The Lucky One

[Niall Gallagher]

"I actually heard him," Niall said to Cain. "I just wanted to hear him say it again."

It didn't look like that was happening, though. Niall didn't know what to make of Ken's arrival here or why he came to the clinic or cared that his wrist was broken or why he was still touching him. Because he was--still touching him, that is. He hadn't moved his hand away and Niall couldn't tell if he was broken or if he didn't know what else to do with the hand or if he was waiting for something from Niall.

It didn't seem like it; he was staring awfully hard at Cain and Cain was staring at him back and they were like... Niall didn't know. Maybe they were communicating through brain waves or their eyes or something that Niall couldn't see without his special eyes. Which was kind of a lie, anyway because Niall did have special eyes. His father actually slapped him when he saw it, Niall had no idea why. "Don't ever do that again!"

Niall didn't even know what he'd done until Daniel told him. It wasn't something he controlled, though, so if there was anything they were seeing that he couldn't see, he couldn't force himself to see it.

Best friends, huh. Ken said were, but that made sense. How many years had it been now? Niall wasn't good at holding grudges so he sighed and sort of deflated any resentment that might have been shielding him. He slid his arm around both Ken's and Cain's shoulders, slotting himself right between them.

"I don't know about you guys but I could use a drink!" He eyed Cain. "How old are you again?"

[Kenneth Branagh]

"Oh, sorry." Looking chastised, Cain ducked his head and appeared embarrassed, which was more emotion than Ken had seen on his face to date. Quiet lad. Very withdrawn, but not sullen. Not unfriendly. It was like he was so sheltered that he didn't know what to do or say or how to act. Like he was waiting for someone to come along and tell him to smile, or not smile, or to say this or that.

Ken was a little leery of spilling his private thoughts in front of such an innocent child, however. He knew he had a lot to answer for, and that Niall's hostility wasn't unfounded. He thought about their affair once in a while, with mingled fondness and regret. But they were children, too, back then, with the weight of the world on their shoulders, and mistakes were apt to be made. Even as an adult, Ken made mistakes. Only now, he could make up for them and apologize where apologies were owed.

To his surprise, Niall's attitude changed on a dime. Suddenly he was between them, arms around their shoulders. Was that advisable, with his wrist in a makeshift cast? What prompted this about-face? Niall was moving too quickly, Ken found, but it was better than bitter words and sarcasm, he supposed. Ken frowned at the wrist in the meantime, but Cain sounded worried when he spoke.

"I don't think... Izzy wouldn't want me to..."

"How old are you, lad?" Ken asked, curious himself.

"...sixteen..."

He looked at Niall with raised brows. "He's having a glass of soda."

[Niall Gallagher]

Oh, the wrist was fine. The cast, it was doing its job by keeping his wrist nice and straight, so he wasn't too worried about it. Besides, it was just the wrist (which still hurt like a raging bitch, by the way) and he could safely move his elbows around just fine. He could tell Ken didn't approve of him moving it around willy-nilly by that frown at it but he was fiiiinnne, really he was fine. He just played it up for the doctors so he could get the good drugs. Which... by the way. He reached into his back pocket and handed the orange bottle over to Cain--not really trusting Ken to do it.

"Hey, be a friend and open this for me, will you? It's going to make me feel better."

He paused while he waited, eyes on that pill bottle with eager anticipation.

"By the way, who's Izzy? ALSO, come on, Ken." He swung his gaze toward Ken with a dramatic pout. "Let the kid live a little."

Then it was back to looking at Cain. Such an innocent lad. Niall smiled at him, lifting his hand slightly to ruffle his blond hair a little, lucky his bad wrist was on Ken's side.

"I was around your age when I tried alcohol the first time. Actually, no, I wasn't. I was thirteen. But you know what, in Ireland, you're just a weeeeee coupla years away from the legal drinking age. And I bet you won't try absinthe your first time 'cause I won't let you 'cause that's what I tried and I was soooooo drunk. Oh, Lordy, I was drunk as a skunk. Though I've heard the absinthe here in the states is nothin' compared to what we've got in the UK. What do you want to try? My personal favorite is rum punch but I'll drink pretty much anything straight out the bottle."

He swung his attention back to Ken.

"What about you? Absinthe?" He leaned in, voice low and husky. "We really danced with the fairy that night, didn't we?"

[Kenneth Branagh]

Ken would have read the dosage instructions twice over, and then given Niall only half the dose. Yes, he was that kind of person. The cautious kind, the one who believed in prudence and taking things slow, so as to minimize risk. That was how he managed to survive all these years as a hunter--it made him a good hunter, too.

