Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Marion jolted awake, feeling like all the air has been squeezed out of his lungs, the sweat-drenched sheets tangled around his legs like venomous snakes.

No. This couldn't be happening.

He could hear the noise of Newfaire streets outside the window - rattling of a train cart moving over the trails in front of his apartment; a sound he couldn't mistake for anything else. The bed he was lying in was his, so was the rest of the room, down to the drawing hanging on the wall, always tilting slightly left, no matter how many times Marion tried to level it.

The heart pounding in his chest was Marion's too. He could feel it with his hand pressed against the star-shaped scar and it made it very, very clear just how alive he was. Which made no sense because Marion remembered giving up his soul, he remembered how it felt to die.

Yet here he was, still breathing. But if so, then what about…

“Jinnah,” he breathed out, body moving before his mind could catch up to it, falling out of the bed and scurrying towards the door of his apartment, throwing it open and rushing out in the streets. Cold cobblestones hurt his bare feet but Marion didn’t notice any of that, his mind focused on crossing the well-known path towards Jinnah’s home, pushing away the passers-by who weren’t quick enough to jump out of his way.

When he finally made it to her house, Marion practically slammed against the front door, fist pounding at the wood in panic as he kept shouting, “Jean! Jinnah!”

It felt like hours, like infinity, before the bolt on the other side of the door slid open, allowing Marion to tumble inside, almost trampling the doctor on his way in.

“Marion?” Jinnah’s face immediately morphed into that of concern when she saw him falling on the carpet in her hall. She crouched next to Marion, one hand reaching out towards him. “Goodness me, what happened?”

With a carpet still pressing against his back, Marion blinked, his mouth falling open and then closing uselessly, his mind not capable of forming a single coherent sentence. He sat up, hands instinctively clasped over Jinnah’s, squeezing her palm, so warm and naked without her usual gloves.

“Jinnah,” he stuttered out, eyes darting frantically all over Jinnah’s face, down to the simple clothes he knew she liked to wear at home, then back to her beautiful, dark eyes. “Oh thank God,” Marion brought her hands to his lips, and pressed a kiss to her fingers. “You’re alright. You’re alright,” he kept repeating, nuzzling his cheek against her palm.

“Mister Collodi!” Jinnah cried, taking her hand away from Marion and pressing it against her chest. Her face darkened with a blush and she averted her gaze from Marion.

Confused, Marion looked down at himself, only then noticing how underdressed he was - a loose shirt showing off a big part of his chest with the way most of the buttons were left undone and a pair of pants reaching only halfway down his calf. He ran through the city like this and made a ruckus at Jinnah’s front door where all of her neighbors could easily spot him.

“I’m sorry,” he started, slowly standing up. “I just… What happened? How did we make it out?”

“Make it out?” Jinnah repeated his question with furrowed brows.

“Yes! I thought… I saw you…” words failed him, the image of Jinnah’s lifeless body still too fresh in his memory to talk about it.

Jinnah inched closer, putting one of her hands tentatively on Marion’s forearm. “Marion, is this about your visions? Did you see something in your dream? Is that what upset you?”

But her voice was suddenly coming from a great distance as Marion finally was focused enough to look. To be precise, he had finally noticed something very, very wrong.

“Your hand,” he said, taking a few steps back. “What happened to your hand?”

“My hand?”

“Where are the flames?”

“What? Marion, what are you talking about?” Jinnah said as she took a step towards Marion only for him to take a two steps back, adrenaline coursing through his veins.

“Oh no, I’m not falling for this! Stay where you are!” he shouted while still moving backwards, towards where he knew a palm-sized mirror was standing on a cabinet near him - Jinnah always used it to make sure she looked perfect before leaving her home. His hands reached blindly to it, the cold metal of the mirror frame pressing against his palm. He wasn’t sure how it would work, but Marion shoved the mirror in front of himself, his heart hurting as his eyes were fixed on Jean’s face, waiting for the lovely shape in front of him to change into something monstrous, something from beyond the Flare.

A second passed. Two. Three.

“Marion?”

Five seconds and nothing happened. Marion gulped, a dreadful thought crossing his mind that maybe it was just an empty frame. Quickly he flipped it around. The mirror was intact, showing Marion his own reflection. Though it wasn’t the reflection he was expecting.

“What…?” Unable to look away from the mirror, Marion lifted his trembling hand towards the scar on his chest, moving it up towards the face that bore no sign of bluish-veins. He touched his forehead and cheeks but couldn’t feel anything building underneath his skin.

“Mister Collodi?” Jean’s voice called him back to reality that felt like a dream.

“Jinnah,” Marion paused. Tried to make sense of everything that had happened since he woke up. “The assignments from Candela, the one with shapeshifting monsters…” he looked up at her, studying the changes in her expression. There was no sign of recognition. Marion swallowed. Decided to try again. “Then what about the androphage?” Again nothing but a growing confusion.

This couldn’t be.

But what other explanation was there?

One more deep breath and Marion asked a question that felt impossibly heavy on his tongue.

“Jean, what day is it?”

She had to lead him to the couch in a sitting room but Marion couldn’t remember any of it, his head spinning and legs feeling weak ever since he heard what month it was.

His first instinct was to deny it, but honestly, hadn’t he witnessed stranger things during his years in Candela? Besides, this one was easy to verify - the date on the newspaper that still smelled of fresh print; the just-turning-yellow leaves on the plum tree in Jinnah’s garden, perfectly visible through the window.

“I have to go find Sean,” Marion said when Jinnah returned to the room, carrying a tray with two empty cups and a teapot. He was now wearing shoes that used to belong to Jinnah’s father, a too-long shirt hanging from his shoulders - Jinnah insisted he wore them instead of sitting half-naked in her home and Marion couldn’t bring himself to argue with her.

“I don’t think you’re in the right condition to walk around the city, Mister Collodi. I’d prefer it if you stayed here so I could run a few tests and figure out what caused your… Attack, earlier. We can try and contact Mister Finnerty later, invite him to come here,” Jinnah said in her doctor voice, the voice Marion always obeyed. Not this time, though.

He shook his head. “No. Jean, I’m fine, really,” it was obvious she didn’t trust his words but Marion couldn’t simply sit and wait with only half of the puzzle pieces in place. “It was just… a bit of a shock, I guess. I’ll be okay,” he stood up from the couch and took her hands, squeezing them gently. “And I’ll explain everything later today, promise, but I have to make sure he’s okay too.”

She didn’t look convinced or happy with his decision and something about the look on her face made Marion smile fondly and press his lips against her cheek.

“I-!” Jinnah stepped back with her eyes wide in shock, but Marion gave her hands one more squeeze before saying:

“I waited too long already. I have no intention of repeating this mistake.”

A few moments later Marion was outside again, taking long strides back towards South Soffit, the world around him still hazy and not quite real as he crossed the streets and watched people go about their business.

He knocked at the doors of a house he had spent half of his childhood in but the person who answered wasn’t Sean.

“Finnerty?” the middle-aged gentleman curled his mustache as he thought. “I can’t say I can help you, son. I moved here almost three years ago when I moved to Newfaire and I don’t remember no Finnerty.”

A panic once again rose in Marion’s chest but he managed to keep it at bay. After all, Jinnah didn’t seem very surprised when Marion told her he had to talk to Sean. And sometimes people just move. Maybe Sean couldn’t bear living in an empty house where every corner was overflowing with memories of the past. Maybe he just needed a change of pace.

But why wouldn’t he mention it to Marion? Suddenly, Marion remembered the countless excuses whenever he offered to visit Sean. At some point Marion had assumed that Sean wanted to keep a distance, to separate the part of his life that was connected to Candela and their work from his private life and that, however painful it was to admit, Marion fell into the first category and therefore was banned from Sean’s home, from his sanctum.

But if Sean didn’t live in his childhood home anymore then where could he be? And why would he move in the first place? That home, no matter how humble, meant everything to Sean - it was the same place where his mother waited for Sean and his brothers with dinner; the same rooms where the four boys sneaked around playing harmless pranks on each other. Even if Sean would never admit it out loud, Marion knew how much that place meant to him and that he would never give it up willingly.

Was it so bad then? Was Sean so short on cash he couldn’t afford the rent anymore? If so, why wouldn’t he ask Marion for help? He would be more than glad to give Sean money or move in with him and split the bills.

Marion shook his head.

What a stupid thought. Of course Sean wouldn’t ask him for help. After all, Sean had it programmed in that dumb head of his that he should be there for others, not the other way around. It was a pain in the ass to convince Sean to accept help in the most meaningless things. Doing so with something that really mattered to Sean? Impossible.

Marion started to walk even faster towards their Chapter House, playing out a conversation with Kingsley in his mind (he was still alive ) on how to convince him to let Marion take a look at Sean’s file so he could learn his address. He was preparing mentally for anything from begging to mild threats.

In the end, he didn’t need to use any of that because Sean was right there when Marion climbed the stairs.

“Mar?” Sean turned around, a surprised expression on his face. He had a dirty rag in one hand which he threw over one shoulder. “Fancy seeing you here,” Sean said with that lopsided smile of his that usually made butterflied fly in Marion’s stomach but this time froze him in place.

“What are you doing here?” Marion said, eyes moving over Sean’s gray shirt, his messy hair that looked like he had only ran his hand through it instead of using a comb.

“Huh? Ah, I just happened to have some free time, decided to stop by to help our man there with cleaning,” Sean pointed with his thumb behind himself, towards the doors to the archives. “You know, maybe if we earn a gold star for keepin’ everythin’ here in shape the next time we get an assignment they’ll at least give us some more bullets so I don’t have to waste my own supplies on some fuckers…” Sean continued to babble but Marion didn’t pay much attention to his words anymore, too busy connecting the dots that were so painfully obvious now that he actually took the effort to look.

He hardly ever saw Sean outside of the Chapter House or their assignments. More often than not he arrived before anyone else when their Circle was called for a meeting. He almost always found an excuse to stay behind even after the rest of them went home after the mission. The three shirts Sean wore over and over again and rolled his eyes when Marion pointed that out, saying that he’s mistaken or that he just happened to wear the same shirt as four days before “like a normal person does”.

“You live here,” Marion blurted out before he could stop himself.

Sean immediately fell silent, then let out a short laugh. “Yeah, born and raised in this shithole of a town, thought you knew that already, Mar.”

“No. I mean here. In a Chapter House.”

“What? Oh, come on, Mar, I don’t…”

“I was in your home earlier,” Marion cut him off. “I was looking for you and when I went there the guy who opened the door told me he was living there for three years. Three years, Sean!” he paused, waiting for Sean’s reaction, but the other man only looked to the side, avoiding Marion’s eyes.

That wouldn’t do.

Marion stepped closer to Sean and placed both of his hands on the sides of Sean’s head. This wasn’t as delicate as when he was holding Jinnah - he had to make sure Sean was going to look at him, that he wasn’t going to step away from him. From so close there was no way to miss the paleness of Sean’s skin or how bloodshot his eyes were. Still, he looked better than the image tucked into the corner of Marion’s mind - no bruises, no split lips or hastily patched-up wounds. Sean’s gray eyes had a guilty look but they were still a far cry from that horrifying, haunted look Marion saw in them as they faced the monster that had killed them.

Marion’s thumb brushed against Sean’s cheek, the tenderness of the touch making the other man shudder. Marion closed his eyes and pressed their foreheads together, exhaled. He could feel the tremendous weight being lifted from his shoulders.

They were together. Breathing and standing and so was Jinnah. And that meant they could change things. That it wasn’t too late. They could change enough to make sure the future as Marion had seen it would never come.

“We can fix it, Sean,” Marion whispered into the space between them, eyes still closed, feeling one of Sean’s hands find its way up to Marion’s wrist and wrap around it.

“Mar? What are you talking about?”

Marion opened his eyes and leaned his head back just enough to be able to look at Sean’s face. “Everything,” he chuckled, feeling his lips stretch in a smile while his eyes teared up. “We can fix everything.”

Chapter Text

Something was off.

Sean was sitting at the table in the Chapter House, moving his lucky baseball in his hand while watching Draven rub his temples, as if each one of Marion’s words was as good as a solid whack on the head. 

“And are you absolutely sure of all of this, Mister Collodi?”

“Yes.”

You see, the thing was that Sean knew Marion. He really knew him, as in: he watched him get sick from eating too much sugar when they were kids but also has dragged Marion’s semi-conscious ass through the mud in the trenches to keep him safe. After almost twenty years of knowing each other, Sean was quite confident in his ability to read through Marion; to know when the other man was trying to hide his nervousness or was concealing anger.

