avatar_Niall Gallagher

The Lucky One

Started by Niall Gallagher, Feb 28, 2019, 02:37 PM

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They were all staring at him. This was nothing new; Niall was used to that kind of stare, since he was wearing a shirt that bared his midriff, a flowy blouse from the thrift store atop that, and pants tight enough to look like they could have been painted on. His nails were painted black, and then there was the kohl spread around his eyes like a raccoon. He was quite aware that people stared--that didn't really bother him.

But they knew Cain and they were bullies. They were making Cain cower inside the booth in fear and that--THAT--was not okay. NOT okay.

Niall skirted around the table and toward the group of men, not at all heeding poor Cain's warning. They were going to hurt him? Hah! Maybe! But no more than he hurt himself on a daily basis.

"What're you doing picking on a kid?" Niall asked, poking the closest one square in the chest. He didn't expect the man to grab his wrist and tighten until it made an icky cracking sound. Niall whimpered and bowed forward in pain.

"A-a-ahhhh, alright alright, you... bully," he sputtered, trying to delicately pull his arm back into his possession while also maintaining his position as defender of innocent kids.

"No! Stop! He's—my friend!"

Cain didn't speak louder than a whisper most days, so his outburst halted the rest of the hunters closing in on Niall, intent on finishing the job. He ran out of the booth—nearly catching himself on the end of the bench—and put out a hand to clutch at Jem's wrist. "Stop, he's my friend..."

The wrist looked broken, or at least severely sprained. Cain bit his lip, trying to decide how much he should say to Niall to diffuse the situation. It was all a misunderstanding, really. Niall thought Jem and the others wanted to hurt him and the others... Well, they probably wondered why a flamboyant stranger tried to attack them out of nowhere.

"They're... not bullies," he explained at last to Niall. "They're not here to hurt me." They would hurt Niall, though, if they knew that he was one of the Unclean—but Cain wasn't going to tell them that.

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The guy let go of his wrist and Niall immediately nursed it against his chest, holding it gingerly with his good hand. Ouch. He was afraid to even move it in case it had broken. It definitely crunched when that guy grabbed it. He fully intended to break everything, didn't he? Shit. Niall looked up at the apparent not-bullies who were eyeing him with really unfriendly expressions, every last one of them. Sheesh. What did he do? He was just trying to stick up for a kid. Ow.

"Well, they hurt me."

Jerks. Bullies.

Then the one called Jem leaned forward, peering at Niall as if to get a better look at him. Niall side-eyed him. What? What was he looking at?

"Niall?" Jem said, then let out a whistle. "Niall Gallagher? Is that you? Shit. You grew up, didn't you?"

Somebody from behind made a scoffing sound. "His clothes didn't."

Somebody else laughed at that. Niall frowned. Hunters. It was the same Jem. Well. Fuck. His. Life.

Cain hated seeing Niall hurt. He hated seeing anybody hurt because that wasn't what God wanted. God wanted to save and forgive, not to inflict pain and torment. Only the Devil did that--and Niall wasn't the Devil, no matter how funny his mode of dress or his behavior. He was a big brother; he loved his little brother. Nobody who did that was truly evil.

He slid to Niall's side and awkwardly latched onto the edge of his shirt. "I'm sorry," was all he got to say before Jem leaned in, and Cain tensed--expecting the worst. But Jem's face cleared and he seemed to recognize Niall. Cain blinked. "Huh?" he said before he could stop himself. "You know him, Jem?"

But... but Niall was Unclean and Jem was a hunter! Of course, there were supernaturals on their side--rare, but possible. Was Niall one of them? That almost made Cain feel better about this whole situation--saving Niall now only meant bringing him back to God's side, which could be done with patience and perseverance and a whole lot of preaching.

"...you're not going to hurt him, are you?" he asked Jem hopefully, ignoring the jibes of the others.

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#34
"You are a bunch of bullies," he intoned as he pulled his shirt down to no avail. Admittedly, he was not altogether excited to be seeing Jem and his hunter team. Jem grew up nearby and his team overlapped with the Gallaghers plenty of times. Jem used to be pretty close friends with Paddy, too and the both of them were bullies and jerks. Seemed like some things didn't change. But Jem got real ugly after the whole thing came out that Niall wasn't... straight. Even now, he was looking him over like he could barely stand the sight of him. But there was surprise there, too. He probably thought Niall couldn't hang on his own.

"No reason to," Jem said, in response to Cain's question, even though he already hurt him--hello, wrist?! "He's just an ex-hunter." Jem suddenly snapped his gaze toward Cain, shrewd and intensely interested. "Why... would you ask that, though? Hm, Cain?"

