Chapter Text
The visit from the Chief of Police had brought everything into sharp focus for Buck; the rumours and gossiping of the 118 had gone far enough, it was starting to jeopardise the safety of Camp Half-Blood, his Home. And if there was one thing Buck couldn’t abide by, it was threats to his Home.
He was going to tell the team, all of the 118.
Buck didn’t know if any of them would believe him; they would take convincing.
Of all of them, Chimney might take the least convincing; he already believed in magic, curses and the supernatural, in theory, at least. If Buck showed him evidence of Greek myths, legends and magic – assuming the Mist didn’t work overtime – Chimney might believe him.
The only problem with telling Chimney first, and getting him on side, was that Chimney couldn’t keep a secret. If Buck wanted to tell people on his own terms, in the right way – as he hadn’t been able to for the last four years – then he’d need to have a plan to tell the rest of them already in place.
He’d also need to tell Maddie.
He didn’t want Chimney to have to censor himself with her. He also didn’t want Maddie to hear about his pseudo-godly heritage from anyone but him.
So, it was Maddie and Chimney first.
Then he’d tell Eddie.
Buck’s heart twisted.
If there was someone he was most nervous about telling, it was Eddie. Buck wasn’t oblivious, he knew what his feelings for Eddie were; he’d loved Eddie for longer than even he knew. He wanted above anything to be accepted by him.
And yet.
Eddie believed all stories of curses, the bogeyman, myths and legends to be nonsense. Buck didn’t know if he was just exceedingly susceptible to the Mist or if he was truly just that stubborn in his beliefs. But if Eddie rejected him after Buck told him everything, Buck knew he wouldn’t be able to handle it. It would break him.
But that was a problem for a later Buck; for now, it was time to talk to Maddie and Chimney.
Eddie and everyone else would come later.
****
Albert and Buck had workshopped a plan, an extensive plan. They even had a mind map they’d made and pinned to the wall behind the couch and everything. They’d planned things down to the hour, even. And yet, all their planning went down the drain not days after the visit from the Chief.
Buck had driven over to Maddie and Chim’s apartment, Albert riding in the passenger seat. They’d organised a dinner, the four of them, where – after eating – Buck would just come out and give them the full story.
It had started well.
Buck had prayed to the Gods – specifically to Tyche, the Greek God of luck – before they ate, hoping that would stand him in good stead. The lasagne Buck had made was going down a treat, with the baked brie in the oven, too. Buck, Albert and Chimney were sipping at their respective wine glasses – Maddie still being pregnant meant she was stuck with her non-alcoholic grape juice – and chatting about the bomb threat they’d encountered on-site that day.
“I’m just glad you’re all okay –” Albert started, “You all have such cool and interesting jobs… I just hope I’ll get to see some action when I finally finish the firefighting training. At the moment, it’s kicking my butt.”
Buck opened his mouth to offer an assurance that he was sure Albert would pass, that Buck himself would pray for him to, when there came heavy knocking at the door.
Everyone at the table turned to look at it, glancing and pointing at each other as though to ask ‘Were you expecting anyone else?’ but only getting a shrug in response. Their entire friendship circle consisted of them and the 118 and, as far as they knew, the rest of the 118 were all at home with their respective families.
Another knock came.
“Maddie, open up! We know you’re in there, please let us in!”
Buck went cold.
He recognised the voice on the other side of the door. It was one he hadn’t heard in over twenty years and yet it haunted his nightmares as often as monsters did.
It was his mother – the mortal one.
Margaret Buckley.
And where his biological mother went, his biological father typically followed.
He looked towards Maddie, her face now pale and ashen; she hadn’t expected their parents here either. As far as Buck was aware, the last time they spoke Maddie had just found out about him being abandoned at Camp Half-Blood, and she’d effectively cut them off not long after. Why were they here now?
Chimney sent Maddie a concerned look. “Do you know who–?”
Chimney got up, starting towards the door to open it, only for Buck to stop him. “I’ve got it, Chim.”
Without waiting for a response, Buck reached for the door, snapping Maddie out of her stupor. “Wait, Buck, you don’t have to –!”
He opened the door, revealing the faces of his biological parents.
Margaret’s face fell at the site of him; similar to her daughter, her face paled in the same way Maddie’s had, however, her expression subsequently moulded into a mixture of horror and fear.
Margaret and Phillip Buckley felt both strangely familiar and not.