The relief that washed over Marion's face when he saw Sean wasn't anything new - it was the same expression Marion often wore after receiving his visions. There was, however, a lot off in the look in Marion’s eyes when Draven stepped out of the archives and joined them in the corridor. A flinch of muscles, as if he barely stopped himself from stepping in between Sean and their Lightkeeper.

You good? Sean had tried to convey with a raise of a brow when Marion walked by him, climbing up the stairs to talk to Draven.

Later, the shake of Marion’s head had said. Don’t think we’re done with this conversation, he added in his glower.

Sean decided to ignore the second part because the first one wasn’t a clear “yes, I’m fine”, which meant Sean was now on alert. He followed them into the room like a shadow, Draven barely sparing him a glance but not arguing when Sean took a seat beside Marion. And now Sean was listening, his muscles becoming more and more tense with each minute and new revelation.

“Is there any way to distinguish between the person and a duplicate?” Draven was asking, fingers steepled in front of him and expression grim as he absorbed the new information.

“Physically? No. Not that I know of, at least. But from what we… From what I have gathered, they’re not perfect copies when it comes to the mind and memory of the person they've trying to impersonate. Setting up a codeword may be a good decision.”

“And you said that in your vision, the upcoming attack of that monster is somehow connected to Allison?”

Marion ran a hand over his face. “Yes, we have to make sure her husband and child are safe. I’m not completely sure if it’s already there but there was - is? - a Thinning in the tunnels underneath the city, near one of the subway stations. That’s where the creatures crossed.”

Sean moved his thumb over the stitches running across the baseball, absentmindedly repeating a gesture that wasn't much unlike how Marion had touched him just minutes before. 

This was another thing that didn’t make sense. He knew about Marion’s abilities - perhaps more than many others, given how many times it had saved Sean’s life - and that’s not how it worked. It was flashes, glimpses into what was about to happen in the next second or two, barely giving Marion time to react. Never before did Marion talk about something as far away in time as hours or even days. Never before did he gain so much knowledge from those visions. From what Marion had described, every premonition was rooted in fear and violence - an impulse to act, not an open buffet of details.

(And Sean knew Marion wasn’t bluffing or pulling those names out of his ass. He knew what Marion looked like when he tried to deceive someone. And Draven’s reaction to the name Silver Flame was hard to miss as well.)

Then, Draven asked the question Sean could feel hanging in the air for the past few minutes. “Would you be able to identify which subway station it was?”

From the corner of his eye, Sean watched Marion’s shoulders drop an inch. He must have known that starting this conversation with their Lightkeeper could lead only to one outcome.

“Yes, sir,” Marion said, because a dirty part of him that was turned into a soldier still clung to him, even after all those years. “With your permission, Sean and I will gather the rest of our Circle and go investigate it at night, when the train traffic will be lower.”

“Of course,” Draven nodded hastily, obviously relieved he didn’t have to ask. Bastard. As if spitting out those words was such a hard job to do compared to everything else. “I would really appreciate it, Mister Collodi. Thank you for sharing this information with us, for once it seems we'll be able to act before something terrible happens. And if you get any more of such visions in the future…”

“I know,” Marion cut him off, standing up from the chair. “Come on, Sean. We should get moving.”

With one last glance at Kingsley and a sloppy half-salute, Sean followed. He waited until they made it to the first floor, hopefully out of Draven’s earshot, before leaning over Marion’s shoulder and saying, “So… Care to explain what the hell is going on?”

Marion stopped, glanced back at Sean, worrying his left thumb into his right hand. Shook his head, as if trying to make unwanted thoughts go away, then started to walk again towards the main door.

"Grab your things, we'll leave them at my place before going to look for others."

Ah, yes. They still had to deal with that conversation.

"Look, this is just a temporary thing, alright?” he lied because he knew that he could get away with it, that Marion didn’t pay as much attention to him as the other way around, so he wouldn’t be able to tell. “I don't need your charity…"

Marion stopped, so abruptly that Sean had almost bumped into him. When he turned, Marion's face was painted in hurt and disbelief that made Sean shut his mouth. "Is that what you think this is? Charity?" Marion scoffed, shaking his head. "I thought you knew me better than that, Sean."

“Marion…”

“No. You listen to me now, Sean” Marion closed his eyes again for a moment, pinched the bridge of his nose between two fingers, gathering his thoughts. “All I know and can believe for now is that, for whatever reason, you decided not to tell me about any of that and now you're trying to feed me some bullshit. I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry that, for whatever reason, you didn’t feel like you could share this with me, but now that I know I can’t just turn my eyes away and pretend like I know nothing, okay? I’m sorry and if there is a way for me to atone for whatever I have done, I will do it. Whatever it takes to make you trust me again.”

What? What kind of a cruel joke was that supposed to be? Sean did his best to keep his homelessness a secret because he didn’t want others to know he was even more of a fuck-up than they could have guessed. 

“But you can’t ask me to ignore this, Sean," Marion continued in a voice that sounded like he was genuinely in pain. "I won’t have you staying here when I can offer you something better. Don’t think even for a second that I’d be okay with just leaving you here with all your problems. We’re family, Sean. You're my family.”

God fucking damn it. That’s exactly why he didn’t want Marion to know about any of this. Because the moment Marion figured it out, he instantly offered to take the blame for everything and help Sean, looking at him with those puppy-brown eyes Sean had always had a hard time saying no to.

Fuck.

Things were different. Things were the same.

They were once again walking down into the subway station, Auntie Bee and Nathaniel taking care of the crowd, making sure nobody would be there to get hurt, should they fail.

It was weeks earlier than the last time, which meant they had to enter through another station to reach that one portion of the tunnel; Groundswell wasn’t scheduled to open for the next month and a half, the construction still in progress, crates of metal bolts and equipment standing further inside the tunnel they had to take. At least that meant the danger of a train crushing them was close to zero this time around.

Things were different. Things were the same.

“Careful,” Marion put his hands on Jinnah’s hips and helped her down on the tracks, the doctor blushing furiously at the close proximity. He could hear Nathaniel clearing his throat somewhere behind him. When he looked up, he saw Sean quickly averting his gaze from the two of them, making Marion’s heart sink.

They didn’t talk much after leaving the Chapter House (without Sean's things. He didn't even grace Marion with any response other than "We've got a job to do, Mar. It's not the time for this talk." When would be the time, though? What's the procedure of asking your best friend, the person you have loved for over a decade, when they have stopped trusting you? Marion didn't know if he had the courage to ask.), the silence between them heavy until they’ve made it to Nathaniel’s house. Once their former LT joined them, Sean slipped effortlessly into his usual easy-going persona.

It hurt. Marion couldn’t remember the last time Sean was angry with him and maybe that’s why it was so hard to keep himself from glancing towards the other man over and over again, trying to deduce why his proposition had upset Sean so much. Why couldn't they just go back to being fine.

“Are you alright?” Jean’s voice came from his side as Marion took a lantern, shining it at the dark tunnel, trying to see the future in shapes there.

“Yeah, I’m okay.”

“Are you sure? You seem… off,” at that moment Sean took the shotgun off of his back and started to wander into the tunnel, walking just a few steps past them, the light of the lantern illuminating his back. Marion couldn’t stop his gaze from following him. Next to him, Jinnah hummed. “Ah, did you argue with Mister Finnerty?”

“What?” Marion looked back at her, words of deflection already forming on his tongue but Marion stopped himself when he saw the look in Jinnah’s eyes. He sighed. “It’s… complicated. Or maybe not. I don’t know. I just need some time to figure it out, I guess.”

“I see,” Jinnah nodded as the two of them continued to follow the rest at some distance. It was hard to say whether the rest was moving a little quicker, allowing them some privacy or if the two of them were instinctively slowing their pace. “You know, you promised me an explanation, or at least a chance to get some tests done. The first part isn't needed anymore, I believe, but I'd still like to check on you once we're done here. To make sure you're alright from the medical standpoint.”

“Right, sorry,” Marion smiled at her sheepishly. “Today’s not really going as I imagined it would.”

Understatement of the century, really.

“I can assure you, you’re not alone in that sentiment.”

Marion watched her for a bit as they marched in silence, gravel crouching under their feet. Then he reached towards Jinnah’s sleeve, not really tugging at it, just holding the bit of fabric between his fingers. “I should probably apologize for startling you earlier today.”

“I…” Jinnah cleared her throat but didn’t move away from him. She looked flustered, kept avoiding his eyes but somehow it felt drastically different from the silent treatment Sean was giving him. “I take it that something in my behavior gave out the nature of my affections for you?"

"If that makes you feel any better: you did a very good job hiding them."

"And yet you figured it out. How long did you know?”

“Not that long.”

“But how…?”

Instead of answering, Marion let their hands touch and gave Jinnah a light squeeze. “Once we’re in the lighthouse, I won’t be able to really help you with the astrolabe but I’ll make sure nothing comes your way. Just be careful, alright?”

Jinnah looked at him, confused. “What lighthouse?”

“Hey, lovebirds!” Sean shouted from where he was standing nearby the metal plate covering the entrance to the side tunnel. The rope was already affixed at the top. “You wanna help Doc, Mar? When you get to the other side I’ll help Auntie Bee.”

“Sure. And Sean-” Marion took the rope from the other man’s hand but as he spoke his name, Sean was already turning and walking away, shotgun pointed at the empty, quiet tunnel.

A cold sensation was swirling inside Marion’s chest, pulsing through his scar.

A small, gloved hand was placed on Marion’s back, the touch so light he could barely feel it. “Marion?”

He shook his head and turned back to Jinnah. “Come on, we should get going.”

Chapter Text

They still had to make it through the squid dogs but fortunately there weren’t as many of them as the last time - a dozen at most and Marion came prepared, carrying a bag of kibble. All of them made it up into the lighthouse without injuries, no blood was trickling down Sean’s forearm as he had pulled himself over the bent rods of the railing and that felt like a small blessing. Like, maybe, Marion had a chance to truly set things right.

Encouraged by that small victory, Marion led them through the nausea-inducing inside of the building, vertigo creeping its way into their minds as they climbed the stairs the wrong way around and watched the remnants of a smashed lightbulb still fixed by the cord to what was now a floor. He was careful, signaling for the rest to wait as he inched closer to the turn in the hall, the same place where Marion remembered the Thinning to be, where the monster had waited for them and attacked.

But this was a different time and the monster wasn’t there.

“Are you alright, sweet boy?” Auntie Beatrix asked him.

“Yeah,” Marion replied, even if the realization that he had no clue whether the monster was waiting for them behind the next corner or wasn’t there at all started to worry him. When a person knew nothing, they could stay ready for everything. However, if they had some idea of what to expect, they often fell prey to looking primarily for that one thing, giving other terrors the opportunity to attack them from behind. “We should be careful, though. I don’t like this place.”

Auntie Bee simply nodded, “You and me both. I swear to God, my back started to kill me as soon as we stepped into this tunnel.”

Marion looked at her in sympathy and offered her his arm to grab onto as they continued to climb the stairs.

Getting upstairs (downstairs?) to the astrolabe was nerve wracking but thankfully they didn’t encounter any dangers on their way there.

“What do you think, Doctor Basar?” Nathaniel asked Jinnah as she was inspecting the Flare with her bleed detector. “Will you be able to close this before something decides to pay us a visit?”

“It’s relatively small and, thanks to Marion, I was able to take proper equipment,” she added with a shy smile, glancing briefly in Marion’s direction. “If you give me some time I should be able to seal it carefully, so that we won’t have to deal with any bleed incidents in this area.”

“How much time?”

“Hard to tell. Fifteen minutes? Maybe more than that.”

At that, Sean stopped looking around the room, apparently satisfied with the results of his inspection and looked straight at Marion for what felt like the first time since they’ve entered the subway. “How’s the weather forecast for the next fifteen minutes?”

“I… don’t know.”

“Copy that,” Sean nodded and started to head out of the room.

It was a part of the drill - Sean and Marion playing security while the others tended to the more delicate work, be it dealing with people or, in this case, a piece of complex machinery. As such, it was only natural for Marion to walk after him.

“Marion,” Nathaniel’s hand grabbed him by the bicep, stopping him from moving. “You two are gonna play nice, yes?”

“Of course, LT.”

Nathaniel’s hand held him for a moment, stormy eyes searching for something in Marion’s face, the intensity of that stare confusing the younger man. When it looked like Nathaniel had found whatever it was he was looking for, he released Marion, pushing him lightly towards the door as he said. “If anything that appears, shoot on sight.”

“Yessir.”

Stepping outside the room, Marion half-expected to find Sean leaning against the wall, eyes focused on the corridor while fingers of his left hand danced aimlessly across the barrel, tapping out a rhythm of "Take me to the ball game". His right hand would be steady on the trigger though. Ready to act as soon as he saw the monster. Marion knew that, should this be the case, Sean would have been listening with one ear to the conversations inside, dividing his attention to try and make sure nothing weird happened. He would have caught Marion's eye and raised an eyebrow at him, smirked in the way that said God, I really wish I could have a smoke right now.

