, if only because it'll make life easier if they aren't tiptoeing around one particular person, but he'll survive either way. “Everyone's different, hyung.”

Colleagues, he thinks, as he makes eye contact with Felix. You don't have to be anything more.

Ultimately though, Chan is just happy that Changbin finally managed to figure things out with the fae, even if it did take a while to do. Whether Felix gets along with him is a detail he can handle later; what matters is that his team is doing alright.

He brings it up the day after he gets back, while the two of them are sitting on the front steps of the base and watching the stars. It's a common thing for them to do, whenever they find a moment they're both home. Changbin can trace the habit back to when their team was first formed, when it really was just the two of them. No matter how serious things are, this is a moment to relax and exist together.

He's never aware how much he needs the break until he's being given it. Chan is the kind of presence that's soothing, even when he isn't talking, and while it's easy to take it for granted sometimes, Changbin tries not to. 

Honestly, he could bask in this moment of peace forever, but he knows it won't last. Considering it's their first moment alone since Felix first showed up, Changbin expects Chan to bring the fae up, and in the end, he's not disappointed.

"It's good that you're getting along. It's... relieving." Rubbing absently at what's left of the burn he picked up on that last job, the damage that Hyunjin's healing magic didn't clear up, Chan gives Changbin a beaming, slightly silly smile. "You both look happier. I'm glad." 

Shifting where he sits on the cracked concrete step, Changbin gives a little nod. "I think you've got Seungmin to thank for that. He's the reason we figured it out at all." He snorts. "But you probably already knew that."

"I think you should give yourself more credit." Elbowing him, the corners of Chan's eyes crease proudly. "You really made an effort to figure things out, and it shows."

Ducking his head, Changbin looks off into the gloom of the night. Instinctively, he wants to disagree. After all, he'd been at his wits' end. He doesn't really deserve that praise. But arguing with Chan about it seems pointless and counterproductive, so he doesn't bother. Instead, he quietly mutters, "I'm sorry for stressing you out about it. Didn't mean to cause more problems than we already had."

Clapping him on the back, Chan laughs. "I wasn't worried. I knew you had it handled."

Embarrassed though he is to admit it, that simple conversation calms Changbin. More than anything else really could have. There's something immensely reassuring about the fact that no matter how bad things got, Chan always maintained faith in him. Maybe he doesn't always deserve the man’s complete and utter trust, but it still makes him feel better to have it.

It’s not a cure all, but when he turns in for the night, before sleep finds him and he’s just staring up at the low ceiling in the dark, there’s a fresh seed of determination that takes root in his chest. Little by little, he’s going to figure this out, this time without the constant prodding from Chan. He’s going to take his future into his own hands.

Of course, despite everything going fine back around the base, Changbin feels that itch to get back out of the field. It's less prominent now that home isn't hostile territory, but it's still there. That crawling sensation under his skin, like he's been sitting still for too long; psychological pins and needles.

Regrettably, it's not something he can easily solve. Not until Felix is ready. In place of work, Changbin focuses on maintaining his own mental state, going out on truncated runs more often, and spending time with the rest of his team. If he just gives the fae space, surely he’ll just keep improving. He hopes that day comes sooner rather than later, but at the same time, he's worried.

He and Felix aren't fighting, but they certainly aren’t friends. Most of his time spent interacting with the man is really just them being in the same room. Even that doesn't always work reliably. When they’re in close proximity, there seems to be this natural instinct to snap and be short tempered. Changbin’s fighting it, but sometimes he thinks he's not fighting it hard enough.

If they want to actually be partners, they're going to have to get along. At least, at some level.

Changbin’s experience with bonds souring is complicated. He’s had bad experiences, he’s had them start to turn, but even when it came to his first partner who had died while they were still bound, Chan had broken the magic before it could rot off of his skin. He's heard of what happens when a bond sours though. Obviously, Kangsung's account stands out most sharply in his mind, but he's heard tale of others. Hunters and non-humans that fundamentally can't get along, to the point where the magic holding them together becomes infected and starts to be physically painful.

Obviously, he wants to believe that something similar won’t happen to him and Felix, at least not anymore, but what if he's wrong? The price if he is seems too heavy to casually accept. So he waits, and he hopes that magically everything will sort itself out.

It's a bit like his wishful thinking from before, but this time, there's a distinct flavor to it. The inherent stagnation of not knowing what to do next, and not knowing where to look for answers, until it becomes slightly rancid in the back of your throat.

But Chan seems to think they're doing well, so he focuses on that. If it happens to be uncomfortable on his end, then so be it. That's probably inevitable, they were actively fighting until just recently. With time, they'll recover.

Besides, if there's one thing they have, it's time. Which is a fact he’s aware of in the most disgruntled way possible. Logically, Changbin has gone through several of these transitionary periods, where he's suspended from fieldwork so he can get used to a new partner. But it's never felt this arduous. Never this long.

Distantly, he recalls the beginning of his and Junseong's partnership, and what a struggle that had been. He thinks that from when they first met to when they were assigned their first job together, he was off the field for about a month. Not because their bond had been bad, no, rather it had been them getting Junseong up to snuff and actually ready for the kind of grueling job he’d been signed up for. 

In the moment, it had felt like a long time, but by the same token, it had gone by faster than this. At least there, Changbin had been given something to do. He’d had purpose. Right now, he's kind of just sitting around. Felix and him are talking, but they aren't talking. The two of them aren't fighting, but what comes next?

He knows he's waiting for Chan to tell him that it's time to bond with the fae, but what’s Chan waiting for? Every time Changbin thinks to ask, something stops him. Maybe, it's that fear the his leader will say the one they're waiting on is him, and not Felix at all. Part of him wants to ask, just so he knows, but a much larger piece of him keeps his mouth shut. Like if he never acknowledges it, it’s not a problem at all.

So he keeps his head down and lets the days slip by. Until he seeing the rest of his team go out on another series of jobs without him, leaving him and Felix in the base alone. All Chan gives them is a fully stocked fridge, and a tacit ‘be good’ that he directs at Changbin before stepping out the door and climbing into the transit.

If nothing else, the space seems good for Felix. While he's comfortable with roaming around to a certain extent when everyone is home, there's still something in him that’s prone to hesitation. He still retreats to his room at the slightest provocation, he still sticks to the walls, like he's trying to keep as many of his blind spots covered as possible.

With everyone out of the house, Felix has more room to exist. He actually sits on the furniture in the living room instead of perching himself on the very edges of it. He pokes his head into the ritual room, and when Changbin doesn't stop him, he takes a moment to explore. He thumbs his way through the shared bookshelves that are arrayed beside Chan's desk, and even picks up a book.

Changbin has no proof that he actually reads the book, but it's still a distinct sort of progress. A new level of comfort the fae has achieved. It’s like he's steadily socializing a stray cat, however insulting the comparison would probably be to Felix.

Caught up by the comparison, Changbin actively tries to show Felix where everything is. One afternoon, he makes a point of showing Felix the gym they have in the basement. It's not the fanciest thing in the world, but it's what they've been able to scrounge together, supplemented with what the Bureau is willing to pay for. Changbin will be the first to admit it isn’t pretty, but in his opinion, it does what it needs to keep their skills sharp.

"Is this you telling me I need to work out?" Felix’s tone is practically dripping with suspicion that borders on offense, like he's trying to figure out if Changbin is subtly insulting him without him knowing. As if he believes for a second the hunter wouldn’t just insult him to his face.

"No, but it's never a bad idea." Settling down on one of the well-used benches, Changbin makes a vague gesture to their setup. "This job is taxing, if you treat your body well, it'll treat you well in return when you need it to."

Rolling his eyes, Felix looks away. "I think I'll do fine. I'm in shape."

Critically examining the Fae, Changbin is perfectly willing to admit that Felix’s statement is true. The man is fit, lithe but by no means weak. However– "You can always be doing better. If you need any help, I'd be willing to walk you through stuff. Come up with a routine for you."

"I don't need your help." The none-too-subtle emphasis on the word ‘your’ has Changbin backing down. His instinct is to fight it, but he knows it's counterproductive to do so. Felix will just bristle more.

Instead, he shrugs it off and just says, "It's up to you," before letting the matter drop.

Honestly, Changbin can't decide if the space is good or bad for him. Usually, he doesn't actively seek out solitude because he's got jobs to give him that. Moments where it's just him and his own thoughts and sometimes a partner to take up his brain space. Being stuck in the house like this means he gets to be around his team and most of the time he’d describe that as a good thing.

At the moment however, it also means he gets to be around their unfettered opinions, and this whole situation with Felix has spawned so many of those, both good and bad. Whether he’d be willing to say it aloud or not, he feels a little stifled. As much as he adores the other four people he lives with, he needs a little room to think for himself. To puzzle out the bigger problems and come to his own conclusions.

That being said, there's also something about the dead air that sets him off kilter. Like he's gotten used to the background noise and added feedback, and now that he doesn't have anything, he's floundering.

Felix certainly doesn't help. Though they’re theoretically sharing the same space, and they even occasionally talk to each other, Felix might as well be a ghost with how often Changbin interacts with the man. He's outside when Changbin is inside, he's in the kitchen when Changbin is in his room. His bedroom door remains closed if he’s in there, and he speaks monosyllabically as often as possible.

Strictly speaking, it’s an improvement, but it's not much of an improvement. When he stops to think about it, maybe Changbin does understand why they aren't being bonded yet.

His rhythm is so off but he's actually excited to find out- in a flurry of frazzled texts from Chan- that he and Felix are expecting company for a couple days. Not anybody from their team, no, apparently one of the pairs from the daemonic and occult specialist group needs some help and Chan, as usual, opened the base to them without hesitation. Which means Changbin gets to play host, for at least a couple of days.

It's not uncommon to get visitors from this particular specialist team. Like with the leaders of so many other teams, Chan is friendly with Jaehan, and therefore their teams have a pretty good working relationship. That being said, company is usually someone else’s wheelhouse. If he can help it, Changbin doesn't care about guests one way or another.

In this case, the sight of Junghoon pulling up next to their base with Hangyeom beside him- packed into one of those shitty rental cars the bureau seems to have an infinite number of- is a welcoming one. Even though it requires Changbin spending the rest of the afternoon scouring Chan's filing cabinets, getting dust in his eyes and coughing every few seconds, he prefers people to the infinite silence.

Changbin doesn’t know much about Junghoon, past what he does in his current group. He’s your fairly average hunter, tall, dark-eyed and sharp-tongued. Vaguely, he’s aware that the man had once been part of a different team before being transfered to his current one. What he knows for sure is that he specializes in the occult, and his non-human partner is one of the weirdest Changbin’s ever come across.

Nothing against Hangyeom, of course. According to Jisung, it was a horrific magical accident that did it, but the sentient blood homunculus that’s been left behind is a little unsettling. Alright, maybe he doesn’t have room to judge considering he shares a house with Seungmin, but at least Seungmin looks human. Hangyeom resembles a humanoid about a third of the time. The rest of it is spent as a twisted mass of appendages, teeth, and viscera that Changbin couldn’t have made heads or tails of if he were given years to do so.

Thankfully, the homunculus has chosen to maintain a human form while visiting. Apart from the squirming brown eyes and the gaping mouth on his stomach, he looks normal. With washed out pink hair and the stance of someone who’s been doing this job for years. Once you get over the subtle shifting of his form, he’s not bad.

It really helps that Changbin deals with Seungmin regularly.

“I’m glad you could have us,” Junghoon comments, giving a respectful nod as Changbin opens the door for him and Hangyeom. “Something other than a motel is nice for once.”

“Chan-hyung would have my head if I turned away friends.” Giving the two of them a smile, Changbin notes the hunter’s leathers and the weapons strapped to Junghoon. “Already been out, I see.”

“Rooting out a cult isn’t a one day thing.” Wrinkling his nose, the little blood stars that serve as Hangeyom’s pupils slowly rotate. “We figured we might as well get a start on it.”

Offering Changbin a slight smile of his own, Junghoon admits, “It’ll be nice to actually sleep this jet-lag off before we’re knee deep in it.”

Though their base is generally quite small, only really having room for the people who currently live there, Changbin has discovered that whenever they have guests, it gets a little larger. There will be an extra room or two, sometimes even a second bathroom. The kitchen will widen and the dining room table will gain a couple of seats, just enough for what they need.

He’s always wondered why the modifications never stick around. After all, it’d be nice to have the extra space on a day to day basis, and if you can stretch the place, then why not? Regrettably, Seungmin has opinions on extra space. Including but not limited to the theory that they’ll accumulate junk if given half the chance.

Like most things that involve Seungmin, Changbin gave up arguing a while ago. What he hasn’t given up on is looking wistfully into the nice spare bedroom that pops up specifically for Junghoon and Hangyeom to fill.

No doubt hearing the commotion, Felix pokes his head out of his bedroom door for a moment to see what’s going on. Catching the fae’s look, Changbin simply says, “The guests I mentioned.”

Retreating slightly, his eyes narrowing, Felix’s lips purse. “Right.”

As he expected, Changbin doesn’t really see the man around after that.

Though they definitely just crash that first day, the two visitors aren’t here just to sleep. The reason Jaehan sent them Chan’s way in the first place was because, as the leader of the regional team for this area, their base is a wealth of records that would be a pain to acquire from elsewhere. Any and every non-human or magic related incident that’s happened nearby within the past fifteen years is crammed away somewhere in their base. Whether it’s near Chan’s desk, or somewhere in their crowded basement, they have it. Which makes them the best place to go if you have questions.

Considering Junghoon’s current job involves going in and digging out a particularly pesky blood cult out of one of the nearby cities, this base was an inevitable stop at some point. It just so happens that Chan had insisted they actually stay instead of simply treating the place like a library. 

Again, Changbin isn’t complaining. He’s desperately needed some more talkative company.

"I heard you got a new partner." Junghoon is surprisingly adept at sorting through the piles of paperwork that Chan keeps stuffed in their various cabinets and drawers. Better than Changbin is, which is weird considering he’s the one who lives here. “Another one.”

Looking up from the cardboard box he's been steadily picking through through, Changbin raises a slow eyebrow. "Word travels fast."

“It always does these days.” Glancing his way for a moment, Junghoon's mouth twitches into a strange half smile before he goes back to his digging. "But I guess you don’t really stay in the loop, do you?"

Rolling his shoulders, Changbin sits back on his haunches. He doesn't explicitly say what's that supposed to mean? but it's very clearly implied by the look he gives the other hunter.

Dismissing Changbin’s stare with a cool look, Junghoon easily points out, "What, just because you're willing to jump on any job that someone needs help with doesn't mean you know people. I thought I was just stating the obvious."

Though Changbin grimaces and looks away, the man does have a point. There's definitely a community that's formed around being a hunter, despite how spread out they usually are. District teams talk to regional teams, and regional teams frequently work with specialist teams. If you care enough to reach out, it’s easy to make friends within those groups.

Because the Bureau isn't fond of sharing information, hunters take it upon themselves to spread whatever news they can as far as they can. It's the best system they’ve found, and while Changbin respects its existence, he doesn't really take part in it. Not anymore. Not in a while.

He’d sort of assumed that by not being part of it, his affairs would remain free of it as well. Retrospectively, that was wishful thinking.

Decidedly letting that matter lie, he switches topics back to the original one. "Felix isn’t my partner yet. We still haven't bonded."

"But you’ve already got his lockstones." Nodding to the thin metal bands around Changbin's wrist, Junghoon fixes him with a look of curiosity. "Is it true he’s an everflower?"

"You know you could just ask his new partner instead of interrogating Changbin." That remark comes from Hangyeom, who chooses that moment to slink his way out of the guest bedroom. "I'm sure Felix-ssi will be perfectly happy to answer that question on his own."

Glancing in the direction of the hallway, where Felix is doubtless still holed up in his bedroom, Changbin resist the urge to say, I wouldn't be so sure. Maybe the fae will enjoy hearing somebody giving him the benefit of the doubt for once.

Shrugging the suggestion off, Junghoon looks up at his partner innocently. "It's been a while since I’ve seen a spring fae on the force. I’m pretty sure the last one was-"

"Im Yoona, probably. But I could be missing someone." Settling down into one of the chairs scattered near where they're working, Hangyeom grabs for a box of his own and Changbin tries not to bat too much of an eye at the extra arm the man sprouts to help him sort through its contents. "I doubt it though, so few spring fae bother to join. Void knows why."

"I mean to be fair, Felix didn't join." Holding up his arm, giving the lockstones a pointed shake, Changbin turns back to his own work. "I'm sure as soon as his mandatory community service is done, he’ll be up and out of here."

"Yeah, that's what they all say, but you know how it goes.” Maybe Changbin is imagining it, but there’s something bitter in Junghoon’s tone. "What’s his sentence? You might not even be around to see the end of it, if it's as long as I've heard."

He makes a fair point; Changbin doubts he's going to be doing this job for fifteen more years, at least not as well as he’s doing it now. Still, it’s bizarre to imagine one of his partners outlasting him, considering his usual track record. "They might let them go early on good behavior. It's not unheard of."

“Not if he does well at the job,” Junghoon mutters with a snort. “Void forbid the Bureau let anyone decent slip through their claws.”

"Besides, even if they did, what's to say he won't stick around even after he’s allowed to leave?" While he’s theoretically trying to help with their research, in practice, Hangyeom is spending his time watching them both coolly. His strange eyes make it difficult to read what he’s thinking. "At the point where you're doing this for over a decade, you might as well stick around, right? Taedong’s stuck with us, and his service was up years ago."

"Yeah, but think of Jaehan-hyung's old partner." Gesturing in his partner's direction, Junghoon cranes his neck to look back at Hangyeom. "You've heard the story, he was out of there as soon as possible, and he was around for almost a decade."

Blinking once, Hangyeom looks away. “Statistically, he’s still more likely to stay.”

Resisting the urge to glance back in the direction of Felix's door, Changbin just firmly states, "He's not going to want to stay. The moment we take that collar off of him, he'll be gone."

As the other two fall silent and look at him, Changbin catches the brief second of emotion that passes through Junghoon's eyes. He wonders if Hangyeom's eyes were just a little more expressive, he’d be able to see similar there too. It's pity, he thinks. Hopefully, it's also a little bit of understanding.

If there's ever a team who could relate to his inability to keep partner, it would be Jaehan's team. Every single one of them, through one circumstance or another, used to have a different partner. Hell, most of them used to be on a different team entirely. They understand the struggle, in a much more personal way than a lot of other hunters do. It means that he's willing to take the sympathy from them, and not let it worm under his skin.

"If something happens and this doesn't work out…" Hesitating, Junghoon glances at Hangyeom, like he's going to find the answer to what he should say there, before looking back to Changbin. "He- Felix will be your fifth partner, right?"

“Yeah.” Hearing it out of someone else’s mouth gives it a weight Changbin isn’t used to.

“That’s…” Junghoon blinks rapidly before giving an expansive gesture. “I mean, wow, that’s a few, isn’t it? I don’t know if it’s a record, but you’re getting up there.”

Clicking his tongue- not the one in his more human mouth unfortunately- Hangyeom bluntly states, "He's trying to ask if you're going to go partner-less after this."

After this. Because no one actually believes Changbin is going to be able to keep his partner any longer than he's been able to keep the other ones. His track record is so bad that even hunters on other teams are aware of it.

Admittedly, it’s a fair assertion to make. But that doesn't mean Changbin hates it any less. It's an abrupt reminder of the reputation he has, and how it probably looks to hunters on the outside. It's also another one of those reasons why he pulled away from the the hunter community at large and never bothered to insert himself back into it.

Maybe, back when he was on his second partner and still relatively early in his career, there might’ve been a place for him, but at this point it's a lost cause. He's not prepared to deal with all of the uncomfortable questions he’s bound to get if he starts making friends with strangers. Even this much coming from someone he knows hurts.

Steadily, the mood of the room sours.

"Sorry, that was rude of me, hyung." Dipping his head, Junghoon glances away. "We- I- look, I didn't mean anything by it. Promise."

"No, you're fine." This time, Changbin does glance toward Felix's room, and holds his breath against the upsetting thing that swells in his chest as he does. "I just… don't have a satisfying answer. It's up to the Bureau, right? I can ask one way or another, but they’ll just ignore me."

Obviously, this time it wasn't up to the Bureau. This is been Chan and Junhyung's decision, The Bureau's say in Felix’s transfer had been negligible. But it's one of those things that makes him feel better to say aloud, like he’s somehow absolving himself of responsibility. Not the best tactic, but it's the one he's using.

Has he considered before about putting in for special circumstances and going partner-less for the rest of his time with the NHII? A few times. Recently more than he used to. By the same token, he fully expects the paper pushers to throw that request back in his face. He’s on eliminations, that particular job has a partner explicitly written into the requirements.

Better then to just pretend he has no say in it at all and therefore not have to face the idea that he’s tried and failed.

Catching on to his reticence in talking about the subject, Hangyeom nudges Junghoon with a toe before offering Changbin a small smile. "They’ll handle it how they will. But hopefully they don't need to step in. If you're lucky, it'll all work out with Felix-ssi."

Snorting, Changbin gives a nod in return. "Yeah, that's always the hope."

Junghoon and Hangyeom end up staying there for two days. Digging out the remains of a blood cult gone awry and hopefully preventing another from forming in its place isn’t exactly an easy task. It's one of those slow, thankless jobs the Bureau is so fond of handing out. But that’s what they specialize in, so they don't complain. 

Watching them, it occurs to Changbin why he’ll always be grateful he’s not on a specialist team. Sure, the extra funding would be nice, but the cost on the other side of things is miserable. Recognition only gets you so far. When you’re being run ragged and there’s no one else to turn to if you need advice, it doesn’t count at all.

Eventually, they decide they’ve pulled all the relevant information they’re going to out of the basement, and they bid Changbin goodbye. With hunter friendly lodgings closer to their job, it makes sense to move on, especially since they’ll likely be too deep in work to make the drive back out to the remote base.

"Maybe next time we’ll get to see Felix," Junghoon suggests with a chuckle, as he attempts to juggle the box of files he’s carrying away with him. “If he’s up to it.”

"Yeah, hopefully." The way the man has been dodging any and all human interaction lately is concerning, but Changbin also doesn't blame him. Clearly, he has issues with strangers. And for all Changbin is aware his group is weird, Jaehan's team somehow manages to handily take the cake on that particular front. Anyone would be a little off put if they’re not used to it.

"I'm sure you've heard this before, but being patient and understanding is the first step to a good partnership." Hangyeom, as ever, only manages a very small smile, as though he doesn’t quite remember how to twist his face into anything else. "I'd say the same thing to him, but he's not here."

“I think we understand each other just fine," Changbin reassures the homunculus. "But I'll keep it in mind. Good luck on your hunt."

"Hah, luck." Junghoon rolls his eyes dismissively. "There’s nothing lucky about mucking through rotting flesh. But I'll let you know how it pans out. Pass on our thanks to Chan-hyung for letting us sort through his records. That makes all of this shit a lot easier."

Giving a half hearted grin, Changbin says, "Well, you know what they say. Somethings something regional team, somethings something got to keep records about the region."

“It’s a service to the community,” Junghoon assures Changbin. “Otherwise I’d be going through the local wing of the NHII, and honestly I think I’d rather lick the floor of one of these cultist hideouts.”

“You wouldn’t,” Hangyeom assures his partner, a slight look of concern on his face.

“Some days I wonder.”

It's on a good note that Changbin watches Junghoon and Hangyeom leave, trundling and coughing their way around and around the spiraled road of the dead zone. Unfortunately, that mood doesn't last him long. Far too quickly, he's brought back to the conversation they had the other day, about how Changbin’s partnership with Felix probably won’t last. He feels it weighing on him.

It's strange; he’s long since resigned himself to the same truth, but hearing it from someone else's mouth hits in a way he’s not used to. At least if it's coming from him, he can just say he's being a realist. Or even that he's being a pessimist about it. When Junghoon brings it up, it feels like an inevitability. Like no matter what he does, he's just doomed to fail.

Briefly, he wonders if that's one of the reasons Chan has been putting off the bonding ritual. Like maybe if he gives them just enough downtime, it'll work out, and he won't have to break another one of Changbin's bonds. Logically, he has to know it won’t work like that, but they all have little lies they tell themselves.

He's never really sat down and asked Chan how it feels to see team members come and go because of Changbin's mistakes. Something tells him he might not like the answer.

Those negative thoughts end up cycling in his head for the rest of that day. As he puts to rights the mess in the living room the visiting hunters left behind, and wonders once again where the spare room has vanished off to. He thinks about it through his time down in the gym as well as during dinner, which he, as usual, spends partially alone.

Partially because Felix does sit in the same room as him. Technically. Changbin makes a point of sitting at the dining room table, Felix perches in his favorite corner of the living room with his own food and observes Changbin the entire time. They exchange maybe five words in total, but that's average. He's getting used to it.

Changbin had made a point of calling them colleagues and not friends, but he's already feeling the strange limitations that Felix has attached that word. They aren't working so they don't interact. They don't bother to get to know each other, even though they probably should. Something in Changbin wants to know if Felix ever bothered to open that file; the rest of him expects the fae to bristle if he asks. He doesn't necessarily want to get to know the man at a deep, personal level, but he does want to cut through this barrier that's been put up. 

Somehow, someway, before he’s forced to resign himself to another partnership that has no hope of lasting.

It has him awkwardly standing in the hallway, halfway between his and Felix’s room, as he tries to think of something to say. It's what keeps him up that night, watching his window absently, only sort of knowing what he's waiting for.

Incidentally, he gets his wish, even though he never fully formed it. At some point after midnight, Felix slips out of his own window, sword at his hip and magic faintly glittering around his iridescent wings. Just like Jisung told him, even though this is Changbin's first time ever bothering to watch.

While he's got as much space and time as he could possibly want, the fae certainly doesn't waste a moment in getting to his exercises. Some of them are magical, and those are the ones he focuses on first, spending a moment in what looks like meditation before calling up the power to his arms and hands. It glitters there, bathing the area in a soft, sapphire glow.

Clearly, he doesn't have as much magic as a lot of Changbin's team does. Hyunjin and Chan easily outstrip him, and Seungmin’s weird abilities surely fall under the same umbrella. That being said, he seems adept at utilizing what he does possess. Deep blue sparks that effortlessly rise and dance off of his fingers before weaving seamlessly with his movements.

He expects similar displays to what they’ve seen before. Felix was certainly good at throwing that power with enough force to shatter bone, but instead of leaving craters around the area, he draws the sparks to himself. Until they cloak him like another layer of clothing, until they illuminate his body and refract through the crystalline structure of his fingers.

Considering he’s not well-versed in magic, beyond the basic elemental and runic classes he was forced to suffer through in the Academy, it takes Changbin a bit to understand what he's looking at. But after a while, it becomes clear what Felix mainly uses his magic to do. It seems to entirely be a defensive skill for him.

He weaves the magic into shields; armor that seamlessly covers what parts of his body he deems the most at risk. Even on its own without the swordplay added, it's an impressive display. Changbin find himself watching with a certain amount of wonder, entirely taken with the well-practiced rhythm of it all.

By the time he's pulling out his sword, Changbin feels a certain amount of anticipation welling up in his chest. Other than the few times Felix has physically attacked him, he's never seen the man fight. This may not be fighting, he doesn’t even have a target, but it's as close as he’s going to get until they’re on the field together. Unless he can convince the fae to spar with him- and he's not entirely sure he's ready for that until he knows for certain that Felix won't instinctively go for the kill.

It's plain to see that Felix knows how to use his weapon. It arcs and stabs and occasionally slashes through the night air, catching the light of the fae’s magic as it’s wielded with nothing less than perfect grace. Jisung was right, his moves are like a dance. Fluid and powerful and incredibly, terrifyingly precise.

Just like the fae’s expression, perhaps more so.

As he watches, Changbin understands why Felix acted insulted by his suggestion he work out in the gym. Clearly, what he's doing now is a rigorous exercise of its own. Even though the shadows are stark and the man is in constant motion, Changbin can see the sweat standing out on Felix’s brow; see the way his chest heaves rhythmically with the effort.

Despite the clear exertion, he keeps at it for a while, undaunted by his own limits. Pretty soon, he’s weaving in the magic from before into the dance-like motions. The swiftness of his shield work, matched with the exactness of his swordplay, becomes a pattern almost too complex to keep following.

Distantly, Changbin wonders if they know anyone else who is this good with a sword. Maybe Jisung could give Felix a run for his money, with that fancy magic dagger he's so proud of. Maybe he should ask Chan to find somebody else, from one of the nearby district teams, or even a neighboring regional team. Surely they know someone who could spar with Felix.

