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Cat's Meow

Started by Jinx, Oct 07, 2018, 02:50 PM

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With all of his heart, Jinx missed Micah. For a year, there was no sign of him; Jinx didn't even feel him peering through his eyes the way he did sometimes when he was scrying, scanning town for danger. His brother said he should give up and find a new master. He kept urging Jinx to go home with him, with his master. Ezra. Micah and Ezra had history. It wouldn't hurt to hang around Ezra. Sometimes, he did. Just to get fed. Maybe for pets. When Ezra talked to him, it was evident he missed Micah, too.

"Where's your owner, hm, Jinxy?" Jinx would shake his head and lift his chin proudly, looking away with disdain. Owner! There was a difference between being a witch's familiar and some random person's cat. Owned! Miffed, he had left but he still came back. Jinx needed a human. It was just that he hadn't yet allowed himself to give into the fact that Micah was really gone.

Jinx kept the apartment clean. He rarely used the human form but it was easier to clean in it. He scraped together money to keep the apartment theirs. He knew, deep down, that Micah was coming back.

And when the fog began to roll back in during the autumn temperature drops, he knew. He knew he was coming back.

In the form of a small black cat, he waited at the door, ears standing at attention, tail swinging from side to side. Jinx could feel him. And then he could hear him, at the door. At long last...!

Q

    Micah Cooper

It was all wrong. The wind. The sun. The noise. It had been so long or maybe it was just a moment. Micah Cooper wasn't used to this world anymore. It was so sudden. His master told him it was over. Then he was back in Hazleton like nothing had happened. But it was different. Micah had no idea how much time had passed. Nothing stood out to him. Everything seemed the same.

But it wasn't. It was the people. It was the middle of the day. The sun was bright. But these people were engulfed in darkness. Pyres upon pyres all lined up like a morbid funeral ritual. When Micah got closer, he recognized some of them. People from the town. People he knew.

The guy from the coffee shop. Coin after coin. Each one falls into the abyss. The next one is it. The next one is the jackpot. What was that?

The woman who works at the pharmacy. That sniveling excuse of a man. At least his brother serves a purpose. His precious child isn't even his. No!

The master was right. Micah had no idea what was going on around him. No, not the master. The Forgotten. They aren't here anymore... but they are watching, always watching.

Micah wanted to go home. His body was on autopilot, his feet carrying him towards the one place that was truly his. And there he'd find his most precious creature – Jinx. Black cats are supposed to bring bad luck. Even his name was inspired by that. But for Micah, it was the opposite. Jinx was the perfect familiar – always there, always friendly, always a loyal companion. Even during those long days when a restoration project was due, he would patiently wait so that they could go home together.

While Micah was away, he had tried to make contact with Jinx, but it was all for not. Instead of seeing through the cat's eyes, Micah was faced with the featureless expression of The Forgotten. They were mocking him. A foolish human trying to break out. It didn't work. Finally, he stopped. But he never forgot about Jinx.

Micah never forgot about Ezra either. He always wondered if the other man had forgotten about him. When he felt the fog, Micah didn't say anything. He didn't leave a message. He didn't expect what would happen. In a way, this was the price he had to pay for being selfish. If he had gone to Ezra, maybe none of this would have happened. But there was no point in dwelling on that.

Before Micah realized it, he was at the door of his home. It was unlocked, just like he left it. He opened the door and right there waiting for him was Jinx. Micah smiled. It had been so long since he felt like doing that. He picked up his familiar and held him gently against his chest. He was finally home again.

"I've missed you so much," Micah whispered. He lifted Jinx up, so he could see that sweet face. That's when he saw it. Darkness bleeding out from the black fur. No, it couldn't be. Animals are not tainted. His master said so.

There's only one explanation. This must be Micah's own darkness he is seeing. Jinx is his familiar after all. They are connected on a magical and spiritual level. This is his corruption infecting his best friend. "I'm sorry." Those words barely passed his lips. He put his forehead against Jinx's and said those words again and again and again and again.

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A year was a long, long time for Jinx. He was, as some people liked to say, "a little autistic"--as cats were sometimes described. He liked routine. In fact, he thrived on it. Cats may have been agents of chaos, introducing it to quiet rooms or to shelves they had no business being atop but when the routines stopped, that was when the chaos really started.