His gaze swung back to Niall, who flinched.

"Did you get yourself bitten? Attacked?" Jem reached over and gripped Niall's hair to jerk his head to the side, revealing the bite marks underneath the high collar of his shirt. "Vampires? Really? What is he, Cain? He's been turned?"

"H-he's... my friend and you were--you were--"

Under Jem's scrutiny, Cain shrank back. He disliked the way that Jem now looked upon him with suspicion, as though he could see through Cain's thoughts. He doubly didn't like the way that the words were thrown at him, casting his words and motivations into doubt. Jem was hurting Niall, so Cain thought... maybe he might hurt him some more. But Jem latched onto it and now... Now...

Cain wished that Isaiah were here. Isaiah would have spoken up for him. He would have used words that Jem couldn't twist around; he wouldn't have let Jem hurt a friend of Cain's. But Isaiah was probably out looking for him now, because he'd run off at the crack of dawn to follow his visions. God's vision, sent down in the form of a dream.

Ex-hunter?

Niall used to be one of them?! But that was wonderful! Cain's happiness was short-lived, as Jem swooped in again, heavy-handed as usual. "No! He's not--not a vampire! No!" Cain couldn't be sure, but he didn't think Niall was one of those creatures. The marks on his throat were damning, but the feeling he got from Niall was different from the one he got off of vampires. "You said you weren't going to hurt him..."

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Jem remembered Niall. He was sort of impossible to forget. Even as a kid, he was weird. There was something off about him. Jem's adoptive father used to say he was touched in the head and to never mind him, mostly because he didn't want to cause friction between them and the famous Gallaghers. Paddy said he was weird, too. Didn't like him, either. Sometimes they cornered Niall and they... well, they basically tortured him as a kid. Paddy said he deserved it. He was off. He was touched in the head. It wasn't like it mattered, anyway. Niall sucked at everything he did. He couldn't shoot, he couldn't use weapons. He cried any time he had to kill something.

It all sort of made sense when Colm Sr. found out he was fucking around with guys. Everything clicked. No wonder he was fucking queer. He was queer.

And he was still queer, by the looks of it. Not even a hunter anymore. He didn't deny it, when Jem said ex. And he had those bite marks. He was screwing with vampires now. Cain, he knew. He had some kind of sight, some kind of detection ability. He could feel the supers out. But he was protecting this one, so he couldn't be. Could he? Jem couldn't tell exactly but he felt like Cain was lying. Or covering up. Something.

"I'm not," Jem said, letting go of Niall's hair none-too-gently. "He likes it rough. He lets vampires bite him."

Niall pulled his collar back up but it didn't matter. The bites had been seen by all of them. They were ugly. The mark of the Unclean. Even if Niall was just a human, he had been touched by death. Disgusting. Jem would never let a vampire put its lips anywhere near him.

"Where the fuck is Ken?" Jem said as he turned away from Niall and Cain, irritated that they were still waiting on him.

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All the way into Hazleton, Ken mused over his chance encounter with Gregg and the newbie, Aldon. Something just felt off about those two. He didn't mind so much the PDA or that Gregg's edges had softened since the last time they met, it was Aldon. The nervousness. It was a warning sign and Ken, he always heeded the signs.

But he also didn't want to get on Gregg's bad side, not without proof. Aldon had none of the usual marks on him and his nervousness could be a result of their job. Those vampires upstate were no joke and falling prey to them... Well, Ken would rather slice off his own neck than fall under the thrall of one of them. Blood-sucking parasites were all they were, he thought with uncharacteristic bitterness.

Still, Ken just didn't feel quite at ease around Aldon and he wished that he could have spent a little more time with him, to figure him out. But he had pressing business in Hazleton. Jem's group were on to something and Ken was here to help. Supernaturals who hunted hunters. Cute. Ken's eyes fell to the bag sitting by his feet, which contained his weapons, passed down through the generations. Nobody was going to hurt hunters while he was around.

Once the bus dropped him off at the depot, he took a brisk walk towards the diner where he was supposed to meet with Jem and his men. It wasn't far, the woman at the ticket counter assured him. Two blocks, turn left, and--there it was. Red Rocket Diner, the sign said, and through grimy windows Ken saw a group of men. He pushed through the door, let it swing shut behind him, and paused.

"Jem." Ken approached, ignoring briefly the kid and the man with the garish makeup. "What's going on?"

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"Speak of the devil!"

Jem shook his head as the others turned to see Ken in the flesh. So he'd finally made it. They could use the help; the supers hunting hunters sounded funny but the number of hunters that had been killed so far were starting to actually worry Jem--and Jem was not a worrier. He was a man who took care of business and this business was getting out of hand.