Maybe the fae would like that, having someone to compete against. Goodness knows that Changbin never passes up an opportunity to test his own marksmanship against the older and more skilled hunters. Not that there are many more of them left that haven’t retired.

Admittedly, he might be looking for an excuse to watch Felix fight someone. Decidedly, he doesn’t question the motivations behind that desire.

Eventually, as Felix’s routine slows and exercise becomes pacing in wide circles as he cools off, Changbin finally decides to open the window and make his presence known.

“You looked good."

Jerking his head up, hastily wiping the sweat out of his eyes, Felix heaves in a breath and manages, "I didn't ask."

Despite the inherent rudeness of the words, he seems too tired to actually put any bite behind the bark. Picking up on this with a certain level of amusement, Changbin clambers through his window and joins the fae outside in the cool night air.

"How long have you been training with that thing?" Changbin nods to the glittering sword, which is still refracting the light of Felix’s magic around the area.

Looking down at the blade, Felix seems to genuinely consider the question for a moment before finally answering, "Since I was old enough to hold one."

Dredging up what little cultural knowledge he has, Changbin's brows furrow. "That's… Is that an everflower custom?"

Beginning to scowl, Felix takes a second to regard Changbin, like he's trying to decide where the question is coming from. After a moment, however, it seems he passes the test, because the fae’s eyebrows unknit once more. "Our matriarch said it didn't used to be, not for our family. But at this point, yeah, it's common practice."

"If I knew shit about sword fighting, I'd offer to spar with you. As it is… Well." Shrugging, Changbin makes a point of settling himself on the low stone bench that sits behind the base. He swears there's a new panda statue here since the last time he looked. "You should ask Jisung sometime, if that’s something that interests you. Though I don't know if he's quite at your level.”

Blinking at the suggestion, Felix is silent for a moment as he simply dabs the sweat out of his eyes, then re-sheaths his weapon. The sparks of his magic remain around him however, buzzing and shorting out like he doesn't quite have the energy to draw them back into himself. "Maybe when he gets back, I will."

It's such a small thing, but it's still a promise that Felix plans to reach out. Not to him, sure, but to someone. At this point, Changbin will take it.

"I've noticed you hiding the past couple days." Maintaining a non-judgmental tone, Changbin lifts an eyebrow. "Not too fond of strangers then, are you?”

Shifting his weight slightly, briefly moving to a defensive stance before purposefully correcting himself, Felix clears his throat. "No, not really."

"It's fine, you don't have to be, but I warn you in advance-" Changbin gives him a wry half-smile. "Chan-hyung, Jisung and Seungmin are all pretty popular. We end up with a lot of other hunters coming and going through here. It gets practically lively if we’re not careful.”

"I haven't noticed too many people." Slowly, as he talks, Felix edges closer. Not that close, certainly not near enough to sit on the bench with Changbin, but at least close enough to lean against the house. He does so delicately, situating his upper back in such a way that he doesn’t crush his wings beneath him.

Changbin’s never touched fae wings before, but for a second, he wonders what they’re like. If they feel as strange as they look.

As with most intrusive thoughts, he ignores the notion.

Turning his attention back to what Felix said, Changbin thinks about it for a moment before giving a slow nod. "Yeah, it’s been pretty dead lately compared to usual. I think Chan-hyung wanted to give you time to settle in before he let the parade resume."

Stretching the tension out of his arms and shoulders, Felix remarks, "That's nice of him."

"Yeah, you'll find he’s almost always nice." Giving a bark of a laugh, Changbin admits, "More often than not he’s too nice, actually. We're working on it, though. He's getting better. Slowly. Having Seungmin in his ear helps."

Not entirely, of course. Not even the void could drag the kindness out of Bang Chan, but Changbin likes to think his generosity doesn't get taken advantage of quite as much anymore. At least, not by other hunters- the Bureau is another story. The respect they've garnered through the years goes a long way to helping with that. Now if only Chan were a little better about saying no, they'd be golden.

Gazing sidelong at Felix, Changbin is reminded that this is another example of Chan being potentially 'too nice’. He didn’t have to take in the fae; he could have told Junhyung to find someone else. But he didn’t, and now they’re here. Somehow, he doesn't think of the situation as derogatorily as he had before.

As his mind takes him down that line of thought, to the state the fae had been in when he first arrived, Changbin finds a question coming to his lips. It's not one he's felt compelled to ask until now, hell, he's not sure he's even been curious until precisely that moment. But something about the shift in his relationship with Felix drives the words out of his mouth, before he really has the chance to consider them and rethink giving them voice.

"Why did you attack Kangsung?"

Stiffening sightly, Felix’s head twitches in Changbin's direction, but stops himself a heartbeat later. Instead, he keeps his eyes fixed on the horizon, like that makes the question easier to deal with. "Why do you want to know?"

Because I want to understand you. "I'd rather the same thing not happen to me," Changbin says aloud, following Felix's gaze until he's also staring off at the sharp mountains that line the edges of their dead zone. He swears they look like teeth, with the moonlight reflecting off of them.

Gravel crunches as Felix shifts from foot to foot. "It didn't work anyway.” There’s anger in his voice, but it doesn’t seem directed at Changbin. “I don't plan on trying again."

"Alright, but why did you do it in the first place?" Changbin tries not to come across as accusing, but there's only so much he can do. At the end of the day, it's a confrontational question. That being said, he thinks it's one he needs answered, especially before they become partners.

Heaving in a breath, a sound that rattles slightly in Felix's chest, he admits, "I was trying to break the bond. That's what you guys call it, right? Those brands? I wanted it off. I thought I could… carve it off. I couldn’t.”

"Doesn't work like that." Changbin can think of many number of times he sustained an injury to the site of his bond mark. Sometimes small injuries, sometimes ones that should have gouged the thing off entirely. Each time, the brand has reformed, the magic in them too strong to be lost to a simple flesh wound. "You saw how complex the ritual was to undo it, do you really think just stabbing someone is going to be enough?"

"I didn't know one way or another. I thought… I don't know, it doesn't matter." Carefully, Changbin turns his head to look at Felix. At the bitterness imprinted on his features, like carvings in stone. "It turns out I just made it worse. So, if you're worried I'm going to stab you, trust me, it'll be for entirely different reasons."

It's almost a joke. Chuckling like it is one, Changbin dips his head. "Alright, I'll hold you to it. I'm not saying I don't do things that aren't stab worthy, but be careful. Once you have that bond mark on you, anything you do to me is going to hurt you too. So make sure you really mean it.”

Squinting at the horizon, Felix huffs in disgust. “Well, that explains it."

"Oh?"

"Kept getting a weird out of body sensation with that thing on me. Like I was feeling someone else's thoughts.” Giving himself a shake that rattles his wings against each other, Felix flatly states, “I wasn't a fan."

Well, that's one way to put it. Personally, Changbin has always found a certain solace in having somebody else on the other end of his bond mark, something so deep and immutable that even the people who have them don’t entirely understand. Even if he’s bad at articulating his thoughts, somebody else can still see them anyway. Yeah, it’s not mind reading, but there’s still a certain degree of understanding it brings. One that makes having a partner in the first place easier.

That being said, it's easy to see how that sensation might not be comforting for everyone. Especially someone like Felix who seems to value his privacy above all else.

“Unfortunately, all bonds are going to be like that." Pausing, Changbin holds up a finger and corrects himself. “Well, not all bonds are going to be that bad. I know what it's like feeling one of them go sour, the pain is… There's not much like it. But it's always going to be a little invasive."

"And you’re just fine with that, huh?" Staring at Changbin like he thinks the man is crazy, Felix mutters, "You’d just let me into your head like that. Without any way to control what I can see.”

"Not be crass, but I've had a lot of people up in there." Laughing at the expression that crosses Felix's face, Changbin says, "Four previous partners, remember? You could say I'm used to the lack of privacy.”

"I'm not," Felix grumbles.

Though it feels like he's making a potentially impossible promise, Changbin still says, "I'll try to give you as much space as I can. As long as we both stay on the same page, we shouldn't have too much of an issue. Bonded or not, your mind will still be your own. It's just when you get worked up, I'm going to be able to feel it.”

Pulling a distinct ‘when you put it like that’ face, Felix sighs. Resting his head against the dusty siding of their base, he gazes up at the moon above. "Are you sure you won't be the one getting worked up?"

"That depends; do you plan on being an ass all the time?" When all he gets is a glare from the fae, Changbin waves it off. "No, I don't plan on making this any harder than it needs to be." Void knows it’ll probably be hard enough.

"There's really no getting out of this, is there?"

At first, Changbin thinks the question is a sarcastic one. It's only after glancing at Felix’s face that he realizes how serious the man is. Even now, after everything, he's looking for a way out. A way to escape this reality he's found himself in.

His instinct is to tell the man he should've thought of that before he went and killed someone, but Changbin holds his tongue. Sure, if you look at it in a strictly black and white way, the assertion might be true. But some things don't need to be said aloud. And he has a feeling that Felix would be able to come up with a whole host of arguments about why murder isn't a good enough reason for him to be here. 

So instead, he tries for sympathy, however unnatural it feels on his tongue.

"I'm afraid that for the time being, you’re stuck." Thinking about it for a moment, he tacks on the almost apologetic, "And you're stuck with me. For the foreseeable future."

Regarding Changbin for a long, tense moment, Felix’s narrowed eyes finally relax and his expression gentles. "I guess it could be worse."

"Yeah." Changbin grimaces. "It always could be.”

He’s not sure how long the two of them spend out there, staring at the moon and breathing in the cool night air, but it’s long enough that he finally feels lethargy creeping over him. It’s good, though; the companionable silence that grows in the wake of the serious nature of their conversation. Changbin doesn’t know where it came from, but he doesn’t want to be the one to break it.

There’s something about it that feels familiar, though he can’t put his finger on why. Maybe if he sits here long enough, listening to the other man’s soft breathing and the pattern of his own heart beat, he’ll remember.

When they finally decide to turn in for the night, both of them have the sense to just go through the back door. It’s late, they’re tired, and the jig is up, so to speak. Changbin knows Felix is training out here, so there’s no reason to keep sneaking around. As meaningless as it seems, it’s another barrier broken through. 

Changbin can only hope there will be more to follow.

He's not entirely sure what prompts it, but like Chan can sense Changbin and Felix have worked something out, he brings up bonding them the moment he gets back from his most recent job. With one of those beaming smiles that makes it nigh impossible to ask him why he’s decided now is the time for it.

"If either of you don't think you're ready, then we can put it off.” Despite bringing up the possibility, it’s clear from the look on Chan’s face that he doesn’t think it’ll be necessary. “I just think we should probably figure it out, sooner rather than later, y’know?"

From where he sits in his now customary spot in the corner of the living room, Felix huffs and flutters his wings. “And if I say no, you’ll just… wait?”

"Yes, but we won't wait forever." Seungmin is happily nibbling on one of the green tea cakes he brought back from his latest job with Jisung. Void knows where the two of them went, their jobs are always horribly vague and convoluted on paper, but it must've brought them in proximity to a decent convenience store, considering the snacks they’d returned with. "If you truly need more time, then we'll be happy to accommodate you, Felix, but I don't think that's much of an issue anymore, is it?"

Eyes flicking in Changbin's direction, Felix quietly admits, "No, I guess it isn't."

Relaxing visibly, Chan smiles. "That's great then! I guess that just leaves sorting out when we want to do the ritual. As long as you know what's going to be expected of you, of course. I wouldn't want you going into this uninformed twice in a row."

Changbin almost snorts. So he's not the only one who has opinions on the way Felix was bonded to Kangsung. Figures. If he's being honest, his leader probably has more strident views on the whole thing than he does.

"I think I… mostly get the picture." Keeping his eyes fixed on Changbin, Felix states, "You guys just deal with non-human related problems, right?"

“According to the official mission statement of the NHII, we’re here for the ‘securing and furthering of a peaceful existence between humans and non-humans’.” Chan puts heavy air-quotes around the words. “But that’s vague. The five of us are specifically a regional team. Anything that happens in this part of Europe, we at least get a report of, if we’re not actively the ones who handle it. But we also tend to pick up odd jobs here and there. So I hope you’re comfortable with travel.”

“Odd jobs.” Felix’s brow creases. “Like?”

“Anything and everything.” Offering the fae a sweet smile, one full of worrying teeth, Seungmin explains, “Channie here is everyone’s friend, so whenever someone needs a little extra help, we chip in. Whether that be routine jobs there aren’t enough hands for, or puzzling out the really rare cases.”

Dubiously, Felix clarifies, “So you just do everything?”

Feeling more than just the fae’s eyes on him, Changbin realizes he's expected to chime in and he clears his throat accordingly. "Mostly. Seungmin and Jisung do, I don’t. I'm one of those last resort kind of hunters.” Which is a nice way to put he’s a government sanctioned killer, but sue him, he’s the one who has to do it. “I go in when there's no longer a peaceful option.”

“You kill people.”

Ignoring the faces of Chan and Seungmin, Changbin turns to the fae and meets his eyes. Stares into that kaleidoscope of color and doesn’t back down. “Yes.”

Unexpectedly, Felix left out a harsh laugh. "I see why I got transferred here."

Realizing just a second after Chan what Felix is insinuating, Changbin chokes as his leader hurries to wave his hands and backtrack. "No, we're not implying anything, Felix, it just happened to work out this way. We had a spot open, and I'm friends with Junhyung. It's not because– we didn't mean it like- this isn’t…"

"It's not because you killed someone," Jisung calls from the kitchen.

As three out of the four people in the living room stiffen, Seungmin finishes off his little tea cake and cranes his neck to look back at his partner. "Thank you so much for your contribution Jisungie. That's exactly what they were trying to avoid saying."

When Chan cringes visibly, Seungmin turns back to Felix and succinctly says, "Just because the crime you committed previously happens to line up with Changbinnie’s particular duties doesn’t mean we put you there on purpose. It just so happens to work out that way.” 

“Sure,” Felix mutters, tone doubtful.

Seungmin’s smile widens. “Now, I guess you get to find out if killing is actually something you're good at, or just something you're driven to."

That leaves a chilling silence in the room, one so thick Changbin can hardly swallow past it. He doesn't want to make eye-contact with Felix; he's terrified of what he's going to find. Instead, he looks across the couch at Chan and shares in the mildly distressed expression his leader is currently wearing.

Admittedly, they were going to have to explain this part to Felix eventually. It's a conversation that Changbin has had with all of his partners before, in one way or another. Just because most hunters are trained to kill doesn't mean they're actually prepared to. Some people end up having a stomach for it, and for others, it keeps them up at night. Luckily, the Bureau has never assigned anyone to Changbin who failed that particular portion of the psych exam. But Felix is a special case.

Just because he has killed doesn’t mean he can do it again.

Theoretically, if he can't stomach it, if the constant death is too much for him, he might get reassigned anyway. Whether he works well with Changbin or not. Suddenly, Junghoon's predictions are feeling a lot less personal. He might end up with a different partner simply because Felix isn't cut out for the gruesomeness of what they're expected to do.

But Felix is already shaking his head, a strange look on his freckled face. "I can handle it,” he assures them softly, his eyes fixed on the coffee table. “I'll figure it out."

Finding his voice, Chan assures the fae, "We'll get you in to see one of the Bureau’s therapists at some point in the next month or two. Just to make sure you're taking it okay." Judging by the way Felix recoils from the suggestion, he views it as just as much of a punishment as Changbin usually does, but Chan sounds determined. "And if you're ever having any issues, you can tell us. There's always the option open for Changbin and I to switch partners, if you think it's going to be too much for you."

Changbin dearly wishes that Chan would stop bringing up that potential, but he supposes it's not his place to say that. It's not his partnership with Hyunjin, he's not partnered yet to Felix, and Chan is their leader. If he deems it necessary, then maybe it is.

But when Felix looks at him, he wonders if maybe it's becoming a little personal. If it has, it’s happened right under his nose, in those moments where he wasn’t paying attention. Unfortunately, now that he’s aware of it, he doesn’t think he can become unaware again. 

Steadily, Felix says, "I'll be fine with Changbin." Lips pursing, brows furrowing, the man’s multicolored eyes burn straight through to the hunter's soul. "Just tell me when we're doing the ritual."

Though he hadn't realized he was holding his breath, in that moment, Changbin lets it out in a rush.

"If you're think you're ready for it, we could do it tomorrow." Exchanging a look with Chan, Seungmin tilts his head. “I believe all the paperwork has been sorted out already. As far as the Bureau knows, you’re already partners. It’s just up to Chan to finalize it.”

Chan gives Seungmin a nod. "How about this, we’ll do it Friday afternoon. So the two of you will have a couple of days with us around to recuperate. In case you need it. And maybe you can have a chance to prepare in the meantime."

“I’d say that’s a wonderful plan.” Getting to his feet, picking up his empty plate as he does, Seungmin gives Felix one of those beaming, slightly upsetting smiles. "I'm glad you’ve come around the idea, Felix."

Staring up at Seungmin, Felix hunches his shoulders for a moment before quietly muttering, "Yeah."

At this point, Changbin's only hope is that the fae doesn't end up regretting it.

 

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Notes:

I promise the plot will happen eventually. Hopefully the ride is enjoyable in the meantime.

Okay, back to our regularly scheduled programming.

Chapter 9: Tied Down

Notes:

And out of the depths I crawl once more.

Someone commented that they hoped I hadn't abandoned this fic and Idk how to tell you this but I have like five million chaptered fics and adhd that I'm not medicated for anymore.

Enjoy~

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In the Academy, after you’re put into the hunter’s track, one of the first classes you’re required to take is a six week course on bond marks.

Compared to some of the classes foisted upon young trainees, this is one of the simpler ones. It’s short, to the point, and culminates in a single test that consists entirely of true or false questions. By Academy standards, you can practically sleep through the whole thing and still pass.

That being said, it’s still considered important. Mostly because once your average hunter graduates, they will be leaving with a bonded partner. 

The class covers a variety of basic topics. How bond marks work, their history, their side effects, what happens when they fail, and what to expect during the ritual itself. If someone is interested, there are more advanced courses that teach runic and draconic magic users how to create the marks themselves, but those classes are notorious for how difficult they are and how few students ever bother with them. After all, most hunters don’t need to know more than the basics.

Vaguely, Changbin still remembers the histories they were taught. Originally, bond marks were created along with the founding of the Bureau. Directly after the fae war, as a method of cementing the validity of the NHII, some very dedicated- or particularly insane- scientists enlisted the help of some well-known dragon scholars and found a way to combine draconic and runic magic into synthetic dragon’s blood, which in turn was used to design the first bond marks. A lot of the trial and error of the process has naturally been scrubbed from the records, but it’s generally agreed that the success of the bonds was what lead to hunter teams as they’re set up now.

At their core, bond marks are simply soul bonds that allow humans to more easily keep up with and understand their non-human counterparts. That’s how the Bureau presents them, that’s their practical use. It’s an incredibly invasive practice, considering it’s a non-negotiable job requirement, but at no point does anyone try to argue otherwise. The class is a prerequisite for a reason. Informed consent is necessary.

But that doesn’t mean myths haven’t sprung up around bond marks anyway.

More than the class itself, Changbin vividly recalls how romanticized bond marks always were. It wasn’t a tool, it was a way of life. It was being tied to another person so intrinsically that living without them would leave you feeling empty and incomplete. Among hunters, it was held at the same level as civilians might hold marriage. Above it even, especially for the people who’d had the same partner for decades.

When the Bureau said ‘soul bond’, they meant it. This wasn’t some silly spirit tie, magic that held the power and physical impact of a pair of friendship bracelets. This was something that would forever change you. Down to your core. With that in mind, is it any wonder people clung to rumor and mysticism over cold, impersonal science.

It doesn’t help that the process of how the Academy decided who was to be partnered to is shrouded in mystery. No one actually knows what criteria are used to determine if a non-human and a human are going to work well together. Often times, complete strangers are thrown together mere days before being handed actual field work, something that, by rights, should end in disaster. Yet time and time again, it works. To the point where people regard a Bureau assigned partnership as close to being handed a soulmate as it was possible to come.

Yes, bonding people was a means to an end, but it fulfilled a far deeper purpose. In a world where the norm was death and violence and blood, bond marks gave hunters something- someone- to cling to. Another person to trust, to value, to love. Even if you never ended up in a romantic relationship with your partner, there would always be a connection there. One good thing to fall back on, when nothing else remained.

In his weaker moments, Changbin remembers his first partnership. He remembers the small shoe closet of a room he’d been shoved into. He remembers ripped jeans and small, twitching bear ears buried beneath dark brown hair. He remembers telling himself over and over again, as the ritual was set up and explained to both of them, that he didn’t need a partner. That he was a strong enough hunter in his own right.

He remembers a warm thumb, pressed against the incomplete brand of the bond mark.

He remembers wondering he’d ever survived without that feeling of perfect completeness that had come from having his mind and soul woven together with someone else.

Except eventually, his partner had died, and he’d come face to face with exactly what those Bureau-mandated bond marks were actually good for.

Pain. Emptiness. A steady fracturing of the self, until it becomes difficult to understand what remains.

It’s ironic, he thinks, because at no point did that class he took on bond marks ever lie to him. Sure, the teachers and the other students and hunter culture itself had told him something else, but the Bureau never did. They’d told him these marks were a tool made to serve a purpose, and ultimately, that’s what they were. Everything else, the romanticism and emotional weight, it was just fluff. Things hunters convinced themselves of, to help soften the reality of the situation.

Because once you understand that a partner wasn’t some perfect soulmate, everything else sort of crumbles away with it. You become increasingly aware of how messy the process of being bonded is, and how brutal the side effects could be.

They’re necessary, sure, but they aren’t pleasant. They hurt! They get infected and sour if you and your partner have a big enough fight. They strip away a certain amount of personal autonomy, privacy, and individuality that you would otherwise have. And yes, if you have too many of them, they eat away at your very core, in a way you can start to feel after the third or forth mark.

Though he’s about to go through his fifth bonding ritual, Changbin clearly remembers all the ones that have come before. He remembers each partner, he remembers the individual sensations of being bonded to each one. Most importantly, he remembers the pieces of himself he lost with each successive scar that had been left behind.

His second bond had been Haeun. She’d been a fresh graduate when they’d been partnered up, and because of that, Changbin had done his best to put away his own bitterness and bad experiences for her sake. He could believe in the idea this would be some good and perfect bond, he could give those comforting half-truths another chance.

When they’d been bonded, the ritual had felt like lying in a warm, summer field, while he slowly rotted away and returned to the soil. It had been painful and yet hadn’t come close to approaching how intense his first bonding ritual had been. Likewise, that partnership had always been shaky. Functional, yes, but imperfect and distinctly unfulfilling.

Haeun had never connected with Changbin like his first partner did. She tried, void she’d tried, and he tried to, in the ways he could, but there’d always been something missing. On the field, they’d been coordinated and efficient, and Changbin’s eyesight was never better, but off the field it’d felt like a bad relationship you couldn’t quite bring yourself to end. He cared about her, and she’d loved him, but after four long years, she’d quietly put in her partner-change request, and he’d watched her walk out their door.

Changbin’s third partner was Junseong, and that ritual had been agonizing in a way none of the others had been. Since the blink dog had been an enforced partner, the Bureau had insisted they handle the ritual instead of letting Chan do it, and Changbin has nightmares of that tiny room. Of Junseong chained to his chair by his neck, and the eyes of two additional Bureau officials overseeing the process.

What he remembers most strongly about that ritual had been the hunger. The violent craving to tear into and consume everyone in sight. The desperate need for blood between his teeth and flesh under his fingernails. Thankfully he’d been strong enough to resist the urge, but it’d been a close thing, and for days afterward, he’d felt the memories of those desires, aching in his teeth and howling in his blood.

All things considered, Junseong had been a decent partner. He’d been a fae, forced into what amounted to servitude by the Bureau, and he hadn’t wanted to be bonded any more than Changbin. Which was good, because at that point, any sentimental weight of these marks had been lost to him. It was a means to an end, nothing more. If Junseong thought of it in the same way, that just made his life easier.

That being said, Changbin’s critically aware of just how much of a blow it was to have Junseong blatantly call him suicidal before demanding to be put on a different team after two years of working together. Sure, Haeun had implied it, she’d delicately stepped around the issue and tried to encourage better habits and a more healthy mindset, but she’d never said it. Junseong had.

The day he left had been the day Changbin realized he was going to keep doing this job until it finally killed him.

Jun was Changbin’s fourth partner, and out of all of them, it’d been exactly what he wanted it to be and the worst thing imaginable. From the outset, the selkie had made it clear that this was a strictly professional relationship, and he intended to keep it that way, and Changbin had readily agreed. There hadn’t been enough of him left for anything else. 

Being bonded to the selkie had felt like drowning. Like being dropped in a body of water and losing any sense of what was up or down. Of swimming towards freedom only to realize you’d been diving deeper, and of lungs screaming for air. When he’d finally surfaced, there’d been an impassible gap between Changbin and his own partner, and he’d told himself that was… fine. At the end of the day, it was just a job. The more impersonal, the better.

Changbin had promised anyone who would listen that he and Jun were going to work out, because he’d done this too many damn times and maybe it not being anything deeper would let it last longer. If they were never romantically involved, if they were hardly anything more than coworkers, then there wouldn’t be anything to fuck up. They were fine on the field, they were friendly at home. Jun slept in his own room, and Changbin kept his own issues to himself. Where they belonged.

Inevitably, those things he’d told himself he’d valued most about that bond had been the very same problems that’d ruined it.

There’d been a gulf between the two of them, a lack of knowledge about each other that’d led to accident after accident when out on more difficult jobs. Jun had never given Changbin more than the bare minimum, and in return, Changbin was never able to completely trust the selkie with his life. They’d constantly butted heads, again and again, and never made steps to compromise. They’d hashed and rehashed the same tired arguments, until Changbin could repeat every point against his partner in his sleep.

When their bond started to sour, Changbin had simply ignored it. He’d told himself it’d get better, that it wasn’t that serious, that he’d tough it out and grit his teeth through the pain. This was just part of the job. If he couldn’t handle this, then what business did he have being a hunter.

Then Jun had lashed out, and Chan had severed the infected bond while Changbin screamed into the belt Jisung had given him to bite, and cursed himself for every time he’d tried to convince himself he could make a partner work.

What had been left after Jun walked out- well- Changbin’s not entirely sure anymore. Not him, that’s for certain. Not the man who’d sat across from a gangly, sharp-toothed ursid and given up part of his soul freely, like it was the most natural thing imaginable.

Most of that history is, these days, consigned to rest in the dusty files deep within the Bureau’s archives, and in the poorly kept binder on his old bookshelf. Certainly Changbin couldn’t tell you the entire story, despite living every second of it himself. What he can say is that the idea of going through it again is enough to have him hunched over the bathroom sink, as exhausted resignation sinks needles into his throat and stomach.

Staring into the smudged mirror, Changbin drags a thumb over one of his old marks. Haeun’s. It’s faded considerably over the years. The once vivid spiral and the faint mark of a harpy claw has since become faint and silvery against his tanned skin. After the magic it had once contained had been nullified, what had once looked like a brand has become nothing but a scar.

That, and a bad memory.

Sighing, his hand falls back to his side and he meets his own eyes. He’s supposed to be headed to the ritual room right now. Today is the day, after all. It’s been one month since Felix first showed up on their doorstep, and finally, the two of them are going to be bonded. If nothing else, it’s a notable occasion.

Changbin isn’t sure if he’s supposed to be excited for it or not. On one hand, he’s glad they’re getting it over with. His issues with the fae aside, he’s gotten sick of this weird holding pattern he’s been stuck in, where he’s not allowed to leave the house for jobs because there’s someone else he’s got to think about. Finally being allowed to have his freedom back is going to be a welcome change.

On the other hand, he’s been through this four times before. There’s really nothing inherently special in a bonding ritual, once you get past the mysticism and tradition. At this point, it’s just another part of the job.

He’s trying to put on a good face about it. It may not be his first rodeo, but for Felix, who’d been sedated during his first bonding ritual, this is a much bigger deal. However little the fae is likely to outwardly acknowledge it, Changbin knows how dramatic it can be, how unsettling if you have no frame of reference for it.

As the older, more experienced person here, it’s his job to make this as painless for Felix as possible. He wants to do that, at least in some respect, but as he stands here, almost transfixed by the sight of his own old bond marks, Changbin feels woefully unprepared. Who is he to say shit about what makes a good partnership versus a bad one? What does he know that Chan or Jisung wouldn’t be able to say a thousand times better?