Jinx was fed certain times a day. His master woke certain times, slept certain times, worked certain times. Jinx was accustomed to padding about the house, following him throughout the day, napping nearby, participating in spells, helping his master in whatever capacity he could, and just plain being a good companion. He sorely missed that. There was no Micah to rub his cheek against in the morning, no Micah to loop around his legs. He wasn't there for Jinx to cry at the bathroom door when he spent a suspicious amount of time in there without him. (Jinx was convinced the bathroom was a no-cat zone and thus always tried to bumrush his way inside whenever he saw Micah heading that way.)

For a year, everything was different.

There was Ezra, yes, and Ezra's cat Lucky. They made sure Jinx didn't starve or die. But it wasn't the same. Ezra even took him home only for Jinx to continuously break out and come back home. Stubborn as he was, he was going to be there when Micah came back.

And today...

Today was that day.

In this form, Jinx could only meow but he meowed quite a bit, knowing Micah would get the gist of what he was saying. Mostly that he missed him, too. He butted his head against Micah's hand as if it might disappear if he didn't leave enough of his scent on him. As their heads met, Jinx closed his eyes. Why was Micah apologizing so profusely? He was back, wasn't he? After a long moment of that stance, Jinx lightly pawed at Micah, then he pranced toward the kitchen, where there was a stack of papers, all signed in Ezra Chen's handwriting.

Jinx wasn't the only one trying to get in contact with Micah, after all.

    Micah Cooper

Maybe this was real. Maybe it wasn't just another of The Forgotten's tricks. Micah was home again. He had Jinx in his arms. He should be overjoyed. But it wasn't coming out. Like the wind tapping against the window. It was a hint. Far from reality. Maybe he can't feel anything like that anymore.
A part of Micah was missing. It was yanked from his body without delicacy or tact. It was crafted into a weapon, a tool, a thing. It was in him but not a part of him. Not anymore.

Micah didn't want to let go of Jinx but his familiar had other ideas. Some things hadn't changed – loyal but always following his own path. The witch followed the cat around the apartment. It was home. It looked like his home. It had been so long though. He noticed the calendar on the wall. It had been changed by someone. He should have been concerned but the date was much more troubling. "A year?" he said to himself. "I've been gone a year."

It didn't feel right. It should have been longer. Or shorter. Time... it's not right anymore. Being with The Forgotten, you lose all track of it. There's no way of telling how long he was there. But here a year had passed. He had left Jinx alone for a year. He'd left Ezra alone for a year. All of this was wrong.

In the kitchen, Micah saw the same he had everywhere else – nothing had changed. Except for the notes on the table. Lots of them. He recognized the handwriting. All of them from Ezra. Letters filled with worry, concern, panic. He'd been here. Taken care of the place. Taken care of Jinx. Micah smiled to himself. His two favorite guys together. He wished he could have been here with them. Instead, he left them without warning. He wanted to contact them but... it doesn't really matter anymore. He knew he should call Ezra. He doesn't have to be worried anymore. Micah was back. He wanted to see the man. He wanted to touch him, hold him, kiss him. He wanted to say the things he was too afraid to before.

But Micah was scared. He didn't know what had happened while he was gone. Maybe Ezra moved on. Found someone else. He was entitled to do that. He didn't have to wait for someone who leaves without a word. The witch had to gather himself, gather his strength.

Micah turned towards his precious Jinx. Fear filled his eyes. Behind the cat, the world rippled like it was water. From its depths, something was moving towards Jinx. A dark hand, long thin fingers, sharp nails.

Pretty kitty.

"No!" Micah yelled and grabbed Jinx. He back away as far as he could. The Forgotten was mocking him. Laughing at him. Or maybe they were just there. His master is above such petty actions. But then why were they doing this. The hand disappeared. Micah could still feel it. Suddenly it tapped his head. He jumped back, trying to keep Jinx as far away from The Forgotten as possible.

So jumpy. You are home now. Relax. Live. Your work will begin when it is the right time. For now, your hunter waits for you.

More laughter. And the hand was gone again. It wasn't here anymore. The Forgotten sees everything but at least his touch was far away for now. He put Jinx down, "I'm sorry. I didn't hurt you?" Micah scratched under Jinx' chin trying to make up for all of this.

Micah looked at the notes again. He had to do this quickly. There's no knowing what The Forgotten will do. They might pull Ezra into their plans. Or mess with him just to get at Micah. Or not do anything at all.

Micah's phone was still on the kitchen table where he'd left it. He was too afraid to hear Ezra's voice. So, he wrote a text instead. Just three words – "I am back."