Out here on the streets, maybe that wasn't such a necessary character trait. Still, he frowned at the bottle as he watched Cain measuring out two tablets and handing them to Niall. Niall who was urging a young, innocent lad to drink liquor and taking him down the path of unbridled alcoholism by glorifying its effects and recounting his own experiences with it.

All right, all right, not so dramatic as all that. But it didn't sit right with him that Niall was telling a sixteen year-old to drink.

"Izzy's my brother." Cain looked doubtful. He looked up at Ken as though Ken might give him permission to drink, in the place of his brother Izzy, and Ken just shook his head sternly. While he and Niall had experimented with alcohol--and drugs, yes--back in their youth, he didn't want that for Cain. He wouldn't want that for his own younger brother either, if he'd had one.

But. Hm. Absinthe. Ken didn't like what that voice was doing near his ear, either--not out here in the streets, at any rate. "We did more than dance," he muttered to Niall in a voice so low that he wondered if Niall could hear it. Why? God only knew. Because Niall had that effect on people when he smiled in their direction and slipped his arm around them and pulled them in. Ken had no defense against that and he thought that it was a dirty trick altogether.

"What?" Cain's curiosity seemed to get the better of him. "What fairy? Was it an Unclean?"

Ken cleared his throat and shot Niall a Look. "No lad. It's... a figure of speech. Never you mind. You'll have a soda, and then we're taking you home to your brother."

[Niall Gallagher]

"No, no." He curled his hand around the two pills given to him and then grasped the now opened bottle with his fingers. Peering inside, he saw a nice, good number of pills. They wouldn't last him that long but long enough for the next big fix. Fingering two more pills out, he stuck all four into his mouth at once. Water sure would've been helpful right now. He glanced around and as they passed a girl with a water bottle, he reached over Cain and took it.

"Sorry," he said through a cheek full of painkillers. He gave her his most sad, pitiful puppy stare. "I need it more than you do. My wrist, it's killing me."

The girl gave him the stink eye but continued on her little jog while Niall stopped to down the pills with several swallows of water.

"AHHHHHHHH!" He handed the pill bottle back to Cain so he could twist the cap back on for him. "I'm feeling better already."

Then it registered that Izzy was the brother. Ah, the older brother, then? Cain seemed so small and mousy, he had to be the youngest. He was so smol and tiny and needed protection. Niall whispered the word brother to himself. Brothers were nice things to have, really. Sometimes. Cain seemed fond of his, although it sounded like Mr. Izzy was a stick in the mud. No, no, he wasn't. Would Niall have snuck off to have a drink with Lorcan? Probably not. Because he still wanted to protect innocence. Mr. Izzy might, too.

"Yeah," he said, his voice and his gaze far, far away, in the middle of the forests of Ireland, on a hill in the moonlight with a big ass bottle of absinthe and a grandiose sense of adventure. "You try first. No wait, I'll try first!" That bottle was so gone by the end of the night and so were their inhibitions. How did they even get into the lake without drowning? Their words slurred together and half of what was spoken was indeterminable. But the touches weren't. The kisses weren't. It was the first time he kissed a boy for real, that wasn't just some stolen peck behind church.

"I know."

He was still somewhere in magical Ireland with the green fairy when Cain spoke. Niall squeezed the now empty bottle of water flat and tried to toss it into the next closest bin. It missed by a mile.

"What about something light, though? Don't religious kids drink wine?"

[Kenneth Branagh]

"The sacramental wine! I had it once... It tasted nice. Like grape juice." Cain's smile was pure innocence and Ken wanted to pat his head and ruffle his hair. And tell him--still, no. Soda, then straight home. Maybe a prayer before bed, too, to erase the terrible ideas that Niall was instilling into his guileless young mind.

Although, the ideas running across his mind weren't so pure either. He remembered that night clearly, as he remembered all of their other nights together. He still had no idea where Niall got that bottle, but he suspected that it had come with the ten-finger discount. They had downed half the bottle before they realized that they were drunk, and then it was too late to do anything about it. Thinking back on it now, they could have drowned!

More heady than the absinthe, though, was Niall. Ken remembered the touches and the kisses, too. The fumbling, the drunken giggling, hands going where hands had never dared to go before. He let Niall lead the kisses because he was inexperienced and, even then, afraid. When he hit the ice-cold water, he came back to his senses a little, but even that wasn't enough to stop him.

Niall had that way about him. Some days, Ken wondered if he wasn't some sort of incubus himself, the way that he stole all of Ken's attention. He could have sat and read the bible from cover to cover, and Ken would have watched him with bated breath, awaiting each blink of the lashes and every turn of the page.