Alright, maybe Jisung is a fluke. It’s rare for your first partnership to be that flawless, while also lasting this long. Seungmin is an outlier and probably shouldn’t be counted. That being said, Chan certainly isn’t. He had two partners before Hyunjin, before Changbin even met the man. Both of them had ended up dissolving for one reason or another before he came across the phoenix. Surely he’s better able to explain the differences between what works and what doesn’t.

The only partnerships Changbin has had have either been abject failures or his first partnership, which had obviously ended poorly in an entirely different way. Experienced though he might be, all of it has been negative, and that isn’t going to help much.

Actually, at this point he thinks it just guarantees him more failure. 

Sighing, he loosens his grip on the collar of his jacket before looking away from the mirror. Staring at it and thinking about the past isn’t going to change anything. All it’s going to do is waste time and make him feel worse than he already does. Considering the fact he’s got at least two other people waiting on him right now, he’s not inclined to drag this out.

Shrugging the beaten up leather jacket over his shoulders so at least he’ll have something to wear, Changbin puts a hand on the door knob and steps out.

He’s so lost in thought that he almost runs headlong into Hyunjin, who’s hovering outside the bathroom waiting for him.

“Are you okay?” The phoenix is shifting from one clawed foot to the other, his tail feathers fluttering awkwardly as he does. Meeting the man’s eyes, finding himself having to crane his neck slightly to do so, Changbin reaches up and gives the tuft of feathers that poke past Hyunjin’s collar a little, comforting pat.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Shaking his head, Changbin lets his eyes drift down the hallway, where he vaguely hears Chan’s voice coming from the ritual room. “Just… spaced out, I think.” That’s one way to put it. Probably not the most accurate way, but it’s definitely the least revealing.

Telling Hyunjin what’s actually going on in his head would just worry the phoenix, and he’d rather not do that if he can help it.

Reaching out, Hyunjin’s warm fingers press against one of Changbin’s old bond marks. Tipping his head to the side, the phoenix searches the hunter’s face, like he’s reaching inside his brain to see what’s there. Steadily, Changbin holds the gaze, unable to bring himself to actually verbalize any of his thoughts.

There’s a gentle pressure in his head, and the phoenix’s mouth drops into a little frown.

“You’re worried.” Hyunjin states, as he flattens his palm against Changbin’s most recent bond mark, the one that’d once connected him to Jun.

Drawing in a breath under the other’s hand, Changbin shifts his weight slightly before giving a half-hearted shrug. “It’s hard to be nervous when you already know how it’s going to turn out.”

Instantly, Hyunjin’s eyebrows pinch together. “Don’t say that.” Leaning closer, his bottom lip stuck out in a pout as he does, he insists, “This is going to go well. You and Felix are going to work out.”

Saying it doesn’t make it true. If it did, Haeun would have worked. Or Junseong after that. Hell, if wishes were enough to shape reality, then Changbin would still be with his first partner, and this would never have to be an issue in the first place. But words are easy, and life is variable at best.

Putting his hand over the phoenix’s, Changbin mutters, “I’m going to try.”

Visibly brightening at this, Hyunjin offers him a big smile that only grows as he ruffles Changbin’s hair with his other hand. “Felix will try too.” Utter confidence laces his words, like just by saying it he can make it so. “Between the two of you, I don’t think it can fail. And we’ll all be with you every step of the way.”

Swallowing back his disagreements, Changbin just tightens his grip on Hyunjin’s hand and squeezes until the man starts giggling. The sound goes a long way to lifting his spirits, and even though he knows the jump in his mood is temporary, he takes it. Void knows he’ll have enough problems soon enough, what with a fresh bond mark to deal with and all of that.

The living room is empty when he walks into it, surprisingly silent considering how chaotic this place can be. He’d expected at least the rest of the team to be waiting for him- it’s not like any of them are out on jobs right now. Instead, he finds himself alone, with only the short walk from the hall to the ritual room door between him and what’s to come. Closing his eyes, Changbin listens for the murmured voices of Jisung or Seungmin elsewhere in the house, but even then, all he hears is Chan.

With how insistent Seungmin had been that everyone be home for this, he supposed he’d anticipated a bigger audience. Then again, maybe he prefers this. Easier for him to just get it over with if there’s no one there to make it more complicated than it needs to be.

As he draws closer to the ritual room, Hyunjin trailing behind him, Changbin’s able to make sense of the rambling dialog Chan’s keeping up. He’s talking to Felix, that much is clear, even though the fae doesn’t seem to be adding to the conversation. Changbin thinks he hears a mention of rune patterns, that and several phrases in draconic that trip off the older hunter’s tongue like he doesn’t realize he’s switched languages. Just filling the air then, huh.

He’s probably nervous too at some level. Changbin supposes one of them has to be.

Pulling away from him, Hyunjin makes a soft trilling noise in the back of his throat. “I should go,” he hums.

“Not going to watch?” Changbin asks, surprised but not about to argue it.

“No.” The phoenix blinks big eyes at him. “Not this time.”

“Right.” Changbin’s lips thin as Hyunjin steps back. “Okay.”

Drawing a deep breath, he puts a hand on the door knob.

“Changbin.”

The back of his neck prickles.

Turning, Changbin finds Seungmin leaning against the wall beside Chan’s desk, stance relaxed and hands stuffed into the pockets of his yellow coat. He swears the man hadn’t been there a moment before, but isn’t that how it always is. When their eyes meet, he gets a small smile, one with thankfully fewer teeth than usual.

“Seungmin.” He keeps his voice low.

He half expects Seungmin to say something cryptic and threatening to him. One of his little warnings, or brief interrogations that always seem to be tailor-made to get under his skin. After all, Changbin is about to be bonded to Felix. Surely there’s some bit of incomprehensible ‘wisdom’ this non-human has for him. Just like he always seems to in tense situations.

Seungmin’s eyes are certainly sharp enough for it.

Unexpectedly, the man’s smile widens, and his black eyes crease softly. “I’ll be out with Jisung and Hyunjin.” Seungmin beckons to the phoenix as he says it, and Hyunjin steps over to happily drape himself over the other non-human’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, I already let Chan know.”

Oh. Well, that works too.

He’s off the wall and out of the room with Hyunjin in tow before Changbin is able to entirely regain his balance.

Blinking, shaking himself, he turns to the door of the ritual room. Before anything else can stop him, Changbin twists the knob and steps inside.

“Bin! I was about to go make sure you didn’t get lost.”

Chan looks harried, like he didn’t get a wink of sleep the night before. His curly hair is sticking up in every direction and there’s a glob of the gray dye he uses for most of his runes smeared across one cheek. Still, he grins at Changbin, like he’s genuinely glad to see him.

Recognizing the notes of forced gusto in Chan’s voice, Changbin manages a smile for his leader. “Yeah, sorry it took me so long. Didn’t mean to keep either of you waiting.”

“Oh that’s fine, I had prep work anyway.” Waving him off, Chan turns back to his workstation so he can at least attempt to rearrange the mess he’s made. “I’ve caught Felix up on most of the details in the meantime.”

At the mention of the fae, Changbin turns his attention to the other occupant of the room. The one who’s currently staring him down and has been since the moment he poked his head in through the door.

Unlike when he’d had his old bond broken, this time the man has elected to take the chair offered to him. Though he’s not lounging in it, there’s a certain confidence to how he sits; legs spread, chin up, wings half open and draped behind him. Not relaxed, but not nearly as on-edge as he could be. Like Changbin, Felix also has his shirt off, displaying the still-fresh scar of his old mark that mars an otherwise unblemished chest. Focusing on it, he notes how much better it looks even after just a month.

Soured bonds are always ugly. At least this one had been cut before the magic truly festered.

As Felix notices he has Changbin’s attention, he makes a point of giving him a slow, calculated once-over. Without thinking, Changbin squares his shoulders. He’s not sure what the fae is looking for, but he has nothing to hide. Not about this. There’s no point anyway, he’s about to be bonded to this man in a moment.

“Ready, Bin?” Remembering the other person in the room, Changbin turns to look at Chan, who's got his carefully labeled pot of ink in one hand and an old paint brush in the other. His hands are covered in dozens of temporary runes, to the point where it’s difficult to distinguish where one ends and the next begins.

“Yeah.” Though it’s difficult, Changbin tries to loosen up. This isn’t a bad thing, you want this. Or rather, he’d prefer this to the alternatives. “Is Felix?”

“As far as I know.” Felix’s tone is sharp, an unspoken I’m in the room, you can talk to me behind the words. “Last time I was unconscious, though, so my experience is limited.”

If nothing else, the reminder of the Bureau’s carelessness gives Changbin something other than his own discomfort to focus on.

“We’ve got a strict ‘no tranquilizers’ policy in this house,” Chan informs Felix firmly. “There are always better ways to handle things than pumping you full of drugs. I don’t like forcefully removing your awareness from you like that.”

Felix just shrugs. “For all I knew it was normal. Your organization made it sound like it was.”

Chan winces. “No, no it’s not.” Clearly trying to swallow the genuine look of disgust down before it has a chance to fully form, the man delicately attempts to edge his way around the matter. “You see, the Bureau makes a lot of decisions, and we… we don’t really- well-”

“Some of us have principles,” Changbin supplies for the older hunter. “They don’t.” Ignoring the way Chan wilts slightly at his wording, he takes a step towards Felix and grabs for the chair across for him. “From now on you get to be awake for any rituals you’re part of. For better or for worse.”

The fae narrows his eyes. “For better.”

“Glad we’re on the same page.” Taking a seat, Changbin regards Felix for a moment longer before moving his chair closer. When the man tenses up, he pauses again, his lips pursing. “I’m going to have to be close enough to touch you.”

Wings twitching, Felix mutters, “That was mentioned.”

“Relax,” Chan advises, drawing closer as well. “Really, I mean it when I say it makes it easier. It’s going to be uncomfortable either way, but there are ways to make it more bearable.”

Felix doesn’t relax, unsurprisingly, but he doesn’t react further when Changbin scoots up next to him. Only once once the man is in arm’s reach does he settle down himself and shrug his jacket off of his shoulders. There’s never been a draft in this particular room, but he still feels his skin prickle slightly, likely under the fae’s attention. Eying Felix sidelong, Changbin watches as the man blatantly takes a moment to study his chest.

Instinctively, he braces himself for the kinds of questions he considers almost inevitable. He’s had them come from everyone at this point, from the Bureau’s doctors to paper-pushers to other hunters to his past couple of partners. There’s something about this ever-growing line of old bond marks that seems to evoke morbid fascination in just about anyone who sees them.

But if Felix has anything to say, he doesn’t voice it. Somehow, that lack of commentary settles Changbin.

“You know what’s going to happen, right?” he confirms, focusing on a point somewhere just past the fae’s knees.

“More or less.” If Felix is uncertain, it’s hidden behind a thick layer of stubbornness. “I’ve been bonded before.”

“Once we start, there’s no stopping.” Changbin lifts his gaze until he meets Felix’s eyes. “If you are uncertain, now is the time to say something. When we don’t have a volatile ritual going on.”

The fae narrows his eyes. “Do you doubt me?” 

No, Changbin thinks, as he meets that steely resolve with a level look of his own. But it’s easier to do this than try to offer sympathy or concern. Besides, he’s not sure he’d have it in him in the first place. 

“This isn’t doubt,” he says aloud, turning back to face the rest of the room. “This is a warning. You didn’t get the courtesy last time.”

“Unfortunately, I can’t say being awake will necessarily be easier.” As Chan settles down on his knees in front of the two of them, he gives Felix an apologetic smile. “Like I’ve said, there are a lot of side-effects and most of them are unpleasant. Just know you’re not going through it alone. If you need anything, you can reach out to me, or…”

“You can talk to me,” Changbin finishes, trying to make the stiff offer sound as sincere as possible.

“I know.” Crossing his arms before promptly forcing himself to uncross them, Felix grumbles, “Can we just get this over with?” 

Exchanging a look with Chan, Changbin purses his lips for a second before giving a nod. “If he’s ready then I am.”

Arranging his various supplies around him, which mostly just amounts to an extra paint brush and a tub of that nasty healing salve Jaehan’s team gave them, Chan focuses on Changbin. “You first?” he guesses, like he’s not already uncapping the bottle of violant ink and drawing up magic into the runes on his hands. It simmers under the gray for a moment before consuming the temporary sigils in a dark red glow.

Considering it’s generally agreed upon going first is worse, Changbin just huffs and scoots forward in his chair. “Yeah, might as well.” He knows what he’s going into, he’s better equipped to handle it. It only makes sense this way. Planting his hands on his thighs, Changbin straightens and tips his head back, giving Chan as much access to his chest as possible.

Swirling his paintbrush in the shimmering, dark ink, Chan lifts an eyebrow. “Any preference.”

Changbin’s smile is thin. “Just don’t overlap with-”

“The first one,” Chan finishes. “I know.”

Though Changbin knows better than to brace himself for this, he still tenses up slightly as the brush meets his skin. The heat is instant, the pain follows after it a second later. Burning, burrowing, sinking past his flesh into his muscles, then straight down to the organs and bone underneath. And it doesn’t stop there. Though there shouldn’t be anywhere else for it to go, the pain seems to pass an immaterial barrier and cross into his thoughts, briefly consuming his sense of self and touching his very soul.

It’s in his blood, whatever magic it is. With every heartbeat, the fiery sensation spreads, until he can feel it in his hair follicles and beneath his nail beds.

When he gasps for a breath, he can hear Chan’s murmured spell, the words familiar and yet alien. They weave around Changbin, steadily deconstructing him and reducing him to his composite parts. He’s still sitting in the same chair, that brush is still dragging over his skin, but it’s fracturing. Each thing he’s experiencing is becoming nearly impossible to understand in connection to one another.

Beside him, a sharp inhale drags some piece of his consciousness back to him. Changbin isn’t sure if he actually turns his head or if he just imagines he does, but whatever he does brings him face to face with Felix, and suddenly the entire ritual seems to narrow. Abruptly, all he can see is the other man as the magic swimming through his body ties Changbin down, binds him with the fae. 

Despite the impossibility of it all, he forces himself to inhale and exhale steadily, grounding himself in his own body. 

In those seconds that feel like hours, Felix seems to glow. Not just with the glitter of his own magic, but with something else. A light that shines through his eyes and pale lavender skin. It’s almost blinding to look at, but Changbin can’t look away; the powerful, unavoidable pull of the bonding ritual won’t let him. So instead, all he does is stare, as Chan’s magic begins to stitch him back up, now with an empty space in his being made specifically for the fae.

Impossibly, Changbin hovers there, his mind caught in a state of freefall as it struggles to find an answer to the unspoken question now woven into his being.

As Chan’s quiet chanting ends, the paintbrush is pulled away from Changbin’s chest. Beckoning for Felix, eyes still glowing red, the man states, “Your hand.”

“I-” Looking visibly unbalanced, Felix hesitates. “Where should I-”

Oh fuck that- Pulling through the haze over his mind just for a second, Changbin reaches out and grabs the fae’s wrist. Unceremoniously yanking him closer, he takes the man’s thumb and presses it against the top of the pulsing, incomplete bond mark, finally sealing off the ritual.

As Felix touches him, Changbin’s grasp on his sense of self scrambles. For a moment he is the fae, or at least so deeply mired in the man’s emotions that it’s difficult to separate what is and isn’t himself. He’s struck with the sensation of falling, plummeting through the air without anything to catch him or anything to slow him down. There’s the sensation that he should be able to catch himself, to stop this, to spread wings and take to the sky, but he can’t.

Instead, he keeps falling, further and further until he’s lost any sense of gravity, of substance, of shape.

Briefly, he gets it, the anger, the desperation, and the layers upon layers of resentment. He understands the burning hatred caged within the fae, and the undeniable desire to turn it on anything and everything he comes into contact with. He understands what’s been lost. He sees the void it’s left behind. When Felix’s hand is against his chest, the damage that’s been done is tangible, and he feels it with every beat of his own heart.

Then the magic settles, and he’s breathing through his own lungs again, sitting there entirely frozen for a second as everything in his system calms down.

Felix is still staring at him, unmoving. The man’s wrist remains tightly clamped in Changbin’s hand, and it’s only now that he notices the fae’s bones grinding together under semi-transparent skin.

With a start, he lets Felix go.

Drawing back his hand slowly, the fae draws in a sharp breath before blinking quickly. Sitting back in his own chair, Changbin looks down at the fresh brand on his chest and prods at it absently. When it flares up in pain once more, he hisses through his teeth and decidedly leaves it be.

“Are you okay?” Chan asks, the question directed at Felix.

Clearly still trying to shake himself out of his daze, Felix stares at the older hunter before muttering, “Unconsciousness was easier.”

Chuckling wryly, Chan repositions himself in front of the fae. “It’s not over yet, unfortunately. Do you need a moment to collect yourself first?”

When Felix glances sideways at him, Changbin just tips his head back and stares at him. Sure, there’s nothing stopping them from taking a breather, but something tells him the fae won’t take the offer. Especially not now.

As he expected, the man just flutters his wings and meets Changbin with a stare of his own. “No, I’m fine.” Squaring his shoulders, shifting his attention to Chan, Felix firmly says, “Do whatever it is you have to do.”

Taking the fae at his word, Chan dips his brush in the ink once more before gently advising, “Breathe in.” The moment Felix does as he’s bid and inhales, Chan lifts the brush and places it against the man’s skin.

Considering he already went through his part of the bonding ritual, Changbin can feel what’s happening to Felix to a certain degree. He can feel that slicing heat, the return of that strange, soul deep pain that spreads to your very core. Thankfully, it’s never as bad the second time, only a reflection of going through the spell himself, but it still hurts enough to make him wince and clench his hands into fists.

Felix, on the other hand, stiffens at once as all the blood drains from his face. His wings shimmer faintly with fae magic, his jaw clenches and unclenches, and his eyes fix on the opposite wall, wide but unseeing. Though Chan is quick with his casting, Changbin knows it feels like a lifetime when you’re in it. Even just those second-hand sensations are enough to have the seconds dragging, and sweat starting to bead at his brow once more.

In his opinion, watching is always the hardest part. Because at this point he’s connected to the fae, and with only a handful of minutes between the rituals, he’s still having trouble picking apart what are his emotions and which are Felix’s. Changbin’s instincts demand he make the pain stop, they scream at him to do something about this because as much as it’s another person, it’s also him. His training and common sense, however, trumps that feeling.

This is how it works. No matter how invasive and painful, you physically can’t die from a bonding ritual. Felix will live, he just needs to give Chan time.

Still, it’s difficult. The delicate spiral of violent ink seems to take so long to draw, and in the meantime he feels like he’s being tossed around inside his own body. There’s someone else in there again with him now, and currently a piece of himself is being transplanted into Felix. The level of disconnect is a difficult thing to overcome.

As he watches, Changbin finds the urge to reach out for the fae rise up in him. He fights it back- he doubts Felix would want to be touched right now any more than he has to be- but it’s still there, lingering in the back of his throat. A weird side effect of the bond that desires to be closer to its magical equivalent. 

He’s heard it described in any number of ways during his career. Magnetic has always been the analogy he finds most apt.

With practiced precision, Chan begins to trace out the final piece of the spell, the casing for Changbin’s contribution to the ritual. He’s not exactly sure what it is about a fingerprint that seals the whole thing together, but he’s never bothered to question it. Theoretically, the signature sigil already woven into the mark is what actually binds them together, everything else should be superfluous. 

It’s not. He knows full well that without this final piece of the puzzle, the rest of the ritual entirely falls apart.

Sensing the end of the spell, Changbin’s already shifting forward before Chan has stopped chanting. He doesn’t even give Felix the chance to come out of the haze of the magic, the moment the paint brush is out of the way, he’s lifting his hand to the glowing mark on the fae’s chest and pressing his thumb firmly against it.

Jolting forward, Felix’s eyes roll and lock onto Changbin. Blindly flailing out for purchase, he grabs for the hunter’s knee to steady himself. The other hand comes up and grabs for his arm, nails instantly biting into Changbin’s skin. There’s a momentary spark of discomfort as Felix’s hold tightens to the point of drawing blood, but in a second, it’s lost to the sheer weight of everything else.

No doubt unconsciously, Felix’s magic surges up and snakes over Changbin’s hand. It doesn’t get very far, hardly passing his wrist, but he can still feel it sinking into his palm, less like it’s attacking him and more like it’s becoming part of him. It’s an odd juxtaposition against the pain and the intense doubling of every sensation he’s feeling, but he’d almost call it a welcome one. The fae’s magic is warm, entirely removed from the cold and sharp way Felix carries himself.

Something leaves Changbin in that moment. He’s never really had magic in his life, but he thinks this is what it feels like, that intangible rush that flows through his body into Felix. As it passes, that sensation of having too much in his body fades with it.

It may not all be him, but at least he only has to contain what’s able to fit.

Abruptly, Felix heaves in a breath under his hand. Changbin is able to feel the burn in his own lungs like it’s his own, just as well as he’s able to feel the man’s chest flex beneath his thumb. Slowly, he starts to pull back, only for the fae to tighten the grip on his arm that much more. Obediently, Changbin stops trying to get away. Instead, he scoots his chair a little closer and leans in. 

“You’re okay,” he hums, the words meant just for the two of them. “It’s over now.” Normally, he wouldn’t try to reach out to the fae in quite this way, but he accepts it as a side effect of the bond mark. If it helps, then it helps. This might as well be Felix’s first bonding ritual, and no matter how you look at them, they’re traumatic.

Closing his eyes at last, the fae relaxes his hold on Changbin by increments. Content to just let him pull himself together in his own time, Changbin lifts his finger off of the bond mark and shifts to sit in a more comfortable position. Chan, meanwhile, just caps his ink once more and absently wipes his brush off on his jeans. That’s going to be a pain to get out, but it won’t be the first time someone in this house has accidentally ruined a piece of clothing because of careless magic use.

Stirring again, Felix clears his throat. Pulling his attention back to the fae, Changbin waits until the man has entirely let him go before attempting to give him some space. He’s still out of it enough that he’s having trouble with words, but at least he’s breathing properly again. At least he’s able to sit up and delicately withdraw his hand from the hunter’s knee.

Noticing the change, Chan gives them both a wide smile. “You’re bonded now, congratulations.”

“Thanks, hyung,” Changbin mutters, his voice threatening to give up on him the moment he tries to put any volume behind it. Everything is still a little wobbly right now. There’s a very real part of his brain that expected Felix’s voice to come out of his mouth when he spoke, but he shoves those weird thoughts down. With time, they will fade.

Sluggishly, Felix lifts his head and opens his eyes. Uncontrolled magic briefly pulses through them before simmering down, allowing their usual kaleidoscope of blues and greens and purples to shine through. “We’re bonded,” he echoes, his voice rough and somehow deeper than usual.

“Yep,” Chan confirms cheerfully. “That went smoother than I expected, you did good, Felix. I know it’s a lot right now, but as I’m sure you already know, it’ll all settle into place eventually.”

Grimacing doubtfully, the fae hunches for a second before gingerly crossing his arms over his chest. The moment he brushes up against the bond mark, however, he’s wincing and dropping them again. Sympathetically, Changbin’s own mark throbs and he resists the urge to rub at it. For the next few days at least, it’s going to be an open wound. Touching in general is ill-advised. 

“Now, I know I’m piling on more when this has already been a lot, but as you probably remember, you need to take care of the mark for a while.” Reaching down, Chan picks up the little tub of ointment that’s been sitting beside his knee this entire time. “This stuff is a lot stronger than what the Bureau usually prescribes, but trust me, it works. It’ll heal the mark up in a few days instead of a few weeks.”

When Changbin instinctively wrinkles his nose, Chan gives him a look. “I don’t want to hear it.”

“It smells awful,” he grumbles. For all you can gripe about how useless the Bureau’s anti-magical infection creams are, at least they don’t smell like anything. The stuff Jaehan sends them, on the other hand, is powerful enough to knock you on your ass if you aren’t ready for it. Changbin literally never is.

Unfortunately for him, Chan is already uncapping the tin and offering it to Felix. Taking a quick sniff of it himself, the fae recoils and pulls a face before glaring at the ointment like it personally offended him.

“Well that’s one way to try and cover up the sea holly,” he mutters, attempting to nudge the tin away from himself with two fingers.

“Even Felix agrees,” Changbin huffs, staring at Chan.

“I don’t care.” Chan’s expectant smile is unflagging. “You will use it because I’m not taking you all the way to Bryansk when it gets infected. It’s just a bad smell, you’ll live.”

Staring at the older hunter like he’s trying to judge if this is actually a command he needs to obey, Felix finally relents. Gingerly dragging two fingers through the oily goop, he stares disgustedly at it for several seconds, flatly says, “They could have used beethistle,” before grudgingly applying it to his bond mark.

Ignoring the phantom sensation of fingers on his own chest, Changbin mutters several choice things about Junghoon’s apothecary skills under his breath before taking some ointment of his own. It burns going on, the same way mint burns your tongue when it’s too strong, but he powers through it. If nothing else, Chan is right about the fact this stuff works. It might smell like rosemary, thyme and cat urine, but it does a good job at sealing up the burns left behind by the violant. Something he’ll be thankful for in a day or two, even if he’s not thrilled right now.

Wiping his hand off on his pants once he’s done, Changbin watches as Chan goes about cleaning up the remnants of the ritual. “Thanks,” he tells the man’s broad back, trying to sound at least moderately sincere as he does. 

“I’m happy to do it.” Turning, Chan glances between the two of them with eyes that are only now returning to their usual deep brown. “I’m leaving more of that salve by your door, Felix. Bin, I know you still have some from the last couple times.”

“Yeah it’s… somewhere.” Changbin makes a point of trying to lose it after every time he’s bonded. He has yet to make it past the collective power of Chan and Seungmin, however. “Don’t worry, I’ll use it.”

“Good.” Smiling warmly, Chan backs up towards the door. “Obviously you’re welcome to stay here as long as you need. I’m… going to try and find Jinnie and the others. Make sure Jisung hasn’t dragged them all somewhere stupid.” The door is nearly silent as it latches behind him, leaving Changbin and Felix alone together at last.

 Though he could and maybe should get up and at least retire to his room, Changbin stays where he is. Partially, it’s because he’s not sure if his legs are going to work right if he tries to move. Bonding hasn’t gotten much easier over the years, and he’s not sure his fine motor control will function this soon after. But mostly, Changbin stays so can keep an eye on his new partner.

Since putting on the ointment, Felix has remained motionless. Though his back is straight, it’s obvious that he’s frozen himself like that so he can recover without it being obvious that’s what he’s doing. There’s still discomfort in the man’s expression, and tension in his jaw and neck, but Changbin has to hand it to him, he handled the ritual exceptionally. Better than a lot of seasoned hunters manage. Better than he’d expected from the fae.

Still, he knows that doesn’t make it pleasant. Though he’d usually be inclined to let Felix figure it out himself unless otherwise asked, Changbin figures he should at least try and reach out.

“Are you okay?”

If possible, Felix stiffens further. “Why?”

Unsure what to do with the palpable distrust that flares out from the fae, Changbin gives a tiny shrug. “Because I’ve been through this before and it sucks.”

Blinking, Felix rustles his wings and stares at the floor. “He- Chan- he lied.”

Confused, Changbin’s brows furrow. “Did he?”

“He said it gets better after the ritual.” Felix’s small hands clench into fists at his sides. “It hasn’t. It isn’t. It won’t.”

Somehow, it feels like a heavier accusation to throw at the situation than it actually is. Logically, Changbin has no right or place to tell the fae if something is getting better or worse, but maybe he’s got more of a stake in the game now and that’s why it lands wrong. That’s why he feels his hackles rise, like Felix’s words were a personal attack against him. 

“It has with every one of my other partnerships,” he responds, as evenly as possible. “It’ll take time, but it will get better.”

“It can’t get better, I-” Gritting his teeth, Felix stares at Changbin with a wild expression, one that with their new marks he thinks he understands a little too well. “You’re inside my head.”

The distress in that statement is abundantly evident. Right, that was what he was most worried about, wasn’t it. And now that it’s come to pass, there’s very little anyone can do to fix it. 

I’m the problem, Changbin realizes, with a certain amount of bitter humor. Just like always.

“You want space,” he guesses, already getting to his feet.

“I-” Watching him, lips parted and eyes wide, Felix visibly hesitates. Like he’s actually having to make a choice. In the end though, what he settles on saying feels inevitable. 