The enchanter's body felt suddenly tired. He sat down on the kitchen floor next to Jinx. "Are you hungry?" he asked, his head drifting towards unconsciousness.

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Jinx felt quite proud of himself. He had shown his master Micah the letters left behind by Ezra. Often, Ezra would sit right there in the kitchen and pen them, lifting his head and looking around every so often, as if he expected to see Micah come around the corner and enter the kitchen. Jinx let him pet him--Ezra--because he was there and he needed pets. But he sometimes resented seeing Ezra come through the door when his heart was still waiting to see Micah. Generally, he didn't stay resentful long. He might nip once or twice but eventually, Ezra would get the spot behind his ear and his cheek and Jinx would melt into a useless puddle of black fur on the table.

His pride immediately changed to panic when Micah grabbed him and held him tightly, backing away from... something. Even Jinx saw it, likely because of the familiar pact with Micah. Something dark and shadowy was in the room with them and it caused Jinx to hiss, his back arching dramatically. His claws sank into Micah when he jumped and he turned his head wildly, his tail swinging. What was out there? Whatever it was, it seemed to have toyed with Micah the way Jinx did with mice and birds. And now it was gone...?

Jinx meowed indignantly but he allowed the chin rub. Then he watched Micah looking over the letters. He watched Micah text three simple words to Ezra. And then he curled up beside Micah's thigh as he sat down on the floor. No, no. He wasn't hungry right now. Really, he was worried about the way Micah was acting. He'd brought something back with him from wherever he'd been. Slowly, Jinx crawled up Micah's chest and tucked his head beneath Micah's chin, something he'd done from kitten-hood.

Then he heard Micah's phone buzz in response to his text.

I'm on my way.

    Micah Cooper

It wasn't fair. The first time Micah saw Jinx, there was a connection. A bond had formed between a witch and his familiar. For the first time in his life, Micah felt responsible for someone else. And now he had brought this monster into Jinx's life. He felt more guilt now than he did trapped in that damn shadowy place. Before Micah had left. Now he had come back as something worse. He didn't feel anything for himself. Not anymore. The witch's selfishness brought this on him. He deserved it. Jinx didn't.

But sitting on the kitchen floor, hearing Jinx's gentle purrs, Micah felt the routines of his old life burrowing back out. He had tried to let them go. They hurt too much. Now, they brought back the joy that had been gone for so long.

The first time Jinx did this, Micah had half the mind to put the cat somewhere else. He couldn't though. Jinx was so peaceful. It would have been a crime to interrupt that. At the same time, it relaxed Micah. His familiar was like a wave machine. The sweet hum in the background let the enchanter's mind rest, gathering his bearing, focus his thoughts. That's usually when he got his best ideas, the most effective enchantments, the quickest rituals. Jinx was the best familiar you could imagine. That's what made this whole thing more painful.

Micah read the text and sighed. Ezra was going to be here soon. He'd be dragged into this too. It wouldn't be fair to stop him now. He deserves answers and Micah has to give them to him. He didn't want to sit here waiting. He held on to Jinx and got up. When you have such an affectionate cat, you learn how to move without interrupting them.

Micah thought about changing his clothes. He'd been in them for what seemed like forever. You couldn't tell. They had just come from the wash that day. They still had the scent of that lavender fabric softener on them. Another painful reminder of home even now as Micah walked to his bedroom. The witch sat on the bed. It felt soft and comfortable like he remembered it.

Absentmindedly, Micah stroked Jinx's soft fur. He didn't know how to be anymore. It was all so strange and new but old and familiar the same time. "You should be mad at me," he said. "I left you here all alone. You've never left me. And then I... I ran."

A pause. For a moment, Micah felt like crying. He couldn't do it around the master. They stopped him just for fun. Here he had a chance to let it out. But he couldn't. Because the reason he wanted to cry, the loneliness was gone now. He had Jinx again. And he was never going to leave his familiar again. Never again. He wasn't a defenseless enchanter anymore. He was something greater even if he hated it. But if this kept him here, Micah will accept it. He will never be afraid again.

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Ezra had intended to take the fish back to his place and spoil his cats rotten but as soon as he saw that text from Micah, he immediately switched direction. Where else could he be? There were a thousand questions he ought to have shot Micah, like where, why, how? And behind those words were multiple questions. Why did he disappear? Why such strange timing? For some time, Ezra's hurt had been disguised by anger, certain that Micah had vanished to escape him.