But Sean wasn't standing by the wall. He was patrolling, moving in short, measured steps, heels of his boots clicking softly against the dirt-covered floor.

step, step, step

He looked more like a soldier that he had in weeks. It was always more prominent during the assignments, the way Sean's back straightened and his eyes became more distant, but usually those moments of intensity were broken by a provocative joke and a grin.

Maybe that was Marion's main mistake. Allowing himself to be lured into a false sense of everything being alright.

"Sean?" It was barely a whisper and for a moment Marion thought Sean didn't hear him.

step, step, step

"Hm?" an inquisitive hum. But the patrolling didn't stop, not even for a second.

There was a faint, dripping sound coming from one of the floors above them - most probably a broken sewage pipe that ran underneath Newfaire slowly but surely letting water and waste find its way into this cavern and inside the lighthouse.

This must have been a nice place at one point. Glancing around, it was easy for Marion to imagine this place in its full glory - brown carpet that since then has dissolved into a moldy mess; furniture when it wasn’t yet broken by the fall and rotten by time (a table and three stools here, what looked like a bookcase in that corner over there). A lighthouse. A symbol of hope, a landmark that helped wayward travelers to find their way home. A machinery designed by early members of Candela hidden in the heart of it all, adding another layer of protection even if denizens of Newfaire were never meant to learn about it.

Now, after the ground gave in and buried the entire building, after it became a forgotten graveyard that the monsters from beyond the Flare had found their new home in, the best thing this place could hope for was a crate full of explosives.

Marion inhaled and braced himself to break the already cracked pretense Sean seemed so eager to keep up for as long as he could.

“You should come live with me.”

To his credit, Sean didn’t seem startled at all when Marion said it. He didn’t even look back at him, continuing to march from one wall to the other as he sighed. “Not your best idea, Mar.”

Marion clicked his tongue. It was way past the point where Marion was just mildly frustrated with Sean’s antics. The stress of the last few hours combined with the crushing weight that dawned on Marion now that he had finally started to process all the things that had happened to him and what they meant was too much to hold in anymore. He was jittery. Like he could break and crumble at any moment and Marion could not afford that.

And then there was Sean. That one person who was always there to calm Marion down, to help him make all those confusing thoughts and emotions go quiet but this time, instead of helping, Sean was adding more fuel to the fire, pouring gallons of gas onto Marion’s head and carrying a box of matches in the other in case some miracle happened and Marion hadn’t ignited on his own.

But, despite all of that, despite wanting to snap at him and yell and punch him in that stupid, handsome mouth, Marion couldn’t bring himself to be really angry at Sean. The moment he thought the bubble would finally burst, the only emotion that flooded Marion was bone-deep tiredness and resignation.

Marion rubbed a hand across his beard, “Why do you have to make everything so difficult, Sean?”

That had finally made Sean turn to face him, although the look on Sean’s face - a strange mixture of shock and bitterness - caught Marion off guard.

“Difficult? Me?” Sean scoffed, shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe Marion just said that. “Oh, I'm sorry Mar, but is it really me, who's making things difficult and confusing?”

Marion frowned. “What do you mean?” Only because he watched Sean so intently did he notice the slightest twitch around Sean’s eyes right before the corner of his mouth turned upward in a smirk. Marion knew all those signs very well, he studied them most of his life with the same devotion some have studied the Book of Ascension - Sean was switching gears and preparing to deflect once again.

“Well,” when Sean started again, his voice had that subtle drawl he used whenever he wanted to be charming. But the change of tone or the way his posture relaxed ever so slightly didn’t hide that his gray eyes were far from smiling. “First of all, don't you think you've skipped a few steps there, pal? You just came in this morning, asking big questions right off the bat. Jesus, Mar, at least ask the guy to dinner first, buy him flowers, show some manners. What would Auntie Bee say if she heard you behaving like some no-good heathen? Or even worse, like you’re one of them Red Lamp Raiders."

"I have given you many flowers.”

“Yeah, potted plants to ‘brighten my place’. Doesn’t really count, buddy.”

“So what? If I give you roses and ask you out for dinner, that’ll do it? Is this going to make you stay with me?"

"It's gonna make me ask you when and how hard you've hit your head. You've already got yourself a sweetheart, Mar. You should be asking her to move in with you."

Now this looked like saying that hurt Sean.

Oh. Could that be it? Was Sean afraid that Marion’s relationship with Jinnah, whatever it may end up being, would mean a shift in their dynamic? It was hard for Marion to imagine the world in which that would be the case; the bond between Sean and him was too special to be left behind only because he had finally connected with Jinnah. The entire idea that Marion would have to make any kind of choice between the two of them was… ridiculous. 

“Sean, you know that nothing between us has to change just because Jinnah’s there, right? You’re still important to me. I would, and probably will, jump into fire after you. I care for you and that’s not going to change, ever.”

“ Tsk. You’re so good it makes you naive, Mar,” Sean exhaled, his shoulders dropping like he had just accepted defeat and started to turn back away. “It's not a good time for this talk, anyway.” 

Irritation started to bubble inside Marion’s chest. He didn’t like it when Sean treated him like a child. “Oh? And when will that be? The good time to talk? When we get back to the surface and you continue to avoid me? Sean, at least look at me when I’m talking to…” the rest of the sentence never came to be.

Marion grabbed Sean by the shoulder and forced him to turn back but as soon as Sean was looking at Marion, his right hand was lifting the shotgun to his shoulder, legs falling apart to counter the kickback, eyes steady on the target.

Words weren’t necessary. An instinct moved Marion’s muscles, making him drop and roll to the side where he knew he wouldn’t be interrupting.

A single shot. The second one wouldn’t come and Marion knew that - Sean was too good of a marksman to waste even a single bullet. 

The body of the creature fell from the ceiling and down on the floor, its long, spider-like limbs no longer moving. Before he could fully register the thud of a dropping body, Marion was already taking a familiar position, standing next to Sean, their shoulders pressed together, facing partially away from each other to keep an eye on the most of the space around them, their only blindspot being the entrance to the room where Nathaniel and ladies currently were. Sean reloaded, Marion unholstered his gun.

They waited in a tense silence, Sean with his shotgun, Marion with a pistol in hand, anticipating all hell to break loose any moment now and ready to face it, arm in arm.

A moment passed. And another.

Finally, after agonizingly long half a minute when nothing happened, Sean whistled and stepped back, the warmth of him peeling away from Marion. Sean slung his shotgun back over his shoulder. “Well, that was anticlimactic. Thought there'd be more of these suckers running around, ready to jump and bite our throats out.”

“Do you… really think that’s it?”

“I dunno. Do you?” Sean glanced back at Marion, one eyebrow cocked. “You’re the expert on what’s going to happen, aren’t you?”

Before Marion could answer, a sound of quick footsteps came from behind them. Nathaniel ran out of the room, brass knuckles on, eyes darting around until he spotted the two of them standing over the creature’s corpse. He faltered in his steps. “Jesus Christ.” Tentatively, he walked closer to them and the lying creature, poking its side with the tip of his boot, then taking a step back with disgust written all over his face. “What a beauty. Everything alright?”

“Peachy,” Sean murmured. Then, tiling his head towards the room Nathaniel came from, “How’s the sewing class in there? Almost done?”

“So it seems. Doctor Basar seems to have everything under control,” Nathaniel wrinkled his nose as he looked at the deep shadows of the lighthouse’s corridor, as if the darkness itself had a foul stench to it. “Can’t wait to get the hell out of this place, it’s giving me creeps.”

“So… That’s really it? We’re done? Everyone gets a cookie and a pat on the back and we can go home?”

‘Yes, your current assignment is on hold for now, Mister Finnerty, since there are no further leads to investigate as of now,” Draven said as he finished a first draft of their report - a page and a half scribbled over in shorthand. “Of course our work is still far from done on a grand scale and Candela will certainly call for you…”

“...when they need us. Yes, yes, we know. We’ve done this before.”

Draven smiled at that. “Well then, if that’s all…”

“Actually,” Nathaniel cleared his throat. “Kingsley, would it be possible to know where Candela had put young Lucas and his father? I can’t help but feel… A little responsible for looking after the boy. I was thinking about sending them a little money, just to help them start over in the new place, or at least keep them comfortable for the time being.”

Draven seemed to consider that for a moment before saying, “In fact, I believe they’re still in Newfaire, staying with another member of Candela until their transport out of town is arranged. If you’d like to, I can go and fetch the address for you, Lieutenant Trapp.”

“I would be most grateful.”

“Of course. Just wait here a moment, please.” Draven said and left the room. 

On Marion’s left side, Auntie Bee was trying to wipe some of the mud from her cloak. Nathaniel took out his notepad and started to write something down while Jinnah and Sean started to talk amongst themselves. Marion leaned over the table, putting elbows on the wooden surface and pushing the heels of his hands against his eyes. He was tired, his body aching after staying tense for so long and he could feel a splitting headache slowly creeping into his temples.

He was tired and that day seemed to be endless. Well, the ‘day’ wasn’t an accurate description anymore, not with the way a new sunrise was about to break over the horizon, the sky tinted pink and not polluted yet by factories’ fumes. Marion’s been awake for a full day but it felt like much longer, especially with the weeks worth of memories still scratching at the back of his mind. That strange vision (because that’s what it was, right? There was no other logical explanation for it) was so much different than what he was used to and it threw him off balance, making it hard to focus and to separate what could have been from what actually was.

It felt weird to look at LT’s face and be taken aback by the fact that he had two working eyes. To be surprised by the lack of bruises on Sean’s face. To see and feel the strong, dextrous fingers of Jinnah with their tips covered in flesh and skin, not flames. 

Marion inhaled. Exhaled. Tried to calm his mind, put himself into a meditative state that usually helped him with focusing on the task. But it was a long day and his hands were burning from climbing the rope into the lighthouse and the sounds of the other people inside the room were more distracting than usual.

So Marion opened his eyes again and looked, hoping that seeing the reality would help him dispel the confusion brought by a dream.

“...even LT called her a beauty! I say we call her Bella,” Sean accented his last word by slamming a hand on the table.

“That would be insensitive,” Jinnah said, tugging at her gloves, eyes focused on her hands instead of Sean. This wasn’t a sign of disrespect and they all knew that - Jinnah simply didn’t like to make direct eye contact as, on a rare occasion when that happened, she stared at the other person’s eyes with the intensity that usually made her interlocutor deeply uncomfortable. “We don’t know enough about this species to call it that.”

“Then what would you propose, Doc?” Sean leaned back in his chair, a lazy grin on his face. “Some smart latin or whatever?”

“No. I’d say we should use a nice, neutral name, like Charlie,” a small, content smile appeared on Jinnah's face. Across from her, Sean threw his head back and let out a hearty laugh.

The sight of both of them just being like that, close and relaxed in each other’s company, silenced some of Marion’s exhaustion.

A sound of breaking glass came to them from the other room.

In an instant, Marion’s body tensed. He could see Nathaniel freezing with a notepad still in hand and Sean’s face changing back to being serious.

“Draven? Are you okay?” Nathaniel called out while already standing up from his chair. Marion and Sean mimicked his move, reaching out for their guns, ready to fall into a formation and check what had happened.

But before they could make it to the door, a black shape barged into the room, the too-long limbs trampling Nathaniel who was the closest one to the room entrance and climbing at the table with insane speed, barrelling straight at Jinnah who could only raise her hands and scream as the monster’s gaping maw opened in front of her and let out a horrifying, otherworldly screech, saliva-like black ichor dripping down its beak. It was too close to her too shoot it without hurting Jinnah and it was still moving and biting down and sinking its teeth deeper and deeper and deeper-

rewind

“...even LT called her a beauty! I say we call her Bella,” Sean accented his last word by slamming a hand on the table.

Marion jumped from his chair, leaving it to fall backwards as he sprinted out of the room.

His footsteps echoed through the corridor, his heartbeat a deafening sound inside his head as he ran towards Draven’s office, one hand moving to his belt, only to realize that in his hurry he didn’t take his gun from where it was laying on the table.

No time to go back for it. He had to keep the creature away from the others.

Quickly grabbing a silvered candlestick that stood on a cabinet in the corridor, Marion barged into Draven’s office, not even fully noticing a second pair of footsteps that was following less than two seconds behind him.

“Hey!” Marion yelled, hurling the candlestick towards the creature and hitting the back of its head.