Ah. But now wasn't the time nor the place for reminiscing. "Soda," he said, realizing that his response was belated. "Soda. Then straight home. And you." He turned to Niall with a Stern Look. "You'll not give the lad ideas." If someone was trying to do this to Lorcan, the Niall that he used to know would have had none of it.

"And we're going to have a chat about those pills later, too," he added in the same low undertone, as he deftly took command of the bottle and put it away in his pocket.

[Niall Gallagher]

Personally, Niall didn't count that blood of christ wine stuff as his first alcoholic drink. One, it was wine. That did nothing for Niall. Also, their church served the cheapest and weakest kind ever. Oh, and they only got one sip out of the special cup. What was it called again? Cradle? No... Manger? That was the thing baby Jesus was born in. Oh, right! The grail. Or was that something else? Never mind, whatever they called it, it was weak wine and a sip wasn't enough to make a person even TIPSY, let alone dead drunk.

The absinthe, though... Wow. Niall didn't touch it for years after. He and Ken were sick as dogs afterward and everybody just thought they caught some flu going around the town at the time. God, it was fun at the time, though. When they were drinking. They were so tipsy and giggly and even though they were definitely doing something naughty, they were so... innocent.

"OKAAAY," Niall said with an overdramatic sigh and a roll of the eyes. "SODA, then."

But that didn't stop him from turning to Cain and winking at him. Soda with a tiny bit of whatever Niall was having. Why not? It wouldn't get the boy drunk and he could have a taste of the big boy drinks. Why was Ken being such a stick in the mud, anyway? They were younger than Cain when they got drunk. Niall wondered if Lorcan ever got drunk. If he did, then Niall didn't know about it because he wasn't a part of it. That struck him as sad and maybe that was why he wanted Cain to have a chance at it. Lorcan, did he ever get a chance to even get tipsy? Drunk? Did he ever get to fall in love? If Lorcan told him everything--and it seemed like he did--then... no. No. Lorcan never got to really live.

Because he was too busy having to learn how to be a good little soldier for old Pop. And Lorcan was shy, painfully shy. He hated ruffling feathers. He did what he was told but he loved Niall, following him like a little lost duckling. They were five years apart and Niall could swear he remembered the day Lorcan was born. So tiny. The way he held onto his finger made him feel big and important in a way he never felt before.

He cried so hard when he died. He didn't think he would ever stop. After the funeral, when Lorcan was covered in dirt and grass, Niall came back and he wanted to bury himself alive just to be there with him. Did he feel all alone? The pain tore through him like a physical talon pouring everything inside of him out into the world. Ken found him there, just... lying there on that grave like he could just... osmosis his way inside and never come back. The last time he saw Lorcan's face, it was waxy and serene and fake. And before that, it was glass-eyed and horrified. His family blamed him but nobody blamed him more than Niall himself. Nobody hated Niall more than Niall did.

"Ahh!" he gasped when he saw the pill bottle exchange hands from the reliable one to the one that would probably deny him even one if he begged on his knees for it. Niall tried to grab for it but it was a less than graceful movement in the cast and on top of that, it made his wrist hurt. He said he felt better already when he downed the pills but honestly, it would take another fifteen or so minutes before they actually kicked in.

"You can't do this to me! They were prescribed to me for a very real injury!" He thrust his arm up so that his wrist was in Ken's face. "It really hurts!" He leaned against him oh-so-pathetically, knocking the wrist ineffectually against Ken's chest. Despite the dramatics of his actions, his softened tone revealed naked vulnerability. "...it hurts, Ken."

[Kenneth Branagh]

Niall could grouse and grouch and complain all he liked, Ken was holding fast to his principles. He didn't mind if he was called cruel and no-fun and a downer, as the kids said these days. He knew that what he did was the Right Thing--capitals included. Besides, four pills was far too much for anyone.

Still, his expression softened with Niall's voice and he gently touched the hand that rested against his chest, painfully aware of the cast and the injured wrist underneath. His fingers curled around Niall's briefly but he didn't dare apply too much pressure, for fear of tweaking the wrist, too.

"I'll say a prayer to God for you! To take away the pain!" Cain piped up suddenly, looking resolute and sure of himself.

Ken smiled. "Aye. And I will too." He glanced out of the corner of his eyes at Niall and the smile persisted. "That's two prayers, all for you."

[Niall Gallagher]

"I told you I don't even believe in god!" Niall protested in exasperation. The kid was determined to save his soul, wasn't he? He was like one of those annoying Jehovah's Witnesses except he seemed a lot more genuine. Or maybe brainwashed. He was still young enough to believe in magic sky-daddies, poor thing. Niall wondered if god ever did anything for the kid, if there was some kind of miracle that kept him believing. Or if it was his family. The brother was being gifted a cross, so... probably. They were probably just like the Gallaghers.