That was foolish, though. A foolish thought. First, Micah wouldn't do that. Second, Micah wouldn't leave his familiar behind. With Jinx hanging around waiting for his master endlessly, Ezra had to believe he'd be back. He just never imagined it would be an entire year after he disappeared.

At least he told you he's back, he told himself as he bit his lower lip and turned down a familiar road up ahead. Micah's place. Ezra had been there multiple times on his own and with Jinx. He didn't know when he decided to start writing but at some point, the letters began. If he ever came back, he could read straight into Ezra's soul at that moment in time.

Now he wondered if he should have left those letters. With the prospect that Micah was actually reading them right now, he could feel his neck growing a little warm. Clearing his throat, he checked the streets before he turned into the parking area for Micah's place. When he cut the engine, he didn't immediately vacate the vehicle. Instead, he sat there, holding onto the steering wheel with a lump in his throat.

This better not be a prank.

Swallowing hard, he squeezed the steering wheel once before letting go and letting out a long breath. Then he unfolded himself from the driver's seat, stepping into the cool air, and closing the door behind him gently.

He felt much the same once he made it to the front door. While he had a key to the place, some part of him felt the year between them so acutely that he found himself pulling the key back and holding it away. After a moment, he slid the keys into his pocket and he knocked on the door a couple of times before calling out, "Micah? Are you in there?"

It felt too good to be true. It was probably a nightmare.

    Micah Cooper

The sound of the clock ticking in the background. Such an unusual sound. Micah wasn't used to this anymore. Time. Passing of time. He felt like he'd just come off the rough seas. Even though the ground was stable, he body was not adjusted to it. It was the same with waiting and rest. None of existed by the master's side. It was all one never-ending nightmare. For a moment, Micah could have sworn he heard a faint laughter coming from somewhere in the room. What once could be passed off as a figment of his imaginations was now something real and frightening.

The slow decent towards the night was easier for Micah thanks to the sweet ball of fur resting in his arms. Unlike the clock, Jinx's purrs calmed him. He counted the cat's breaths as they were something precious. It was a trance of sorts. Time passed quickly like that.

The door opened. Micah knew it was Ezra before the man had a chance to speak. Who else could it be anyway? Micah placed Jinx on the bed and followed the voice towards the front door. He stopped before he entered the hallways. Hesitation. Fear. Doubt. The feelings were strong and powerful. It had been so long since they had last seen each other. Back then it was good. Better than good. It was perfect. Micah wasn't sure anymore. A year is a long time. Many things could have changed. After all, he had in a most dramatic fashion.

Finally, mustering all the courage he had, Micah stepped out to face Ezra. The first thing he saw was the man's eyes. Those warm inviting eyes. They were easy to get lost in. The most effective kind of lure. But for the first time, they could not distract Micah from the reality of the situation.

Darkness flared around Ezra like a beast raging, ready to attack. There was a scent of blood in the air. Whether it was real or part of the darkness, Micah couldn't tell. But there was something else, something keeping the darkness at bay. Chains or some kind.

"How much blood is on your hands?" The words slipped out before Micah could stop himself. He felt like he'd been fooling himself all this time. Ezra was a hunter after all. It's what he does. The enchanter had been blind to the reality. Now the darkness was dragging it out for him to see.

No, that's not true. Micah knew who Ezra was. There were never lies between them. He understood why the other man did what he did. Why was he so angry about this then? It made no sense. He wasn't being shown anything he didn't already know. These were nothing compared to the fears that crossed his mind when he first found out. This darkness wasn't Ezra. Micha knew the man in the darkness. This was just... a grotesque transformation, a twisted view. Nothing else.

As if obeying, the darkness dissipated into the air. There was only Ezra now. Micah smiled a faint smile. He wanted to see this man so bad but now... he shouldn't have said those words.

"Ezra," Micah started. He took a step forwards. The whole world started to feel wobbly and hazy. The energy he thought he had was gone. His body must have caught up with everything that had happened. He got to see Ezra again. That was keeping him awake and alert. Now there was nothing. Micah slumped to the ground. In those final moments of consciousness, Micah hoped that all of this was real and not another of The Forgotten's games. He couldn't handle it. When he opened his eyes again, he hoped to see Ezra again. That's all he wanted.