“Yeah,” the fae mumbles, wetting his lips and looking away. “Space.”

Nodding, Changbin grabs for his jacket and tosses it back around his shoulders. “Well, you know where to find me.”

In the meantime, he supposes, as he slips out of the ritual room. Maybe he will try to find that awful ointment. At least it’ll theoretically make all of this go that much faster.

 

᚛ᚒᚖᚒ᚜

Chapter 10: Here We Stand, Alone

Notes:

I heard the namesake of this story live at When We Were Young and aggressively spat out a chapter.

Enjoy~

᚛ᚒᚖᚒ᚜

 

Considering how many times he’s been through it before, Changbin is prepared for the morning after the bonding ritual. But that definitely isn’t him suggesting he’s looking forward to it.

He distinctly remembers that this process wasn’t terrible with his first partner. That goes without saying, though, right? Everything with that ursid had been easier, in that sort of way that always made him think this was the person he was meant to be bonded to. Forever. Even in those first few days after the ritual, when everything had been confusing and strange, it hadn’t been bad. It’d just been uncomfortable.

Obviously though, that partnership hadn’t lasted, and he’d eventually had to repeat the process all over again. There have been three other partners after that- now four- and he can confidently say that every single one of them has been getting worse.

He wakes up the day after being bonded to Felix, sweaty, sore, and about to throw up. Thankfully, he makes it to his trashcan. Less gracefully, he bruises both of his knees when he collapses next to it. Though he definitely didn’t eat much yesterday, Changbin swears he’s heaving over the dented metal can for at least ten minutes. By the time his stomach has stopped twisting and even the bile has been expelled from his body, he feels worse than before he threw up. If that’s possible.

Not all bonding rituals end like this, mind you. The first couple are relatively painless. Sure, there are side effects, but at least your body doesn’t try to outright reject the damn process. Changbin discovered after mark three, however, that it can and will get worse. He expects if he has to go through this again, he’ll end up bedridden for days.

Eventually, it might just kill him.

There’s something about a bonding ritual that just fucks with your biology. Which makes sense. You’re going in there and carving up your very soul with magic so old that, if it weren’t so well documented, everyone would’ve long since forgotten how it worked. There’s bound to be some kind of physical, mental, and even spiritual reaction to a process like this.

Changbin has had more than his fair share of all of it, and he likes to think the physical side effects are a special kind of miserable.

Insult to injury, and all that.

Most of the side effects the Academy likes to highlight when they’re talking about the subject involve the long term mental issues you’re likely to come up against after being bonded. Those, in their mind, are the important ones to mention up front. After all, those are the ones that might make you think you’re going crazy if you don’t know about them ahead of time. In Changbin’s opinion, they’re merely an annoyance at this point. The true suffering comes from the bonding sickness.

What, one might ask, is bonding sickness? Well, it’s a colloquial term typically only used by hunters, one that’s been passed down generation after generation between them. They use it to encompass the extensive list of side effects he’s currently experiencing. The splitting headaches, the sore joints, the muscle pains, the high fever. The puking too, though not everybody goes through that one. Changbin, it turns out, is just unlucky.

Not that he needed a weird magical illness to tell him that.

The list of symptoms goes on; though the further you get into it, the harder the effects are to explain. There is the phantom limb pain, of course, like you’re temporarily stuck in the wrong body. Then there are the aches from injuries you’ve never sustained. Another frustrating one is the sensation that you can never catch your breath because somebody else is using the oxygen you’re drawing in. It’s all very uncomfortable, and with every successive bonding ritual you suffer through, it gets worse.

Changbin would like to think he’s used to it at this point. Not that familiarity has done him any good.

Because even if you are used to it, like he is, it’s still a bitch to go through. For a bit there, he genuinely feels like he’s dying. Almost like there’s a parasite that’s growing inside of him, and there’s nothing to do but rip it out or wait until it climbs out of him itself.

There’s not something inside of him, and the joining of two different people like this doesn’t result in anything actually parasitic. It just takes some time to get used to. It requires giving the body an opportunity to recognize that this new presence isn’t actually a malicious one.

In the meantime, though, it sucks. And no amount of fore-knowledge really prepares you for it.

Another thing Changbin has discovered is that every single bout of bonding sickness he’s gone through so far has been different. No two bonding rituals are exactly the same, so therefore the side effects always differ slightly. Even when it comes to the physical ones. Over the past couple partners he’s come to think of them as new and delightfully personalized kinds of hell, and describing it after the fact never does it justice.

This time, the things that stand out to Changbin the most are the phantom wing sensations and the distinct ache in his bones where his body keeps trying to tell him magic should be. 

He spends a good two hours after he wakes up lying immobile in bed, desperately trying to get his back muscles to stop painfully spasming. His body insists that he should have something there, that there should be entire groups of tendons and bone to move that he just doesn’t have. Changbin has never lost a limb personally, but he can only imagine that this is what the aftermath feels like. 

Needless to say, it’s awful.

The missing magic, at least, is something he’s felt before and is familiar with. That was a symptom with his last partner too, and Junseong… technically. Junseong hadn’t really had enough magic of his own to upset Changbin’s brain after the ritual, but Jun had. The selkie had a powerful, innate grasp of elemental magic that had practically seeped out of his very pores. Standing next to him had been like standing by the seashore some days. And the bonding sickness that resulted from it… oh, the bonding sickness…

This is comparable to what that had been. Felix, though clearly not the type of fae to rely solely on magic, has quite a bit more than Changbin ever will or could ever possibly hope to harness. Now that there’s a little piece of the fae inside of him, he feels like he’s going through withdrawal symptoms. Like there’s supposed to be something here, something that helps him function, something that makes his heart beat in his chest, and suddenly it’s gone. No amount of telling himself that it was never there to begin with helps.

As has become his habit with that first day of bonding sickness, Changbin chooses to just stay in his room and not bother anybody with it. Sure, it’s hellish. His room reeks of sweat and puke, his body can’t decide whether he’s burning up or freezing cold, and he’s in too much pain to do anything about it. But it’s fine, it’s nothing he hasn’t been through before. As bad as it is, nobody’s ever died from a bonding ritual.

He’ll live.

That first day, the only time Changbin leaves his room is to use the restroom. Other than that, he just lays in bed and suffers. He does think to put more ointment on his bond mark, but even that much is a struggle. Everything hurts; he’d honestly rather leave it and hope that it figures itself out. Unfortunately, he knows from experience that if he doesn’t take care of it, Chan will pin him down and do it for him. So he waits for a moment where the fever isn’t so bad, then pulls out the tin of ointment and rubs some into his shiny new brand.

The overwhelming smell of rosemary and thyme is enough to make him puke again. He hasn’t eaten today so all it brings up is bile and stomach acid. And when that’s gone, he just dry heaves over his trashcan until his body doesn’t have the energy to keep him upright anymore.

Thankfully, the rest of his team is well aware of how Changbin likes to handle this particular unpleasantry. All of them, even Jisung, are perfectly happy to leave him alone. Seungmin doesn’t try to talk to him, Chan doesn’t check on him. He’s vaguely aware that Hyunjin spends at least an hour outside his bedroom door, mostly because the phoenix’s psychic magic is obvious and his mental sensitivity is quite high at the moment. But even he eventually leaves without trying to say anything to Changbin.

Probably for the best. He’s not really fit for company.

Naturally, the effects of the new bond mark aren’t just physical. No, as literally everyone is so quick to mention, they’re also mental. Arguably, most of it is mental, it’s just that the physical manifestations of the mental issues are more immediately obvious.

That doubled feeling of everything he touches and everything he does remains for that whole first day. Changbin swears that he knows exactly what Felix is doing at all times, just based on the weird phantom sensations on his skin alone. And that’s not all, though that alone would have been bad enough. He’s also hyper in tune with the fae’s emotions, whether either of them want him to be or not.

Felix described it as Changbin being in his head, and maybe that’s accurate in some ways, but he’s never seen it like that. It’s not like he can read the man’s thoughts; he has no idea what Felix is actively thinking about any of the stuff he’s currently going through. He can, however, accurately experience every single feeling Felix has about it.

Unsurprisingly, it’s a slew of negativity across the board. There’s a lot of anger there, but Changbin had honestly expected that. It’s a constant burn in the back of his mind and throat, and if he weren’t otherwise indisposed, he’d probably want to do something about it. Anything, even if it was just running laps around the house in the hopes of blowing off some steam. But there are other things there in Felix’s emotions too, stuff that he wasn’t necessarily prepared for.

Felix is scared.

No, maybe that’s the wrong way to put it. He’s terrified. He’s confused. He feels cornered; trapped by something he’s not big enough to fight. Somehow, Changbin just assumed that because they talked over their issues and came to some sort of understanding with each other that Felix was doing okay. Or at least, not as bad as he had been. This… 

This proves otherwise.

Or maybe it’s the side effects of the fresh bond mark doing this to him and nothing else. Maybe he’ll be fine once this ordeal is over.

But Changbin doesn’t know that; can’t be sure of it no matter how many times he repeats it to himself, and because Felix is afraid, he’s afraid. It manifests for him in the form of paranoia. He locks his doors, he locks his windows. He even locks his closet door. There’s no reason for him to; nobody in this house is going to hurt him and even if they wanted to, these piddly little defenses aren’t going to stop them. Changbin knows all of that, but he needs to do something to protect himself and currently, he’s in no physical capacity to fend off an attack if it were to come.

Despite this powerful, dare he say it, otherworldly connection he currently has to Felix, there’s nothing Changbin can do to help. He can’t soothe the fae, he can’t talk him down from any of the awful things he’s feeling. He doesn’t think Felix would be interested in him trying, even if he was in a position to do so. All Changbin can really do is sit there. Turn all of the negativity over in his mind again and again, like he’s going to get anything different from the spiral of insanity.

He ends up caught in this horrible feedback loop for that entire first night. There’s no sleep, save for maybe an hour where he fitfully passes out because he literally can’t keep his eyes open anymore. Other than that, it’s spent staring at the ceiling or at the wall or out the window. He feels utterly trapped in his own body, trapped by the bond mark on his chest, and he can’t do anything about it. If it weren’t for the fact that he’s been through this before, he’d genuinely think he was losing his mind.

But… eventually the second day comes, and with it, some modicum of relief follows.

His fever abates, his sense of touch stops doubling. His mind becomes more his own. Changbin unlocks the doors and stops trying to reach out for magic he doesn’t have. This, you could say, is a marked improvement.

Of course, now he gets to deal with the other part of the bonding ritual. The less obvious, much more insipid side effects.

Changbin has been through this enough times to recognize when it comes upon him, that crushing, inescapable depression that closes in on him after one of these rituals. There’s really no reason for it, nothing to point to as a cause or blame for its arrival. No, it’s just that as the intense awareness of another person starts to fade, with it comes a sense of inescapable loss that can’t be described by words.

In Changbin’s opinion, it’s a bizarre mental reaction. He hates that period of genuinely not knowing whose mind or body he’s currently occupying. Everybody does. There’s no reason for him to miss it. And he doesn’t miss it, not consciously; not logically. But something else in him does , a terrible piece of his subconscious that he can’t change and can’t reason with.

The result is this horrible, seemingly endless lethargy. He doesn’t want to do anything. He doesn’t want to talk to anybody. He can’t bring himself to leave his room. Unlike that first day, where he hid himself away because he didn’t want anybody to see him like that, now, Changbin simply can’t be bothered. Can’t make himself reach out, even though he knows from experience he probably should.

With this intense wave of depression comes that distinct sensation that because Felix isn’t currently there with him, Changbin isn’t wanted.

It’s an intrusive thought that’s entirely illogical, but to his subconscious makes all the sense in the world. If he were in his right mind, Changbin would be able to see that this distance is fine and normal. He doesn’t want to spend any more time around Felix than he has to, and he knows the fae feels the same way. Tentative peace doesn’t equal a close friendship and a bond mark isn’t going to change that.

But the bond mark changes something because Felix’s absence feels awful. Obviously, if the person he’s currently bound soul to soul with isn’t right next to him, then it must be because there’s something wrong with him. He must be repulsive, unlovable; worthless. Otherwise, Felix would be here. He’d be able to reach out and touch the other; he wouldn’t be feeling so alone. 

There’s nothing he can do about it though. He just sits there in bed and tries desperately not to let it overwhelm him. Deep down, he knows it’s all just bond sickness that’s making him think these things. In a couple of days, he’ll be as neutral about the fae as he has been for the past week. These thoughts are just magic making him crazy.

It doesn’t feel like he’s crazy. It feels like he’s correct. Considering the fact he has four broken bond marks in a row on his chest from all the other times someone hadn’t wanted him, it’s really hard to tell himself that it’s just his head playing tricks on him.

He thinks this time is exponentially worse than the past couple of bonding experiences he’s had if only because he well and truly can’t reach out. At least with Jun and Junseong and Haeun, he’d been able to go and sit next to them. Exist in their presence. Sooth his insanity. Sure, it hadn’t entirely made the feeling go away, but it had ameliorated it somewhat. He’d been able to see tangible evidence that he wasn’t alone.

Right now though, when he considers doing the same and reaching out to Felix, all he finds are reasons why he shouldn’t. The fae doesn’t want him around right now, has specifically asked for space. Besides, their relationship isn’t friendly enough for Changbin to justify it. If those weren’t reasons enough, Felix is likely going through his own struggles right now. He doesn’t need to try and help Changbin with his. If Changbin wants company, he can talk to somebody else in this house.

He does, eventually. Not because he finds the willpower to seek them out, but because Jisung knocks on the door and pushes it open when Changbin doesn’t answer. With him, he brings food that Changbin still doesn’t have the stomach to eat and a couple freshly laundered shirts that definitely don’t belong to him. The sentiment is welcome though, and the company does help slightly. Not much, not enough to actually make him feel better , but at least he isn’t suffering in isolation.

Jisung, as one could imagine, is filled with questions about how the ritual went. Seungmin had been quite strict about them not staying and watching. Though Jisung had been disappointed about this verdict, he hadn’t argued. Nobody argues with Seungmin, Jisung least of all. The man practically worships the ground his partner walks on, he wouldn’t dare.

Changbin would say this is an unhealthy approach to a partnership, but as far as he can tell, Seungmin is equally fond of Jisung. It’s definitely not in a normal way, perhaps not even in a way that humans have words for, but make no mistakes, Seungmin adores his hunter. If anything were to happen to Jisung, anything permanent he couldn’t immediately fix, Changbin fears for the safety of everybody within a several hundred mile radius. Actually, he thinks he just fears for Earth in general at that point.

Once Jisung has run out of questions to ask and words to say, Changbin is perfectly happy to give a recount of what happened. It’s not particularly interesting; his retellings of his bonding experiences never are. He keeps it factual, succinct, and simple. Felix had done alright, everything is going smoothly. Chan’s line work on the bond was as flawless as always.

Jisung insists on seeing the new bond mark, and though Changbin doesn’t understand why the man cares, he still acquiesces to the request. Blessedly, Jisung knows better than to try and touch, but he does stare at it just long enough for Changbin to start feeling uncomfortable.

The man has always been fascinated with the things, possibly because he and Seungmin don’t actually share a mark. It’s not for lack of trying- Chan has attempted to put a bond mark on the two of them no less than seventeen times. Every single time, the thing has either not stuck or simply vanished before the next morning. Eventually, they’d all collectively given up. Seungmin isn’t built for bond marks, and at this juncture, neither is Jisung.

Changbin has told Jisung countless times that he doesn’t want one. Jisung never openly disagrees, but there’s definitely a look of wistfulness on his face as he traces the spiral of the mark with a hovering finger. 

“It’s smaller than the last couple,” Jisung comments, tearing his eyes away from the bond so he can meet Changbin’s eyes.

“Is it?” Puffing out a breath, Changbin looks down at his own mark. Judging size like this is difficult; it’s too inflamed, is leaking too much magic, but he has no reason to doubt the other man’s assessment.

“Yeah, I think Chan’s getting better at it.” Mouth twitching up into a smile, Jisung playfully smacks Changbin’s stomach. “You’re good practice.”

Good practice. Jisung doesn’t mean anything by it, but Changbin still wrestles with the joke. He still lifts a hand to the bond and holds it an inch over the angry red skin. “It’s probably good it’s smaller,” he mutters, his lips pursing. “Eventually I’m going to run out of room.”

“Nah, you won’t.” Jisung pushes Changbin’s hand out of the way so he can poke at the empty parts of his chest. “You’ve got plenty of room.” Grin freezing, his eyebrows pinching as though he’s only just realized what he’s implying, he adds, “Not that you’ll need it, hopefully.”

“Hopefully,” echoes Changbin, as something important in his lungs and chest tightens painfully.

Once he’s satisfied the younger hunter’s curiosity, Jisung drops the subject of the bonding ritual entirely and simply rambles on about everything else that’s been happening the past two days. The answer is, surprisingly, nothing interesting. Chan has been directing most emergency calls to other groups. He’s argued twice with the Bureau about how long Changbin gets before he has to go on another mission, and they’ve apparently compromised on two weeks. 

But, Jisung reassures with a winning smile, he expects all parties involved are willing to put him and Felix out on the field as soon as the two of them are up and moving again. All Changbin has to do is ask.

“Thank the void,” he mutters, as he tugs the slightly too-small shirt Jisung brought for him over his head. “I’ve been going stir crazy.”

“Y’know, just… probably wait until you’re not puking everywhere.” When Changbin gives the man an unamused stare, Jisung lets out one of those tiny laughs of his that shake his shoulders before looking pointedly over at the trashcan in the corner. “Dude, hyung, your room reeks worse than you do.”

“I plan on showering, and my room could be worse,” Changbin defends quickly, crossing his arms over his chest. A second later, he remembers his new mark when it throbs with pain. Irritated, he uncrosses his arms. “I invite you to deal with this bond sickness instead.”

“No thanks.” Holding up his hands, Jisung’s grin only grows. “Looks like you’ve got it covered. I’d hate to step on any toes.”

“Fuck off,” Changbin huffs good-naturedly. It’s difficult to actually be annoyed in the face of that smile.

“Knowing you, you’ll be back to normal in a few days.” Punching his shoulder more gently than usual, Jisung chirps, “You’ll live. Besides, the longer you’re stuck in bed, the longer the rest of us get a break. Not to put too much pressure on you to stay sick or anything.”

Noting the distinct lack of a plural to that statement, Changbin finds himself focusing a little more intently on Jisung. “How– how is Felix doing?”

Like he senses how hesitant Changbin is to even ask the question, Jisung makes a point of adopting a reassuring tone. “He’s been fine. Well, I mean, he’s fine now. Er, better?” The man bounces on Changbin’s mattress as he tries to put whatever he’s thinking into words. “He was really going through it yesterday, or, at least, that’s what Hyunjin told us. But he’s been doing better today.”

Probably because the fae hasn’t been through this process nearly as many times. The first couple rituals are always easier.

“Have you seen him?” Changbin asks, already anticipating the answer.

“Seen him? Yes. Talked to him?” The younger hunter gives a staccato laugh. “Absolutely not. But you know how he is. Pretty sure he hasn’t eaten since the ritual, but then, neither have you.”

“So… he’s been up and around the house?” Changbin has to deliberately remind himself not to take the fact Felix hasn’t even bothered to come check up on him personally. It shouldn’t be a struggle, but he still finds himself fighting with it. Like you would’ve done any different in his position. Obviously, he wouldn’t have, it’s silly for him to care about this one way or another.

“I mean, define around the house.” When Changbin gives him an unimpressed look, Jisung holds up a defensive hand. “I mean, running laps around the house is still technically… around the house, right?”

Changbin sighs softly. “Now why do I feel like you’re not telling me something?”

Nervously, Jisung hunches his shoulders, clearly not wanting to be the one to talk about this. “It’s not- not bad or anything. And you guys are bonded now, so that makes it okay, right?” When Changbin’s expression doesn’t change, the man puffs out his cheeks. “Look, clearly the lock stones haven’t gone off, and Chan-hyung said it was fine. And Seungmin promised to keep an eye on him!”

“How far away from the house has he been?”

Jisung has to think about the question for exactly three seconds too long. “Oh, you know… within a mile?”

Instinctively, Changbin glances down at the lock stones still on his wrist. They’re undamaged, just like Jisung said they would be, but that doesn’t stop the gut reaction of you’re letting him run off alone that surges through him.

Quickly, he tries to justify it. Felix has previously stated he’s thought of running away. The collar on his neck might not be enough of a deterrent. If his own bond sickness is driving him crazy enough, he might just try and run, if only because in the moment it seems like an improvement. Those are all perfectly good reasons to be concerned.

But there’s something else about the idea of the fae just out there wandering that doesn’t sit right with Changbin. Glancing down in the direction of his own chest, like he can’t feel the constant ache of the raw mark against his flesh, he wonders once again if it’s him thinking these things, or just the magic talking. Honestly, he doesn’t know anymore.

The impression that he’s overreacting strengthens when Jisung gives a little shrug and repeats, “It’s fine. He needed out of the house, so… nobody stopped him. It’s not like we’re sending him on a grocery run. We’re just letting him get enrichment.”

Part of Changbin is genuinely glad that Felix is handling all of this well enough to be able to get up and do things. Not everyone has that kind of constitution, and it’s better than seeing the fae bedridden like he’s been. On the other hand, he can feel that oppressive loneliness slowly creeping back in. Even with Jisung sitting right in front of him.

If these side effects could just go away already, that would be great. They won’t though, will they? Not for another couple days at least. Until then, he’s destined to be trapped in his own head. 

And what a pathetic place that’s turning out to be…

Fighting the urge to curl in on himself, Changbin finally gives Jisung a noncommittal nod. “Yeah, it’s fine. Whatever he needs.”

“You doing okay, hyung?” Jisung sounds genuinely concerned. “I know you usually don’t like to talk about it, and you don’t have to if you don’t want to, but– it’s just-” Fussing with the seam of his jeans for a moment, he finally settles on, “I remember how rough it was for you last time.”

And the time before that. And possibly even the time before that. These rituals are just difficult now, Changbin is used to it. He expected this. He doesn’t need sympathy, he doesn’t need Jisung or Chan or Hyunjin or even Seungmin worrying about him. He’s fine, all of this bullshit is just in his head.

“You mean other than the puking everywhere?” Changbin does his best to pull a reassuring expression onto his face. One that effectively covers up all of the things he’s actually thinking. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Inevitably, when he shuts down Jisung’s other furtive attempts to see what’s wrong, the man leaves him alone. He insists Changbin needs to eat at some point and advises him to take a shower, but other than that, he’s once again left to his own devices. Changbin can’t find it in himself to complain; he figures the solitude is preferable to trying to awkwardly dodge Jisung’s well-meaning concern.

For a bit after the other hunter leaves, Changbin tries to focus on his new bond mark and get a vague idea of where Felix is. Yesterday, he probably could’ve managed this without any trouble at all. Today, that hyper-awareness has faded just enough that all he gets for his troubles are muddled thoughts and frustration. The man is out there wandering, somewhere, but he might as well be on the moon for all Changbin is capable of reaching him.

Once he beats back that wave of depression with a stick, he desperately attempts to find something else to focus on. His brain is too scrambled for most things to stick, but he tries anyway. Reading proves to be impossible; paperwork is even harder. He’s still too weak to do any sort of meaningful exercise, and when he gets too close to the food Jisung brought, the instant nausea that fills him dissuades him from eating. 

Nothing for it then but to just sit here, steadily letting his thoughts eat him alive.

He notices without really meaning to, as he sits in his desk chair and slowly spins around, that he’s still got the little plant Jisung had dug up from outside the dead zone. It’s still there, somehow still green even though it has no right to be. Sure, it’s drooping, but it’s also reaching in the direction of the distant window, like it’s desperately trying to grab what light it can, even though there’s not much to go around.

After so many days of deliberately not taking care of it, Changbin genuinely expected the thing to be dead. It’s not like he’d given it anything it needed to survive.  The little puddle of water in the bottom of the mug he’d dropped the sprout into hardly counts as looking after it. Still, the plant is alive. Tenaciously, like it’s telling him without words that he’s going to have to throw it away properly if he wants to get rid of it.

He probably should toss it.

He doesn’t.

Though Changbin hadn’t had any intention of keeping the weed, if it’s stayed alive this long, then maybe it deserves a chance. If he doesn’t do anything, it really will die and that somehow doesn’t seem fair. He’s not great with botany, they didn’t really have classes for it back in the Academy, mandatory or otherwise, but he figures some dirt would probably help. That and some actual water.

For the first time since the bonding ritual, Changbin properly leaves his room to do something other than use the restroom. His trip is a sluggish, quiet one, down the hallway and towards the back door, careful not to disrupt anything on his way. Jisung is asleep on the couch, Hyunjin sprawled out on top of him and drooling into his shirt as he sleeps as well. If either of them stir enough to notice him, neither bother to say something.

It’s hilariously difficult to find usable dirt within their dead zone, Changbin quickly discovers. Most of what they have is hardened to the point of practically being stone. The plants they’ve accumulated grow up through the cracks, and might not even count as being alive in the first place. Hyunjin’s ‘garden’ is a rock garden, and therefore doesn’t help him much. There’s some loose dirt around the tree out front, but the poor thing needs as much of the stuff it can get, and probably quite a bit more than they have.

Changbin, however, is stubborn. He’s managed to stave off the depression for long enough to come out here, he’s going to find some soil for his little plant.

Eventually, he’s able to find an old, warped shovel and scrape together enough to fill up the mug. From there, he awkwardly attempts to plant the wilted sprout in it and give it a little water. That looks correct shaped, he decides, as he realizes just how little he knows about plants. Hopefully, in the process of trying to take care of the thing, he won’t immediately kill it. 

He gives himself about a 50-50 chance. He’s got terrible luck.

Felix could probably keep the plant alive, he thinks absently, as he slips back into his room without incident. Sure, he may not be the kind of fae who’s able to magically grow things, but he probably knows more about plants than Changbin does. It wouldn’t take much, to be fair- everyone else in this house likely also knows more about green stuff than Changbin- but Felix in particular is on his mind. Has been for the past few days.

Hell, he’d argue the fae has been haunting his thoughts for the past month.

And right now, Felix wants to be as far away from Changbin as possible. No doubt to the very edges of what the man’s collar will allow. Changbin wouldn’t be surprised if he gets pinged by the lock stones eventually, letting him know the fae has accidentally managed to trigger the spell in his attempt to get some space. 

It could be worse, he tells himself, as he sets the little plant beside his window and stares at it. He and Felix could have been bonded while they still actively hated each other. At least now they’re tacitly getting along. Even if it isn’t much, it’s enough to constitute a cordial working relationship. But it still feels bad, and he’s not really sure what to do with that.

Yes, he knows better, but something in him still desperately wants to reach out to Felix. 

Changbin fights with himself over it for the rest of the day. It circles his thoughts well into the evening, long past when he should’ve left his room and tried to find dinner. Or at least bothered to reheat the food that Jisung brought him. Logically- logically he should give Felix as much space as he needs, just leave him alone and let him work through this on his own. That’s what Felix wants, that’s what Changbin would normally want, there’s no reason to deviate from that course. He’s not crazy, even if he feels like he is at the moment.

Oh sure, it hurts, but he’s used to things hurting. That’s just the life of a hunter. He’s numb to most of it at this point. Reason trumps emotion, he makes sure of it every damn time he has to make a choice.

Unfortunately for him, he’s not really listening to reason at the moment.

He makes it until somewhere around sunset before finally caving.

It’s not particularly dramatic when he does; he doesn’t even crack properly. He can’t bring himself to actively look for Felix. He isn’t even sure where he’d start if he wanted to try. The man has, according to Jisung, been out of the house all day. While Changbin could normally cover the area of this dead zone to look for the man, right now, he just doesn’t have the wherewithal. He’s still running a low grade fever, and even if he wasn’t, he’s exhausted. Being bonded has sapped his energy.

But he does give in to the voices clamoring in his head enough that he unlocks his window before climbing out of it in a much more graceless manner than usual. Maybe this way, he’ll at least catch a glimpse of the fae as he does his laps around the house.

You can imagine how startled he is when halfway through clambering down the side of the house, he hears a low voice greet him with an awkward, “Oh, you’re… Hey.”

Changbin waits until he’s landed on the ground and regained his balance before turning to stare, slightly dumbfounded, at Felix. The fae is curled up beneath his window and clearly has been for a while, judging by how stiff he is when he moves. He’s stripped down to a tank top and joggers, both of which are covered in dust and grime. Just like his pale purple skin. Just like his long hair which looks like it hasn’t seen a brush in over forty-eight hours. Every inch of him looks worn down.