The monster - who just a moment before was holding Draven aloft, choking him while the other clawed hand prepared to strike into his chest - shrieked and let go of their Lightkeeper, turning to face Marion with another screech. In that split second, Marion had already grabbed a chair standing nearby, treating it like a shield as he charged at the monster, using it to keep himself away from the reach of the monster's claws as he pushed it against the wall, pinning it in place.

It was obvious that this thing was stronger than Marion; it almost knocked him on his back the first time it tried to break free. Here’s the thing, though: Marion knew he didn’t have to win. He just had to buy enough time for Sean and Nathaniel to get there and kill that thing.

The creature swung at him, sharp claws digging into Marion’s back. The hit didn’t hurt like a slashing or piercing wound should - instead, it was an overwhelming cold spreading inside Marion’s body, pulsing through his veins, causing his muscles to stop, threatening to do the same to his heart. He could feel himself dropping to his knees, the backrest of the chair slipping from his hands as he clutched the front of his shirt, gasping for air he wasn’t allowed to breathe in.

Not too far away, someone else was shouting. A shot rang through the room. Another loud crash of glass. Someone was moving, getting closer to Marion, but all of that felt like it was happening behind a curtain. The only thing Marion could clearly remember before the world went dark was a whisper that filled the inside of his head when the monster connected with him:

An empty vessel… How curiousss…

Chapter Text

When he woke up, the first thing Marion became aware of was a trembling hand cupping his cheek. The second one was an arm circling around his shoulders, pulling him close against a firm chest. The third one, as he finally opened his eyes, was that he was lying on the floor  in a dimly lit room.

"Sean?” he mumbled, trying to blink away the fog that clouded his vision. Everything was a little hazy, but he would recognise that unruly mop of auburn hair anywhere. The arm holding him brought Marion even closer as he stirred. From above him, he could hear Sean exhale in relief. Marion let out a weak laugh. “I had the craziest dream."

"If it had a monster in it and you tried to play a hero again then I’m pretty sure that wasn't a dream, buddy."

There was something about that voice… It didn't feel right. Marion squinted his eyes. “Sean? Are you crying?”

“Like hell I am,” Sean sounded angry but his hand on Marion's cheek remained gentle. “You fuckin’ maniac, what is wrong with you? Running out like this, then jumping in front of that creature? With a chair!? Guns exist for a reason, asshole!”

Ah. So that wasn’t a dream after all.

Marion let his head lean back again for a moment, eyes closed as he tried to focus on piecing back shards of memories. His eyes blinked open, “How’s Kingsley?”

“Doc’s taking care of him,” Sean gestured with his chin to his right. Moving his attention there, Marion saw Jinnah and Beatrix kneeling over Kingsley’s body, their Lightkeeper letting out a soft wail of pain as Jinnah finished wrapping a bandage around his head. “Looks like that thing beat him up pretty nasty but he’s still breathing. Thanks to you, no doubt.”

“Good, good…” Marion nodded, sense of relief washing over him. “Help me up?”

Leaning heavily against Sean’s arm, Marion managed to sit up on the floor and get a chance to properly look at the room around. The Lightkeeper’s office wasn’t usually a very cluttered space - most of the items kept in the chapter house were kept in the archive room before being sent to Candela’s headquarters, wherever that may be. But even those few things that were in there - folders with old reports and their personal files - were scattered around the floor, some pages marked with drops of red blood and black ichor. Remains of a chair that Marion had used were now lying broken on the floor. Glass window has been completely destroyed.

“It jumped out of the window after I’ve put some bullets in it,” Sean explained. He stayed close to Marion, crouching next to him, his voice slowly regaining its usual, playful tones, even if they were still a little strained. “That was some good pitching there, Mar. If you can switch from candlesticks to baseballs, we could make half a decent player out of you.”

An involuntary chuckle came out of Marion’s mouth as he realized how ridiculous that whole scene had to look like from the outsider’s perspective. “Good Lord, did I really throw a candlestick at an eldritch monster?”

“Yup,” Sean loudly popped the ‘p’ on the end of the word.

"And I thought running on top of a moving train was a lot," Marion whispered quietly under his breath.

Apparently, he wasn’t quiet enough.

Sean frowned, "The hell? What are you up to when I'm not around, Collodi? Always thought bringing you into something reckless was my job,” he raised an eyebrow. “Should I be jealous of you having a bit on the side?"

"Jealous? You? Never," Marion grinned at him but instead of cracking a smile, Sean’s face fell. Something tightened inside Marion’s chest as he remembered that they weren't on the best of terms at the moment. He shifted his gaze downwards, at his hands. Then he asked, “Are you still mad at me?”

For a moment, Sean simply looked at him. Then he shook his head, raised one hand to straighten Marion's shirt for him, adjust the collar. “That thing fucked you up real good, huh?” Sean's hand lingered on Marion's shoulder as he bit on the inside of his cheek, his eyes darting down to Marion’s neck and back up to meet his eyes.

I'm not going to say it, but you should look.

Another flash of a memory. A claw reaching for Marion. Coldness and pain. Words appearing inside his mind out of nowhere.

“Ah,” was all Marion said, his hand reaching up, tracing the bulging veins that spread up his neck. 

Sean didn't take his hand away even for a moment, his thumb moving over the fabric of Marion's shirt, rubbing soothing circles in there. “It adds to the charm,” Sean said, in that not-quite-right voice of someone who not so long ago was dangerously close to shedding tears but decided to be brave instead.

Marion ignored that for a moment, closing his eyes and letting his hand move across his neck, trying to feel the shape of the scar, paint a picture of it in his mind and compare it to that from the vision he had.

Huh. So some things wouldn't change.

Well… would not or could not?

Jinnah’s fingers pressed along Kingsley’s elbow and forearm, trying to feel if anything was amiss. “No cracks in the skull or any broken bones as far as I can tell. Photopupilary reflex in norm. Trachea appears to be intact. He’s responsive but confused, his reflexes slightly slowed, but that’s to be expected so soon after experiencing a head trauma. The wound structure is fascinating though,” her eyes fell back to the bandage wrapped around Kingsley’s shoulder. “The scarcity of blood would suggest cauterization, however the way muscle tissue looks is closer to dermatitis than…”

“Jean, darling, simpler language so an old woman can understand, please?”

Ah. Right.

“He'll live,” she said to Beatrix. In her experience that was the first thing people wanted to know. “However he may suffer from a concussion, so someone with at least some medical knowledge should monitor his condition for the next few days and make sure to change his bandages and keep an eye on this wound. His memory may be patchy for a little while but it’s nothing some rest won’t fix.”

With Bea’s help, finishing to patch up Kingsley didn’t take long; they were mostly done by the time Nathaniel came back inside, a revolver Jinnah has never seen him use before fitting in Nathaniel’s hand like it’s been there the whole time.

“Do you think it followed us back here all the way from the subway?” Nathaniel asked when they gathered around, Kingsley still on the floor with his head propped up, once again unconscious but reasonably safe for the time being..

“Can’t think of any other explanation,” Auntie Bee said. “Even we’re not unlucky enough to attract two different sets of monsters in less than twenty-four hours.”

“So what now? We strike back? Hunt it down before it has time to lick its wounds?” Sean suggested. There was uneasiness written all over his tensed shoulders, a buzzing of adrenaline still coursing through his veins.

“No,” Nathaniel shook his head, fingers scratching the short beard covering his chin. “This thing seems very good at hiding, I couldn’t find a single trace of it; it was as if it vanished into thin air. It could hide anywhere in the city and we’re far from our best,” his gaze landed suggestively on Kingsley, then moved towards Marion who still looked pale and unsure on his feet.

It was hard to stop herself from rushing straight to his side when Jinnah made it to the office and saw him for the first time - lying on his side and sobbing, not fully conscious but not blessed with peace of oblivion either. But her duties as a doctor required Jinnah to help those who were hurt and whose life was in danger, so she peeled her eyes away from Marion’s body twitching on the floor and made her way towards the bleeding Kingsley. Besides, Mister Finnerty was already there, at Marion’s side, and she had to trust he would take care of Marion.

Seeing the way Sean didn’t leave Marion’s side even for a moment, Jinnah knew she had nothing to worry about. As the conversation continued, she caught Sean’s eyes and gave him a silent nod. He responded in kind.

“Then what’s the plan, Mister Trapp?”

“Kingsley mentioned he alerted the other circle, the one you’ve mentioned to him, isn’t that right, Marion?”

“Yes. The circle of Silver Flame.”

“Then we should assume someone higher up in the Candela has been made aware of the situation, at least partially, and is already working on figuring out the best course of action. We can’t reach out to them anyway, not given Kingsley’s state at the moment.”

“I could go to the other chapter house,” Sean proposed. He turned to look at Marion. “Do you know the address? Or any landmarks nearby?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Nathaniel said before Marion could reply. “If they were notified about the danger, the most sensible option would be to close the chapter house for a time being. You going there wouldn’t help, it’d only make it easier for the monster to follow  you, especially if it really knows about the other group. And that’d mean you could lead it straight back to us.”

“Then what do we do? Hide all over the town until we get better and hope it doesn’t get to us first? We’d be sitting like ducks during the hunting season. There’s no way a single person could deal with that thing.”

“And they won’t. We will take advantage of the fact the creature had gone into hiding for now and won’t be able to follow us directly from here. As far as we know, there's only one of these monsters running around. We should split, make it have to work twice as hard while keeping both groups balanced - someone capable of protecting as well as someone who’s more vulnerable for now. I say Mister Kingsley stays with me since I'll be able to organize a quick and discreet way of delivering messages once he's feeling better.”

Jinnah was watching her hands, the crimson stain on the edge of her sleeve, a bit of blood smeared across her fingers where she had pressed at Draven’s seeping wound. Some of it was stuck under her nails.

As a doctor, she had her duties.

As a human, she was imperfect.

“You should take Beatrix with you, Lieutenant. She'll help you look after Mister Kingsley during his convalescence,” Jinnah said, eyes not moving from her hands. She was going to have to find a pair of gloves for herself before leaving - walking like this on the streets wouldn't do. “Marion and Mister Finnerty will be staying with me at my house.”

“Mathilda?” Jean called out once they'd reached her house, two gentlemen walking after her into a narrow foyer. She could hear the sound of her housekeeper’s hurried footsteps as the middle-aged woman in a simple dress made her way down the stairs.

“Miss Basar? I didn’t expect you to come home so early,” the housekeeper greeted her.

“Could you prepare two guest bedrooms upstairs?” Jinnah asked as she removed her coat, letting the gloves stay on until she could wash her hands properly. “Lead the gentlemen there and make sure they’re comfortable. Oh, and you can take the rest of the week off, Mathilda. I will call for you, should I need your assistance.”

“Certainly, Miss Basar.”

With that, Jean climbed up the stairs, disappearing inside her room. Once she was there, she beelined towards the vanity standing against one of the walls. She took off her gloves and threw them onto the dresser, leaning with her bare hands clutched around the edge of the wood, looking straight at her expression in the mirror.

Her hair was a mess, several dark locks no longer held by the pins and hanging freely around her face that grew pale from exhaustion and stress. She could spot the shadows under her eyes starting to peek from under her makeup.

Exhaling heavily, Jinnah plopped down on the chair, hiding her face in her hands. Almost immediately she sat up straight again, grimacing in disgust when she saw her careless motion caused some of the crusted blood to stick to the roots of her hair.

Great.

She reached for a pitcher of water that had long run cold since Mathilda had prepared it and poured some of it into an empty bowl. Taking a piece of folded cloth, she started to scrub her hands and face.

Was it really roughly twenty-four hours since Marion barged into her home, all panicked eyes and confusing words, acting like he couldn’t discern whether he was awake or still asleep? It felt like much longer. And it felt like some of Mairon’s previous indisposition had been transferred to Jinnah.

It felt like a dream, that sudden surge of affection Marion had shown towards her since that morning. It felt like the dreams she never fully remembered, the ones that made her want to fall back into slumber the second she had woken up. But, unlike those dreams, this has continued, the entire day rife with small gestures of gentle intimacy.

And then the bad thing came, because it always did, and instead of being sensible, Jinnah displayed another sign of lunacy, deciding to follow her greedy wants.

It was obvious to her that her proposition back in the chapter house wasn’t what everyone else had expected her to say. The fact that Sean would go with Marion was indisputable and so should be her going with Mister Kingsley to live with Nathaniel for a while. She was a doctor, after all. It was expected of her to take care of the ill.

But she had proposed this instead, taking a man she was in love with and the other one who was very dear to her under her roof, leaving a patient in the nevertheless competent but not specialized hands of Auntie Bee.

And the worst part? She couldn’t make herself feel bad for it.