Buck knew who they were, of course, could recognise them; but their faces were older, wrinkled with age and stress. They had grey in their hair and Phillip was wearing glasses where he’d never needed to before. But they were, undoubtedly, his biological parents, the ones who’d left him on a gravel road beside the Camp Half-Blood borders over twenty years ago.
“Hello, Margaret. Phillip.”
It had been a long time since he’d considered either of the Buckley’s family; they didn’t deserve to be call ‘Mom’ or ‘Dad’, they’d done nothing that parents should.
Phillip’s mouth dropped open but no sound came out.
Buck could hear the harsh intake of breath behind him – most likely Maddie – a reminder that he was not alone.
“Evan.” The woman, who was once his mother, gasped out.
“What are you doing here?” Phillip asked.
There was a wobble to his voice, an unsteadiness that belied his own shock at seeing his son for the first time in over two decades. His eyes roved over Buck, taking in his new-found height and muscles, and lingering almost regretfully on the visible scars he had.
“What is he doing here?!” Buck winced at Maddie’s shriek, which caught him directly in his ear.
She descended on the door in a move of wrathful fury, no doubt exacerbated by her pregnancy hormones. “What are you doing here?! I thought I told you I didn’t want to speak to you!”
Buck caught Maddie carefully, pulling her back from the door and physically placing himself between her and their parents. It wouldn’t do well for her to indulge the rage to the point of actual violence.
“I don’t know what Evan told you, but we just wanted to see you, Maddie, please!”
Margaret’s voice was weepy, Buck found he had little sympathy for it. She and his dad had abandoned him at Camp Half-Blood with no explanation as to what he was, his origins or why they would leave him there. And while he’d found a Home, a family, at Camp, he never forgot why he was there in the first place.
“It’s been so long! We had to find out from the internet that you were pregnant, Maddie! Surely don’t hate us enough to prevent your child from meeting their grandparents –!”
It had been twenty years since they’d seen him, but that didn’t seem to matter to the Buckley parents, their attention fixed solely on Maddie.
Buck had never meant to drive a wedge between his sister and their parents; it was part of the reason he hadn’t told her they’d dumped him in the first place. That, and the fact that he wanted to protect her from the monsters that were after him. But he knew before Maddie found out, she’d had a relationship with them. Not necessarily a good one, but not bad.
Buck didn’t want to be the reason his niece or nephew had to grow up without grandparents.
He wanted them to have what he had never been able to.
A support network of family.
He took a deep breath, ignoring Maddie’s venomous, ‘I wouldn’t have to keep them from you if you hadn’t –!’, and asked, politely. “Why don’t you come in?”
The sounds of Margaret’s hysteria and Maddie’s vengeful rhetoric fell away, all of them turning to face him.
“We have enough food, if you want.” He offered, lamely.
“You don’t have to –“, Maddie hissed to him.
“It’s fine.” Buck interrupted; he knew if offered again, he would accept Maddie’s way out and that would be it. His niece or nephew would be grandparent-less. No, Buck thought. He would try. For family.
****
An awkward silence filled the room, with only the clattering of cutlery and plates breaking it. Buck had helpfully offered to lay the table for the extra plates, while Maddie sat stewing in her seat, watching her parents with hateful eyes.
Chimney didn’t know what to do.
He and Albert gave each other a commiserating look; they hadn’t exactly known what they’d signed up for when they’d agreed for a ‘family’ dinner that evening.
This was decidedly more than they bargained for.
Chimney hadn’t considered what it would be like to meet Maddie’s parents. Ever since he’d learned that they’d effectively sold Buck to some cult, he’d made the fair assumption that they’d never meet.
Now, staring across from them at the dinner table, he thought they looked normal.
Too normal for people who’d give their son up to a cult. Phillip Buckley was wearing plaid underneath his sweater, for Christ’s sake.
He coughed, clearing his throat. “Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Buckley. I’m Howard Han. Your daughter’s boyfriend. This –” He pointed to Albert across the table, “ –is my brother, Albert. And Buck’s roommate.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you both.” Margaret demurred, steadfastly not acknowledging or even looking at her son. “Who’s Buck?”
Chimney winced.
Twenty years is a long time, he reminded himself.
“Your son.” Was his curt response, gesturing to Buck.
“You’re letting people call you by some nickname?” Margaret asked Buck, finally turning to look him in the eye.
It was the first proper words she or Phillip had addressed directly to him since they’d entered – in two decades – and Buck felt the derision with every word.