He may be sitting, but he clearly hasn’t been doing it peacefully. Even as he stares at Changbin, he starts fidgeting again, like he physically can’t help himself. There’s a wild look in the man’s eyes like he’s sorely tempted to bolt, but he’s here.

So close, for void knows how long.

For a moment, Changbin forgets to ask why, or since when, or if there’s something Felix needs because there’s probably a reason he’s here. Instead, he just lets out a breath and slumps against the side of the house beside the fae. Almost at once, that crushing feeling of inescapable loneliness starts to abate. Whatever hellish magic has been gripping him lets him go, because his partner is right there and that’s enough to satisfy the evil in his head.

It’s like being able to breathe again after being underwater for too long.

Remembering belatedly that Felix said something to him, Changbin gives a start and fishes for what it was, as well as an answer. “I– yeah. Needed some…” He gestures loosely around the area. “Fresh air is good for me.”

Felix nods but doesn’t look at him. He’s fiddling with his fingers. On closer inspection, Changbin realizes he’s holding onto a pebble. It was probably an ordinary rock originally, but at this point it’s saturated in Felix’s magic. It glows like a precious gem might under the sun, full of bright sapphire light. The same light that’s spilling uncontrollably off of the fae’s wings and hands.

For a moment, they just sit there in silence. It’s not the most awkward silence Changbin has ever experienced, but it’s definitely up there on the list. He knows he has a lot that’s fighting to spill out of his mouth, and it’s only through sheer perseverance that he keeps it all to himself. Similarly, Felix keeps opening his mouth with a start like he wants to say something, but every time he seems to think twice and snaps his lips shut once more.

That being said, it’s somehow less awkward than it should have been, because Changbin can feel some of what Felix is feeling. In fits and starts, sure, nothing as powerful as the day before, but it’s something. They’re sitting close enough for him to pick up on Felix’s nerves. The almost manic buzz that’s filled him, making it hard for him to control his magic, and even harder for him to stay still. He recognizes the frustration and the confusion and the ever present simmering anger just waiting to be triggered.

But there’s also the distinct sensation of… relief. Changbin hesitates to call it that, because somehow he doubts that he’s able to bring Felix any sort of relief, but that’s certainly what it feels like. Without any better words, that’s how he’s going to describe it.

It’s almost as if his presence is soothing the fae, just as much as Felix’s presence is soothing him.

Maybe, Changbin thinks as they sit there and watch the sun slowly dip behind the jagged peaks of the mountains. I should’ve tried this earlier. Just to see if it worked, if absolutely nothing else.

“How have you been handling things?” Changbin asks at last, as the light starts to fade from the area. Soon, the only illumination they’ll have will be from the open window above them and Felix’s haywire magic.

“Fine.” Felix answers, as quick and defensive as ever. After a second though, he seems to think twice and scuffs at the ground with a bare foot. “It’s worse than I-” Hesitating, his jaw tenses and it takes him a while to relax it again. “I guess I thought it’d be-”

“Better?” Changbin finishes. When Felix stares at him, he snorts bitterly and shakes his head. “No, I promise you, this shit only gets worse every time you go through it. If you have to be bonded to someone after me, it will suck even more.”

“I still feel you under my skin,” Felix admits, flexing his fingers and rolling his shoulders as he does. “It’s bad.”

“Yeah, I don’t like being stuck in my skin, either,” Changbin mutters, only half sarcastic. Though in all fairness, I didn’t like being in his body either.

“I didn’t- fuck, whatever.” Shrugging it off, Felix throws the pebble he’s been fiddling with out away from the house. With little, echoing clicks it skips its way over broken, uneven ground, until it’s lost entirely to the gloom. Even the magic light stuck to it doesn’t keep it in view for long. “I didn’t think I’d be… I’d be able to see inside you like that.”

Pulling a face at the way the man words it, Changbin gives a half shrug. “Sorry, guess I should’ve warned you ahead of time? It’s not pretty in there.”

“It wasn’t like that with Kangsung,” Felix admits, scuffing his heels more forcefully against the ground. After a bit, he gives up on sitting entirely and abruptly lurches his feet. “I don’t know why. The connection was different. I could feel him in my head, but I couldn’t– I don’t know.”

“He’s a psyker,” Changbin mutters, stretching and slowly getting to his feet as well. “I’ve heard it’s different. They’re better at brain stuff.”

“Is that we’re calling it?” Felix asks with a snort.

“You know what I meant.” Changbin’s surprised to feel a small smile coming to his face as he talks. It’s the first genuine one he’s managed in a while. “I think they can… tune stuff out if they try. No filters for me though. You get all of it, for better or worse. Probably for worse.”

“No, I-” Furrowing his brows, Felix bounces on the balls of his feet before quickly asking, “Walk with me?” like it’s not a total non-sequitur.

Looking out first at the darkness of the surrounding area, and at the collar around Felix’s throat, Changbin considers it. He’ll probably regret it tomorrow; he’s supposed to be recuperating, not exerting himself further. That being said, he thinks he might do anything that’ll give him an excuse to be around Felix. At least until all of this weird bond mark sickness settles down.

“Yeah, I’ll walk.”

It ends up being more of a jog. The moment Changbin starts moving, he realizes how much he needed to. His limbs might be stiff and sore, but getting out and doing something with them feels good. It’s made better by knowing he’s got Felix beside him, if only because it’s steadily satisfying the bit of his brain that’s been so depressed for the past twenty-four hours.

He half expects the fae to do more flying than actual running, but Felix defies expectation by being shockingly quick on his feet. Maybe it’s not so surprising, considering his sword work, but Changbin definitely anticipated the man would do what most flying races do and just use his wings. He doesn’t question it, though. If anything, he appreciates it. Almost like Felix is deliberately putting them on the same level, even if it’s just for a little while.

They don’t get all the way to the border. The dead zone is huge, it’s dark out, and Changbin only has so much energy. As limitless as Felix’s ability to just go seems to be, he eventually needs a break. They do, however, make it out to the old garage before losing steam. Changbin didn’t intend to come this way, but maybe it’s just one of those things about this dead zone. You always come across the garage if you go out far enough, whether you’re aiming for it or not.

They don’t really talk, even after they stop. Felix just waits for Changbin to catch his breath before the two of them grab some water from the old spigot. Neither of them have anything to carry it in, so it’s a matter of trying not to look stupid as they stick their faces close to it and treat it like an over-sized water fountain. The important part is it functions, and with every passing minute, Changbin thinks he feels better.

Better than he has since the ritual, at least. And maybe a little more than that, though… he’s not about to make any assumptions.

“How are you doing?”

Felix’s question honestly surprises Changbin. He doesn’t think he’s ever heard the fae genuinely express concern for anybody other than himself since he got here. Much less to him. He has to take a moment to blink and reorient himself before he’s able to answer, and even then, the words somehow feel strange in his mouth.

“Wasn’t great,” he admits, his eyes fixed on one of Felix’s freckled shoulders. “It’s better now.”

When Felix keeps staring at him, Changbin slowly elaborates, feeling very much like he’s having to fish each sentence out from the depths of his chest. “These rituals have been… bad for me for a while. The last couple. This one too. It’s fine though, I’m used to it.”

“I wouldn’t want to have to get used to this,” Felix states, his voice much less sharp than it usually is.

“You won’t have to.” Changbin doesn’t have any right to sound as confident as he does, but that doesn’t stop him. Sure, maybe for him this partnership is just another one in a long string of them. But for Felix, it doesn’t necessarily have to be. Maybe, just maybe, he can make this something decent.

Or at least not as damnedably awful as his last bond had been.

“Right.” Felix has every right to sound doubtful. Changbin probably would have too if he were talking to a hunter like himself, someone who’s been bonded and re-bonded so many times it’s laughable. Yet at same time, there isn’t as much resistance to Changbin’s claims as there could’ve been.

He’s inside my head, Changbin thinks, with much less discomfort than before. He knows I mean it.

“It’s fine. I’ll get better, and you’ll get better. Give it a couple days.” Managing a small smile, he asks, “Have you been using the ointment?”

Felix clicks his tongue. “I hate it. I got some in my hair yesterday, it was awful.”

Glancing at the fae’s long, straight hair, Changbin snorts. “Yeah, I’d imagine.”

“It’s so greasy,” Felix mutters. “I still haven’t gotten it all out.”

“Shower,” Changbin advises. “Tie your hair back next time.” Thinking about it for a moment, he adds, “Actually, you should probably get used to tying it back all the time. With the kind of work we’ll be doing, it’ll be more of a hazard like that than anything else.”

“Work, right.” Chewing on that concept for a while, Felix finally shakes his head. “I guess… I guess I never thought I’d be–” Stopping, he just lets out a breath and gives up.

“Considering how hard you were fighting it, I’m surprised too.” Changbin’s expression falls into something more serious. “But this is a job. You agreed to it, you have to follow through.”

“I know.”

The fae’s voice isn’t exactly cold, but Changbin recognizes it as a cue to let the subject drop anyway. He does without argument. Obviously, Felix is aware of what all of this entails. He’s been informed, and now he has a permanent brand on his chest to back it up. There’s no illusions as to where this is going anymore.

All of that aside, Changbin thinks he gets Felix’s hesitation. He didn’t go through years of specialized training at the Academy, he wasn’t specially picked out for this role. He didn’t have his entire adolescence to prepare. Instead, he got thrust into it abruptly because a judge somewhere had given him an option that sounded slightly less awful than prison. Now that everything is becoming a lot more serious, it’s bound to seem intimidating.

Changbin can’t really stop this from being scary. He can, however, do everything in his power to make it easier.

A few days ago, he wouldn’t have bothered to go out of the way for Felix’s sake. Now, in the midst of a heavy bout of bond sickness that’s only now starting to lift, he feels a lot more charitable. A lot more willing to reach out and try.

“Look, I’m aware it’s a lot. And I know it’s not something you’re thrilled to be doing in the first place.” Changbin keeps his voice soft; his tone as neutral as he can manage. He’s not trying to be condescending, if anything, he’s trying to be as understanding as possible. But he knows how this might sound when voiced aloud. “If it gets to be too much, you can always just stand back and let me handle it. I’ve been doing this for a long time now. I know we’re technically partners, but I’m usually fine on my own.”

Felix’s baby doll lips pinch down into a frown. “We’re partners,” he repeats, with more force than Changbin expected. “And I can pull my own weight.”

“I know you can, I just–” Stopping himself, Changbin shakes his head. “Don’t worry if it takes time for you to get used to it. It does for everybody.”

Unlike usual, where Felix seems to feel the need to pick apart everything Changbin says in case there’s some hidden meaning he’s not admitting to, this time he just accepts it. With a little nod, he turns back in the direction of the base and stands there, his wings fluttering absently behind him. “I’ll manage.”

“You will.”

They stay there for a while longer, as the night chill starts to take over and the last of the ambient light in the sky fades away. Changbin thinks he could’ve stayed there all night, if given the opportunity. Eventually though, they both seem to remember themselves, as well as the fact their bodies have been working overtime for the past two days.

Felix jerks his head vaguely in the direction of the base. After taking a moment to breathe deeply and collect himself, Changbin nods.

Shoulder to shoulder, they head back.

 

᚛ᚒᚖᚒ᚜

Notes:

I know we're still going slow, but I promise it'll all be worth it.

Chapter 11: Life As A Dog

Notes:

Would you look at that, I can update things.

Enjoy~

᚛ᚒᚖᚒ᚜

 

Just as Changbin expected, it only takes a couple more days for the bond sickness to completely fade.

He and Felix end up sticking close together for the remainder of the ordeal. Well, close might be a bit of an exaggeration, but compared to how they usually are it’s definitely a departure from the norm. Though they don’t discuss the matter, they simply both instinctively decide to start sleeping in the living room. Not on the same piece of furniture, mind you, but near enough to each other that they’re in easy proximity.

Blessedly, Changbin gets some sleep that isn’t fever-induced nightmares and paranoia.

When they’re not asleep, they still mostly keep to the living room. Changbin stays on the left side of the room, Felix entertains himself on the right. They hardly talk, and when they do it’s in fits and starts, with a healthy dose of hesitation between each sentence, but it doesn’t really matter. They’re together, it’s making things better. All things considered, it’s a very small concession to make, but it’s a necessary one.

 Where the first couple days of the bond sickness has been hell, this is much more livable. It’s still bad, Changbin still fights with that ever present creep of depression and Felix insists on going on several walks a day, just to burn off excess energy, but it’s an improvement. It’s not pure misery anymore, it’s just uncomfortable.

Changbin deals with far worse on a weekly basis when he’s working, this hardly registers.

If anybody else in the house notices the change- which let’s be honest, it would be difficult not to- they don’t comment on it. Jisung gives them both heart-shaped grins and offers to make them breakfast, even though he’s terrible at anything more challenging than scrambled eggs. Seungmin just hums and acts like everything is perfectly normal. Chan gives Changbin an encouraging smile, but keeps it at that. Honestly, Hyunjin is the one who makes the biggest deal about it and that’s only because he wants to make sure the two of them have enough blankets and pillows to be comfortable.

He feels weird saying it out loud, especially after the internal struggle it’s taken to get to this point, but everything is normal now. Or at least, everything is as it’s expected to be. They’re partners. What was originally arranged a month ago has come to pass, and that’s exactly what everybody else in this house sees.

All the little details of what exactly those marks have done to the two of them, those things are for Changbin and Felix to remember. And honestly, Changbin suspects that Felix will be putting as much of this out of his mind as possible the moment the ritual magic no longer forces him to think about it. As will he, probably.

Precisely five nights after getting their bond marks, Changbin decides it’s time to start doing something again. As a courtesy, he brings it up to Felix first, in the early hours in the morning when they’re both still waking up and shaking the sleep from their eyes and limbs. Though he fully intends to get the ball rolling whether the fae thinks he’s prepared or not.

It couldn’t have happened in a more mundane way. Changbin simply turns to Felix, who is already on his feet and stretching his wings behind him in an effort to wake them up, and asks, “Are you ready to work?”

Belatedly, he realizes he should’ve given more context to his question. Miraculously, the fae understands regardless.

“Yeah,” the man decides, his voice a sleepy, deep croak compared to its usual smooth tones. “I think so.”

The disconnect between Felix’s face and voice doesn’t catch him off guard like it once did. Changbin has gotten used to hearing it, over the past few days. Personally, he thinks he prefers it like this, a little rough around the edges and far less sharp than it is when the fae is fully conscious. Not that he has any reason to have an opinion one way or another.

Most of the new things he’s discovered about Felix and the thoughts he’s had as a result, Changbin attributes directly to the bond mark. Very little of it has come from anything explicitly said by the man, even with magic tying them together, he’s still taciturn and tight-lipped at the best of the times. Instead, most of what Changbin’s gathered has come from absent observation. Behavioral patterns. Little habits he’s picked up on.

He knows when Felix rises. He knows the way the man breathes when he sleeps, he knows how much sound it takes to accidentally wake him. He knows the look Felix gets on his face when he’s trying to concentrate on something he can’t quite wrap his mind around. He knows how the man sounds when he’s drowsy, the little pout he gets when he’s on the cusp of unconsciousness, still fighting it for reasons Changbin can’t quite puzzle out.

Unintentionally, Changbin has learned a lot about the fae. Most of it, he suspects, is going to be useless. Still, for the past few days, it’s felt like the most important knowledge in the world. Now, as the last of that uncomfortable bond magic fades from his system, Changbin is correctly able to recognize that this stuff isn’t actually all that vital.

He won’t forget it though. As useful as it is, having such a sharp memory, it’s a double edge sword because he’s terrible at getting rid of the inconsequential things.

Registering how long he’s been quiet, Changbin brings himself back to the conversation. “I’ll let Chan-hyung know.”

“How long will it take him to send us out on a- A job?” Felix stumbles slightly over the word job. Like he’s not entirely clear on the terminology.

“Could be a couple days.” Pondering it, Changbin’s lips lift in a wry smile. “Ah, I take that back. Give it ‘til the end of today.”

Brows furrowing, the fae turns his full attention on Changbin. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“Depends on who you ask.” Shrugging, Changbin gets to his feet as well with a stifled grumble. There’s been a crick in his neck for the past day now, their couch is made for a lot of things and a good night’s sleep is not one of them. That being said, sleeping out here isn’t a decision he regrets, even if he’s more aware of the ramifications now. “I’m in high demand.”

Felix stares at Changbin like he’s not entirely sure if that was meant to be a joke or not. When Changbin doesn’t laugh or give any other indication that he’s kidding, the fae just rolls with it and doesn’t belabor the point. “I guess I’ll have to check and see if my uniform actually fits.”

“You never even tried it on?”

Giving him a funny look, Felix tilts his head. “No?”

Distantly, Changbin can remember getting his first uniform. It had been a monumental occasion at the time, even though now he recognizes it as being entirely mundane. He’d sat next to Chan at the ungodly hour of two AM and carefully picked from the order form what pieces of gear he was going to need. It’d taken three days to ship out to the nearest NHII outpost, and opening that box had felt like winter solstice come early. Not that Changbin had celebrated a holiday in… Well.

He’d hardly even waited to make sure everything he ordered was there before trying the uniform on. Changbin didn’t usually get excited about things like this, but when he’d looked in the mirror, he’d thought he finally looked like someone people would take seriously. That NHII logo stamped into his leathers, it’d made everything feel so much more official.

While he gets Felix’s indifference to the whole thing- he feels it himself more days than he doesn’t- he knows that his own blasé approach is simply because he’s old and has done this so many times before. It’s weird to think for some people it’s never special.

“Well,” Changbin mutters, rubbing at the tensed muscles of his neck. “I’d advise putting it on before you get onto the field.”

Changbin is pretty sure he’s still slightly off-kilter. He’s more sluggish than usual, his thoughts keep on spiraling in patterns that he usually wouldn’t bother with. That being said, it’s a hell of a lot better than it was. When he finds something to focus his brain on, he’s practically able to ignore it.

After the two of them share breakfast, one cooked and consumed long before anybody else in the house has woken up, Felix disappears off to his room to do as has been suggested and try on his uniform. Changbin, meanwhile, glances at the clock and deems it late enough to hunt down Chan.

Unsurprisingly, Chan has yet to properly sleep. The man is still awake and scrolling through his work email. He tends to go to bed so late- or early?- that it hardly counts as sleep at all, instead more like naps that he takes at vaguely sleep related times. This morning, Changbin finds him hanging out on the edge of Hyunjin’s nest, a pillow in his arms and his fluffy hair half obscuring his face as he mumbles at the glowing screen in his hands.

Hyunjin isn’t in his human form. Where he’d usually sleep there’s just a comically large bird nestled into the rest of the space on the bed. Roosting, in the same way you might see a pigeon or morning dove hunker down on a tree branch.

At the sound of the door opening, the phoenix cracks an eye, his tail feathers shivering slightly as he attempts to wake up and process what’s going on around him.

“Go back to sleep, Jinnie,” Changbin whispers to the man, waving him off before he’s able to properly rouse himself. “I’m only looking for Chan-hyung.”

Blinking at him groggily, Chan stirs and attempts to sit up. “Bin, you–” He knuckles one eye, then the other. “It’s late.”

“Hyung, it’s early.” Nodding at the man’s phone, Changbin is unsurprised to see Chan’s eyes widen and his cheeks puff out as he notices the time.

“Oh shit.” His voice is gravelly with disuse. “Is it– Is it something urgent?”

“Not urgent,” Changbin reassures, already holding out his hand to stop Chan from attempting to struggle to his feet. “Just wanted to let you know; when you have the energy, Felix and I are ready for the field.”

Though Hyunjin is clearly still half asleep, he manages a trill that echoes through the room. Changbin smiles at the sight of the man’s colorful feathers fluffing up happily.

“Good, that’s– Great, that’s great.” Chan struggles for a moment more with coherent thought before furrowing his brows and asking, “Are you sure? It hasn’t even been a week.”

“Don’t need a week,” Changbin states bluntly, crossing his arms. “Neither does Felix.”

Visibly wrestling with this concept, Chan opens and closes his mouth uselessly several times, no doubt as he tries to construct a coherent argument against the idea. Eventually, Changbin takes pity on him. “Go back to bed, hyung. We’ll talk after you sleep.”

“Right. Sleep.” Chan looks distinctly doubtful. “Talk later.”

Which is enough for Changbin. Quietly, he backs out of the room and goes about his day.

With what seems like a surefire prospect of a job coming up, Changbin uses this opportunity to get the rest of his life back in order. He showers under the hottest water he can stand. He brushes his teeth until they stop feeling like they’ve grown fur. He eats more than he usually would, in the hopes of making up for all the meals that he’s missed. He finally takes the time to go into his room and clean the place out. 

It smells rancid, what with the several day old puke and the tangled, sweaty sheets, but he gags his way through it and is at least decently pleased with the outcome.

If you didn’t know better, you wouldn’t even be able to tell he’s been through a terrible bout of bond sickness. Hell, the place looks better than he usually manages to keep it on a daily basis. He’ll call it spring cleaning and leave it there.

Felix, from what he can tell, does something similar. He vanishes into his room for several hours and when he reemerges, he’s changed, he’s brushed his hair, and he looks vaguely people shaped again. He’s even managed to make the dark circles under his eyes look a little less like bruises, which is better than Changbin has done. 

The two of them have been doing better the past couple days about being up and about, but there’d definitely been a certain number of tasks that had just fallen by the wayside. Now that they’re back to form, there’s no excuse to keep sitting around. Thankfully, Felix agrees with the sentiment without Changbin having to voice it aloud.

He makes an attempt at working out that doesn’t leave him feeling entirely pathetic. Felix spends time outside practicing with his sword. They both have a weird standoff outside the bathroom afterwards that ends with Changbin grunting and letting the fae rinse off first.

They manage to get into the late hours of the evening before Chan makes good on Changbin’s prediction that they’ll be sent on a job. But it does come, because of course it does. Because there are always people who need help.

There’s very little fanfare involved. It’s simply a matter of the older hunter hemming and hawing over the emails on his computer until he seems to remember something and straightens. Though Changbin’s only watching out of the corner of his eyes, he sees it happen. The thought process that Chan tosses back-and-forth before finally settling on a firm decision. You can practically see the words forming before they’re even out of man’s mouth.

“I’ve got a job for you.”

“Where is it?” This is a pretty standard procedure for Changbin. He doesn’t need much information to start off with, no reasoning, no back-story. Just a location, threat level, and a two word description of what he’s hunting. Hell, half the time, it isn’t until he’s on route to his destination that he even reads the full details of what’s going on.

Changbin doesn’t expect a deviation from that pattern, but his situation is different now, and Chan is quick to remind him of that. The man actually takes the time to turn around in his chair and face the rest of the room as the printer under his desk whirs and burps out several pages, his eyes briefly seeking out Changbin before landing on Felix. “Are you sure you’re both ready for this?”

Oh, it’s for the fae’s sake. That makes more sense.

Seeming to register where the conversation is going, Felix looks up from what he’s been doing and gives the room his full attention. “Yeah, I’m sure.” He exchanges a quick glance with Changbin. “We’re sure.”

It feels weird to have somebody else speak for him. He’s not sure if it’s a good weird or a bad weird.

But, for better or for worse, Chan takes Felix’s statement as group consensus. “I’ve got a smaller job for the two of you. Smaller than I’d usually send you on, Bin, but I figured it would be a good warm-up.” He gives a light, easy smile. “Get you back into the swing of things.”

“I’m not that rusty,” Changbin mutters, frowning on instinct.

Holding up his hands, half-grinning, Chan reassures, “I didn’t say you were. But you know, it’s been a month. When was the last time you took a break that long?”

Changbin’s frown deepens. Eight years, he doesn’t say, because Chan’s question hadn’t been one the man expected an answer to. Eight years, and it doesn’t bear thinking about.

Clearly assuming Changbin’s mind went elsewhere, Chan’s chuckling becomes an easy smile. “Exactly. So just trust me and take it slow, alright?”

“If it’s a threat you’re handing me,” Changbin mutters, staring at the ground so he doesn’t have to look at Felix’s sharp-eyed stare or Chan’s happy crow’s feet. “Then I’ll take it, hyung. Slow or not.”

That is, more or less, how they got the job.

All things considered, it’s pretty standard. There’s a threat, other Bureau ordained methods have failed to contain it, their last resort is an elimination team. All Changbin and Felix have to do is get in, handle it, stick around long enough for somebody to collect the body, and then leave. It’s almost mind-numbing with how easy it promises to be.

The details are something Changbin gets from several badly photocopied pages that Chan passes his way. Their target is a vampire, an Italian vampire to be precise, which is something at least Jisung gets a giggle out of. Changbin is more focused on the apparent age of the target- one-hundred and seven, respectable for any vampire- and the fact he had no criminal record before this.

As with a lot of vampire related incidents, the whole thing follows a familiar pattern. Local, mild-mannered vampire gets blood-crazed- as most hunters call it. He decides that actually, the consent of his meals isn’t an issue, and maybe ends up sucking a couple people completely dry. Reports are filed. Said reports get sent over to a local team. When they fail to bring the vampire in, it escalates to a district team.

Apparently, the final nail in the coffin that got this person slated for elimination was the vampire injuring a hunter. It hadn’t been particularly life-threatening, Chan comments, as he reads over the details of the email, but it was bad enough that protocol kicked in. A D-class threat became a C-class threat. There’s no longer any legal requirement to bring the guy in alive. Changbin is allowed and even encouraged to eliminate him.

Per the usual formalities, he gets one last chance to surrender peacefully. If it doesn’t work- and let’s be real here it probably won’t- that’s it.

“Do they always get… one last chance?” Felix asks quietly, as Chan disappears into the kitchen to refill his water glass. “Are hunters supposed to give them an opportunity to be peaceful, or-”

“Traditionally, yeah.” Rifling through his papers, Changbin squints at the photos they’ve managed to dig up of the guy. A couple are just CCTV footage shots, the other is an ID photo from a local gym. He looks ordinary, but then, a lot of the people who cross his metaphorical desk are. “If they’re sapient, we try to give them a chance to come quietly.”

Felix’s voice is almost entirely drowned out by the sound of the sink turning on. “I… wasn’t given one.”

Glancing away from his papers, several things run through Changbin’s head. The first is you’re a fae. The close second is you’re a murderer. It’s only once he registers how flimsy both of those reasons are that his mouth twists. “You weren’t eliminated.”

Rolling his shoulders, Felix’s wings shiver. “Yeah, I guess.”

If it weren’t for the bond mark now on his chest, Changbin might have pressed the issue. Felix should be grateful he’s still alive. A lot of hunters are trigger happy, especially when a body count gets involved. No matter what the judge ruled on the fae’s case, sometimes on the field, different calls are made. It’s not right, but it’s also a grim side effect of the kind of world they live in.

But… there’s something there, in the tight expression on Felix’s face, that has Changbin holding his tongue. Yes, he’s still here, but that’s the bare minimum. If he’d been a human, that trial would have likely gone very different.

Unsure what to do with the minefield he’s stumbled into, Changbin opens his mouth, only for Chan to walk back into the living room with a cheerful, “So, how soon do you think you can leave?” and that effectively destroys the rest of the conversation.

For the best, Changbin decides, because honestly he’s not sure how he was supposed to answer.

After Chan has answered the email asking for help, officially putting Changbin and Felix on the job, the two of them take some time to get packed. For Changbin, this part is as easy as breathing. He’s gone through his pre-job checklist so many times, he could do it in his sleep. At this point, all it really amounts to anymore is making sure his uniform isn’t crusted with blood or some other unspeakable thing, and making sure he’s restocked all the other essentials.

He remembers at one point Chan kept a printed list of everything they’d need before they left the house on the front door. It’d stayed up for five years, until Jisung had accidentally knocked the ancient tape loose when he and Changbin had been fucking around with each other. For a while, they’d kept a new, similar list on the refrigerator, but it had only lasted eight months before getting trashed.

They all have it memorized by now. The sentiment has long since outlived its usefulness. Still, every time he packs, he mentally runs through that printed list and smiles.

Clean water bottle, clean underwear. Rope, hunting knife, at least one roll of gauze in addition to the first aid kit. The standard issue flare gun, the standard issue tranquilizer. A working phone charger, as well as a battery pack. Their uniform, a change of civilian clothes, and of course, their chosen weapon.

Always in that order, typed in bolded thirty-six point font. Changbin kind of wishes they’d kept the original paper, instead of throwing it away in the moment.