Half an hour later, changed into fresh clothes and looking as immaculate as ever, Jean exited her room. Her hands were red and sore under her gloves, a result of scrubbing them too hard and for too long, but nothing in her posture betrayed the discomfort she was feeling. She walked down the corridor, stopping in front of one of the guest bedrooms and giving a soft knock before pushing the door open.

She found Sean sitting on the bed, leaning forward with elbows on his knees, running his thumb over the stitches on his baseball.

“I see Mathilda gave you some clean clothes.”

“She said they were left behind by the guy who used to look over your garden. I’ll make sure to wash them before returning.”

“They were gathering dust somewhere in the storage anyway, so don’t feel pressured to give them back,” Jean said. “I’m just glad they fit you.”

A grunt was all the answer she got. Sean was still, very evidently, avoiding looking at her and his smiles were briefer and less sincere than usual. It was like that since they’ve left the chapter house and though at first she could write it off as Sean staying vigilant, this excuse didn’t really work anymore.

So she was right. She had hoped it was just her imagination, but Sean was, very clearly, uncomfortable around her.

They stayed like that, in awkward silence, for a few moments, Jean running her hands down her skirt, straightening it even though she knew it was impeccable, and Sean acting like inspecting the floorboards under his feet was an all-consuming task.

Finally, it was Sean who spoke up first.

“Doc, you know you didn’t have to do that, right? No matter what Mar had told you, you didn’t have to agree.”

Jinnah frowned, “What are you talking about, Mister Finnerty?”

This was Sean’s turn to be confused as he lifted his gaze to look at her. “You mean he wasn’t the one who asked you to take me too?”

“No. We didn’t have time to talk, with the creature's attack and everything, but no.”

“And before… When we were in the tunnels, did Mar mention anything about me to you?”

Jean thought back to that conversation. “He seemed upset and I figured the two of you had a fall out, but Marion didn’t share any details with me. I thought you of all people knew that’s not the kind of person Marion is.”

Sean visibly deflated at that, his shoulders sinking as he exhaled, hiding his face in his hands for a long moment before steepling them in front of his face, index fingers still touching his mouth as he said, “Fuck.”

Slowly, Jean took the last few steps and sat on the bed next to Sean, not close enough to touch him but nevertheless trying to offer comfort with her presence.

"Listen, I don’t know what has happened between the two of you and I’m not going to assume it can be forgiven like that,” she snapped her fingers. “But what I do know is that Marion cares about you very much and you care about him too and that’s a great first step for fixing things. And I care about both of you and am more than happy to provide you with somewhere safe to stay while there’s danger waiting for us in the streets. I would very much like for you to agree to staying here for your own sake, Mister Finnerty, but if that’s too much to ask for now, then, despite everything, please do it for Marion and me. Don't tell me you can't see how much it means to him to see you safe."

"Yeah, still doesn't mean you're all happy to jump onto the adopting stray cats train with him," Sean scoffed, hiding the baseball back into his pocket.

Jean shook her head. “Marion or not, I’m more than happy to provide you with a place to stay when there’s a monster running around Newfaire. You’ve saved my life countless times by now, Mister Finnerty. Asking you to stay here is, quite literally, the least I could do to repay you.”

He looked down at his hands again. “You didn't look particularly happy when you said that back in the chapter house.”

Jean always thought Sean was distinctly clever in his own way. No matter what persona he liked to maintain in front of the public, no dumb person could respond to the teasing and jokes with the speed of a retort pistol. 

No, Sean wasn’t stupid. But she was starting to believe he could sometimes be too caught up in his own interpretation of things to notice what was actually happening.

“I wasn't happy with myself, Mister Finnerty. It had nothing to do with you,” she said. "You’re not a stray cat a person can pick up and bring home, Sean. You have all the right to do whatever you want. If you decide to walk out of this house, I’m not going to stop you, even though it would make me very sad and worried,” she admitted. After a moment, she continued, “But, if I may be completely honest with you, I always pictured you as more of a dog person,” she said, hoping that would win her a smile. It didn’t quite work but she could feel Sean somewhat relaxing next to her. “Not to mention that your remarks can be quite entertaining from time to time, Mister Finnerty. It would be a shame to lose you."

"Aww, that's so sweet of you, Doc," Sean said. Then he was quiet for a minute, clearly going through his options in his mind. A defeated exhale he finally let out after that long minute filled Jinnah with hope. “Is there… I don’t know, anything I could do in here? I’m not really used to lazing around. You know how it is,” he added with a shrug.

She knew. And she knew even better that this was, most probably, Sean’s attempt to find something to justify his stay. That if he could consider himself useful, see that he was actually doing something instead of just being there, he’d feel way better about himself. This type of restlessness.wasn’t alien to her.

“Well, I’m sure there are a few things…” she tapped her chin in thought. “I have to admit I did a rather poor job of looking after the house with Candela’s work piling up and everything else. I remember Mathilda mentioning the kitchen sink getting clogged quite often, so that’s something you could look into once you’ve rested and if you’re up for the task.”

Sean nodded seriously at her. “Sure. Not a problem.”

“Unfortunately I’m rather useless when it comes to such things, but I’m sure Marion will be more than happy to help you, if you need a second pair of hands,” she suggested and was surprised by the almost comical look of horror on Sean’s face.

“Oh hell no,” he said, shaking his head. “If you've got problems with plants, Mar is your guy but he doesn't know shit about basic house repairs.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. He'd sooner tear out half of the pipes in your kitchen than unclog them,” Sean shuddered, the shift in tone so sudden Jinnah could hardly contain her smile anymore. 

“Well then, it's even more of a reason for me to be happy you've agreed to staying here, isn't it, Mister Finnerty?”

“That’s a pretty fuckin’ low bar but sure, Doc. Whatever you say,” Sean said, then paused. Jean waited for him to continue, watching the way he chewed on his lower lip. When he did, Sean’s voice was quieter than before, almost shy. “Jean… Can I have one request?”

“Aside from not making Marion help you with the sink? Of course,” Jinnah replied readily. “Is there anything I can get for you? Something to eat? An extra blanket?”

“Nah, all of this,” he gestured around the humble room, “is great and more than I need, really. But perhaps it’s time you start calling me Sean, huh?”

Jean blinked in confusion, a frown appearing once more on her face. “I do call you that, sometimes.”

“Yeah,” Sean scoffed. “When you’re nagging about me being an idiot and jumping head first into danger, or whatever…”

“You do tend to do that a lot.”

“Hey, I’m not gonna disagree,” Sean raised both of his hands up. “All I’m saying is, it'd probably make sense for you to start calling me by my name if we’re going to spend the next few days living together.”

A weight she didn’t realize was there lifted from Jinnah’s shoulders. At least he was talking about it now like he wasn’t considering running away the moment they turned their eyes away from him. “I think that can be arranged, Sean.”

Chapter Text

Waking up to the sound of people already moving downstairs made Marion feel things that were hard to describe. He could feel his breath catching in his throat at the sight of Jinnah and Sean, well and laughing, sitting side by side for breakfast. He couldn't have stopped the most stupid smile from blooming on his face no matter how hard he tried. At that moment, even the thought of a monster being on the loose wasn't as terrifying.

However, the monster was still something they had to take care of, so once Sean had excused himself and Jinnah mentioned she had some work to do in her study, Marion asked her if she had any maps to spare.

“I want to try to figure out where that monster could go,” he explained. “It's a long shot but maybe something will ping once I have a map in front of me.”

The rest of the day (so the few hours before sundown, as they've slept in after an eventful night) was filled with pouring over a mess of street names dotting the complex city plans Jinnah had access to thanks to her previous arrangement with EONS. Trying to decipher symbols and thinking back to all he knew about the creature, Marion tried to predict or sense what its next move could be now that so many things have changed.

It was in a rush, hence breaking into chapter house while they were there. It was injured, again. Probably without as much information or reinforcement now that they've closed the Thinning.

That meant it was desperate and desperate meant dangerous.

But there was no clue what “dangerous” would mean for their future.

They could, of course, check out the place where Marion knew the other Thinning was supposed to appear, the one calling for the creature’s Mother, but going there himself, as a vessel, was too dangerous and could make certain things happen even if he had thought they'd managed to dodge that bullet. On the other hand, sending the rest of the circle without going himself was something Marion would never propose. No matter how he looked at that, the only sensible solution seemed to be waiting for Kingsley to recover and try to convince him to send someone else, or at very least to give them resources to defend themselves.

At some point Jean stopped by, bringing him tea and offering to try and help by using a pendulum that used to belong to her father, but all was in vain. After hours of trying to sense the slightest shift of energy, they had to admit their defeat.

“Looks like we'll have to wait for Kingsley to get better,” Marion said bitterly, massaging his temples as the beginning of a headache started to settle there. It frustrated him how clueless he was once again. Maybe that sudden spark of clarity the day before had spoiled him, made him forget how unpredictable and messy the world usually was.

He didn’t like his visions since they made him watch people he cared about die over and over again, but at least each one rewarded him with a clue about what to do. If there was a choice between blissful oblivion while something bad happens and experiencing horror to make sure others were safe, Marion would always choose the latter, in a heartbeat.

“Seems so,” Jinnah nodded, her voice sounding a little off. Marion looked at her, noticing the way she was tugging at the edges of her sleeves now that she didn’t have her gloves to hide behind.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yes, all's fine. It's just… don't you think Mister- Sean seems to be avoiding us?”

“Ah,” Marion raised his eyebrows, genuinely impressed. “So you've noticed?”

“You did too?”

“Of course. He tends to do that when there's something on his mind,” Marion sighed, rolling the map and putting it back into a carton tube. “I usually give him some space so he can work through the first wave of emotions and then corner him somewhere to have a talk or simply sit him down until he calms down.”

“And how long do you think we should wait?”

“Tomorrow should be good. And by then, he will probably run out of excuses, don't you think?” Marion smiled and reached for Jinnah's hand, squeezing it gently. She returned the squeeze with just the tiniest hint of blush - she was already growing used to his touches and that made Marion's heart light with joy. “Hey. I don't think I had thanked you for taking us both in.”

“It's nothing,” Jean started to shake her head but Marion stopped her with another squeeze.

“It's not nothing and we both know that. And I wanted to specifically thank you for inviting Sean as well. I’m happy to see you two getting along so well.”

Jinnah laughed at that, “Why do both of you act like inviting Sean was so strange? Anyone would do that.”

“That's what you think because you're kind,” Marion stressed the last word. Jinnah knew she was smart and strong and beautiful, but Marion felt like she could use to have someone to remind her that, above all else, she was a good and kind person. “I'm really grateful for the opportunity to stay with you, even if only for a few days and because there's a monster out there trying to hunt us down.”

He said it in a light tone but Jinnah lowered her gaze, chewing on her lower lip as she thought. 

“Perhaps…” she said, eyes focused on their hands and slowly moving her fingers to fit them between Marion's. “Would you like to stay here with me after we're done with the mortal peril we're currently in?”

His first instinct was to pinch himself to see if he wasn't dreaming, but the thrumming of blood rushing through his veins was a pretty good indicator that this was real. Saying yes was all he wanted, but Marion managed to hold his tongue. There was one more thing to discuss before going any further.

“I… Jinnah, I'd like to be a part of your life but I can't just turn my back on Sean. If we ever… if you allow me to share this life with you, I need you to understand that he is going to be a part of it too, one way or another. You are precious to me and I don't want you to ever doubt that, but if you ever ask me to choose between you and him, that would be the most cruel thing you could do to me.”

He waited with his breath held as Jean seemed to consider his words, her eyes focused, head nodding ever so slightly.

“And is that connection you feel to him born from a sense of duty or debt to Sean's brothers or something else?” she finally asked, tilting her head to the side. For Marion, it felt like a punch in the chest.

“What-?” he stuttered, but Jinnah kept going.

“Do you love Sean?”

“He is like a brother to me-”

“Do you actually believe that?” Jinnah interrupted him, looking at him gently, like asking that question was more for Marion's sake than hers.

Marion opened his mouth. Closed it. He knew the answer, of course he did, but it was one of those things there was a silent agreement not to talk about. Countless I love you's being shut down with a bark of Get outta here had taught him as much.

Sensing his discomfort, Jinnah laid a hand on top of his, running a thumb across his knuckles. “It's okay.”

“I love you. I'm in love with you,” he clarified, because she ought to know.

“I understand that. And I'm in love with you too, but that doesn't mean this has to be the only connection like this in your life. Different people's love looks different but it's all valid and beautiful.”

Marion swallowed, trying to wrap his head around what Jinnah was implying without letting himself hope for too much. “And would you…?”

“I don't believe in belonging to someone, only happiness. And if there is a way for all three of us to find it - and I do believe it's possible - then I'm more than willing to put work in doing so.”