“I couldn’t go letting people call me by my name now, could I?” Buck bit out. He raised a challenging, pointed eyebrow at his mother. “Names have power after all. You’d know that better than most.”
Margaret paled.
“Evan, you can’t –“
“No. I am called Buck.” Buck interjected. He’d not been comfortable going by Evan since camp; only monsters called him ‘Evan’, looking into his parents’ eyes he couldn’t say the pattern had changed. “I have been since you left me at Camp.”
“Son –“ Phillip started.
But Buck had been waiting twenty long years to confront them both; long enough that he had twenty years of resentments and anger built up.
“You can’t call me that!” He slammed his hands down on the table, the rattling of cutlery emphasising his point. Maddie flinched instinctively from across the table at the noise – which had Buck feeling automatically guilty over – but she made no move to stop him from yelling. “Only Hestia can call me that.”
“I’m sorry, Evan!” Margaret answered, watery tears filling her eyes. “What did you expect us to do?! You were coming home with injuries all the time, damaging the house, bringing danger with you. It was only a matter of time before you brought the danger back to us, back to Maddie!”
“What did I expect you to do?! I expected you to be there for me! I was only in that position because of you! I only was in danger because of you!” Buck stood, watching Margaret cringe back and Phillip move to rest a hand protectively on Margaret’s arm. “You were the ones who promised me to them. You are the reason I went through every pain and torment. I have walked through fire every single day of my life because of you.”
All the battles, all the scars, all the nightmares, it could all be traced back to Margaret’s decision to try and sacrifice the life of her unborn child, for the life of her firstborn son. He would never have been at Camp Half-Blood had she not offered him to the Gods in the hope they would bless Daniel and heal his leukaemia.
Buck had no regrets for how he’d lived his life; he’d saved people, fought for good, and yet, he wouldn’t have had to if it wasn’t for them.
He took a deep breath and exhaled, calming himself.
With a forced sense of calm, he asked. “Do you know how many scars I have from Camp? I have knife wounds, burns, countless scars. They had us fight battles for them from when I was twelve! It was kill or be killed! Do you want to hear about the first person I ever killed? Or the first time I caught a sword through the chest? Or the first time we had to bury another camper? We were child soldiers!”
He could feel the weight of Maddie and Chimney’s stares on the back of his head, but he ignored it, focussing on the couple in front of him.
“What were you hoping would happen?” He barked out a laugh; it sounded twisted even to his own ears. A facsimile of his usual laughter, warped. “If Daniel had been blessed instead of me. If he’d been cured, he would have been the one bringing the monsters home with him. Would it have been any different then? Would you have dealt with it for him? What would you have done?”
Margaret looked down at the table, unable to meet his eyes.
Buck understood what the lack of answer meant. They would have dealt with it. Had it been Daniel, they would have dealt with it all.
He scoffed.
“We tried!” Margaret rebuffed. “I –I don’t know what more you expected us to do!”
“I expected you to love me anyway.” Buck’s voice broke, on his words, the weight of them choking him.
The unspoken implication of her obfuscation weighing on him. The silent confirmation that if Daniel had been in his place, they would have loved him and cared for him despite everything. No matter what. It was him that hadn’t been worth the pain, heartbreak and anguish.
It stuck in his throat, making a nauseous feeling well up. Had it been him all along? Had he been the real problem?
A scraping sound cut through the room.
Chimney’s chair being pushed back from the table with force.
Chimney gave the Buckley’s a contemptuous look. “I think you should go.” He pulled the plates away from the couple and moved forwards to chivvy them back to the door.
“You can’t just–!”
“It’s my home, so I think you’ll find I can.” Chimney gave a threatening look. “Get out of our house.”
He took extra care to slam the door behind them.
****
What the hell just happened?
One minute the Buckleys had been talking about nicknames and the next Buck had been yelling at his parents. Yelling things that Chimney didn’t understand and couldn’t unhear.
What did Buck mean when he said he’d been a child soldier? Buck – the happy, puppy-like man, had been a child soldier at twelve? That he’d killed someone so he wouldn’t be killed? What the fuck had gone on at his camp?!
The silence pervading the room was interrupted by the sounds of Maddie crying into her hands.
“I’m sorry.” Buck said, face ducked down to the floor in what looked like shame.
He shouldn’t be the one ashamed. Chimney thought.
Buck down the rest of his wine from the table and continued. “This wasn’t how I meant for you to find out. I was going to tell you – I was! I had a whole presentation that Albert and I made.”