At some point while he packs, Changbin feels the subtle presence of someone else nearby, and catches sight of Felix out of the corner of his eyes. The man clearly isn’t trying to be obtrusive, but he is watching the hunter get ready, like it’s actually something of interest to do. Briefly, Changbin considers saying something to make it known that he’s noticed the fae, but after a few seconds, he lets it go.

Felix isn’t hurting anyone by standing there. His silent presence isn’t going to affect Changbin one way or another.

From the quick glances he casts the man’s way, Changbin guesses the man is lost in thought. Deeply, if the tightness of his mouth is anything to go by. The only sign that he might still be present is the occasional twitch and blink of his eyes. Other than that, he’s lost in his own little world.

It’s only once Changbin starts to sense a certain discomfort coming from their bond that he decides to step in, if only because he’s not particularly fond of that weird feeling in his chest.

“What’s on your mind?” he asks flatly, not looking away from his efforts to find where the hell he put the tranquilizer case.

“I’ve never actually seen a vampire before,” Felix admits, shifting his stance minutely and watching as the hunter grumbles under his breath and throws the old, dinged-up metal case in the vague direction of his duffel bag. “Are they really bats?”

That’s definitely not what Felix had been thinking about, but who is he to pry? He’s only the man’s partner. If he doesn’t want to share, he’s not obligated

“Big fucking mosquitoes, actually,” Changbin huffs in answer to the question, before pausing and slowly turning to look at Felix. “You’re serious. Never?” For all that vampires tend to be social recluses, sticking to their own little insular communities and not bothering with other people, the shifter species isn’t rare. Changbin himself had at least one in his graduating class that he can remember, and went to the Academy with several more.

Felix, however, just shakes his head. “There weren’t any around our territory. Where was I supposed to see one?”

Staring at the undershirt he’s holding, Changbin considers this for a moment before snorting. “Fair enough.”

It’s weird to him, sure, but he’s been a hunter for a while now. You tend to come across a bit of everything in this job. Changbin’s got a list somewhere of species he’s never run into before, but it’s an exceptionally short one. If he hasn’t hunted it, he’s interacted with it. And if he hasn’t done either of those things, there’s probably a pretty good reason for it.

“How often do they go…” Felix gestures loosely.

“Crazy?” Changbin shrugs. “Commonly enough that there’s theoretically a proper way to handle it in the guidebooks.” He hopes it comes across in his tone what he thinks of those damn things. Nothing good, considering how many times he’s had one thrown at his head. “Often enough to be a statistic.”

He notes, as he talks, that Felix looks almost relaxed, lounging against his door frame. He’s still just a little too tensed to be truly comfortable, but he’s definitely not on guard in the same way he usually is. Or even in the same way he was a minute ago. In the grand scheme of things, it’s nothing, but Changbin pays attention anyway. Progress is still progress, even if they’ve moved past the point of it mattering one way or another.

“Anything can be a statistic,” the fae dismisses with a snort. “That doesn’t mean anything.”

“Alright well, let me put it like this. This will be my six- no… Seventeenth vampire I’ll have had to deal with for similar reasons.” Turning, he lifts a brow at Felix. “Not all vampires and all that, but they all have these instincts in them somewhere. It’s just a matter of which ones crack and which ones don’t.”

Chewing at the inside of his lip, Felix finally just twitches his wings and looks at the floor. “I’ll have to see for myself.”

Which is fine by Changbin. Some things, he knows, will always come down to a matter of experience. When you have a narrow view of the world, it’s difficult to see the bigger patterns, the whole ugly picture. Once Felix gets out there and starts going on jobs regularly, he’s going to start to notice a lot of those things that other hunters do.

Is it a little depressing, knowing this job is destined to ruin the people who do it? Maybe. If Changbin were going to get bent out of shape about it, he would have a long time ago.

“You will see,” Changbin promises, shouldering his bag for a second as he mentally judges whether he has enough spare ammunition. If it’s a lone vampire, he shouldn’t need more than one extra box. Chances are, he won’t even touch it. Vampires might be unnaturally quick, but they’re still human shaped most of the time. It’ll only take one good hit to put the creature down.

Glancing back up at the fae, Changbin lifts an eyebrow. “You packed?”

“Working on it,” Felix deadpans, unmoving. “I can handle it on my own.”

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Changbin gives his room one last once over. “I’d say we can wait until tomorrow morning, but there’s an option to take the night train if we get our asses out the door in time.” Snatching up his vest, which is still hanging where he left it a month ago, he quickly pats at his pockets before haphazardly stuffing it into his bag. “Personally, I want to be out of here as soon as possible, even if it’s only a few hours difference either way.”

Rolling it over in his mind, Felix loops one of his longer braids around one narrow finger. “I don’t care when we leave,” he decides, a line appearing between his eyebrows. “It’s not like we’re going sightseeing or something.”

“No,” Changbin agrees with a mirthless laugh. “Imagine, the Bureau paying for us to take a break. Consider this-” He gives a sweep of his hand. “The last break you’ll get for the next couple years. You’re at the whim of higher powers now, but if it makes you feel any better, so am I.”

Felix’s face scrunches up. “That’s not comforting.”

“Eh, worth a shot.” 

In the end, after cajoling Chan into driving them down to the station, Changbin and Felix do end up taking the night train. Though it won’t get them all the way to their destination, and they’ll have to switch trains at least once along the way, it’s still the easiest way to get where they’re going. If this were a more serious job, the Bureau would probably be willing to pay for a flight to where they’re going. But this is a C-class threat, and even if it wasn’t, a plane requires fighting with the airport. Changbin likes to avoid that hassle wherever possible.

No, instead, all he has to do is flash the appropriate paperwork to the station and they’ll find him room in the back of an economy class coach with little to no argument. He’s aware it’s not the most comfortable way to travel, but it beats having to drive the whole way on his own, and better yet, he’s used to it. You can beat a lot of things, but you can’t beat habit.

Besides, Changbin’s always been fond of this specific part of a job. Those hours preceding his arrival, when he has a moment away from the familiar landscape of home to clear his mind. It’s different with company, naturally, but he’s willing to argue that Felix being his partner makes it better than it would be otherwise. At a certain level, they’re just extensions of each other now, that makes the fae’s presence inevitably less obtrusive.

“We’ll have to change trains before we hit the mountains,” Changbin explains to a Felix that doesn’t look entirely present at the moment. “Around Milan. Then it’ll be straight shot down to Rome, where we’ll hit up the NHII outpost on the outskirts of the city and get our hands on a vehicle. We probably won’t be using it in Assisi, hunts happen on foot, but it’ll be good to have transportation for the rest of it.”

Nodding absently, Felix glances out the window of their dimmed train-car window, to the platform below and the people still filing onto the train. The fae’s been quiet ever since getting into the transit, but Changbin can’t necessarily get a read on why. Multiple reasons, he suspects, but he decidedly doesn’t ask.

First time out in public again since being arrested, probably. Running laps around their base back home doesn’t exactly count.

Glancing down at the lockstones clasped around his wrist, Changbin brings them up to his nose and squints at the runes. He can’t read them for shit, that’ll always be Chan’s wheelhouse and he’s perfectly content to let it be, but he has just enough pattern recognition to be able to understand the distance on the spell.

It was all in the paperwork Kangsung had brought with him, presumably, but Changbin hadn’t really read most of it. Besides, there’s nothing on it he can’t find answers for elsewhere.

One mile. Not bad, some people get even less. It is, however, the shortest distance he’s ever had to handle. Junseong, Changbin recalls with a certain amount of amusement, had been given two miles, and even that hadn’t stopped him from triggering his collar once every few weeks. Which was all fun and games until they were on a job together and Changbin went from handling everything just fine to having to dig his partner out of a gutter somewhere. Even after getting used to each other, the blink dog had almost gotten himself killed far too many times to count.

Felix is going to be on a much tighter leash. But on the flip-side, he’s also not nearly as hyperactive. And honestly, Changbin had expected it to be tighter. The only other enforced non-human he can think of who’s doing time for something violent is Taedong, and the hellhound had been given half a mile for much more mild crimes

To give someone like Felix, a fae convicted of manslaughter, an entire mile? The deal they struck in court must have been good. 

Then again, considering how complicated the laws get when they involve fae and humans, maybe it wasn’t as hard as he’s assuming. Either way, he’s not complaining. Felix has proven to be the kind of person who needs space, and Changbin has decided he’s perfectly willing to go along with that, as long as its within reason and he’s not having to deal with any damages.

Part of him is tempted to ask. Logically, he knows that Felix isn’t going to tell him anything, but he still wonders. Wonders what went down in that court room. Wonders what the options presented to Felix had looked like. Wonders how fair it was, or perhaps more accurately, how unfair.

Junseong had been the type of person to never shut up about his trial. Especially since it had happened so recently, it’s all he seemed capable of thinking about. Despite the whole thing being a exceptionally open and shut case, he still found room to critique it. To argue. Even though arguing with Changbin about something the hunter hadn’t been involved with was kind of pointless.

Conversely, Felix hasn’t brought his up once.

Before him, the fae in question clears his throat. Glancing up, Changbin slowly lowers his wrist. “Yes?”

“We’re sleeping here?”

Glancing around them, at the fellow passengers with their neck pillows and glowing phone screens, Changbin finally shrugs. “Depends on how willing you are to sleep in public. But yeah, usually I try to grab a few hours. Especially if we’re doing an overnight trip.” Though Felix doesn’t outwardly pull a face, Changbin can sense the man’s displeasure. Whether that’s through the bond mark, or just because he’s learning to read Felix, he doesn’t think it matters much.

“That sounds uncomfortable.” Which, in Changbin’s mind feels like stating the obvious, but instead of saying that he just snorts and lets his eyes wander towards the tinted window.

“If it makes you feel better, there will be a bed when we get to where we’re going. If not…” He gestures vaguely at himself. “I’ll be here to keep a lookout. If you’re worried somebody’s going to do something to you.”

Though Felix frowns at the particular phrasing, he doesn’t disagree. Changbin imagines that as somebody who didn’t often spend time outside of his very insular community, he’s probably predisposed to be suspicious of strangers. Especially when most of the strangers surrounding them are other humans, or other more standard bestial species that a fae like Felix wouldn’t necessarily be used to.

It doesn’t help that fae don’t typically get along with other species. There’s a reason most of them have sequestered themselves off into their own nations, free of the Bureau and other people in general. Being out here, far away from his own people? It has to be uncomfortable.

 Changbin doesn’t blame the man for being distrustful, but that doesn’t mean he intends to feed into it.

Because in his opinion, the two of them are clearly hunters and therefore not to be bothered. Or at least, he’s clearly a hunter. He’s got too many visible scars for him to be marked as anything else. And even if that wasn’t enough, he’s currently wearing a Bureau issued jacket. The prominent NHII insignia is enough to deter most people from even basic conversation, let alone outright harassment. Felix may not feel secure, but Changbin does. And once the fae starts carrying himself like a hunter as well, he’ll also be less likely to run into trouble.

One of the few perks of the job, but you have to enjoy them where they come.

“I’ll stay awake,” Felix finally says, like his decision to do so wasn’t already clear.

“Suit yourself.” Shrugging, Changbin adjusts how he’s sitting before fiddling his sweater out of his bag to use as a pillow. “I’m going to try and get some sleep.” After all, even if they’re likely to have some time to sleep at the hotel before they actually have to do any work, they’re still going to be stuck traveling all day. It’s late, and he wants to be at least mostly aware of his surroundings for the journey. Now is his moment to decompress.

Felix watches him dubiously as he settles down, but Changbin doesn’t pay the attention much mind. All it really takes is him stretching out over the empty seats beside him for his body’s natural urge to sleep to take over. Decidedly, he doesn’t fight it. It’s rare that rest comes easy, you learn to accept it when it does.

Though he hadn’t expected anything one way or another, Changbin finds his sleep more restful than he thinks it would have been otherwise without Felix there. Not necessarily because of the man himself, no, he attributes it completely to the magic of the bond mark. Subconscious reassurance that someone is there to watch over him even if that’s not entirely true. Changbin’s never found sleeping on public transport particularly hard, but he’s willing to admit that it’s easier with a partner. 

Even if Felix is the last person who’d be concerned about something happening to him while he’s sleeping. The brain works in funny ways like that.

When he wakes again, sometime just after dawn, he actually feels rested. Sure, he’s got cramps in his legs and his neck is a little sore, but it’s a whole lot better than nothing, and at least it had been straight sleep. 

Felix is staring out the window once more when Changbin straightens and picks his clothes back into place. They’re currently passing through open fields, nothing but crops hemming them in on either side. Changbin doesn’t even know what country they’re currently in, but he imagines it doesn’t matter. They aren’t where they need to be, that’s the only thing worth noting.

After a certain point the superfluous details stop being interesting.

The fae though… he seems interested. He’s watching the scenery pass by with genuine focus, completely oblivious at this point to what’s happening inside the train around him. Every now and then, his eyes will twitch to something in particular, and Changbin can’t help but hone in on those tiny reactions, the way Felix’s expression shifts and changes by increments.

Honestly, Changbin can’t remember the last time he actually paid attention to something like what was passing by outside the train windows. Void knows he’s been traveling for ages now. Long enough that he’s deeply familiar with this rail line. Long enough that he knows the stops it makes, and has memorized the specific intonations of the voice that announces what stop they’re coming up on. This part is no longer interesting, so he’s long since stopped looking. For Felix though, it’s new.

Shaking off those remaining threads of sleep, Changbin glances out his own window again. It looks like the same field he’s seen hundreds of times before. There’s nothing remarkable about it whatsoever. How Felix looks at it with such well-concealed wonder is beyond him.

A question forms in his mind, and his mouth opens before he’s really thought it through.

“Where were you from?”

To his credit, Felix doesn’t jump. Unfortunately, the moment the question leaves his mouth, he sees the fae’s guard come back up. Instinctively, if nothing else. 

“I’m sure you already know,” Felix mutters, trying and failing to tear his eyes away from the window.

“I don’t,” Changbin states flatly, crossing his arms over his chest. “That’s why I asked.”

Shifting in his seat and twitching his wings, just enough for it to be noticeable, Felix’s frown deepens. “The mountains.”

Changbin resists the urge to sigh. Which mountains, he wants to ask, with a certain amount of impatience. Where are those mountains? What are they like? He’s been to many mountain ranges in his time, few of them are similar, none are exactly the same. He’s trying to get an idea of why Felix might be staring at these open plains with such interest, but…

My fault for expressing any sort of curiosity about him, I guess.

Maybe some of that instinctive bitterness catches in their shared bond, because Felix finally glances over at him. “Didn’t my-” He flounders for a second. “My file say anything about where I came from?”

It had, technically, but Changbin isn’t really looking for a cut and dry location. Sure, he could place the mountain Felix is from on a map, if given a map of the region and enough time. Yes, he could have done his own research into that place. He hasn’t done either. He’d rather it come straight from the horse’s mouth. Or, in this case, the fae’s mouth.

“Humor me,” he insists, leaning back in his seat. “I don’t exactly go into protected fae territory often. Most people don’t.”

That earns him a little twist of the mouth and a dismissive breath, but Felix doesn’t tell him to fuck off. Instead, he just turns back to the window and purses his lips.

“It’s pretty,” he admits, in a particular way that implies he thinks most other places don’t quite compare. “Lots of flowers. At least, during the spring.”

It’s a sparse answer, without any specifics that might have actually told him something. I guess that’s fine. Admittedly, Felix doesn’t owe Changbin a detailed recount of his homeland. If he wants to learn more, he can theoretically just look it up.

The longer he sits there and thinks, the more he’s able to remember from Felix’s file. Technically, Changbin knows that Felix is from a specific part of southern China. It’s a sliver of mountain range that was long ago carved out particularly for the spring fae. If given some time, he could roughly map out where those boundary lines lie, he could describe to you the basics of how the laws governing and protecting that area operate. But that doesn’t mean he knows anything about it.

That raw data that had meant very little to him when he read it, and honestly it means very little now. Still, it gives him something to work off of, and considering he has nothing else, he’ll make do.

“Not used to scenery like this?”

“No,” Felix mutters. After a moment, spent surreptitiously watching Changbin out of the corner of his eye, almost like he’s waiting to see if the man intends to back down or simply drop the matter, the everflower finally elaborates. “I didn’t get out much.”

Something tells Changbin there’s more to that statement than is immediately apparent. Just as obviously, the man doesn’t seem inclined to talk about it. Decidedly Changbin doesn’t make him. “Yeah, before this job, neither did I.”

Blinking, like he hadn’t expected that, Felix’s naturally suspicious expression loosens. “I– I always wanted to.” He taps his finger on the windowsill in a measured rhythm. His eyes shift, first over the train compartment, then over Changbin, before finally making their way back to the window. “It’s difficult to find that kind of opportunity.”

It’s more of an answer than Changbin expected, but he decides not to squander the opportunity. As little as he actually cares about the fae, he’s at least a little curious. They’re bonded after all. It would be more strange for him not to be interested. “Fae don’t usually travel, do they?”

The guarded look lingers behind Felix’s multicolored eyes, but it doesn’t quite kindle back to life. “No, not typically. Not unless–” His lips purse and he shakes his head. “That doesn’t mean that some of us don’t want to.”

And you were one of them. Changbin manages a thin half-smile. “Well, you get your chance now. There’s a lot of world to explore out there, and you’re probably going to see way more of it than you actually want to.”

Briefly, Felix’s eyes crinkle at the corners. “I’ll let you know when I get tired of it.”

He definitely doesn’t get tired of it on this particular trip. Now that Changbin clearly knows he’s staring, and has at least expressed tacit understanding for why he’s doing it, he seems more inclined to just openly marvel. Just admire the sights and absorb every little thing they pass. He does it for the rest of the train ride, right up until their first stop, and then he continues after they board their next train.

Without question, Changbin makes sure he gets a window seat.

It’s… well, it’s endearing. In a way that he didn’t expect he’d ever apply to the fae. He’s used to seeing Felix as being, if not a threatening presence, then a presence to be wary of. To respect, in the way one predator respects another. The man is a traditionally dangerous creature, he typically wants to keep an eye on those, even if they’re not doing anything harmful at the moment.

But he isn’t seeing Felix as a potential threat right now. Instead, he’s just seeing the man’s genuine enjoyment of the world around him. Where for a moment he’s accidentally let his guard down and is just experiencing the world around him.

There’s something refreshing about it. Changbin hasn’t bothered to do anything similar in so long that he honestly doesn’t think he has it in him anymore. But at least someone does. At least  not everybody is nearly as tired and old as he is.

The two of them end up traveling for most of the day. They’re on the train until at least four in the afternoon, after which Changbin insists they quickly find food before doing anything else. After that, it’s a brief stint in a taxi to the nearest NHII outpost.

The two of them get an expected number of strange looks from their cabbie, who seems just as interested in the fact they’re hunters at all as he is in the fact he has a fae in his backseat. But Changbin and Felix don’t offer any explanations, and the man clearly doesn’t dare ask. Most people don’t. Everyone knows just enough about hunters to know they’re usually best left to their own devices.

Understandably, Felix’s vaguely good mood evaporates once they actually reach the NHII facility. Changbin can see it on the fae’s face; the tightening of his mouth, the hardening of his eyes, and the slight clenching his jaw. He goes from curious about their surroundings to on guard and clearly ready for a fight. 

Thankfully, he knows enough not to try and pick one, but he doesn’t get any less jumpy. Even when Changbin offers to take care of this part on his own.

“You’re not leaving me out here,” Felix states, his eyes narrowed at the front doors.

“I was trying to help, but okay.” Shaking his head, Changbin casts a weary glance of his own at the familiar facade of the building before looking back at Felix. “I’m not going to stop you from coming.”

“Good.” The fae’s tone is downright venomous.

“Look,” Changbin mutters as he swings his duffel bag over his shoulder. “It’s for ten minutes tops. You can handle it.”

Scowling at him, Felix grunts, “I never said I couldn’t. You’re the one who seems to think I can’t.”

“Yeah, well you have a look on your face.” Shrugging, Changbin starts towards the door. “Just don’t stab anybody. Not until we’re actually hunting the vampire.”

Felix’s displeasure is evident at that, but he doesn’t openly argue. He just shoulders his own bag and quietly follows Changbin into the facility.

The building itself stands out like a sore thumb, given the picturesque nature of the rest of the city they’re stopped in. While all of the other buildings are at least trying to blend in to the existing architecture, the NHII outpost is a gray concrete brick. It’s stocky, it’s ugly, it’s only barely functional, and it bears the familiar logo of the clasped hands set over a spiral that’s clearly been spray-painted and then half-painted over on the side of the building.

All in all, it looks like every other NHII outpost on the planet. It’s almost impressive how uniform they’ve managed to keep them. You’d think that, over time, the styles would have evolved and changed. That things would have been updated. Newer facilities would be made and remodeled. You would be wrong. Because if the Bureau has one motto that they will always stand by, it’s if they don’t have to spend money on it, they’re not going to.

These buildings work, they’ve worked since they were first installed. No one is going to change them or the blueprint.

While Changbin can’t say he’s a fan of them, not in any common understanding of the word, he will argue that it’s settling to see something, so predictable. When he walks in through the double doors, it’s that same, off-white linoleum counter that greets him, the same uniform that all the NHII-employed paper pushers wear, and the same depressingly fake potted plant sitting between the uncomfortable plastic chairs in the waiting room. You can count the same number of analog clocks mounted to the walls, and oftentimes, the official who greets you looks like every other official who has interacted with you at any of the other little outposts.

It’s routine, and there’s something to be said for that normalcy when everything else about your life could be considered too exciting.

Unfortunately, that sense of predictability is marred somewhat by Felix’s reactions to place. He hesitates when stepping through the door. He specifically moves to keep his back to the exit and his eyes trained on the other people in the room. His center of mass lowers slightly. He’s careful to keep his dominant hand free, like he’s waiting for something to happen.

Glancing to his side, Changbin makes brief eye-contact with Felix before jerking his head in the direction of the plastic chairs. Better the man sits down and chills out than follows Changbin to the desk and makes a fool of himself. Better that he just stays out of the way if he doesn’t need to get involved.

As he expects, however, Felix’s mouth simply tightens and he glares in Changbin’s direction. No easy way out then. Right. Well, better get this over with, then.

Before Changbin has a chance to clear his throat, the man behind the desk looks up at him.

“We need a vehicle.” Changbin decides to cut right to the chase. “We’re going to need it for two- maybe three days at most. Heading north to Assisi.”

“Name, leader, and designation?” The bored paper pusher asks, sizing Changbin up first before looking behind him at Felix. Changbin doesn’t miss the little twitch of the man’s eyebrows as he catches sight of the fae. Quickly, he redirects the man’s attention.

“Seo Changbin. Leader is Bang Chan. Designation is eliminations for the central European regional team.”

Fingers flying over his keyboard, the paper pusher nods slowly before clicking at a few things with his mouse. “A C-class threat. For someone of your rank?”

Changbin gives a man a humorless smile. “Training. For my new partner.”

Slowly, man glances behind Changbin again at Felix. You can practically see the moment his eyes light on the collar and everything seems to fall into place within his mind.

“Right. Training.” His snort is derogatory.

Though he doesn’t openly say what he’s clearly thinking, it still gets Changbin’s hackles up. It’s one thing for him to have opinions about his partner. Or even for the rest of his team to have opinions about Felix. It’s quite another for a paper pusher to have opinions. If the man had dared to be more direct, Changbin would have openly told him to fuck off. As it is, he just curls his upper lip and attempts another smile. “The vehicle?”

“Right. Yeah, we’ve got something. Give me a moment.” Fishing for the ancient printer beside his elbow, the paper pusher pulls out a number of forms and passes them to Changbin before getting to his feet. “I’ll be back in a second.”

“So you’re all just universally assholes,” Felix mutters, drawing up close behind Changbin as the hunter mutters and grumbles his way through signing the familiar paperwork.

“When it comes to paper pushers,” Changbin grunts as he signs his name at the bottom of the last form. “Yes. Get used to it.”

“I wasn’t talking about-” Frowning, Felix shakes his head. “Yeah, so far, they’ve been awful.”

If nothing else, that’s something they can agree on. Changbin has had years of experience with these people, and he says that in the most derogatory sense possible. While he appreciates that there are jobs that the Bureau needs done that he cannot do, doesn’t want to do, and probably wouldn’t qualify for in the first place, that doesn’t mean he has to like the people who do them. The lower-level bureaucrats of the NHII and the Bureau are, in general, well renowned for being dismissive and disrespectful of hunters at the best of times. At their worst, they’re downright vindictive.

If Changbin never had to deal with another one again, he’d be better off for it.

Thankfully, their stint at the facility isn’t particularly long. Considering the fact that time is theoretically of the essence, they’re given keys to one of the Bureau owned vehicles out back and hustled along on their way in less than fifteen minutes. Changbin takes a moment to make sure the vehicle in question isn’t one of the few that’s basically falling apart at the seams, before loading their bags into it and hassling Felix into the car as well.

Decisively, Changbin drives and Felix takes shotgun. The fae doesn’t even offer to drive instead, which is good, because Changbin would have absolutely said no.

Technically, there are rules about what enforced non-humans are and are not allowed to do. Driving is one of them. At least, when it comes to Bureau-owned vehicles. Personal vehicles, if you’re fancy or stupid enough to have them, are a different story. But at least here, in theory, Felix isn’t allowed to drive.

In practice, Changbin doesn’t give a fuck. At least, not about the Bureau’s rules. He does, however, still have the lingering idea that he probably shouldn’t hand a motor vehicle over to Felix. He’s not even sure if the fae can drive, let alone if he trusts him enough to find out.

I should stop thinking like that, he’s my partner now.

Actually, Changbin expects that’s going to become a bigger issue. Or at the very least, something he thinks about more than not at all. Before, it was pretty straightforward. He didn’t trust Felix, not with anything terribly important, and he was content to keep the man at arm’s length, even when they were getting along. But now, they’re partners. Tied at the hip, whether he wants them to be or not. 

Mentally, he’s predisposed not to trust Felix. Emotionally, however, something’s telling him he has to. It’s an interesting combination, considering how they were before.

He tries not to dwell on it though. He’s got a drive ahead of him- about an hour and a half before they get to their destination- and he’s got to stay focused for it. While the nap on the train had been good, he’s already feeling the travel exhaustion starting to kick in. Hopefully, if he can get them to the hotel on time, they’ll be able to nap before they’re expected to be out on the field working. 

Hopefully.

For better or for worse, Felix doesn’t make conversation on the trip. He just keeps his nose glued to the window and stays quiet. Changbin decides he doesn’t mind. The silence is companionable, or if not companionable then at least not hostile. He’s already slipping into his work mindset, so undue chatter probably wouldn’t be welcomed in the first place. This is fine.

It really hasn’t been that long since he last did a job with a partner. Two months might be a decent chunk of time, but Changbin’s gone years without a partner before. This is, he thinks, his quickest turnaround. Traditionally, the Bureau is supposed to give you at least six months before handing you a new partner. Just to let the residual magic of the broken bond die down

Some people have shit luck with that. The Bureau will keep them partnered whether they like it or not; whether they’re ready for it or not. And some people, like Changbin, usually get a little bit more leeway. He’d never suggest the Bureau respects him, or cares one way or another about his physical and mental limitations, but by chance, he usually gets a break.

He hadn’t gotten a break this time, but technically, that haven’t been the Bureau’s fault. This time, it’d been Chan. And, to a lesser extent, Junhyung.

Does he mind? Before, when he’d been fighting with Felix, he’d minded quite a lot. Now, as he drives through the Italian countryside with the fae sitting quietly beside him, he thinks he minds a little less.

Or is that the magic? He’s always going to wonder if it’s the magic.

The drive doesn’t turn out to be quite as painful as he had feared. The time passes quickly, they don’t even have to make any stops along the way. Before they know it, they’re pulling into the peaceful little town of Assisi. 

Town might be the wrong word for it, small city is probably more accurate, but Changbin has certainly been in places that are far more bustling than this. That being said, it’s still a bit of a pain in the ass to navigate.

As he struggles with back roads and one way streets, he has Felix send an email to the nearby NHII facility down here, asking about where they’re saying. Five minutes later, they have a hotel confirmation number and a location. Which in Changbin’s mind, is good enough for him.

It’s a small hotel, nothing fancy. Nothing the Bureau ever springs for is. Still, it’s not the worst place he’s ever stayed. And the people there seem nice enough. The felids manning the reception desk are remarkably polite, and don’t ask many questions when they see two hunters step through their doors. There is, inevitably, a slight hiccup, but nothing that can’t be solved.