"Let's get to it, then, shall we?"

Jem rubbed his hands together and then nodded toward a big booth in the back. The diner was owned by one of them so he knew he could count on the owner to keep any busybody supers out of their hair. That was exactly why he chose this location. It was one of few they could meet publicly. The owner even turned over the sign in the window to say they were currently closed before standing behind the counter with an authoritative air.

As they started toward the booth, Jem moved toward Ken and grinned.

"Guess who we just bumped into?"

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"Of course. That's what I'm here for." All business, all the time. Ken had no mind for frivolities now. Once, perhaps, he believed in a more balanced lifestyle but that was all in the past now, and he was content to keep the past where it belonged--in the past. The Ken that people knew now had grown up considerably from the teenager with big dreams and fairy stories in his head.

As he passed, he cast a glance towards the obvious sore thumbs in the diner. The kid trailed along with them, surprisingly, and the other man... Underneath the panda eyes and facial hair, it was hard to tell what he actually looked like. Ken thought for a second that he recognized him but he couldn't quite put his finger on a name.

"Hm?" Jem was saying something. Ken turned back to him with a wry smile. "The loch ness monster."

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Jem let out a bark of a laugh.

"Oh yes, I met the loch ness monster, finally, after all those years in the fucking UK, I met the bastard here, in the US!"

Some of the others laughed as well, which only made Jem smirk more. Nessie probably did exist at some point, but hunters had likely taken it out. Too bad. Jem would have liked a go at it for himself. Shaking his head, he thrust a thumb back toward Cain and his unwelcome dog, who was trailing behind him like some lost little sheep that didn't know what else to do with himself.

"No, mate! It's that fucking weirdo, Niall Gallagher!" As far as Jem knew, Ken was on the same page as himself and the others in regards to Niall. Niall's father never said who the guys were that his son was fucking with and Jem didn't even know if the old man even knew. Ken was a little quiet after Niall left, sure, but that was probably just because the Gallaghers were being cut down in their prime. Privately, Jem and his father were glad. It meant there was finally time for other hunter families to shine in the spotlight for once.

"That's him, in the fucking raccoon makeup, queer as ever. Our kid, Cain here, found him, apparently."

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#41
Ken cracked a tiny smile. See? He was capable of humor, dry though it was. The loch ness monster was the stuff of legends. Some trophy hunter had probably gotten to it first, though. There were ones who didn't hunt for the sake of the greater good, but for sport. For the heads of supernatural creatures to mount up onto their walls. For the pure adrenaline of hunting something that could fight back.

Ken wasn't like that, but he knew men and women like that. His cousin was one of them, too--a legacy hunter who used his skills for selfish reasons. Ken wasn't passing judgment but he thought that it was a waste nonetheless. Then again, his cousin was also the one who sold him out so he supposed that the trophy hunting was in line with the kind of snake that he was.

"What?" Jem's words stopped him in his tracks. Somebody rammed into him, he stopped so fast, and the man grumbled as he bumped past Ken. But Ken barely felt the shoulder check. He was too stunned to move and when he did, it was only to turn his head to stare, uncomprehending, at the man with the makeup.

Niall? Here? Was that really him? He looked... completely different from the kid with the fresh face and bright, cheery voice that Ken once knew. This couldn't be the same one whom he held hands with, who laid with him under the stars and whose laugh was so infectious that Ken had to join in, too. Not the Niall who collapsed into him after Lorcan's death, whose pain was Ken's pain. Ken barely recognized him--and they were once nearly inseparable.

"...Niall?" Where was he inside of this man?

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Should he leave? He thought he should but the guy behind the counter looked like he might bite his head off if he asked him to unlock the door to let him out. The business was supposed to be closed, after all. Maybe Niall could just... inch over and open it himself but he couldn't tell if he should. Was he supposed to stay? He was an ex-hunter, as Jem so prudently put it. Whatever they talked about could get back to the people they were fighting. They couldn't trust Niall not to spit out what they were doing to the vampires they already knew about.

Niall shifted his shoulders slightly.

He heard the name Ken but it was a common name. It wasn't until he actually looked at him while he interacted with Jem that he realized that there was history between the two. This Ken was probably that Ken. In fact, how many Kens with an accent like that had white blond hair like that?

Niall was struck with the sudden instinct to duck into another booth, maybe even underneath a table. Ken was the last person he wanted to see right now. Seriously, things were already messed up for him. He didn't need Ken around to 1. see it and 2. add to it. It took a long time to get over him. He didn't need him looking at him and bringing the past flooding back. But too bad for Niall because Ken turned around and looked at him and Niall blinked and stared back before looking behind him, as if there was another Niall around.