Chimney glanced back to Albert.
His brother looked similarly shaken but as he nodded with Buck, Chimney came to the realisation that whatever the Buckley’s were talking about – child soldiers and battles – Albert already knew about it. Maybe when Albert had first appeared in his life – evidence of his father’s preference to him – Chimney might have felt jealous of him, for knowing before the rest of them, but now? He was just happy Buck had spoken to someone.
Because: A child soldier? That’s a lot.
Maddie sniffled, her tears dying down to a more manageable level once more. “You don’t have to tell us anything you don’t want to.”
While Maddie was right to say it, Chimney could only hope Buck would not listen to that, because he had a boat-load of questions he wanted answered and preferably now.
Buck huffed a laugh. “Come on, Maddie, I know you must be bursting with questions.” Maddie choked out her own laugh, knowing Buck was right.
“I was going to tell you tonight anyway, so I guess they saved me from chickening out.” Buck let out a shaky breath.
He pulled his chair out from the dining table and positioned it in front of both Maddie and Chim, more akin to an interview set up than dinner. “When Mom was pregnant – after she found out about Daniel’s leukaemia – she went to Greece. At the altar of the Goddess, Hestia, she prayed for a miracle. For a Blessing –“
Buck caught a growing look of realisation cross Chimney’s face, likely making the connection between the Goddess Hestia and the woman Buck had claimed as a mother, Hestia. Maddie, however, remained confused.
“ – Hestia decided to bless Mom… through me.”
Buck pulled out the Light from his pocket, sparking it and letting the glow of his pocket Hearth blaze from the Lighter. With a careful move, Buck pulled the flame from the Lighter, allowing it to travel up and around his arm –
Maddie gasped.
Chimney made a choking noise. “What the fuck –?’”
Buck allowed the flame to burrow its way into his chest, knowing from experience – from both the campers and Albert’s commentary – that the light would sit in his chest for a minute or so, glowing in a semi-irregular pattern, in line with his own heart-beat.
Buck didn’t look up to see his sister’s nor Chim’s reaction, instead continuing.
“Hestia blessed me and in doing so, it accidentally put a target on my back.”
Buck finally looked up at the pair, seeing Chimney’s widened, fascinated eyes – as though he couldn’t believe what he was seeing, eyes locked on the flickering light in Buck’s chest – and Maddie’s still uncomprehending expression.
“I’m what you would call a demi-god. Most demi-gods are formed through birth, relationships of mortals with the gods – best let me finish before the questions come–“ Buck hurried to add, as Chimney’s mouth began to open, his head tilting, similar to Albert’s when he was about to ask a nonsensical question about the logistics of being a demi-god.
“I am a claimed demi-god, one that was chosen not born. They’re pretty rare –“ Buck shrugged, self depreciatingly. “–only the maiden Goddesses tend to do it. Like Artemis. Or, I suppose, Hera has once or twice as well. But anyway, demi-gods have power, we tend to attract the attentions of Gods and monsters, beings that want to use the children of the Gods for their power or to garner the attention of the Gods themselves.”
Buck poured himself another glass of wine.
“Mom and Dad didn’t like the danger, my stories of incidents, the injuries and the monsters. They thought I’d bring it all down on them… that I’d ‘burn them if I got too close’.”
Chimney noted the cadence of Buck’s words and could only assume those were taken verbatim from his parents, before they abandoned him. He clenched his fists angrily; his hatred of the Buckley parents only continued to grow. Chimney was about to become a father himself and he could never imagine saying such a thing to them, no matter what trouble they brought home.
“So, when I was nine, they decided the best avenue to keep me – them – safe was to drop me at Camp.” Buck’s knee started to bounce against the chair, the nervous energy inside him building; unsure where to start. “I happened to go to Camp at a time of upheaval… a war brewing. It came to a head when I was fifteen. You remember that so-called ‘mass hysteria’ that hit Manhattan a decade or so back? The one where everyone claimed to go to sleep for a day or two without contact from the outside –?”
Maddie nodded, numbly. Murmuring a broken, “Yeah.”
Chimney’s face, once again, looked like he was being faced with the news of a natural disaster; both fascinated and horrified all at once.
“That was what we called the Battle of Manhattan. One of the last stands against Kronos, who was trying to destroy the world.”
Maddie’s expression crumpled in horror.