“A single room?” Changbin gives the girl behind the desk a weary look. “With… one bed.”

Felix’s head jerks around sharply. “We need two beds,” he states flatly, staring at Changbin like this is his fault.

The woman behind the desk gives a shrug, her twitching ears betraying her annoyance at Felix’s sharp tone. “Sorry sirs. That’s what your company booked you.”

“Can we change it?” Changbin ventures with a grimace, already anticipating the answer. I’ll sleep on the floor if necessary, there’s no way I’m getting into a bed with Felix.

“I can see if I have anything available,” the felid offers, in a tone that suggests she knows she doesn’t. “But you’ll be paying for it yourself.”

Slowly, her coworker leans over. “There’s a couch in the room,” she informs Changbin, her tail twitching.

“You know what, that’s perfect,” Changbin decides, not wanting to bother the poor staff anymore than he already has. “We’ll figure it out.”

“I’m not sleeping on the couch,” Felix grumbles, already glaring at Changbin suspiciously.

“Well,” Changbin mutters as he picks up his bag once more and takes the room key from the receptionist. “Luckily for you, I wasn’t going to suggest you did. I was going to take it. But if I were you, I’d get used to a lot worse than couches. Trust me.”

Felix’s takes a moment to pull a face, but he doesn’t argue further. Probably, it’s because he knows Changbin is right.

The room itself is small, but clean. Perfectly functional for what they need it to be. The couch ends up being a pullout, and the bed doesn’t really look much more comfortable than it is, so Changbin doesn’t feel particularly shafted. He’s just thankful he has a room. Sometimes, the Bureau’s answer to accommodations is handing you a camping set and telling you to figure it the fuck out. This, at least, is civilized.

“So, what’s the… the plan,” Felix asks, sitting on the edge of the bed and picking at his stiff uniform as he does.

“Well, it’s a vampire, so chances are it’ll be easier to hunt at night.” Changbin gives the window a quick glance. “It’s about… four? Right now, so we’ll wait until dusk, then we’ll hit up the district group that’s nearby. I’ll get whatever information they have, and then–” He shrugs. “It’s going to be a long night.”

Felix shifts on the bed. If Changbin hadn’t been so closely tied to the man, he would’ve thought that he looks nervous. As it is, he thinks the word that comes to mind is restless. Ready to be out there. Tired of sitting in houses, trains, and cars. Excited to be doing something for once.

“And when we find him, we kill him?”

Changbin’s mouth twitches. “If he comes at you, yes. Most likely though, I’ll be the one doing the eliminating.” Reaching for his bag, he pulls out his gun case, and after fiddling the lock combination into it, he pops it open and frees Gloria. “Like I said before, I’m used to doing this alone. I don’t necessarily need help.”

“We’re partners.”

“Technically, yes.” Swiftly, Changbin pops the waiting magazine into Gloria. “In the field, you’ve never done this before, and it’s up to me to make sure you stay safe. And make sure the job actually gets done.”

Felix’s multicolored eyes narrow, catching Changbin’s and holding them. There’s something there, something that lingers like a fog, but it’s gone before Changbin can identify it. “Alright.” Getting to his feet, Felix shakes out his wings and steps towards their small bathroom. “Try not to fuck up your job.”

With that, he disappears.

 

᚛ᚒᚖᚒ᚜

Notes:

Not me planning on adding an extra four chapters just so I can squish an extra job into here where I don't need one.

Chapter 12: Ignobility

Notes:

I be writing

Enjoy~

  ᚛ᚒᚖᚒ᚜

 

“So what exactly happened?”

“It’s a long story.”

The base of the local NHII team in Assisi isn’t so much a base as it is a second story office space that’s been gutted, remodeled, remodeled again, and eventually just given up on. There’s no fewer than seventeen filing cabinets lining the back wall, several bookshelves that are all overflowing with volumes both ancient and modern, and an ill-organized rack of gear that’s been haphazardly put up seemingly in the first place they found where it fit. The rest of the floorspace, meanwhile, has been taken up by a smattering of desks that have been carefully tetrised together to leave ‘viable’ walking paths available.

All in all, it’s a pretty standard setup for a local team.

Currently, Changbin is talking to one of the humans on the team, someone introduced to him as Takuto. The kid- for that’s what he looks like- is short and baby-faced, probably freshly graduated, if he’d attended the Academy at all. He doesn’t look like a hunter, but a lot of people on local teams don’t. Typically, if you’re stationed in a quiet, relatively peaceful area, you don’t need to be some tough, battle-hardened warrior. You’re allowed to be a normal person.

Still, it’s always a little strange for Changbin to come into contact with someone like Takuto. He just looks so innocent. Soft and a bit squishy, like he’d bounce if you threw him down the stairs. His Mandarin is bad, Italian slipping out more often than not before being quickly corrected. Even though they work for the same organization, and bear roughly the same title, they couldn’t be more different.

That assessment is further proven when the kid launches into his story, his words popping out of his mouth almost too fast for Changbin to keep up with them.

“We were all shocked he lost it, you know? I swear, I’ve known Jiho-ssi my entire life. He’s not like this! He’s always been so mannered and polite. He even helped us with some cases last year, remember that?” His question is tossed to a canid in the back of the room, one who startles when he realizes he’s being addressed.

“Yeah, a couple.” The canid’s accent is thick, difficult to completely parse. “He chipped in on a few before you got here too. Jiho’s been around for a while.” Scratching behind a floppy ear, the man’s eyes drift back to a spot somewhere behind Changbin. “None of us saw this coming.”

“Exactly!” Takuto bounces on the balls of his feet. “But yeah, one day he just snapped. And we thought, hey, maybe if we bring him in and have a little chat with him, we can get things resolved. You know how a lot of assault charges against vampires go. But no, nothing from him but dead air.” Wincing, he adds, “And then he attacked a second person, and at that point…”

“Something has to happen,” Changbin agrees, privately wondering how anyone could look at the first vampire attack and think they deserved a ‘second chance’.

Of course, some people have no such reservations in voicing their opinions.

“So he attacked someone and you just let him walk away?”

Felix is still standing by the door, exactly where Changbin left him when they first walked up here. Though up until now he’s remained completely silent, he’s definitely drawn the eyes of the other hunters currently clustered in the office, humans and non-humans alike. He’s who the canid Takuto addressed earlier had been staring at. And he’s exactly the part of all of this Changbin has been trying to avoid.

Unfortunately, he can’t do that any longer.

“Hey, it’s not ignoring,” another one of the hunters in the room states, bristling right back at Felix’s tone of voice. “Vampire attacks aren’t always attacks. Sometimes people just sign up for a little more than they bargained for and try to make a stink about it.”

“And Jiho’s never done anything like this before,” the canid pipes up, his brows knotting together. “Don’t think he’s used a blood bank in years, but we’ve never heard a complaint about him up until now.”

“Right, which justifies ignoring a crime,” Felix snipes back, his wings shivering against his back with an unsettling rattle.

“If you’d fucking listen,” the hunter snaps, tensing in his chair like he’s half contemplating getting up. “You’d know that we didn’t ignore it, we just didn’t instantly go and jump down someone’s throat. He was a friend.”

“Guys-” Takuto tries valiantly, wringing his hands nervously.

“And all it takes is making friends with a hunter for them to wave shit away.” Felix bares his teeth, and something about the poor lighting in the base makes them look sharper than usual. “A lot of stuff is starting to make sense.”

“You’ve got a collar around your neck, fae, I don’t think we need to listen to your opinion on anything!”

Changbin’s threadbare patience wears through. “He has a name.”

At his sharp tone, the room falls silent. He may not have direct jurisdiction here, but he’s several ranks above the other men in this room, and they know it. Especially when he stares at the man who specifically drew his ire for a full ten seconds, long enough to let the nature of their positions sink in. 

Sufficiently cowed, the hunter who’d spoken sits back in his chair, his lips tightly pursed. Even Felix shuts his mouth, though it looks like it takes him a lot of willpower to do so.

Almost at once, Takuto scurries between Changbin and the rest of his team, a conciliatory expression on his face. “I’m… sorry, this has had us on edge. We’re not trying to be rude, I promise.”

Staring at the man, Changbin resists the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. Instead, he crosses his arms over his chest. “Are you the leader of this team?”

Takuto pulls a face. “No, that’d be Anthonny-hyung.”

“And he’s not here because…”

“He’s the one Jiho attacked,” the canid pipes up, after no one else volunteers the information.

If nothing else, that unintentionally answers a few of the questions Changbin hadn’t planned on asking. Like why this team seems so disorganized, and why they’d left someone like Takuto in charge of anything. Drawing in a deep breath, Changbin reorders his thoughts before casting a surreptitious look behind him at Felix.

The fae looks downright murderous at the moment. His muscles are tensed, his wings are half-extended, and his eyes are blazing, but at least he’s not actively trying to attack anyone. As much as Changbin’s willing to jump into a fight to protect someone who’s his partner, he doesn’t want to fight another hunter. Even one who’s being an asshole.

Just hold out for a little longer, we’ll be out of here and back on the street before you know it.

Letting out a breath, Changbin refocuses on Takuto. “Just finish the story, alright?”

Seemingly thankful that a crisis has been averted, Takuto launches into the rest of his story with renewed gusto. “We scared Jiho-ssi enough he took to the sewers,” he says, blessedly getting to the point. “At which point we called in our district team, who sent in a pair to help flush him out. Anthonny-hyung and Haruto-hyung went with them, but-”

“Didn’t go well,” finishes Haruto, from where he’s sat silently at what looks like the leader’s usual desk. Twitching one fuzzy ear, the ursid mutters. “I should have seen it coming, but I genuinely thought Jiho would hesitate more than that.”

Shifting his stance, attempting to be a bit less openly guarded, Changbin’s eyes drift to the wall of hunter’s gear. “Unfortunately once a non-human like that snaps, there’s not much you can do to bring them back.”

“I guess,” Takuto mumbles, wilting where he stands.

Clearing his throat, the canid in the back says, “Look, I know neither of you particularly care one way or another about this, but it’s a damn shame to us that Jiho would lose it like this. We know what you’re here to do, so… make it quick, I guess.”

Mouth twitching, Changbin stares at the man. “That’s entirely up to your vampire friend.”

“He’s not a friend anymore,” Haruto states firmly, his face contorting bitterly as he says it. “He might have been at one point, but that was my partner he hospitalized. If he wanted to make this clean and easy, he should have taken the chances we gave him.”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” Changbin mutters.

Though it’s difficult to get anything out of the local team quickly, Changbin does manage to acquire a rough idea of the last places this feral vampire was last seen. He’s also given several suggestions of where to best enter the sewers, as well as some half-hearted descriptions of how his target used to behave. Before he went crazy. It’s not much, but he’s been sent out on hunts with far less, so he decides to take it.

By the time he finally gets out of the base and back onto the street, Changbin’s feeling antsy, but thankfully, he gets to actually work now, and that’s guaranteed to make it better.

Outside is much cooler now that the sun has set than it was crammed into their tiny hotel room. Though he’s been all over Europe- and at this point most of the world- for this job, Changbin has certain places he just finds better than others. Small cities like this one, that are old and slow and relatively quiet, are always going to be his favorite. Sure, he’s here to kill a vampire, but he can still take a moment to appreciate the little things.

Like the rumble of distant vehicles, and the music drifting out of upper apartment windows, thrown open to allow what breeze there is to circulate. Out here, the light pollution is low enough to allow a handful of stars to poke through above them, and without a high concentration of magic in the area, the air is easier to breathe. 

This is the closest he ever feels to true freedom.

Glancing sideways at his partner, Changbin spends a second looking the man over. He’s finally put his hair up, in a ponytail that doesn’t do much to protect the long violet locks, but is better than letting it hang free. With it out of the way, it’s easier to see the angles of his face. To appreciate exactly how sharp his eyes are; how precise his features.

Felix looks surprisingly good in his uniform, with his hunter’s leathers and his standard issue jacket with its wing-accommodating design. It’s all definitely still stiff, sharp across his shoulders and crisp in the cuffs, not to mention far too clean considering their job, but those are things that’ll fade with time. Just like the fae’s clear discomfort at being on a hunt at all.

Eying the man’s posture and the tension around his jaw, Changbin is glad to note Felix is finally settling down. Now that they’re not cooped up in that office space, he looks less like he’s about to bite someone, though he still doesn’t look happy. Understandable, I guess. If he’d been openly disrespected like that- 

Except no one has tried to talk down to Changbin in years, so maybe he doesn’t actually know what he’d do in the first place.

He clicks his tongue. Instantly, Felix swivels to face him.

“Thank you for not causing a scene up there,” Changbin mutters, looking away so he can squint down at the physical map Takuto had handed him. It’s not useless, far from it, but it is a pain to look at when you’re working off of street lights and illuminated windows. “You… would have been within your rights, considering they’re technically a lower rank than you, but-”

“Is it true?” Changbin falls silent as Felix’s voice cuts through his. “Do you hunters just… just overlook shit if someone is close to you. Is that literally all it takes?”

Changbin’s mouth tightens. “We don’t overlook killing someone.”

“I wasn’t fucking talking about myself.”

Slowly, Changbin brings his head up and meets Felix’s eyes. They almost glow, he's staring so fiercely; blues and greens and purples and maybe even some pink all blending together. Blinking, Changbin focuses on the rest of the fae’s expression, on the snarl threatening his upper lip, and the pull of the tendons in his neck.

He could dismiss the man. But that’s his partner now, and maybe he owes Felix some effort.

“Hunters are people too,” he says, refolding the map as he does. “Sometimes we make the wrong call.”

Felix sneers. “It’s that simple, isn’t it?”

“I don’t agree with how they handled this situation,” Changbin states flatly, unwilling to let Felix get under his skin when this doesn’t really have anything to do with him. “They should have at least followed protocol, and if they didn’t want to do that, they shouldn’t have given this vampire time to go underground.”

Audibly, the fae grinds his teeth.

“But-” Changbin continues, tucking the map into one of the waterproof pockets of his vest. “Even if I did agree with them, they paid their price by seeing their leader severely injured. And I can bet he’s paying his own price for that lapse in judgment.”

“It’s fine as long as someone pays?” Felix asks, the anger ebbing out of his voice, leaving bitterness in its wake.

“They won’t do it again, will they?” Changbin smiles mirthlessly. “And we’re going to be killing the vampire, which is a little worse than a slap on the wrist, I think.”

Considering it, Felix scuffs at the ground with a foot before spreading his wings and hopping into the air. “Yeah, I guess.” He doesn’t sound at all convinced, but Changbin lets it slide. It’s not his job to give this man the correct opinions about the work they do. All he’s really capable of is explaining the parts he understands.

Admittedly, as they set out onto the street in the direction of Jiho’s old haunt, Changbin thinks he does understand. After all, Chan and Jisung are both the types to intentionally or indirectly make a lot of friends. Even Changbin has picked up a handful, here and there. Inevitably, a few of those hunters and non-humans end up being bad eggs. And sometimes, when you hear the rumors, you let it go in one ear and out the other, instead of looking into it.

It’s easier to say it’s not your business and move on. Or pretend that you’re too busy to go digging. Hunters all have their quirks, after all, and you don’t have to understand every piece of it to respect it, right? Even when it nosedives out of being a quirk and straight into being a full blown problem.

Sometimes, you can get away with a little blissful ignorance. And sometimes, you get news that someone you knew is being court-martialed. And if you’re exceptionally unlucky, you might even get asked for testimony. They call it a game of chance, but maybe if hunters paid a little more attention, they’d see more of it coming.

Maybe it’s not the same. There’s a difference between a colleague and a civilian. Except Changbin doesn’t get the opportunity to go around befriending civilians, so in his mind, it’s as close as he’s going to get. 

In that way, Felix might have a point when he calls it just that easy. Because it is. Hunters absolutely have blind-spots. You see less and less of it, the further up the chain you go. By the time you hit specialists, the only people you’re turning a blind eye to are people on your team, but they all have their shortcomings. Sure, Changbin can’t imagine letting a civilian get away with something like assault just because he’d been friendly with them, but if it were Jisung, or Hyunjin, or Chan… And void knows none of them would be able to stop Seungmin.

Shaking his head, he presses ahead, letting the buzz of wings nearby confirm for him that Felix is following.

Despite it not being the best lead they have, Changbin still wants to go poke through the vampire’s old place of residence. Chances are, he hasn’t been back there since losing it. Most of the time, crazed vampires go as far down as they can, getting out of the sunlight and preferably to somewhere damp. But there’s always the possibility this one went home, to gather personal belongings in a moment of relative lucidity.

Judging by the state of the tiny, basement apartment, however, Changbin doubts it. What’s left of it is more or less a crime scene, one he only gets into because Takuto gave him the key. It’s a mess of old blood, police tape, and the clear signs of more than one struggle. Probably from the first few victims, before the vampire fled.

Much like with the local hunter base, Felix stands in the doorway rather than going in after Changbin. His face is contorted in disgust, however, and he’s taking in what he can see like it personally offended him.

“They overlooked this.”

Glancing at several smeared, bloody hand prints along the far wall, Changbin grimaces. “I doubt they were overlooking anything by the time they started poking around here.”

Shifting, wings clicking, Felix looks like he’s debating taking a step inside, only to hesitate and stay where he is. “How many people has this vampire killed?”

“Reports said only three, but there have been thirteen known victims.” As he picks over the scattered bits and bobs that had decorated the man’s shelves, Changbin wrinkles his nose at the vague stench of rot that’s starting to linger within the room. “When they go blood-crazed, they gorge themselves. I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s out tonight looking for more food. Even though I doubt it’s still hungry.”

“It,” Felix repeats.

Turning, Changbin frowns. “It’s an animal at this point, Felix. Nothing more. Sure, it might be able to talk to us, but any ability to be rational is gone. So yes, it.”

Rolling it over in his head, the fae narrows his eyes, like he wants to push further, but Changbin doesn’t give him the opportunity. Instead, he goes back to picking over the house, looking for anything that could be important. Obviously, he’s not going to find any good ideas of where the creature went, but if he’s lucky, he could find other important info. Like if the vampire has a penchant for carrying weapons on him, or if he has any magic.

With a little work, he’ll be able to track the man just fine. The complex charms Chan gave him nearly a decade ago haven’t failed him yet. But there’s always going to be information you can only find if you do a little seemingly inconsequential digging.

Wandering deeper into the apartment, away from Felix, Changbin pokes through what was likely once the vampire’s bedroom. Much like the living room, this area too is soaked in blood, though it seems to be older. Not by much, but enough that the browns are stronger, and the smell is more rancid. He’s not really paying attention to that, however. Instead, his eyes are drawn to the side table, and what looks to be some classic signs of elemental magic.

Though the blood makes it hard to smell any magic residue that could be lingering in the air, he’s immediately able to pick out the concentric circles woven into the grain of the table. That, along with the mostly evaporated basin of murky water and the various jars of much cleaner fluid, tell him all he needs to know.

Water magic.  

Edging closer, Changbin’s eyes pass over the gathered supplies a second time. All things considered, it hasn’t been that long since he’s seen a similar setup. His last partner always kept his talismans and focuses a lot cleaner than this, but that doesn’t make it any less familiar. Though Changbin’s never managed elemental magic, despite the mandatory basic courses he was forced to take, that doesn’t mean he can’t name every single item that’s sitting on this table.

There aren’t any rain focuses, but he spots two different purification talismans and one macramé net tying seven chunks of limestone together. Logically, he doesn’t want to put his hands anywhere near someone else’s magic supplies, but still his fingers itch. He might not be able to smell the elemental magic in the air, but he swears when he inhales there’s a damp heaviness behind the rot and blood. Like a memory of the sea.

Staring into the nearly empty basin, Changbin counts the concentric grooves in the stone, up until they disappear into the muck in the bottom. Six, though he suspects there’s a seventh hidden. Jun’s magic left twelves everywhere, power strong enough that the Bureau decided the selkie could survive being Changbin’s partner. Before the man, he’d never noticed those subtle distinctions in elemental magic, but now, he naturally seeks them out.

It’s been a long time since he actively thought about his previous partner. Long, of course, being a relative term. The man stormed out on him roughly three months ago, but it’s impressive how little Changbin’s actually thought about it. For maybe two or three days after it happened, it was all he could think about. After that?

Just another unfortunate occurrence, really. The bond breaking that succeeded it had brought with it a far more immediate pain, and that became an excellent distraction.

But now that he stands here, fingers hovering over the carefully kept jars of water the vampire left behind, Changbin remembers it. He remembers the screaming. He remembers the ache in his own throat. He remembers Hyunjin cowering behind the kitchen counter, begging them to stop fighting. And of course, he remembers Jun standing across the living room from him, elemental magic wreathing his arms as he made it clear if anyone tried to stop him, he’d kill them.

Thank the void Hyunjin’s instincts were stronger than his fear. Thank the void the phoenix had stronger magic than Jun probably ever would. Changbin had still ended up bloody and bruised, but not dead. Not any worse off than he would be after a challenging job.

He tells himself that makes it better. The fact that he could have ended up in that state from anything, and it just so happened to be this. But he knows otherwise. It wasn’t anyone, it was his partner. Someone he had, at the time, still been bonded to. Someone he, for better or worse, knew inside and out. Having their past year and change of history thrown in his face like that had hurt far more than any physical injury could. 

Arguably the worst part is that Changbin had seen it coming. This hadn’t been a surprise. There’d been too many close calls preceding it, and eventually it had all started to build up. Jun had gone from reticent about his methods to aggressively critical of them. They’d been fighting more, hashing and rehashing each job long after they turned in their report, and there’d stopped being those moments of understanding afterward they could fall back on.

Changbin knew Jun was at the end of his rope, but he’d ignored it. Just like he’d ignored it with Junseong. Just like he’d ignored it with Haeun. He always reasoned that if someone couldn’t keep up with him, maybe they were in the wrong place. They were elimination specialists. There’s no hand-holding for something like that. Either you can take it, or you need to find a new specialization.

But most hunters didn’t burn through partners like he did. And maybe age and experience has led to a very particular way of doing things that’s not built for other people.

He can still hear Jun accusing him of trying to get them both killed. Nothing we do for the Bureau is worth dying for he’d said, magic surging through his eyes like high tide. It’s just stupid. Changbin had tried to tell the man he wasn’t looking for a noble death, that he wasn’t looking to die at all, but it had fallen on deaf ears. By that point, the selkie had already made up his mind. He was leaving.

Changbin still doesn’t know what happened to Jun. Presumably, the Bureau had put him back in the system. Presumably, he’s bonded to a different hunter, working jobs more suited to his constitution, maybe on a district team, or a regional team not as intense as Chan’s. Presumably, he’s happy there, or as happy as any hunter can get.

Meanwhile Changbin is here, running a finger over the blood caked onto the edge of the side table, and wondering if dying at the hands of a partner is any more ‘noble’ than dying on the job.

Letting out a breath, he takes a deliberate step back from the magic components and wipes his glove off on his vest, like that’ll remove the memories. They aren’t worth dwelling on, and he’s busy, right? He’s got a job to do. One that’s a lot more tangible than the indeterminate regrets that have long since built up and congealed in his system.

What’s immediately important is the fact the vampire has magic, and he needs to be ready for it.

Doing a full revolution, looking the rest of the bedroom over once more, Changbin frowns. He doesn’t particularly want to chase a creature with water magic into a sewer, but that’s looking like what he’s going to have to do. Oh well, won’t be the first time. He’s gone up against wild selkies and rogue water elementals, this shouldn’t be too much of a struggle.

We just stay above ground as long as possible and only go into its territory once we absolutely have to.

Stopping his little, pointless spin, Changbin stares blankly at the wall above the bed for a handful of seconds before his eyes focus in on a picture frame that’s hanging crookedly above the headboard. It looks like a family picture, from what he can tell. There’s two young children, as well as a smiling man and woman, all with the familiar dimple of fangs on their bottom lips. The thick parasol held over the group of them only backs up the assumption.

They look happy. People always do in pictures like that. 

The blood splattering up over the frame detracts from the aesthetic somewhat.

“What are you looking for?”

Shaking himself fully back to the present, Changbin turns to find Felix standing gingerly in the doorway to the bedroom. He doesn’t look like he wants to be there, but judging by the scowl, he enjoyed being left alone less. Deciding not to comment on it either way, Changbin casts one last glance over his shoulder at the table of magic before taking a step towards the fae.

“Nothing I didn’t successfully find,” he assures the man. “Come on, the sooner we get onto the street, the sooner we’ll be able to get this over with.”

Letting him pass, Felix quietly toes his way around the spattered blood, drifting vaguely near Changbin’s elbow the entire time. It’s impressive how little sound the man makes when he moves if he’s not using his wings. Based on the brief tussle he had with Felix when they first met, Changbin knows he has a fairly average mass for a winged non-human of his size, but the way he walks suggests otherwise.

Instead, Felix footfalls are practically non-existent, even as Changbin squeaks his way over the same soggy, ancient, carpet-covered wood. If he weren’t accustomed to far worse, it might have been unsettling.

Drawing in a deep, cleansing breath the moment they’re out in the open, Changbin palms the map back out of his vest pocket and squints at the barely legible handwriting. “Right, the last they saw it was here-” He jabs his finger at a particular spot on one narrow road that’s been heavily annotated in red. “From there, presuming the info is good, we should be able to track the vampire to wherever it’s holed itself up.”

He waits for a second, he thinks for some sign of acknowledgment from Felix. When he doesn’t get it, Changbin turns and gives the man a look. Inevitably, it’s met with a scowl.

“What, I don’t know how to hunt a vampire,” Felix points out, rubbing at his nose like the smell is still bothering him. “Do you want me to tell you it’s a good idea? Do you want me to disagree?”

“I was hoping for something to let me know you understood,” Changbin mutters, double-checking the lock on the apartment door behind them before folding his map back up.

Lips twitching, Felix looks away. “Yes, I’ve been listening. I have basic comprehension skills.”

Holding back a sigh, Changbin rounds on the man. “Look- Felix, this will go faster if we cooperate.” His frown only deepens when he’s met with an arch look from the fae. “This is a simple job, most of them won’t be this easy. So let’s get in the habit of coexisting now, if we can, so when we need to it’s not complicated.”

Felix keeps still for a long moment. There’s something distinctly mutinous about that silence, like he wants to say any number of things, but is resisting the urge. Part of Changbin is tempted to drag the information out of the man. 

The rest of him is thankful when the fae’s shoulders drop and he exhales frustratedly.

“Yeah, fine, whatever.”

It’s not perfect, but Changbin doesn’t have the energy to pull the man’s bad mood apart. Nor, if he’s honest, does he want to. If there’s one thing he’s learned from his short period of getting to know Felix, it’s that he can find almost limitless reasons to get upset, and he’s practically an expert at holding onto those negative emotions. Sure, Changbin could ask what was wrong, but that’ll either get his head bitten off, more passive-aggressive silence, or the worst case scenario: Felix choosing right now to open up.

No, right now, he’d rather work and get this over with than end up mired in an even more uncomfortable tension than he has right now.

Thankfully, once he’s got something else to focus on, Changbin is able to mostly ignore Felix’s bad mood, and by the time they’re wandering the streets of Assisi once more, said bad mood seems to mostly flatten back out. Sure, he can feel the fae’s eyes still boring into the back of his head, but that’s normal. At least there isn’t nearly as much resentment itching at the mark on his chest as there was when they first stepped out of the vampire’s apartment.

Turning his attention back to the map he’s got, Changbin rotates it, murmuring to himself about old cities and confusing roads. He’s not bad at navigating places like this, but he’s not especially fantastic at it either. Jisung has always been better, which is shocking because he’d probably lose track of his head if it wasn’t attached to him. His sense of direction, however, has always been impeccable.

Changbin’s, on the other hand, could use some work. Even with a map he’s forced to backtrack a couple of times, something he would have shrugged off had he been on his own, but feels especially conscious of with Felix behind him.

At least it seems to distract the fae from whatever else was wandering through his head. After the third ill-chosen turn, Changbin hears a snort of amusement from behind him. Which, in retrospect, is more levity than he’s gotten from Felix since they left the base the night before.

“I’ll get us there eventually,” Changbin mutters, glancing vaguely behind him until he catches sight of Felix’s faint shadow. “I don’t have the geography of every tiny European city memorized. My bad.”

“Need me to lead?” Felix asks, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“No.” Changbin turns his eyes back to where he’s walking. “I highly doubt you know this place better than I do.”

“Nope.” Felix’s feet scuff over the pavement, brand new standard issue boots picking up clinging dust with every step. 