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Relief was palpable; Ezra's expression relaxed into one of pure relief. Finally. Micah was home, where he belonged. An entire year had passed or close to it. Nothing. No matter how often Ezra showed up in an effort to catch Micah in the act (at first, he was convinced that Micah was coming home and disappearing whenever Ezra showed up) but it didn't matter what time or day of the week he showed up. Micah was inexplicably missing.

He was missing. Possibly hurt. Murdered. Kidnapped. Held by some supernatural force. Ezra knew what Micah was. He'd learned fairly early in their relationship that he could enchant things. People. Sometimes he wondered if that was the reason he wore those blinders, the rose colored glasses when he looked at Micah. Not all witches are evil, he was told. Warlock, what people used to call male witches--that sounded so much more sinister. But then, witch had a negative connotation to it as well.

Magic, though. Magic was kinda wondrous in its way. Micah's magic was. In Ezra's eyes, it was different. It was helping him, it was helping the world. He tried not to target witches as a courtesy to Micah, though.

Ezra's smile vanished at Micah's accusatory question and he stopped dead in his tracks. For a moment, he fixed his gaze on Micah. So after a year, this was what he had to say to Ezra? It took all of Ezra's strength of will not to look down at his hands, as if they were literally drenched in blood.

I'm a hunter. Micah knew this. So why would he suddenly say something like that? He had to know there was blood on his hands. And now he wants to know exactly how much. Had he taken out a witch in Micah's absence? He didn't think he had.

"I," he started but before he knew it, Micah seemed to succumb to weakness. One moment he was standing there speaking his name in his soft voice, and the next, he was keeling over. Micah's familiar immediately let out a yowl but Ezra ignored him as he instinctively leapt forward and tried to catch Micah before his head hit the ground.

"Micah?" He crouched there on one knee, cradling Micah as he looked down into his face with concern. He moved a hand to the side of his face. "Micah, stay with me! What's happening?"

    Micah Cooper

Micah's body didn't feel like his own. He was so tired. It all seemed to take forever yet pass in a flash. He was falling. He wasn't falling. He heard Jinx. He felt a hand on his face. Ezra's voice. His eyes. Micah smiled faintly, "Tired." The words were weak. He consciousness slipped away into darkness.



You miss your home.

"Of course I do."

Why?

"You can't be serious! How can you ask me that? Are you so fucking distant from everything?"

No, I am curious. Is it maybe your familiar?

"Shut up!"

Or your hunter? Do you miss being in the arms of a killer?

"SHUT UP!"



Micah's eyes snapped open. He wasn't sure how much time had passed. An all too familiar feeling. He was in the same position he had been before so it couldn't have been more than a few seconds. His mind had been forcibly dragged back into a moment he did not want to relive. The master put many thoughts into Micah's mind just to see the reaction. The pain. The despair. The hurt. Until he was broken and couldn't fight anymore. After that, it was all too easy to train a good little apprentice.

Micah looked at Ezra. There had been many times he had looked up at the other man and felt joy and happiness. Now there was regret. "I'm sorry," he whispered. It wasn't just for what he had said moments before. He had a lot to apologize for. For disappearing without a warning. For not saying how he felt. Now it felt wrong to say it at all. Ezra deserved someone normal. Someone who he didn't have to hide. Someone who wasn't whatever kind of horror Micah was now.

Weakly Micah pushed himself to sit. He wasn't ready to get up. He didn't want to lean on Ezra too much. It felt wrong. "I..." he didn't know what to say anymore. Apologizing again was useless. "I'm sorry." That didn't stop him.

There was a strange echo coming from Ezra. At first, Micah couldn't figure what was causing it. It was familiar though. And then he smiled. He reached out towards Ezra's jacket. From his breast pocket, he pulled an ornate coin. Micha remembered enchanting it for good luck. He was inspired after one night when Ezra stayed over. "Do you ever empty out your pockets?" Micah gave Ezra an amused look. For a moment it felt like old times. But only for a moment. "Sorry," he said again.

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"You really need to stop apologizing," Ezra murmured. The apologies could be for everything and anything at this point--the only one that mattered was I'm sorry I disappeared. But he was here now and Ezra wasn't currently looking for apologies. Not even explanations at the moment. Those could wait. Obviously, something was wrong and whatever happened to Micah didn't appear to be one hundred percent his fault.