Buck got the sense that he was giving too much information too soon. All of the revelations were beginning to compound and overwhelm her. He started again, aiming to dial it back a bit.
“I mean – look, all that you need to know is that Camp isn’t a cult or a conversion camp. It’s a place to protect young demi-gods while they learn to use their powers… demi-gods who live out in the mortal world, by themselves, tend to die young or end up on the streets.”
Buck leaned back.
He watched Chimney glance at Albert, who was stood behind Buck, for what Buck didn’t know – confirmation or assurance that Buck wasn’t going mad, maybe – Buck felt nervous. They were the first people he’d ever truly told of his Godly heritage. Even Albert had the benefit of being Clear-Sighted and very inclined to believe him.
Chimney’s eyes flickered back down to Buck’s chest, where the glowing ember of Buck’s Hearth fire had dissipated. “Can I ask a question now?”
Buck nodded, slowly. Unsure whether Chimney would be an Albert-special of weird and wonderful questions, or if it would be of the more disbelieving variety.
“So, the scars… they’re from fighting monsters?”
Buck nodded again, unable to trust his voice to speak.
“And nobody made you fight, right?” There was concern in Chimney’s voice as he spoke. “No-one forced you do fight?”
“No. No-one had to. Some kids left when the fighting started –” Buck thought to the many who’d left to try their luck in the mortal world during the first Giants War; so few of them came back after the war was over. Whether they’d managed to form their own lives like the Chief had or whether they’d succumbed to the hazard of being a demi-god alone, Buck didn’t know. “ – some stayed at Camp and chose not to fight.”
There had been campers, year-rounders, that Buck had known that had been left at Camp during infancy who’d been toddlers or younger than seven, who’d been left at camp during the battle. Even the demi-god kids who fought – ones who were pre-teens themselves – had put their foot down at the idea of them being kitted out in bronze armour and sent to the battle-field.
If they’d have lost, they would have died all the same.
Buck shook his head, unwilling to linger on that concept too much longer.
“And the ‘claiming’?” There was a tight, judging way in which Chimney said the word, one that Buck couldn’t even begin to understand.
Buck shrugged.
“Most demi-gods don’t know, when they arrive at Camp, who their Godly parent is. Some Gods claim their kids early, take them into the appropriate cabin and train them to use their specific power-sets early. Some Gods–“ Buck thought back to Apollo’s daughter, Grace, who had grown up in the Hermes cabin only to be claimed until weeks before the Battle of Manhattan. Her scorn and contempt for the belated acknowledgment had been well-known. “– don’t pay as much attention to their kids as they should. Though after the war, they decided to impose a timeline for claiming, so that kids would be acknowledged at all.”
“Why wouldn’t they acknowledge their own kids?” Maddie broke her silence, her voice thin and reedy but expression settled into a faux-look of calm.
Buck huffed a disdainful laugh. “The Gods can be mercurial and their attention fleeting. They sometimes don’t understand the lives of mortals… even their own children.”
“They’re not all that different from human parents then.” Maddie met Buck’s eyes, a tentative smile on her face.
Buck laughed again, more genuinely this time. “Don’t let them catch you saying that.”
There was a beat of awkward silence, with each of them watching each other, not knowing what to say.
“So…” Chimney broke the silence, ”Where does the fire go inside you?”
He peered closer, looking at Buck’s chest warily, as though expecting the fire to burst back out at him.
Buck laughed.
****
So, the presentation had been a bust – having not had the opportunity to give it – though they did bring out the PowerPoint to help answer some of Maddie and Chimney’s most pressing questions.
“Can you juggle the fire balls?” Buck demonstrated for Chimney, to a round of applause and a cheer from both Albert and Chimney –
“What are the ‘favours’ all about then?” Maddie asked with narrow eyes.
Buck had just shrugged, answering. “The Gods aren’t really allowed to get involved in mortal concerns, but if they’re prayed to enough, sometimes they send a mortal demi-god to answer the prayer.”
“Does that mean the Chief who came to visit you was a demi-god too?” Buck gave Chimney a startled look, responding with a, “How do you know the Chief was a demi-god?”
Which led to Chimney sputtering out an explanation of how the 118 had eavesdropped using the vent in the broom closet.
’Wait, is that why Cap boarded up the vent there?!’ –
“Wait, wait –“ Chimney halted the conversation, a crazy look in his eyes. “Are you saying the woman at the Group Home was a REAL-LIFE GODDESS?!”
Buck nodded, unconcerned with Chimney’s seemingly imminent mental breakdown.