Hey. Even hunters? The kid was in with Jem and his hunters, he was familiar with them! Huh. Small world.

Niall looked over at Ken to protest to him, too, the finger of the hand over Cain's shoulder pointing in his direction. But gee golly, he forgot how handsome Ken could be when he smiled. And now he was like... ten times more handsome. He looked so good. Clean, professional. He probably thought Niall looked like a stinking hobo straight off the streets. Suddenly, his hastily pulled together wardrobe felt like it wasn't enough. And the kohl was probably smudged to hell and back.

He pressed forward.

"Drinks, drinks, drinks. Drinks are my prayers." He led them straight to one of his favorite brewhouses--okay, ONLY brewhouse--on the main strip of the area. They were the kind of place everyone in town went to for dinner but there was a bar in the back for the rowdy old drunks.

As they approached the door, he let go of the two of them and pulled the twin doors open dramatically.

"I've arrived~!" he sang before hop-skipping toward the bar and placing his hands on the counter--one noticeably more gingerly than the other. "My friends and I would like your rum punch! I have to show it to my..."

He looked over his shoulder at Ken with a curve of a half smile.

"... dear cousin from out of town!" He turned back to the bartender. "All he knows is that swill we make in the ole' motherland and you know how shite that is."

[Kenneth Branagh]

"You don't have to," Ken and Cain said at nearly the same time, then smiled at each other. Prayers worked whether or not the one on the receiving end of those well-wishes believed in them. That was how faith worked, in Ken's opinion--the believers and non-believers had equal rights to forgiveness.

Despite the faith that tore his family apart--not to mention himself and Niall--Ken still believed. He believed in Good. He believed in doing good, too, and he accepted that while his sexuality put him at odds with certain teachings in the Bible, that it wasn't his father's or Jem's or anyone's place to judge him. Only God had that right and until the day that Ken met Him, he would do as he saw fit.

But that took the better part of ten years to figure out, and Ken still hadn't worked all of it out. He was still learning things about himself, but that was probably better than stagnating. It was better than hating, the way that Jem seemed to hate. Personally, Ken thought that there was much more to life than one set of rigid world views.

He sighed at Niall's chant and he sighed when Niall rushed over to the bar like salvation was just a pint away. "Ah now, don't push it," he said in exasperation as he slid into the bar stool beside Niall, while Cain hopped onto the one on his other side. "The lad will have a soda," he said immediately to the bartender, who grunted and turned to prepare their drinks.

Ken looked around first, to make sure that no obvious supernaturals were in the vicinity. Once he was satisfied that they were in no immediate danger, he relaxed and turned back to Niall. "I need a favor, Niall. I'll be in town for about a month, and Jem suggested that I... live with you while I'm here."

[Niall Gallagher]

Owwie. Opening those doors with his usual Niall flourish hurt his wrist. Stupid Jem. He looked down at the offending wrist, willing the pills to begin their beautiful magic. Also--was Cain a little Ken? Because that was what it was starting to feel like. Maybe that was the real reason Niall was drawn to protect him. Hah! But that was... weird and creepy. They did both have that nice blond hair, though. Maybe he was protecting the past when he protected Cain. He still felt like a moron for standing up to somebody that wasn't even there to do anything to Cain. Really, he was upset with himself because it was his own fault his wrist was broken and he didn't want to admit it.

"Rum punch, rum punch, rum punch," he chanted happily as he bounced in his stool. Oh yeah, the meds were starting to trickle into his system now. He could feel it, that little tingle in the back of his head, that euphoric feeling of nothing being wrong. Plus, the rum punch was coming and oh, he loved it so. He had a sweet tooth but the rum part packed the punch he wanted so badly after running into the Past in its many forms. Like a kid, Jem, Ken. Gee, it was like being back at the ol' homestead again!

He rested his chin in his hand and watched the bartender make their drinks with stars in his eyes. Favors, huh? He side-eyed Ken. If the pills weren't working their way through his system and he wasn't sitting at a bar anticipating some alcohol, he might have been insulted. Ken only wanted to chat with him because Jem told him to stay with him? Ugh. He should have known things were too good to be true. But the ugh didn't last that long. He slid his arms over the counter in front of him, chin plopping on the counter.

He made weak grabby hands for the drinks that were taking too long. He didn't want to think about Ken using him. It hurt his heart too much and he didn't know how to deal with it anymore.