Changbin huffs under his breath. “So maybe let me take care of it?”

“As long as you actually get us where we’re going.” Like mocking Changbin is exactly what he needed to improve his mood, the fae draws level with him, falling into step beside his right elbow. Felix’s expression is still that familiar, instinctive frown, but his eyes are softer. Marginally less hateful. “I’ve… never been in a city like this, actually.”

Right, because he didn’t travel before. Changbin puffs out his cheeks. “They’re nice. A bitch to navigate-”

“I’ve noticed.”

“-but they’re less sterile than newer cities.” Squinting at the fae, Changbin gives up when he gets a bared-tooth expression of pointy teeth. “They put you at a pretty big disadvantage if you’re fighting anything that knows the layout better than you do, but that’s true of almost any terrain. You get used to it.”

“Lots of things you just ‘get used to’, huh?”

Felix’s tone is neutral, enough so that Changbin can’t decide if it’s a genuine question or a rhetorical one. In lieu of knowing, he chooses to go ahead and answer.

“Yeah, there are.” His eyes scan the leaning buildings around them; their old stone facades and narrow, irregular windows. “I know you could probably say this of a lot of things, but hunting is unlike anything else. No real way to anticipate everything, even if you try.”

“You make it sound fantastical,” Felix comments, like he’s already preparing to disagree with that assessment.

“No, not fantastical.” Changbin feels the old scars on his chest twinge with phantom pain. “Just different.” The sort of thing you never come back from. 

“Something you get used to,” Felix echoes wryly.

Giving a half smile, Changbin looks back at his map. “Now you’re getting it.”

All things considered, it doesn’t take Changbin that long to find the particular alleyway that’s been marked down for him. Once he gets close enough, he knows he’s got the place, because it’s been cordoned off against vehicular traffic with big orange roadblocks. Tucking the map away the moment he sees it, he exchanges a brief look with Felix before pushing forward into the shadows.

Even in the dark, he’s able to get a pretty good idea of the scene. The dried blood splattered up one craggy brick wall, and the other signs of a struggle contained within the perimeter of police tape. There’s no body, but Changbin imagines there had been, based on some of the markings on the ground. It’s fresh enough that weather and time haven’t dented the evidence, which is good for them, and bad for anyone else who’s had to walk past this place.

Of course, Chan’s tracking magic is strong enough that Changbin doesn’t need a lot of physical evidence to work with, but it’s nice to have it. The spells catch more reliably like this, and there’s less of a chance that he’ll pick up on a signature he didn’t mean to. He’s done harder with so much less, but it’s nice to do things the easy way once in a while.

Ducking his way under the police tape, Changbin pats his pockets for his tracking charm before noticing Felix hasn’t followed him and stopping. “Well?”

“I’m watching.” The fae has the same look on his face that he did when they were poking around the vampire’s house, which is impressive because it doesn’t smell nearly as bad out here.

“Yeah, I can see that.” When all he gets is another frown, Changbin lifts an eyebrow. “I can’t teach you if you stay fifteen feet back at all times.” Not that he’s necessarily eager to teach Felix in the first place, but it has to happen eventually. He did it with Junseong, he can do it again.

Felix grimaces visibly and flutters up into the air. “I’m pretty sure I’ve got the idea from back here.”

“It’s just some blood.”

Eyes flicking to Changbin’s face, Felix looks at him like he’s lost his mind before seeming to remember something and clicking his tongue. “To you.”

Huffing, Changbin turns away from the fae and turns on the light he’s got clipped to his vest. “Being fussy about this isn’t going to make it go away.”

“I’m not-” Making a sharp sound in the back of his throat, Felix rises another foot into the air before flying over to the other side of the police tape. “There. I’m here. Show me… whatever is so important that I need to be this close to see it.”

Rolling his eyes at the man’s dramatics, Changbin pulls the tracking charm out of his pocket and crouches down. “I know it’s not fun but it’s all part of the job. Breathe through your mouth if the smell is that bad.”

“It’s not the smell.” Despite his complaining, Felix still hovers closer, clearly trying to watch what Changbin’s doing.

“Don’t tell me you have an issue with blood.” Changbin stares up at the fae. “I literally won’t believe you.”

“I don’t- Are you really telling me you can’t feel it at all?” Felix’s voice pitches incredulously.

“Feel what?” Again, Changbin is given that look, like he’s somehow the crazy one in this situation. “Look if it’s something pertinent to what we’re hunting, I’d rather you tell me now instead of when we’re facing the thing.”

“It’s-” Pursing his lips, Felix wrestles with the words for a moment before shaking his head. “I can’t explain it in a way a human would understand.”

Changbin almost says ‘then don’t bring it up’, but he bites his tongue on it a second later. Instead, he clears his throat and focuses on the battered charm of wood and leather in his hand. “I’m sorry if the- The energy or whatever is off. Someone died here. Probably painfully. There’s nothing I can do to change that.”

“I didn’t ask you too, I just-” Felix grits his teeth hard enough that Changbin swears he can feel the ache in his own jaw. “It’s fucking unpleasant.”

“Yep,” Changbin agrees, unwrapping the worn strip of leather from around the base of the charm. “Welcome to your average crime scene. It only gets worse from here. You should see some of the massacres I’ve had to deal with.”

Though he’d made a point of Felix paying attention, Changbin doesn’t bother walking the man through what he’s doing. Rubbing the runes branded into the inside of the leather into the blood on the ground, rewrapping the carved wood with said leather, murmuring the incomprehensible but thoroughly memorized incantation over the charm; the process of activating the tracking charm is close to second nature. Presumably the fae is smart enough to understand through watching, because Changbin isn’t inclined to slow down.

After a moment, the wood in his hand grows warm, almost uncomfortably so, before a spiral of glittering red wells up from under the leather and spills down to the pavement below. It hangs there for a moment, like a particularly stubborn wisp of smoke, before wandering away, past the police tape and out of the alleyway.

“And that’s reliable?” Felix asks, without bothering to hide his skepticism.

“It’s reliable enough,” Changbin assures him, straightening once more. “Setting it up isn’t always this easy, but if you know what to look for, it’ll do its job.”

“And that job is…?”

Changbin’s mouth pulls into a rare grin. “Lead us right to our vampire, theoretically. Or close enough that I’ll be able to do the rest.”

Pulling a face, Felix stares after the trail of magic. “You know, somehow I assumed you’d have something more sophisticated than this, but I guess I assumed too much.”

“Eh, some hunters do.” Pulling the police tape out of his way, Changbin clicks his flashlight off again, making the faint glimmer of magic a bit easier to see. “There’s always new methods of doing pretty much everything popping up, but…” He shrugs. “No point in complicating something that works, right?”

“If it works better?” Felix ventures, wings buzzing faintly as he follows. 

“Yeah but I know this isn’t going to suddenly stop working on me.” Poking his head out of the mouth of the alleyway, Changbin picks up on the trail once more and sets off. “Sure, there are better magicks I could use, or other methods, but I don’t need anyone’s help for this one. Reliability always wins over all that extra shit.”

Setting down next to Changbin, Felix surreptitiously leans over his shoulder, peering at the charm. Something about the proximity makes his skin prickle. Ignoring it, he lifts the charm up for the fae to get a closer look at.

“That doesn’t look reliable,” Felix decides.

Changbin pulls the charm away, only a little insulted by the comment. As if you have anything better. “It’s what we’re using,” he says aloud. “I’m sure eventually you’ll get to see something more interesting.”

Felix grumbles under his breath, but doesn’t offer any further opinions, which is fine by Changbin.

It’s for the best, because as simple as this tracking method is, it does require some measure of focus. The spell doesn’t always maintain the same strength, and sometimes it drags him in a direction he doesn’t expect. Thankfully he’s not having to climb through any windows today, but he does have to take a couple interesting paths through restricted areas that he definitely wouldn’t have permission to trespass through if he didn’t have the NHII’s logo stitched into his clothes.

If he were a bit newer to this than he is, Changbin would have sworn the trail they’re following doesn’t make sense, but as it is, he chalks it up to the vampire being blood crazed. They really aren’t in control of themselves when they get like this. Or if they are, it’s in a purely instinctive sense. This isn’t the creature fleeing, not really. Rather, he suspects the vampire was just buzzing off its insane, excess energy before going to ground once more.

Despite Assisi not being the biggest city he’s hunted through, Changbin and Felix end up following the thread of magic for a couple hours. Sure, the vampire probably crossed this path with relative speed, but they can only go at the pace the runes allow, and that’s significantly slower. Blessedly, the path never breaks, which means at least these hours won’t be going to waste, but they don’t exactly get any less tedious.

For Changbin, he finds the process relaxing. Perhaps not directly, but the familiarity of it is good for him. There’s been a fair amount of upheaval in his life recently, most of it directly tied to the fae currently following several paces behind him, but at least this never changes. In fact, considering this is a job several classifications easier than he’d normally handle, it’s even more textbook than it would be otherwise.

Speaking of the fae, having someone on a job with him again is a learning curve. Technically, Changbin has spent more of his career partnered than unpartnered, but no two partnerships are ever the same. Being on his own is a baseline, by comparison. Sure, Jun only recently left, but he’d already fallen back into that groove of silence. Of being alone with his thoughts. Of relying on himself.

Having Felix there grates a bit on the edges of his consciousness, like something’s out of place. It’s not directly uncomfortable, or strictly comfortable either. It’s just a change, a snag in the grain of Changbin’s thoughts. A reminder to slow down, to communicate what he’s doing, to not be completely anti-social.

They’re bonded, so he’s able to get away with mostly leaving Felix to operate on context clues and intuit, but every now and then, he’s reminded there’s still some teaching he has to do.

“Is it always this boring?”

The two of them haven’t spoken for at least the past hour, but Felix has no problem breaking that silence when he decides to. Giving the fae a sidelong look, Changbin almost spits out an off-handed, sarcastic retort. Something along the lines of oh, hunting sentient beings is always a walk in the park but at the last second, he stops. Maybe, it’s the glimmer of genuine curiosity lingering behind Felix’s expression. Like however coarse his tone, he actually wants an answer. 

The comment is still strange to him though. Boring? He’s never thought about it like that. Sure, there are periods of down time, but the moments of quick action more than make up for it. Then again… 

“This really is your first hunt, huh?”

Upper lip curling, Felix scoffs and looks away. “That’s a stupid question and you know it.”

“Alright listen-” Sometimes it’s more obvious than others. Sometimes you act new instead of just being new. Changbin doesn’t finish his sentence. Instead, he rubs his fingers over the charm in his hand and thinks over Felix’s original question. “I guess it depends on the hunt. Depends on how far into it you are. Sometimes it’s…” He grimaces. “Boring, sometimes it’s not.”

Felix doesn’t comment on that. At least, not verbally. His body language, however, says plenty. The little flutter of his wings, the subtle tensing and releasing of his shoulder muscles, the way his eyes flit to Changbin’s face before looking away. He might as well have openly said that he wanted this to be more interesting. Though, he suspects it's probably not for any good reason.

Glancing back at the tracking charm in his hand, Changbin checks they’re on the right path before allowing himself a moment of thought. Probably, when the Bureau was first briefing Felix on the type of work he’d be doing, they prepared him for things a lot more fast paced than this. After all, they put him on a specialist team to begin with. There’s really no such thing as slow, or even acclimatizing work in a position like that.

For the first time since meeting Felix, it occurs to Changbin how unusual it is that the man got put on the team he did in the first place. Not necessarily because of his criminal background, no, what makes it more unusual is the fact he never went through any official Academy schooling beforehand. When it comes to a position that prestigious, it’s more or less expected that you have formal training. That, or there’s some other outstanding circumstance that convinces the Bureau to overlook your lack of experience.

Technically, Junseong never went through the Academy either, and they still passed him off to Junhyung without too much thought. But on the flip side of things, the man had been working with Changbin for a year. Yes, technically that doesn’t count as academy training, but it might as well. Field experience, especially field experience of the caliber that Changbin would have been putting the blink dog through, is a whole lot more valuable than any amount of time spent in a classroom. 

But even then, the only reason Junseong ended up on a specialist team in the first place is because they’d done a quiet, internal transfer, without getting too many paper pushers involved in the process. If there had been some true oversight, chances are Changbin’s old partner would have gotten yanked elsewhere, and Chan would have been able to do little to stop it. 

Felix though, Felix has no such excuse, and the more Changbin thinks about it, the more curious he becomes.

“How did you end up on a specialist team?” 

Changbin’s question is blunt, but then, he sees no reason in beating around the bush. If Felix isn’t going to answer, he’ll just not answer. Couching it in flowery terms isn’t going to change that. “You didn’t have any prior experience according to your paperwork, it’s unusual.”

“I mean, I can fight.” The fae’s expression is sullen, like Changbin has unintentionally struck a nerve with that question. Judging by the faint echoes of emotion through their bond mark, however, the man isn’t hostile. With that in mind, Changbin keeps pushing.

“A lot of species of nonhuman know how to fight. If that’s all it took, we’d push every one of them into specialist or regional positions. We don’t.” Changbin’s brows pinch ever so slightly. “As someone who has been in this organization for a while, you’re unusual.”

“Cool… I guess?” Felix’s eyes slide doubtfully in Changbin’s direction. “Am I supposed to be thankful or something? Should I be proud?”

“I don’t know, that’s up to you.” Rolling his shoulders, Changbin turns his eyes back to the trail they’re following. The same one that glitters in faint runic lines over the rough cobblestone road. “I’m just asking the question. How did you end up here?”

For a long moment, Felix is silent. It’s not the silence of him trying to ignore Changbin, however. Rather it seems more like he’s lost in a memory. If he is, it isn’t a good one, judging by the way he starts lagging behind before taking wing and popping up into the air once more.

“I took a test,” he says at length, the buzz of his wings filling the air around them.

“We all take tests.” But Changbin supposes it’s still a fair answer. It’s not a very satisfying one, but he can’t deny that most of the Bureau’s decisions come from strange, unexplained tests taken in unsettlingly blank rooms at solid oak tables similar to the one sitting in their own dining room. Very rarely are they told what the results of the tests mean, or whether they failed them or not. That’s just part of the process. Take a test, and then obey whatever instructions come out of it.

He fully expects Felix to leave it there, but a minute later, after Changbin has nearly forgotten they were talking at all, the man continues to speak. “I didn’t want to be on a specialist team.”

Wryly, Changbin snorts. “Trust me, the Bureau doesn’t force anybody into that kind of job. You could’ve just not taken the test.” Then they’d have stuck the man on some local or district team and called it a day. The Bureau only pushes people who push themselves.

Unintentionally, Changbin finds himself reliving his own years at the Academy. For a while there, he’d wanted to be on a specialist team, had actively attempted to pursue it. Sure, no one really knew what it was that singled you out for a chance at a position like that, but he’d known excellence was part of it. It’s one of the reasons he’d pushed himself so hard in the eliminations program. After realizing he had a knack for it, he’d worked his ass off in an attempt to get noticed. To be picked by whatever unknown algorithm there was that selected for that sort of thing.

Obviously, it hadn’t worked. Changbin hadn’t been bitter about it per se. Even when he saw a couple of his classmates get snapped up for specialist work, he never really begrudged them the chance. Besides, Chan had picked him. Practically from the moment he was qualified for fieldwork at all. It’s hard to be bitter under those circumstances.

That being said, thinking about Felix’s situation brings up an old feeling of injustice. Like he’s well and truly working for an unknowable system, and there’s nothing he can do that will change how it operates.

“They made me take the test.”

Blinking, Changbin refocuses on Felix.

Wrestling with the issue, Felix furrows his brows and stares hard at the ground. “I couldn’t just ignore them or- Or tell them I wanted to be put somewhere else. I wasn’t given a choice.”

Considering it, Changbin almost continues to disagree before wondering if Felix has a point. Sure, there’s always a way out, but the Bureau can be very persuasive. “I guess it feels that way, doesn’t it,” he settles on. “Especially once you’ve come that far and they’re considering you for something so important.”

Felix makes a frustrated sound in the back of his throat. “I don’t think you understand what I’m saying.”

Disgruntled, Changbin huffs, “Then explain it.”

Sharp, multi-colored eyes meet his. “They said they’d kill me if I didn’t.”

Changbin doesn’t stop walking, but his footsteps do stutter a bit. He’s not sure what he expected, but it definitely wasn’t that. Especially not spoken with such conviction, without even a trace of exaggeration in Felix's voice. His immediate thought is, understandably, that’s illegal, but it’s quickly followed by creeping uncertainty as he realizes he doesn’t actually know that much about the laws surrounding fae.

Clearing his throat, he looks back at the tracking charm. “I see.”

“Yeah, so when I say I didn’t get a choice in where they put me, I fucking mean it.” The disgust in Felix’s voice is evident. “It was do well or get put down. And maybe they wouldn’t have gone through with it, but your organization doesn’t exactly inspire confidence.”

Arguably, it does, if you’re the right shape. Changbin never realized there was a right shape to have, considering the sheer diversity of species that work for the Bureau, but… He knows Felix isn’t lying to him. Instinctively, intrinsically, even if his conscious thought is rebelling against it.

“A lot is starting to make sense right now,” Changbin mutters, despite himself.

The sound the fae makes is bitter and humorless. “Happy to demystify it for you.”

Though this probably isn’t the time to get into a fight, Changbin can’t help but say, “You know you didn’t have to end up here. I’ve said it before but prison was always an option. A bad option, but… it existed.”

“Having two bad options doesn’t make either of them any less shitty.” Lagging behind again, Felix bluntly says, “Yeah, I don’t want to be in prison. I also don’t want to be here.”

Ducking down a shadowed ally as the tracking magic leads him there, Changbin mutters, “Where else would you be?”

“Free?”

He’s not looking at the fae, but he still frowns like he is. “You know what I’m talking about. If you hadn’t been assigned to a specialist team, or transferred to me, where would you be instead?”

Felix falls further behind, the ambient light he gives off fading until it’s practically unnoticeable. “Maybe one of your… local teams?” Slowly, the uncertainty in his tone fades. “Or a district team. Something closer to where I’m from instead of a couple continents away.”

Turning around another shadowy corner, turning on his flashlight as the dark gets a bit too deep for his human eye-sight, Changbin’s mouth pulls thin. “Right. So you’d rather work with a team like the one you just met.”

“No,” Felix grumbles. “Obviously not.”

“That’s what local teams are like. Basically across the board.” Thinking to his own experiences, Changbin ruefully adds, “District teams too, unless you’re lucky. If you weren’t on a team like Chan-hyung’s, that’s where you’d be.”

“It’d be less dangerous,” Felix points out, drawing a bit closer as the cobbled paths they’re taking narrow. “I wouldn’t be looking at death being a constant job hazard.”

“Right, but you’d hate the people you’d end up working with.” The thread of magic Changbin’s following is getting stronger the further they go, as the signature it’s following passes through places less well traveled. “You’d either be stuck with a group of people who have no idea what you are, and probably don’t care enough to be polite about it. Or, you get put in a group that knows way too much about your local politics, and those people always have opinions.”

“I could handle it,” Felix argues, familiar stubbornness filling his voice.

“Could you though?” Changbin’s face pinches. “Not to be an asshole, but you haven’t handled us very well at all, and at least Chan-hyung, Jisung and Hyunjin are trying to be respectful. I have no idea what you thought about Junhyung’s team, but judging by the fact you stabbed one of them-”

“I wasn’t going to kill him.”

“-I’m pretty sure you didn’t like them much either.” Briefly, Changbin pauses so he can glance in Felix’s direction. “You wouldn’t survive in a local team. They’d drive you up a wall within a couple of hours, and then taking into account the fact you’d be bonded to one of them?” Changbin shrugs. “I know you don’t like it with me, but…” He trails off deliberately. “Besides, if you think this is boring, trust me, it gets so much worse.”

Felix opens his mouth to reply, but as they take yet another turn, Changbin sees where the magic is taking them and holds up a hand.

“What?” Whether he means it to or not, the fae’s volume lowers.

Changbin nods towards the manhole at their feet, right where the glittering thread of red magic has passed through. “We’re almost there. You might get some excitement yet.”

Setting down on the other side of the manhole, Felix takes a moment to tuck his wings in before giving Changbin a distinctly displeased look. “I hope he’s literally right below our feet.”

Changbin’s smile is wry. “He probably won’t be.”

Spitting out a couple words in faespeak, Felix’s nose wrinkles. “Can we stay on the streets until we’re closer?”

“We’re already far closer than we would be otherwise.” Shaking his tracking charm, Changbin gives a shrug. “And I’m at the mercy of wherever this thing leads me.” 

Eyes tracking the wood and leather, the fae critically tells him, “You wouldn’t be if you used something better.” 

“Ah, but this is what we have,” Changbin states, giving a meaningful nod in his partner’s direction. “Don’t worry though, there should be enough walkways down there to mostly skip the wading-through-sewage parts.”

“I’m going to fly,” Felix says bluntly.

Changbin bares his teeth in a smile. “Okay, well I’ll be able to mostly skip the wading.” Before they can let the magic get any further away from them, he hunkers down and starts yanking the ancient metal plate free of its cobblestones.

It comes away easier than it would usually. Judging by the scrapes on the surrounding metal frame and stone, it was moved recently, presumably when the vampire tore through here. Shining his flashlight down into the dank depths below, Changbin pulls a quick face of his own before resigning himself to a couple loads of laundry at the hotel.

Unfortunately, a sewer is not the worst thing he’s trekked through for a job. That doesn’t make him like it any more, but it does lessen the sting as he lowers himself into the hole and gets a foot hooked around the rung of a rebar ladder. He may hate it, but he’ll live.

“C’mon,” he grunts to Felix, as his head dips below street level. “The vampire isn’t getting any closer.”

The fae makes several more disgruntled sounds as he shifts from foot to foot, but eventually, once Changbin’s made it over half-way down, Felix caves. With a somewhat distressed sound, the man flutters his wings before lowering himself down into the manhole as well. Smiling despite himself, Changbin continues his descent, surrounded by the combined shadows of his light and the fae’s magic.

Thankfully, the sewers don’t actually smell as bad as they could. There isn’t, as he had feared, actually a river of raw sewage flowing past them. Instead, they’re met with a sluggish flow of other water waste and a mass of pipes around them Changbin is deeply glad he’s not paid to understand. He thinks he can spot at least one access hatch which likely does lead down to the sewage, but there’s no glitter of red magic around it, so he disregards it.

What stench remains is kept at bay by the runic magic baked into the old bricks surrounding them. It glitters dully when he examines it, a familiar pattern of overlapping squares that Chan often leaves behind on anything he owns for too long. Changbin doubts that smell reduction will last once they’re in the thick of it, so to speak, but he’s glad for the reprieve while he has it.

As he waits for Felix to join him at the bottom, he holds up his tracking charm and tries to get a bead on the magic once more. From what he can tell, it’s mostly clinging to the walls and ceiling, no doubt following the precise path of the vampire, but it’s strong enough they’ll be able to follow it easily. Wedging the charm into the strap of his vest, Changbin maps out the available walkways and pulls a face.

They’ll be able to stay dry for a while, but eventually, he imagines, but eventually they’ll be forced to fight in the water. Unless, of course, he’s able to get a bead on his target beforehand.

“I can’t believe I’m walking through a sewer,” Felix grumbles, fluttering awkwardly two inches off the brick so he doesn’t brush the low ceiling.

“You’ll walk through worse,” Changbin mutters, keeping his voice low. It still echoes despite his best efforts, amplifying the sound in a way that makes him cringe, but he tries to shake it off.

If the vampire hears them and decides to come to them, it won’t necessarily be a loss. There’s nothing a creature like that has in its arsenal, including the elemental magic, that Changbin won’t be able to put down with relative swiftness. Though now that he’s thinking about it, he does pull Gloria out of her holster and get a proper hold on her grip. Better prepared than dead, after all.

Behind him, there’s a soft sound, followed by a glow. Giving it a glance, Changbin finds Felix with his own sword drawn. The blade looks every bit as deadly as it did the first time he laid eyes on it, maybe more so now that he’s connected to the fae, and instinctively understands how confident the man is with it.

Catching his gaze, Felix’s brows furrow. “What?”

Lips pursing, Changbin faces forward. “Nothing.”

As he expected, they don’t need their weapons immediately. Instead, they’re brought back to their earlier game of following Changbin’s charm, this time with the added excitement of having to find a viable path to take. There’s always the option to jump into the channel beside them, but Felix doesn’t need to, and despite Changbin’s earlier bravado, he’s not inclined to get wet if it’s not necessary. Logically, it’s because he’s dealing with a creature well versed in handling water. Personally though, he’s already dreading the damp journey back to the hotel he’s going to be forced to suffer.

The silence down here is different from the quiet on the street above. Up there, there was always the buzz of ambient sound, the noise of a city rife with tourists and an existent night-life. Down here, the most they get is the gurgle of the sludge beside them and the rumble of the occasional vehicle far above their heads. The result is a strange background track that makes Changbin conscious of every scuff of his boots, and each too-loud breath that leaves him.

He’s also increasingly aware of the buzz of Felix’s wings, vibrating beside him. The man has chosen to stay off the walkway, in order to give himself the space required for his wingspan. Changbin doesn’t begrudge him the space, but it does leave the man hovering in his peripheral vision, and inevitably, that catches his attention. If only every now and then.

Despite his earlier complaints, he seems to be handling the sewers just fine. His nose is wrinkled, and he’s very careful to never let his feet touch the water below him, but he’s stopped openly whining. Instead, he seems too focused on the path ahead of him, his sword held at rest but still ready.

Turning his eyes to their ever-present trail of red magic, Changbin’s mouth twitches down. I don’t need an upgrade, this works just fine.

“Y’know, I know why they put me on a specialist team originally.”

Blinking, momentarily confused by the non-sequitur, Changbin glances in Felix’s direction. The fae’s jaw is clenched, like he’s been chewing on whatever he’s about to say for a bit. Remembering their earlier conversation, Changbin quickly gathers the threads of thought before responding.

“Why did they?”

“They want me dead.” Felix says it flatly, like it’s a fact and he’s given up on being horrified or upset about it. “They always have. Whether it be directly at their hands, or out on the field, it’s all the same. They don’t care that I don’t have experience, because they don’t want me to survive.”

“Right.” Passing over his own instinctive reaction to the fae’s words, Changbin prompts, “And what does that have to do with you being on a local team.”

“If I were on a local team, I’d be bored as shit, and that sucks.” Felix’s brows furrow. “But on the flip side, your organization would never get the satisfaction of seeing me killed.”

Changbin grunts. “You’d hate it.

“Yeah, but I’d be alive.” Fixing him with a pointed stare, Felix deliberately says, “Every other option here is probably going to lead to my death. If I resist them, I die. If I’m on a specialist team, I’ll probably die. If I’m with you, I bet my chances of making it out of here aren’t great either.”

“I mean,” Changbin mutters, hunching his shoulders for a moment. “I’m still here, aren’t I? And besides, you didn’t seem too bothered by dying when you were trying to run away.”

“It was the only other option I had,” Felix points out.

Though he’s not sure he gets it, Changbin doesn’t argue. “Glad you changed your mind.”

“I’m not suicidal.” Momentarily, the fae’s magic flares brighter before quieting back down. “Unfortunately. I tried to be, but…” He shakes his head. “Dying on my own terms might not be great, but I still think it’d be better by degrees than dying in any other way.”

“At least like this, you can die on the field.” Shrugging, Changbin mutters, “Isn’t that better?”

“Of course it’s not better.” Turning, Felix makes eye-contact with Changbin, and for a moment he’s captured by the colors there, almost as if he’d had a spell put over him. The glittering blues and greens and purples are undimmed by lack of ambient light. and in that second they glow brightly; sharply. Still so full of anger, even after all this time.

“Why isn’t it better?” Changbin dares to ask.

In a voice that touches something uncomfortably deep in his chest, Felix says, “No death under the Bureau is a noble one.”  

Then without another word, he turns and continues after the tracking magic, leaving Changbin to follow or be left behind.

 

᚛ᚒᚖᚒ᚜

Notes:

When I originally wrote this (outing myself a little) TOZ hadn't debuted yet, so excuse any weirdness surrounding that part. I shifted it over so Takuto would have his group mates with him.

Notes:

If you're lucky, you're reading this when it's all been complete. If you're less lucky, I'm still updating.

Either way, I hope you enjoyed what you read.

Thank you to norudeghosts who reads everything and tells me if it's good food or not. Thank you. If I could gift everything I've ever written to you, I would, and it would still feel inadequate.