There were no words that could express the gratitude that filled the space where his soul would be so instead of wasting air on talking, Marion kissed her.

It was sweet and chaste and felt like the beginning of something tremendous.

In the evening of the second day after moving to Jinnah’s house, the three of them had spent hours in the sitting room; first talking, then simply being in each other’s company while everyone did their own thing (Jinnah read; Sean cleaned and checked all of the guns he had brought with himself; Marion darned his shirt where it had teared during their excursion into the lighthouse). 

The night grew darker and colder, the flames of the fireplace were slowly dying down.

“I’ll go get more wood,” Sean said at some point, jittery and unable to sit still or pretend that he needed to spend any more time taking care of that shotgun.

“I’ll go with you,” Marion offered, setting aside his shirt.

Sean didn’t protest, only shrugged, but Marion could feel the tension radiating from the other man. He could hear his irritation in quick steps and Sean not keeping the door open for him as they walked out into the garden and headed towards the shed where the firewood was kept.

It’s been like that the whole day - Sean making himself scarce whenever Jinnah or Marion had entered the room; coming late to meals and excusing himself with being caught up in countless little repairs around the house. 

It worried Marion, that insistence on not being present. At first he thought that maybe Sean was just feeling guilty for not shooting the monster dead, but that couldn’t be it. Failure always ended in adding to Sean’s determination and focused-on-the-task Sean looked completely different than this.

The second explanation for Sean’s strange behavior was more troubling because it had to do with things Marion didn’t know how to deal with. Given what he had gleaned from the rare moments of peeking under Sean’s mask of humor and sarcasm, this could be Sean once again shutting himself off because he didn’t want to ask for help.

Sean behaved a little like a stray, Marion realized. Careful in accepting small comforts being given his way, wary of getting used to gentler things because one day all of it could be taken away from him, leaving him even more hurt for letting some of the armor slip off.

It broke Marion’s heart to think Sean could really see it that way, that they’d throw him away the moment the most immediate danger had passed. So this entire day, Marion had tried to comfort Sean, to help him relax the same way he had done back in the trenches, convey I’ve got you without using words. He put a hand on Sean’s shoulder when walking by him, sat close enough for their thighs to touch. This kind of physical closeness was the most natural thing for Marion and it had worked on Sean many times in the past.

Not now, though. Now, all those small touches had achieved was Sean leaning away or shooting him a strange look or - in one case, when Marion had put a hand on Sean’s lower back while passing behind him in the narrow hallway when Sean was busy changing the lightbulb - Sean fully flinching away from him.

If touches didn’t work, then the only thing left, no matter how awful both of them were at it, was words.

“You’ve been acting weird.”

“Is that so?” Sean didn’t even look at him, hanging the lantern on the hook and fishing out from his pocket the key to the shed’s padlock.

“I’ve talked with Jinnah.”

“Hm.”

“She asked me to move in with her. For good,” Marion observed Sean carefully, but the other man didn’t seem surprised at all by that revelation. “And we want you to live here with us too.”

The old key fell out of Sean’s hands.

“...Marion, please tell me this is your very bad attempt at joking,” Sean said, his voice low and dangerous.

“What? Of course I’m not joking! I already talked with Jinnah and she’d be more than happy to-” Marion started to walk closer to him but stopped abruptly when Sean looked up, his eyes like two dots of boiling steel, burning with fury.

“I asked you to tell me you’re joking Mar,” Sean gritted out. “Because I’m giving you a chance to not get punched in your stupid face.”

Marion frowned, confused.

“Why are you angry?”

“Why? Oh, I don’t know, maybe because you’ve been acting like a complete asshole since this morning?” Sean threw his hands up, voice raising almost to a yell. “I know you’re a handsy guy and more often than not you don’t mean anything by that but fucking control yourself! How do you think Jinnah felt, watching you touch me all over?”

“What? Sean, let me explain…”

“I really don’t think I am the one you should be explaining things to, Mar. You know what you should do? Go back there, get on your fucking knees and apologise to her. She’s a good one, Marion. Don’t you dare to fuck it up just because you’re an idiot.”

“No, you don’t understand!” Marion shouted back. “I would never do anything to hurt Jean. She was worried about you too, asshole! And I don’t know what you’re thinking but I didn’t pressure her into anything - she wants you to stay here as much as I do!”

Sean opened his mouth but didn’t say anything immediately. He clicked his tongue, shaking his head, still looking angry. "Even if that’s true and she’s some sort of a fucking saint, I can't live here, with you and her… I can't! This is not gonna work! This could never work! It’s you and her living in this stupid, little house and that’s it, that’s the end of the story! That’s how it has to be."

The rejection hit Marion straight in the heart, like the red-hot tip of a bayonet. When he spoke again, Marion could feel his own words getting smaller and teary. "But why would it have to be like that, Sean? I don’t see where’s your problem. I thought you and Jinnah liked each other. I thought you wouldn’t mind living with me."

"Why? You're asking me why this would be a problem? For fucks sake, sometimes you're a really thick soon of a bitch, Collodi," Sean ran a hand through his hair with so much force it almost looked like he was going to rip off half of it. He huffed, shaking his head in disbelief. When he looked back at Marion, Sean’s eyes were shining with determined anger. "No, zip it,” he said as Marion started to open his mouth. “You want me to say it? Fine. Or actually, let me show you why your shitty plan of keeping me around is worth fuck-all."

Before Marion could react Sean closed the gap between them, standing chest in chest, so close that Marion had to lift his chin to watch Sean's face (he didn't flinch at the sudden move though, didn't feel even an ounce of anxiety as the other man towered over him. This was Sean. His Sean. The one person who was there his entire life.)

Sean's hands closed around Marion’s shirt and swung him against the shed’s wall, wooden boards rocking from the force of the impact. Not pausing even for a moment to give Marion time to figure out what was going on, Sean moved one hand onto Marion's neck and pulled him even closer until their lips crushed.

It was nothing like kissing Jean. This felt like desperation and fear and dread. It felt like a goodbye with no promise of coming back.

When they parted, Marion was lost for breath, wide eyes staring at Sean who was heaving too, angry tears streaming down his face. "You finally found something nice for yourself Mar,” Sean said, his voice broken, head shaking. “I can't be the guy who ruins all of it for you,” his hands started to let go of Marion’s shirt.

No. Marion wouldn’t let him.

Mimicking what was done to him the moment before, he grabbed the back of Sean’s head and pulled him down again, kissing him and pouring every bit of feeling into that kiss, trying to show Sean what could be. Passion and connection and supporting each other. Mischief and understanding and love.

Sean looked stupefied. By the force of Marion’s response, by getting one at all. He stood there, confused and inexperienced and it felt like, for once, it was Marion’s turn to show him how to be brave. That some risks meant high rewards and this was one of them.

Marion pressed their foreheads together and whispered against Sean’s lips, “And what if this is not a problem? What if we can make it work?”

After his conversation with Jean, the first day of living together was relatively easy. Sean had tried to sleep, his body aching with the pains of a sleepless night, subway exploration and fighting a creature in their chapter house, but he soon realized his effort was futile. He kept turning on the bed, restless, his senses picking up on the smallest of sounds and turning them into the signs of a monster approaching.

After two hours of that, Sean finally gave up and got up, quietly finding his way to the kitchen, careful not to make too much noise. Jean and Marion both needed all the sleep they could get.

It was just late morning, the streets quiet in that way the city gets once most of its residents are busy at work. Or maybe that’s just what it was like to live in a nice part of the town, with a strip of greenery interposing between the house and the city muck.

Sean shook his head, it's not like there was any sense in thinking about that. Before he'd know, he was going back to where he belonged for the past three years - an unused pantry in nobody's home. He poured himself a glass of water, drank it in a few rushed gulps and got to work.

If he was going to stay there for the next few days, Sean thought, he should at least make himself useful. He found a bucket and cleaner and started to scrub every surface he could find that wasn’t already spotless (not many of those). Then he cleaned the fireplace and went to the shed in the garden to bring more firewood. Then he remembered what Jean had mentioned the day before and started to work on the sink.

“I must admit I didn’t take you for an early riser, Mist- Sean,”Jean said as she entered the kitchen some time later, her clothes exceptionally loose and comfortable compared to what she usually wore outside. Her hair was braided but face mostly free of makeup, the sleepiness still tucked into the corners of her eyes.

“Pretty sure it's early afternoon already, Doc,” Sean replied, popping his head out for a second before ducking back underneath the sink, determined to finally be done with this damn thing.

“Potato potato,” Jinnah waved her hand and moved towards the oven. “I’ll make us coffee. Have you eaten already?”

It was hard not to be lulled into comfort with the way the two of them sat at the kitchen counter, more informal than ever and talking about insignificant things. Jinnah shared a story of how she almost burned the house when she was eight and tried to make tea for her father while Mathilda was out shopping. Sean told her how he used to hate coffee when he first enlisted, holding on to the cup for as long as it was warm to get rid of the cold in his hands, then pouring its contents out behind the tent where no one could see him.

Jinnah cut a fresh loaf of bread for them and spread real butter and a thick layer of plum jam on it (made from the fruits of a plum tree growing in the garden). Sean took small bites of food and nodded and listened to her with an earnest smile (like the sweetness of it didn’t make him nauseous, like he wasn’t incredibly hungry).

They talked and they ate and it felt almost too good to be true. For a moment, it even felt right. And then Marion joined them, sending the loveliest smile Jinnah’s way and Sean felt in his stomach the weight of this food and domesticity.

So Sean excused himself before he could sour the mood and went back to work until there was nothing more to do and his two temporary housemates pretty much forced him to spend some time with the two of them in the sitting room. They talked about having no news from Nathaniel. They talked about monsters and Marion was fiddling with his fingers during that conversation but that was fine - that was a conversation connected to a job and Sean could handle that.

He had much harder time handling a casual conversation that followed.

In the evening of that first day, Sean excused himself early from their arrangement in the sitting room but stayed up again, not used to the crispness of sheets and bed, listening for familiar footsteps crossing the corridor, turning his baseball in his hands as he waited to see whether Marion would sleep in the other guest room or move past the door, heading towards the master bedroom.

He heard Marion’s careful steps as he headed upstairs well past midnight. Jinnah was there too, her heels clicking against the bare wood of stairs. A hush of conversation, and then parting of ways. Lighter, clicking footsteps continuing their journey up. Heavier ones moving towards the guest room.

In the quiet of the night, Sean could hear Marion getting ready for the bed. Sound of a belt buckle hitting the floor. Splash of water being poured into a bowl. Creaking of bed as Marion layed down, just a wall away from Sean - alone.

The realization pleased Sean. And then it made him feel awful.

He dreaded the second day from the moment it had started. With barely anything to do after his fixing spree the day before, Sean didn’t have any good excuse to stay away from them. Especially after a young boy came to Jinnah’s house, delivering a note from Nathaniel.

“He says Kingsley is starting to feel better and they’ve managed to send a missive to someone else from the Candela,” Marion said, scratching his beard as he read. “They’re waiting for further instructions or reinforcements and will send another note later today.”

So the rest of the day was spent waiting. And that meant having to smile and joke and act normal while Marion took Jinnah's hand so casually into his or pressed a kiss to her cheek when standing up after dinner.

To be clear: Sean was happy for them. He was so incredibly happy to see Jean relax and allow herself to be silly; to hear Marion let out a hearty laughter. And he would be more than content with knowing the two of them were somewhere in the house, together and learning what that meant. But he couldn't just keep acting like it was nothing when Marion kept doing so many confusing things.

Marion was a hugger, a tactile guy, a kid who couldn't fall asleep without someone holding his hand - it wasn't out of character for him to wrap his arm around someone or keep a hand on somebody's elbow in a crowded space. But it felt completely different to have him almost constantly touching Sean when Jinnah was right there, standing a few feet away.

That confusion and bitterness built up and then morphed into anger because that was one of the few emotions Sean could wear comfortably. And when he finally exploded it happened in angry words and threats and a kiss.

Right then and there, Sean was sure he had fucked everything up. That, whatever silly excuse of closeness was still between the three of them would be destroyed beyond repair by his stupid action. Because this story was older than time. A prince and a princess or two princesses or two princes, falling in love and forming this perfect union and then having kids and squabbling over who was supposed to walk the dog out when it was raining or getting up early to prepare coffee for the other one or whatever. The important part was: it was never the two of them and then some other guy. Stories like this never ended with a happily ever after.

And in trying to go against the script, Sean believed he had ruined everything. Not only for himself but also, and that hurt even more, for them.

(It wouldn’t be the first time; Sean took master class in fucking things up since before he could shoot - a lifetime ago.)