“Yeah… and the guy who came to collect the so-called ‘Girl Scouts’ –“ Buck gave quotation marks as he spoke. “ – he was Apollo. And the Girl Scouts were the immortal hunters of Artemis.”
“What?!” –
Hysterically, Chimney had made the mistake of asking, jokingly, an hour in.
“Any other major life revelations any of you want to get out there, while you can?”
He’d spat out his drink when Albert had responded. “Oh, yeah… now might be a good time to tell you that my Mom is descended from a God which is how I can see through the Mist.”
“WHAT?!” –
****
Chimney sat at the dinner table, shell-shocked.
His entire world view had shifted; if the Greek Gods were real, what wasn’t? He’d known curses and horror stories had some truth behind them. Even so, it was hard to put together the idea that Buck – the guy who he’d worked with for four and a half years, who’s sister he was in a relationship with – was the pseudo-son of a literal deity.
The dozen – if not hundreds – of examples of Buck’s idiosyncrasies were reforming in his head, shifting to make a new, explanation for why Buck was like that. And yet, it all kind of made sense; the Ancient Greek, the praying, the scars, the weird ID ages for all those Girl Scouts – Hunters of Artemis, he reminded himself – the way Buck had struggled to say Athena’s name for the longest time.
Chimney let out a slow breath, re-centering himself.
He could see Maddie across the table, touching her baby-bump in a way he recognised as a self-soothing motion; he wasn’t the only one who was struggling with the revelations.
He’d heard the way her voice broke as she asked where each of his scars came from; the way her hands shook as she touched them, with the new-found knowledge of whatever monster or battle Buck had got them in. He’d heard the tenuous grasp to reality she’d had when she asked if the Gods had been kind to Buck.
It said a lot for how much they loved Buck that they were both trying to take this as calmly as they were, at least on the outside. Whatever breakdown he and Maddie would have once Buck had left was a different story.
Then again, if Buck hadn’t demonstrated his flame-powers – the fire juggling, the way he’d cut his finger and then used the flame to heal it after, the way he plunged a ball into his chest and fucking teleported from one end of the kitchen to the seat next to Maddie – Chimney might have been more disbelieving and cynical.
It was going to take a long time before Chimney didn’t think on this with confusion, horror and some semblance of disbelief.
What on Earth would the rest of the 118 think when they heard this?
Wait. Chimney frozen in horror. The 118 didn’t know about the Greek Gods and Goddesses.
And while not explicitly mentioned, Chimney knew he couldn’t be the one to tell them. Not only would they not believe him without evidence, but Buck had been distraught that he hadn’t been able to tell Maddie and Chimney in the way he’d wanted to.
How the Hell was he supposed to keep this a secret?!
****
Hen frowned.
She had her eyes locked on Chimney, assessing him intently.
The man had spent the entire first few hours of their shift doing everything he could to not be in the attic of the Fire House; he’d offered to clean the trucks, to do stocktake – a task he hated more than anything – and even proceeded to take out the bins.
Chimney was avoiding them.
Or, Hen’s gaze narrowed, avoiding all of them except Buck.
She watched Chimney’s shoulders dip in relief as Buck entered the room, moving to his side like a lost puppy. What was going on here?
Chimney only got this squirrelly when he – Hen’s gaze sharpened – when he knew something others didn’t.
Given his proximity to Buck, and avoidance of everyone else, it seemed Buck had told Chimney something. Something Chimney wasn’t allowed to tell anyone else.
The team all sat down to eat, Buck – as usual – fished out his Lighter, as usual, and set a small morsel of food alight with a quiet prayer. Chimney, who’d stolen Eddie’s usual seat to Buck’s right, much to Eddie’s dismay, made an aborted motion to Buck’s hand.
“Can I –?”
Buck gave Chimney a surprised look, before acquiescingly offering the man his Lighter with an eager smile.
And then, Chimney lit a piece of his own meal alight.
Chimney lit a piece of his own meal on fire.
Chimney lit a piece of his own meal on fire.
Chimney -?!
Hen caught Eddie and Bobby’s eyes from across the table.
Her expression of shock mirrored perfectly on their faces.
What had Buck told Chimney to have him feeding into his cult-adjacent practices? Wasn’t Chimney the one who’d told them how he’d admonished Albert for doing the same? How trying to encourage Buck away from the practices might help him to assimilate to life outside of the cult.
Hen was officially concerned.