Or maybe it was, since he kept apologizing. Ezra preferred not to think that way and he pushed the thought down. No, he was sure Micah had disappeared because of somebody--or something--else's doing. Ezra's brow slightly creased and he kept an arm protectively around Micah, though he lowered the hand that had touched Micah's face as he waited for Micah to make himself more comfortable. Ezra noticed he didn't seem to want to lean on him but Ezra stayed close, shoulder to shoulder.

With some surprise he looked down at the coin that Micah had withdrawn from his pocket and then his own smile was briefly as amused as Micah's.

"Yes," he said, "I just happen to like that coin, fyi."

He didn't know why he liked it, though. Something about it had called to him and he ended up carrying it with him everywhere. Often, he looked at it, turning it over in his palm. He could have sworn it was always slightly warmer than a coin ought to be. He'd rubbed a thumb over it and he could have sworn that it made him feel good. As if he couldn't lose a fight as long as he brought it along. Ezra tilted his head and stared at Micah for a long moment.

"Did you...?"

    Micah Cooper

Micah didn't have much else to offer besides apologies. He didn't deserve these moments. It shouldn't be this easy to feel like nothing had happened. He'd been gone a year, even longer from his perspective. Micah wanted nothing more than to go back to that simpler time. He wanted to feel Ezra's arms around him. Maybe one day, it'll feel right again. Right now, Micah had to earn back the right to do that. If not for Ezra then at least for himself.

"You seem surprised," Micah noted at Ezra's question. "I'm an enchanter after all." It's a complicated business – enchanting. It's a lot like restoring an antique. You remove the old and worn pieces with meticulous care, clean them up the best you can or replace if you can't, then you put it back together and bring out that special quality within. Enchanting is that extra flair at the end to make what you restored better than it ever was.

That's what Micah had done with the coin. It made it easier because it was for Ezra. Strong positive emotions make for the best enchantments. Micha had a lot of them for Ezra. Looking at the man now, they were all still there. They were calling out. For so long, Micah had been in a place where he was denying his happiness. And before that, he did it himself. He didn't want that anymore. He didn't want regrets.

"I missed you so much," Micah said, his voice breaking at the end like it couldn't contain all the feelings those words carried. "I was scared. I panicked. I couldn't get back. They didn't let me." Once he started, he couldn't stop. "I wanted to. To see you again. To tell you that I..." but those words refused to leave his lips. Micah couldn't say it to Ezra now. Not after what he had done and said.

Micah gave the coin back to Ezra. He felt pulled toward the other man. It was instinct and old habits. "Thank you... for taking care of Jinx," he said, still moving towards Ezra without even realizing it. And a moment later, their lips touched.

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The best enchanter that Ezra knew. Probably his association with an enchanter was bad news for the both of them, given how their separate sides felt about the other. Witches, warlocks, the like--they hated hunters. And hunters, they hated anything supernatural. Funny how the world slapped those labels onto them. Ezra found himself lacking the same hatred his father had for anything magical. In fact, he had always been drawn to it, to magic like Micah's. Fascinating. Not always negative. Ezra thrived with the positive. He'd built his life around rescuing every cat he found in the streets and yet he worked as a hunter.

It was almost laughable--the set up for some ridiculous sitcom. Ezra almost said it, too--"We could've been a sitcom." A hunter and his enchanter friend and the cat familiar. It was almost fate that Micah's familiar was a cat, too. Like maybe they were pieces of that puzzle that just needed to be connected.

"They?" Who? Why? Ezra tensed, he felt his muscles clenching at the thought of somebody absconding with Micah and forcing him to do whatever it was he'd been doing this past year. He was back now and he looked... He looked the same but there was something new in his eyes that Ezra didn't remember seeing before. Something hunted. Haunted. Something happened, something... Ezra listened to the broken words as they tumbled from Micah and he unconsciously leaned forward, as if they were too soft to hear otherwise. Maybe it was more that he was waiting for something else. His heart thumped harder as the coin was slipped back into his hand. Slowly, his fingers curled around the warm coin. The lucky coin. Enchanted coin. Micah's gift to him.

"Ah," he started with the smallest ghost of a smile, "I..."

His intended explanation drifted away as Micah leaned closer. Somehow, it was harder to think when he was so close that he could feel his breath on his lips. Thinking crashed to a halt altogether as their lips met. There was only the briefest of hesitations--some part of Ezra short circuiting a warning that he ignored--before he leaned in closer, deepening the kiss. His hand slid over an arm and up a shoulder, fingertips splaying over the back of Micah's neck. Although his father's voice screamed in the back of his head, it was quickly muted when Ezra deepened the kiss until he could scarcely breathe. He only broke away when his lungs screamed for breath but even then, he rested his forehead against Micah's, their noses brushing.