But then Marion’s face lit up like a goddamn christmas tree and he had kissed Sean back, hand grabbing the back of Sean's head, foreheads pressed together, his smile wide and confusing and he said it would be okay, that this was good.

It was the evening of their third day of living together and it looked like this: three of them sitting around the table filled with pennies, buttons and trinkets, Sean and Jinnah sharing a sofa and whispering conspiratorially while Marion sat in the armchair opposite of them, looking completely defeated, rubbing a hand across his forehead.

“See? We've got him,” Sean said to Jean, not whispering but keeping up a pretense of secrecy by hiding his mouth behind his hand of cards. “He's cornered and at our mercy.”

Marion let out a long-suffering sigh and, without even lifting his eyes, said “Put that tongue back in your mouth, Sean.”

Jinnah giggled as Sean instinctively did as he was told, closing his mouth so quickly his teeth clanked. She leaned against Sean and tapped a finger against Sean's cards, her other hand holding a glass of wine, “So these are good, right?”

“ Very good, in fact,” Sean replied, a sly smile on his lips as he wrapped left arm around Jinnah's shoulders, giving her a playful shake. “Look at you, catching up so quickly. A few more rounds and you'll play like a champ, Doc.”

“Absolutely not. After this one, we’re done,” Marion interjected. “Why did I even agree that you should be the one teaching her?”

“I’d hate to lose such a great playing partner, but if we were to make it even funnier…” Jean said, completely ignoring Marion, a mischievous glint in her eyes making her look younger. Or maybe exactly her age, finally. Hell, Sean had a hard time concentrating on anything other than how pretty she was when she relaxed - not that he needed to, with how awful Marion was at poker. Maybe Sean was drunk. Or maybe it was some different kind of intoxication, something he didn't know much about. “Sean, didn't you mention you can bet… certain items instead of money?”

“Ah,” Sean's eyes widened in respect, a wolfish grin appearing on his face as he looked back at Marion. “I wouldn't say no to getting someone a little lighter on their clothes…”

“We're not playing strip poker,” Marion said, with the red of his cheeks making it incredibly obvious he was aware this kind of game would result in only one person being naked. “Especially not after this,” he threw his cards on the table. “Jean, I thought you said you’ve never played?”

“I didn't,” Jinnah said, reaching out for a bottle to refill Marion's glass. After she was done doing so, she swirled the liquid inside - the bottle was almost empty at that point. Sean took it out of her hand and finished it without troubling himself with finding his glass that was standing somewhere on the floor. “Sean’s a great teacher.”

“He taught me and I'm far from being this good.”

“What can we do? She's got a natural talent, Mar!” Sean shrugged. “Also, you never teach someone to be better at cards than you are; that'd take away half of the fun!”

And it continued like this - with just enough alcohol to keep them in a good mood and lovingly teasing remarks being thrown here and there. The night grew darker outside and everything was still new and unfamiliar while, at the same time, being strangely natural.

There were still little hiccups, like when Sean instinctively inched away from Jinnah the first time she leaned closer to him to see his cards; or when he put his hand on Marion’s hip to move him away and his eyes darted towards Jinnah, as if he did something wrong.

But he didn’t, and that was the point of the long conversation the previous day. He was allowed to touch both of them and smile at both of them and tell suggestive jokes and even accept gestures of affection given back to him. He was allowed to enjoy the press of Marion’s hand against the small of his back and Jinnah wrapping her arms around his neck when she had won against both of them (Sean didn’t even have to hold back that much. It made him proud). Both Marion and Jinnah had agreed to that. They wanted that. With Sean.

The realization made Sean lightheaded. He needed a drink to cope with that. So he drank. A bottle of beer. Two. Three. What was left in Jinnah’s glass when she was starting to be a little too giggly. 

“Hey,” Marion’s whisper and touch on the arm brought Sean back to reality. He blinked a few times. At some point they’ve moved from the table and cards in front of the fireplace, all three spread on the carpet there, their backs leaning against the sofa. On Sean’s left, Marion was crouching down, the orange glow of the fire dancing across his soft eyes. On his right, Jinnah was asleep, head lying on Sean’s shoulder, lips parted slightly. “You awake?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sean said, rubbing his eyes. How long has he been sitting like that? Did he actually fall asleep? His neck was all cramped.

“I think we should call it a night. I’ll clean up, do you think you can take Jean upstairs?”

Sean frowned, “Wouldn't you prefer to do that? I can clean up…” he started but Marion shook his head fondly.

“Nah, it’s fine. Besides, you should probably go to bed too. You look like you didn’t sleep in the last few days.”

He wasn’t entirely wrong. But admitting that or figuring out why this particular request made something squeeze the inside of Sean’s chest would be difficult, so instead Sean fell back into what he knew the best, “And are you going to join, sweetheart?” he grinned, quirking one eyebrow up in a way that made it clear he was joking.

Marion chuckled. “Some other night the answer will definitely be yes, but tonight you really should get some sleep, Sean,” and before Sean could process any of that, Marion pressed a quick kiss to his temple and was already standing up, walking out of the room and towards the kitchen with way too little sway in his step to be actually drunk.

Well, fuck.

First of all: Sean was too caught up in his thoughts to make sure others were at least as drunk as him.

Second of all: He forgot that tipsy Mar was a flirty Mar and that was a dangerous thing to deal with in his current state.

Third of all: thanks to his stupid genes, Sean’s blush right then was very probably visible all the way from the moon. Good thing the only person present and therefore able to give him shit about it was currently asleep.

Walking up the stairs took longer than usually with Jinnah’s sleeping body in his arms. Sean carefully maneuvered her through the doorframes, careful to not hit Jean’s head against it. He lowered her gently onto the bed, taking off her shoes but leaving her dress on. Surprisingly, she didn’t wake up even once as he fumbled with the clasps of her shoes, only mumbling something under her nose when Sean pushed her to the side to pull the blanket from under her and cover her with it. Sean couldn’t help but smile at the way she nuzzled into the soft pillow. Couldn’t stop his hand from reaching to brush hair away from her forehead.

He wouldn’t mind seeing this side of her more often, Sean realized.

Carefully closing the door behind himself, Sean left Jinnah’s room and went back to the guest room he was currently occupying. When he walked in, the chill of the night spilling through the cracked window made goosebumps raise on his arms.

Sean didn’t leave that window open. He very clearly remembered he didn’t, not with how cold the day was.

He stepped inside and closed the door, every move unhurried and seemingly relaxed as he turned to face the inside of the door, turning the lock. The drunken haziness almost immediately disappeared as Sean’s heart started to race with adrenaline. 

He turned to see what was in the room with him.

What he saw gave Sean a pause. A pair of gray eyes, light skin and auburn hair to go with that. In a strange shadows of the night, for the briefest of moments, Sean’s heart seized as he thought a ghost of one of his brothers had came to ask him what the fuck he thought he was doing.

But this wasn’t Tony or Jimmy. No, the creature standing next to the bed he was supposed to be sleeping in for the last few nights was wearing Sean’s face.

Marion’s warnings flashed through Sean’s head, as clear as if they were being shouted at him. Shapeshifters. Creatures who mimicked other people. Intelligent. Deadly.

Other information flared up as well: Marion, unaware of the danger, cleaning up downstairs. Jinnah, sleeping and defenseless, just a short walk away.

“Hi there, handsome,” Sean said, hopefully not loud enough to be heard outside of the room, standing guard in front of the door, waiting in anticipation for the Other Sean’s move.

The other Sean didn’t look startled. He kept staring at Sean, face blank.

“So… What’s the plan, buddy?” there were things around the room Sean could use, but none of them would be useful in killing the Other Sean if he was anything like the creature they’ve encountered before. Maybe he was even the same one. That would mean it had a personal beef with Sean for shooting it a few days before. “Took you some time to find me.”

“We were looking for you.”

“Me specifically? I’m flattered,” Sean took a single step to his right. Seeing that the Other Sean mimicked him, Sean started to slowly move along the right side of the room, sticking close to the wall. The Other Sean kept moving as well, keeping the distance between them, moving away from the window and closer to the door, like they were two tigers circling around each other in a cage. “And what do you want here?” Sean asked.

“We ask for help.”

Sean frowned. “Help?”

“Your help.”

“My help? And why would I do that?”

“I can help you. We are the same.”

“Yeah, sure buddy, whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“We know you suffer. We can sense it. We can help. We want to help.”

“Still not answering my question, assface.”

“We are the same,” the Other Sean repeated, eyes almost pleading, in a way Sean wasn’t sure he was capable of anymore. “We want our mother, you want your mother. We will help, if you do too.”

At that, Sean froze in place, just a few steps away from the desk standing against the wall. His hands clenched in fists as he gritted out, “What. Are you. Talking about.”

The Other Sean took a step closer to Sean, reaching a hand out in a calming gesture.

“Your mother was taken away from you. Ours was forbidden from following after us. We can help you get yours back if you help us reunite with ours. We just need a vessel, that’s all we ask.”

“I don’t know what’s a fucking vessel.”

“You know it. We saw you with it. An empty vessel. The soul container. It will help our mother come into this world.”

Sean didn’t even dare to blink. His heart was beating like crazy inside his chest. There was only one person the Other Sean could be referring to. “You want me to betray my friends? To sell Marion out?”

“Are they your friends if they didn’t help you?” the Other Sean tilted his head, the expression on his face that of a confused child. “You’ve suffered for so long, and they’ve never done anything to help you before.”

Something ugly and painful twisted in Sean’s chest. He remembered coming back from war to find his childhood home gone. Learning about his mother being taken away from him, wasting away in that forsaken asylum. Confusion and fear and anger. Disappointment. Hate. The feeling, the whisper in his mind telling him that he deserved every little bad thing that had happened to him. The weak, sickly hope that maybe he didn’t, diminishing with each day, with each drop of blood he had spilled.

Nobody helped Sean. Not for the last three years. Why would they? He was a monster, he knew that much. Another monster was probably the only thing low enough to even consider reaching out a hand to him.

Another memory, fresher, of Marion slamming open the chapter house’ doors. Spotting Sean there and rushing to him, grabbing Sean’s face. Words that made no sense. Decisions and gestures that confused him even more. Warmth. Laughter. The guilt of enjoying it.

“Yeah,” Sean said, leaning back against the backrest of the chair standing next to the desk, head hanging low, as if he was coming to terms with some grave realization. “Yeah I know why they didn't help.”

Sean slid his hand into a pocket of the jacket hanging from the chair’s backrest, feeling for a familiar, heavy shape.

“Because I was a fuckin' buffoon, that's why.”

With that, Sean lifted the gun, pointing straight at the monster’s face and pulled the trigger.

Chapter Text

Marion was furious, Sean just wasn’t completely sure why. There were, of course, quite a few possible reasons to choose from:

Possible reason number one for Marion to be mad: Sean didn’t immediately yell for help when he saw the creature in his room. It was a common thing for Marion to get upset with Sean after the latter had put himself in danger, even if, in the end, all ended well. Just like this time. Not many things can survive being shot in the head and those monsters are no exception - a lifeless corpse was slowly bleeding out on the floor of a guest bedroom in Jinnah’s house, covered only by a spare sheet so that they didn’t have to look at it; brown and red carpet soaking up the black ichor. They’ll have to burn it and air the room for days to get rid of the smell.

Possible reason number two for Marion to be mad: Marion could be mad at the creature itself for ruining a nice evening. Sean would be able to relate to this one - there wasn’t a world in which he’d be happy to draw a line connecting “playing poker slightly drunk” directly to “eldritch horror’s home visit”. It sucked. Moreover, if Sean could be so bold as to talk about someone (something?) else’s manners, it was pretty fucking rude.

Possible reason number three for Marion to be mad: this anger was born purely from Marion’s worry for them. The panicked way he had called Sean’s name, rushing from downstairs when the gun fired. Paleness of his face when Marion saw what had been shot. Trembling in his hand when Jinnah stumbled into a room, equally panicked, and he reached to keep her from entering.

No matter the reason though, the fact remains that it’s been a long time since Sean had seen Marion so agitated and, frankly, it made Sean jittery. Judging by the expression Jinnah was making, sitting on the chair with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, she felt the uncomfortable atmosphere, too.

“Knock it off, Mar,” Sean finally said, crossing the room to grab a hold on Marion’s arm and keep him in place. “You’re going to tear a hole in a carpet if you keep pacing like that.”

“Let go,” Marion tried to pull himself away but Sean’s hand only tightened around his biceps.

“Relax,” Sean repeated with more force. “We’ve sent a message to the rest, now we just have to wait for them to come here. We clean up, send Villain McVillan over there to wherever Candela keeps their curios and the job’s done. We did it. We saved the day and can ride off into the sunset,” he tried but his words seemed to fall deaf on Marion who kept shaking his head, a grim expression on his face.