Insecurity mounted the longer Ken looked at him. This Ken was hard to read now. Niall used to be able to make him laugh with his stupid jokes and his antics. Somehow, this Ken looked like he would watch him with a stone expression. No, no. He did make that joke about Nessie. There was still some of the old Ken in there. It was just that he was joking around with Jem, of all people. It stabbed Niall in the heart, seeing those two exchange smiles. The worst of his past and the best of his past. Colliding.

"In the flesh," he said with a half grin, raising both his hands in an almost shrug, then wincing and bringing his wounded wrist back to his chest like wounded bird with a lame wing. "Although I don't think I'm supposed to be here so... I think..." He stepped backward, hip brushing a table on the way out. "I'll be going now. Art in the park's still going on and I wanted to smuggle--I mean buy--a painting to brighten up the old studio."

"Get out of here," Jem said dispassionately. "You're not a part of this, anyway, ex-hunter."

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Ten years ago, Ken would never have palled around with someone like Jem. His jokes were just as rare then as they were now, but he reserved them for Niall. They would fall over laughing at the stiff delivery and the horrible punch lines. The bad jokes became their inside joke.

Ten years on, however, Ken had learned to work with those in all walks of life. That meant making nice with people like Jem. There was good and bad in everyone; Jem's prejudices didn't take away from the fact that he wanted to protect people from the horrors of the supernatural. Maybe his bedside manner needed work, but as a team leader he wasn't half bad.

It was just hard to justify the way that he spoke about Niall. So dismissive. As though Niall wasn't worth a grain of his time. Ken immediately bristled at his tone and his words but the shock of seeing Niall here had yet to wear off. As Niall sought to make a hasty retreat, he stood staring at him, trying to piece together the puzzle of the man before his eyes.

Ex-hunter, Jem said acidly. In their circles it was a mark of shame. As legacy hunters, even more so. The Gallagher family was perhaps the most well-known in Ireland. Even today, their legend lived on in the descendants of the first Gallaghers, who drove the werebeasts out of Ireland. Compared to them, Ken and even Jem's families were nothing. They were peasants. But it was Jem who held his head high now, and looked upon Niall with scorn and dark contempt.

Just like Niall's family. Like his uncompromising father and his stern brothers. Like Ken's own family, who bore his presence in silent shame and disappointment. After their affair was exposed, Ken sought to distance himself. He thought of it now with a lump in his throat still. He was young. Naive. The approval of his elders meant everything to him back then.

"...wait." He crossed the room in a few strides. "Your wrist." A good hunter noticed everything, after all. "You should--get that looked at."

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It was weird seeing Ken after all these years. Ten years was a long time to grow up and change. Ten years ago, now matter how weird Niall was, he wouldn't have been caught dead in makeup and tiny shirts. His father would have murdered him. Or at least punished him. His father's favorite punishment was to lock him in his spartan bedroom and tell him to pray for his damned soul. If he so much as moved an inch, it was like his father knew. So Niall would kneel there before his bed until his knees bruised and bled and he would plead with god to understand that he wasn't spitting in his face. He just...

"Why did you make me this way if it's a sin?" he cried out, gripping the sheets to lessen the pain in his knees. "Why? How is killing a part of your grand plan? You tell us not to kill people... why are we killing them? Why is it worse to love somebody? I don't understand. Give me a sign. Please, god. I need a sign. I need your mercy. I need..."

He needed something. He starved for love and affection. He yearned for it. His mother daren't show him much around others. His brothers distanced themselves. And after Lor died, there was nobody in the family he could consider an ally. So there was Ken.

Ken made everything sore better. When all Niall wanted to do was bawl his eyes out and claw out his hair and throw himself into the lake, Ken was there. They talked about it, about what happened to Lor. Ken didn't care if he let his grief show. He let him bare his soul. But it felt like a betrayal and a slap in the face when he turned away from him later, after they were caught.

That hurt. It hurt more than he could even express. And it hurt to see him now, all grown up and achingly handsome. What was that look in his eyes even about? He was Jem's pal now.

But he still broke away and noticed the wrist. It hurt like a bitch and it was turning a nasty purple color. The skin was puffing out. Definitely a break. He couldn't even really move the fingers anymore. Jem really did a number on him.

"The doctor's clinic is like two doors down. No big deal. I'll be fixed up in a jiffy." He whistled to emphasize the jiffy.

"Just let him go, Ken," Jem said. "He's not one of us anymore and he's cavorting with vampires now. He could take back whatever we say to them and warn them. Cain can go with him, if you're that worried."

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