It had been a year and they said that absence makes the heart grow fonder.

"I missed you, too. God, Micah, I looked everywhere for you."

    Micah Cooper

Truth is supposed to set you free. Micah didn't feel that way. Everything he said to Ezra took away a chain from around him and replaced it with a dozen new ones. There was so much to tell the man but Micah feared what might come out of his mouth. The Forgotten is an unpredictable master. With one hand, they pull the strings of your pain and suffering tighter and tighter until they snap and you bleed again. With the other, they build you up, make you stronger, show you the potential that is inside of you. The Forgotten is a cruel and generous master all in one.

But the thing about fear is that it fades away and leaves behind something else. Like the moment your eyes adjust to the darkness in your room at night and that strange shadow in the corner is just your coat that you forgot there.

For Micah, it was that kiss. The moment where it all clicked into place. What was truly important. All this time Micah was away from Ezra longing for just a single moment with him. Now he had that chance and he was wasting it on doubt. He didn't want to fight this. Micah's hand tightened into a fist grabbing Ezra's shirt. He wanted to keep this man close. He didn't want to let him go. He didn't want this kiss to end.

A moment seemed like forever. The good kind of forever. When their lips parted, Micah felt his heart rushing so fast. A bit lightheaded too. The rush of happiness made his mouth curl up slightly to a smile. This moment was right. His eyes fluttered open to catch the sight of Ezra. Maybe he wanted to be sure it was real when it felt too good to be so. But there he was. Still there. Always there.

"I know," Micah whispered. He hadn't needed The Forgotten's taunting him about to know. Ezra had always been there for him. That time when Micah had a nightmare about Jinx getting hurt, the enchanter couldn't stop crying. He felt like he was losing his mind. And then Ezra showed up with pizza and every funny movie the man could get his hands on. It was moments like this that made Micah realize how much he loved Ezra even if he afraid to say those words to him.

"I want to tell you everything," Micah said, "But I can't. Not tonight." The reality was still too fragile. He needed a moment. He needed Ezra. "Will you stay with me tonight? Just stay... please." Micah needed this night. He needed this to be real so he could face tomorrow. Face the guilt. Face the questions. Face whatever he had become.

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Truly, there had been an emptiness left behind when Micah disappeared so abruptly. There was anger, at first. Had Micah turned tail on him? But the anger was short-lived, eaten quickly by the worms of worry. Where had he gone? It wasn't like him to simply disappear. Had somebody taken him? If so, then... who? The problem was, there were a lot of rumors going around at the time, different causes for the fog, correlations with the fog. Some said the fog was just a coincidence. Somehow, Ezra just couldn't bring himself to believe it.

Part of him knew, deep down, that he ought to have given up several months ago. How easily he could have just taken Jinx into his home and moved on. Yet, Jinx knew and if Jinx was going to wait, Ezra knew that he had to as well. Jinx knew something. He just couldn't tell him. And so they waited.

Waited.

Waited for this moment, right here.

It had been so long since he saw that smile, the warmth in Micah's eyes. Had they really just...? Ezra's heart felt like it might have skipped a beat or two--he was both elated and hesitant. Yet it felt right. There wasn't a single regret for having done it. Kissing Micah. It was natural. He gently ran a thumb over the side of Micah's throat. Something changed in all that time Micah had been missing but some of those things seemed.... not new. Rather... as if they were bursting to release themselves from the burden of closed lips.

Nearby, he felt Jinx rubbing up against their legs but at the moment, Ezra had eyes for nobody but Micah.

"Of course I'll stay." His chest ached at the tone of Micah's voice. After dropping everything to be here, there was no reason on Earth he could think of that could pry him away now. Some things were just made clearer when one hadn't seen somebody in so long. And when they came back, it all fit together. Explanations didn't matter. Or they did, but it was obvious to Ezra that it had been a traumatizing event and Micah was in no big hurry to relive it.

As many questions as he did have, he kept them to himself. Micah said it already: he would tell him. Just not now, not tonight. That was fair enough. With a genuine smile, he leaned in to kiss the bridge of Micah's nose--a sign of affection, of assurance.

"I'm just glad to see you. I'd say you didn't miss much, but..." He gently took hold of Micah's hand, threading his fingers through Micah's. "Hazleton. Need I say more?"