“Sean’s right,” Jinnah added. “While it wasn’t the most… elegant ending to this mission, everything went quite well, all things considered.”

At that, Marion finally stopped, but the look on his face was that of someone who’s just been slapped. “Everything went quite well? No, Jinnah, it didn’t. I should have known… I should have been prepared!”

Sean couldn’t help a disbelieving snicker from coming out of his mouth. “Hey, if I’m not allowed to put all that crap on myself, neither are you, got it? You did nothing wrong,” Sean said but Marion pulled away, raising one of his hands to rub at his chest.

“But you don’t understand!”

Sean raised an eyebrow, skeptical look on his face. “Oh really? Then why don’t you explain to me how in hell should a fuckin’ monster getting inside the house be your fault, Mar? What, you sent it a fruit basket with a card Come visit whenever ? No? Yeah, I don’t think you did.”

“No, you don’t understand. I saw it before. I knew it would come to you but I still… I hoped…” Marion sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, as if his legs gave out from under him. “I hoped that enough things have changed… That it wouldn’t get to you.”

“Marion?” Jinnah moved to sit next to him, pulling one edge of the blanket so that it covered Marion’s shoulders too. She glanced up at Sean who was standing frozen in place a few steps away from them. “Did you have another premonition? Is that what this is about?”

Marion let out a bitter laugh that could hardly be called so, “That’s one way of putting it, I guess.” 

Sean felt an ugly suspicion bloom inside his chest. He swallowed, trying to keep his composure as he asked, “Marion… What exactly did you see?”

Marion was quiet for a long moment. “It… This was the same vision as before. The one I got a few days ago and told Kingsley about,” even if Marion had mentioned that this premonition was longer than usual, it felt surreal to think it could have spanned days. “The monster, it has killed you Sean. It killed you and then it took your place and lured us towards the Flare and…” Marion’s voice faltered at that, but the rest was easy to guess.

Sean felt the strength drain from him.

Marion’s visions were always cruel - omens of death and discord, painful in how real and  final they felt. They rarely talked about them and most of the time Sean had to be content with few words explanations, if anything at all. And yet, this was, perhaps, the worst one Sean had heard Marion speak about. Or rather, the reality in which that vision had happened was so cruel that the cover-lie of Sean getting killed by the creature and it taking his place was merciful in comparison.

So he had done it. In some version of the future, Sean had come with that monster, agreed to help it. Betray people he lov…

No.

Sean shook his head, digging his nails into his palms.

Marion’s visions weren’t real. Not really. That was the point of them - showing the shittiest, worst version of what could happen and giving them a heads-up to change things. And that’s precisely what they’ve done.

“Marion, you can’t possibly blame yourself-” Jinnah reached out to take Marion’s hand. He let her, even though he didn’t seem inclined to listen to her.

“Jean, you don’t know what I’ve seen. I should have…”

Sean clicked his tongue impatiently, his body coming back online as he crossed the rest of the way and sat on the bed on the other side of Marion. “‘Should have’ my ass, Mar. You can’t do everything, you know? Please learn the same fuckin’ lesson you’ve been trying to beat into my head for so many years now. Sorry for the language, Doc.”

“No, it’s alright,” Jinnah shook her head, then squinted eyes at him. “Although I admit, if you knew what we were trying to tell you, then the fact you refused to listen…”

“Yeah yeah, I know. But hey, look, I was never a bright student, Mar should figure it out quicker than I did. Anyway, what I’m trying to say is… Mar, none of this is your fault,” Sean paused. That first part was easy. The second one was gonna be much harder. He had to say it, though. Hiding a clue could cost them too much. “And I don’t know what had happened in your vision but I don’t think this thing would kill me.”

Marion looked at him in confusion, “What do you mean?”

Sean took a deep breath before continuing. “It asked for my help in something. In freeing its mother, it called it. Ah, looks like you’ve known something about that already.”

“I… yes,” Marion said slowly, his frown deepening. “I believe that’s what was driving it the other time… I mean, since the beginning,” Sean watched closely as Marion stumbled through the words, as if he was confused how the knowledge from his vision fit into reality.

“So it offered you your life in exchange for aiding it?” Jinnah asked.

It would have been easy to say yes. It would make things less complicated.

“No. It offered a favor for a favor.”

He felt more than saw them exchange a look, a part of him wondering since when the two of them moved in such synchrony. If, from the outsider’s perspective, he had a connection like that with them, too.

Jinnah reached her hand across Marion’s lap and placed it gently on Sean’s knee. “Sean, we want to help you, but you’ll have to tell us everything.”

“I…” Sean started, then bit the inside of his cheek, trying to think what words to use. He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, steepled fingers worrying into the frown between his brows. 

They didn’t rush him, and he was grateful for that. Sean had spent countless nights trying to find a way to present this, to make it sound right, in case he ever had a chance to find someone able to help him. He used to write bits of the speech in pencil on the scraps of old newspapers, rehearsing them in his head while watching LT grumble about some big shot who had contacted him trying to use Nathaniel to get in good graces of the Trapp family. Now Sean only had to…

Sean blinked his eyes open.

Actually, why the fuck was he worried about that? This was Marion and Jinnah. He didn’t have to find nice-sounding words when talking to them. He could just… Say it. All of it. They were smart enough that Sean trusted they would know what he meant even if his explanation wasn’t perfect.

“It’s about my Ma.”

Doctor Orlov’s office was a perfect picture of a place built on money coming from the pockets of the rich who paid him for things no real doctor would ever agree to do. It looked more like a banker’s office than a medical practice with its expensive furniture and display of top-shelf alcohol standing on a silver tray next to the massive desk. The thick carpet and plush armchairs were so impractical when dealing with the sick that Jinnah felt the beginning of a headache forming in her temples the moment she stepped foot into this room.

She was there on a mission, however, so she smiled and let Orlov kiss the back of her hand and flip through the medical records of a fake person she used as an excuse to meet the man.

“... that’d be my professional opinion, Miss Basar,” Orlov was saying, the condescending tone of his voice angering Jinnah even more. “And I must say, I’m so glad you’ve decided to come and ask me for advice! It’s always a pleasure to help such a young and beautiful lady,” he added, as if someone would actually be daft enough to ask this fool for advice. Jinnah laughed with him, more so to hide the grimace of disgust than anything else.

Orlov was a vain man and, no matter how much it irked her, it also meant it was easy to steer a conversation with him. A few compliments here, a bashful fluttering of eyelashes and casting her gaze downward and he let most of his defenses down, writing her down as nothing more than a silly girl.

She ‘slipped’ and mentioned a client of hers asking for a favor she wasn’t sure about giving. He frowned, nodded, poured expensive bourbon into his glass. It was so obvious this was the role he had longed to play for years – to be a savior, a god and a father to someone younger and less knowledgeable than him.

“These types of deals are quite common, my child, and there’s nothing wrong with making some money on the side, so to speak. Doctors are just people, after all, we have to eat and pay our bills. I can show you how it’s done and we can split the profits, don’t worry,” he reached across the desk to pat the back of Jinnah’s gloved hand.

“So you had a client like that too, doctor?” she asked, to keep him talking, to stop herself from taking the heavy, brass paperweight that stood on the desk and crushing every bone in Orlov’s hand while naming it.

“Of course, Miss Basar! Just the other week, Mister Hiton, you know, the one who works in the mayor's office...”

Jinnah listened for as long as she could, as long as she thought was necessary before stopping Orlov’s monologue with a raise of her hand. He looked at her, confused, as she said. “Thank you for your help, Mister Orlov. I think that’ll be all.”

“Pardon me?”

“Lieutenant?” Jinnah turned and called towards the door. It opened, showing the older man with a notepad and fingers darkened from ink. “Did you get all of that?”

Nathaniel walked further into Orlov’s office, scribbling a few more words with a flash of his wrist before closing the notepad and tucking it into the inside pocket of his coat. “Certainly. I think we’ve got everything, Doctor Basar.”

“What-” Orlov sputtered out a nervous chuckle, eyes darting between the two of them. “What is the meaning of this!?”

“Why? And what does it look like to you, Doctor?” Nathaniel asked, standing behind the armchair Jinnah was sitting on, hands folded behind his back. “Oh, pardon me, how terribly rude of me to not introduce myself. Nathaniel Trapp. You probably know of my family, but I didn’t really follow into my father’s footsteps. You see, I’ve always been more interested in journalism,” he said slowly, giving Orlov time to connect the dots.

Jinnah watched carefully as the old doctor started to realize what was happening. The way all confidence and cockiness dropped from his face was almost enough to reimburse her for having to sit in close vicinity of him for the last twenty-something minutes.

“I… Friends, I’m sure we can come to some sort of agreement,” Orlov started to sweat profusely. “There are many ways I could help you, I assure you. What do you need? Funds? Introductions? Names? I know a lot of people, a lot of things.”

“Ah, right, this information getting out wouldn’t be good for the good doctor’s career, would it, Doctor Basar?” Nathaniel asked, stretching his beard.

“Well, revealing malpractice could be disastrous and the officials wouldn’t be able to hush things out if the information leaked to the public.”

“Right, right,” Nathaniel nodded before taking a seat at the armrest of Jinnah’s chair. “That would be… most unfortunate,” he paused. “How good it is then that we’re amongst friends though, isn’t it?”

Orlov looked between the two of them. Nodding slowly. “Right, that’s right. So… what can I do for you?”

Jinnah smiled at him, a little feral in the way she bared her teeth. “Oh, it’s nothing big, really,” she pushed the pad standing on Orlov’s desk closer to him. “We just need you to write a short note about how you’re reevaluating one of your past diagnoses, doctor, and we’ll be happy to forget about everything else that was said here.”

Ten minutes later, Jinnah and Nathaniel were walking out of the office, the priceless note folded and kept in Jinnah’s purse.

“That was brilliant work there, doctor,” Nathaniel said to her, clearly impressed.

"How much time will you need to write this article?"

“With everything you’ve got me? Few hours, but I can postpone showing it to my supervisor for however long you need, Doctor."

Jinnah tugged on her glove. "That won't be necessary, Mister Trapp. I'll make sure everything is taken care of before sunset tomorrow, so this Thursday's newspaper should be a perfect place for this little discovery of yours. Once she’s out and Orlov’s reputation is compromised, no lies of his will be able to do anything. And please make sure you don’t forget any details, Mister Trapp. I want this man’s career obliterated for all the things he’s done."

"I wouldn’t dare to," Nathaniel paused as they exited the building, raising his hat towards her. “Doctor Basar, please remind me to never get on your bad side."

Jinnah smiled at him sweetly, not saying anything. She watched Nathaniel turn on his heel and walk away before crossing the street to the carriage where her boys were waiting for her.

When the door opened, Sean jumped up from his seat, eyes wide and anxious as he looked at Jinnah. Next to him, Marion wore a similar expression even if he remained on his seat.

“How did it go?”

“Even better than expected,” Jean said, grabbing onto the side of the carriage door to climb inside. Two pairs of hands immediately reached out to help her. “We’ll make a quick stop to deliver this to Greyslate,” she raised the piece of paper with Orlov’s signature.

Sean stared at the note like it was the greatest treasure known to mankind. For him, it probably was.

“You did it,” his words were thick with disbelief but Jean knew it was because how unattainable getting his mother back seemed to be more than anything else.

“Yes,” she smiled, watching Sean slump back into his seat. Marion reached to wrap arm around his shoulders and pressed Sean against his side and Sean didn’t protest. She leaned forward too and grabbed one of Sean’s hands, holding it between hers. “Unfortunately, I can’t speed up certain things,” Jinnah continued slowly, making sure Sean could still hear her and understood, waiting patiently for him to nod. “They still have to process it within the institution, even if it has the doctor’s signature on it, so we won’t be able to just pick up your mother and walk out though the front doors today. But I promise you, tomorrow you’ll eat dinner with your mother back in our home.”

Sean kept nodding for a few more seconds before the meaning of Jean’s words hit him. His eyes grew even wider, mouth falling open. Jinnah moved her eyes up from Sean, catching Marion’s gaze and giving him a nod.

“Jean and I talked about it yesterday, Sean,” Marion started. “The decision of course is yours and your mother’s and if you want to get your old home back we will do everything in our power to help you with that, but we’d love for you to live with us. Not just for a time being but… indefinitely. You know I love your Ma like she’s my own.”

“And no matter how great the two of you are, I would love to have another woman to talk to,” Jinnah added softly.

Sean looked close to tears, his voice trembled. “I… I don’t even know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Jinnah squeezed Sean’s hand. “But I’d really appreciate your help in preparing a room for your mother. I was thinking about the one on the second floor, with big windows and a view on a garden.”