"Oh alriiiiiight," he said. "You can share my humble hovel with me. But you're not allowed to mom me." He kicked his legs out and met the lower half of the bar with a squeak of his sneakers. "I am an adult," he informed Ken quite Seriously. "Deal?"

[Kenneth Branagh]

Ken failed to mention that he could just as easily room at a hotel because he assumed that Niall would say no if he didn't like the idea. Niall wasn't shy about voicing his opinions, that was blatantly obvious. But part of him wanted to reconnect and thought that if he didn't offer up the option... then maybe it wouldn't be taken up. For a few seconds, he thought that Niall was going to refuse and his own heart sank.

What? Yes? After that look--the kind of look that reminded Ken of a broken puppy? He took his time in responding, somewhat unsure now. Was Niall only saying yes because he felt obligated to? He wasn't--Ken didn't have to live with him. He didn't want to use Niall in the first place, but having established himself as Niall's cousin, it made sense to live together.

"..no," he said at last. "No deal." Ken turned to accept his rum punch and took a sip. Yes, he struck up the deal and brought forth the idea, but... no. He was not going to 'let things slide' and he wasn't turning a blind eye to Niall's problem behaviors. Like the pills. And the drinking.

"...but you asked him first," Cain said, puzzled, with the fizzy drink in his hands.

"Hush lad."

[Niall Gallagher]

No?

Niall blinked owlishly in surprise. But... Ken was the one that asked him! He slid back as his drink arrived and he eagerly pulled it close. Even the smell of it made him happier. Ignoring what had just happened for one moment, he drained half the pint in a few seconds. Ahhhhh, that's what he needed on top of the pills. Actually, he wasn't supposed to mix alcohol and pills but shhhh. If Ken didn't realize that, Niall was not going to be the one to tell him.

"Uh, yeah," Niall said, now definitely insulted as he righted himself and looked Ken in the eyes. "You asked. What, you can't handle me being an adult?"

He paid for that ugly hovel! With what, Ken didn't want to know. And you know, adults had the right to leave the house at weird hours and come back at weird hours. And drink. And take drugs. And go see vampires. And succubi. Or incubi. Whichever. Niall wasn't picky. Whatever would have him. Niall was being charitable, letting Ken stay with him and Ken was spitting in his eye. Jerk. Meanie. Whatever. Niall turned away and finished off the pint, smacked the counter, and cried out, "Another, sir!"

This was better, anyway. Ken didn't need to see the way Niall really lived.

[Kenneth Branagh]

"I can handle you being an adult." Ken swirled the drink; it wasn't half bad, but he preferred the 'shite' from back home more, he had to admit. But if Niall thought that this... this kind of excess was adulting, then he had his definitions all mixed up.

"I want to stay with you," he explained, all the while trying to choose words suitable for the ears of an innocent young lad. "But I won't let you adult yourself into an early grave."

Something wasn't right here and Ken didn't have to be an observant hunter to notice it. Niall wasn't Niall. The time that they had been apart had warped him and changed him into someone that Ken barely recognized and he didn't like it. Not one bit.

Slowly, he turned to Niall. Laid a pleading hand on his knee, the most delicate of touches. His eyes were sincere, and his tone, though low, was no less so. "Even if I stay at a hotel... it's still no deal." No deal to letting Niall destroy himself with painkillers and blasphemy.

[Niall Gallagher]

Oh, could he now? Because it seemed like the opposite to Niall! Ken couldn't handle him no longer being a teenager that had to answer to family. ...which was never the case, anyway. Niall listened to them insofar as he had to but behind their backs, he was out there doing what he really wanted to, like getting drunk on absinthe with his best friend and hanging upside down from trees and leaping in ball form into the cold lake only to come spluttering up and screaming that it was f-f-f-freezing! and his balls were going to come right off!

That wasn't it, though. Ken wanted to stay, or so he said but he wasn't going to make that deal with Niall. He was going to be mom, whether he was in a hotel or in Niall's hovel--excuse me, flat. Apartment. Whatever. That meant no pills. That meant lecturing him on too many drinks--oh look, the second pint had arrived. Niall drank it like it was water--gulp, gulp, gulp. He could already feel the rum getting to him. Or maybe it was the pills.

"Nother!" he called out, delicately placing a wrist against his lips as he suppressed a burp. Oh, he was getting so scuttered today. No getting around it. All of this--the kid reminding him of Lorcan, Jem showing up and breaking his wrist, and Ken. Just. Ken. He couldn't deal with it sober.

"Yeah, well," he said with a smirky smirk, "to do that, you'd have to know where I live and I for one, am not telling you where that is now. How about that?" He tilted his head, then glanced downward. "Is that your hand on my leg?"