The Lucky One

[Kenneth Branagh]

"You don't have to. I'll find out on my own." Ken didn't smirk--he wasn't the kind--but he smiled. That smile that Niall had to remember, the one which confidently set forth the fact that Ken was the immovable brick wall and Niall could protest all he liked, but words couldn't bring down that wall.

He, too, looked down at his hand. Once, he would have pulled it away like it burned. Now, it remained on Niall's knee. In fact, it slid up a little--not to indecent heights, but enough to bring home the message.

"Yes." Two sips in, Ken wasn't anywhere near sloshed. "It is."

[Niall Gallagher]

Niall was very quickly heading straight into the gutters. He could feel it, the warm embrace of alcohol and drugs. It was like a warm little hug around his race car brain, encasing it and cradling it and telling him everything was going to be okay. Normally, a third rum punch wouldn't pack so much of a, well, punch, but with the combination of too many pills taken at once, it was a heady mixture. His head was already starting to spin as he brought that third drink to his lips like a thirsty man in the desert.

He was trying to ignore the fact that Ken was so composed, with his hand directly on Niall's leg and inching higher. It didn't keep inching. It did stop and it wasn't anywhere near his upper thigh or anything. But it was there and it felt a lot more like a lover's caress than a grandpa telling him to buck up, junior.

It bugged him a little that Ken was confident in figuring out where he lived but realistically, it wasn't that hard to ask anybody in town where the town junkie stayed. Hell, the bartender knew. Everybody that knew him knew where he lived--some dive off Center street, downtown in one of the "historic" buildings that used to be a Sears department store but had been converted into cheap flats--apartments. The apartments were really just low income housing for people like him, though. They were two room affairs--a main room and a bathroom. Niall had various roommates over time. They shared his couch bed with him and they soon found out three things about Niall's sleeping habits: 1. he tended to cling to his sleeping partner, 2. he invariably ended up in a state of undress at some point in the night, and 3. he had night terrors. Needless to say, not many roommates stuck around that long.

Mostly because of the last one. The first two were kinda nice if one liked Niall enough, which most did. They came to stay overnight with him, after all.

"Yer doin' my 'ead in," he said, slurring the words together in a thick Irish brogue that made his words pretty much unintelligible. But he still slid his broken wrist over the hand on his leg and turned it over, palm to cast-palm. He was so out of it that he didn't hear the doors open or somebody in heavy boots step into the brewhouse. But he sure did hear him after he came up behind him and something cold and sharp pressed against the side of his throat.

"What are you doing with my brother?"

[Kenneth Branagh]

"You did that to yourself," Ken sighed, as his fingers twitched against Niall's cast. He didn't want to hold it and hurt Niall inadvertently, although the rum punch and those four inadvisable pills seemed to have taken the edge off of... Well, they took the edge off of his edges, Ken supposed.

Before anything more could be said, someone had stormed up and Ken was first on his feet, hand flying to the weapon in his belt. "Don't--" he began, staring down the stranger and intending to have him stop threatening Niall.

"Izzy no!" Cain was on his feet too, nearly upsetting his glass. He ran up and pulled down the hand with the weapon in it. "They're friends!"

"...aye, we're friends." After a tense moment, Ken let his hand fall. He held his palms up to show that he was unarmed--for now. "We were about to bring the lad back home. Just stopped in for a drink."

[Isaiah Plunkett]

EVERYWHERE.

Isaiah looked everywhere for his little brother when he woke to find him gone. The fact that he wasn't there and hadn't left a note (not one that Isaiah could find, anyway), left him a total and complete panic. Somebody had come for him in the night. Somebody had ripped him away, torn away his innocence, harmed him, used him. Somebody had him and they could be doing anything to him.

Cain wouldn't break, though. Not his Cain. Cain was too strong for that. He'd never let them leave him a sinner. Whatever those monsters did to him, they would find that Cain would go down innocent. Always.

Still, the pictures in his mind spurred him forward with shotgun and hunting knives in hand, ready to mow down anybody that got in his way. If it weren't for Kyle, he never even would have looked in here--in a brewhouse. His brother was in a brewhouse with two older men--one of whom was most definitely a sinner. How could he not be, with that mop of hair and those... those common street clothes? Isaiah wasn't one for fashion--he basically lived in overalls and plaid and work boots--but he sure as heck didn't think highly of a man in women's clothing.

Still, he reluctantly lowered his weapon at Cain's insistence, then cut his gaze to the blond man.

"You stopped in for a drink. With my underage brother?"

[Cain Plunkett]

Isaiah looked fit to kill and Cain felt so awful and so guilty. He clung to his brother's arm--afraid that he might assault Niall or Ken again--and put his own body in the way, just in case. Isaiah didn't kill without reason but that look in his eyes...

"It was soda!" He pointed to the fizzy orange drink in his glass. "They wouldn't let me have alcohol Izzy! They're--not bad people."

Behind him, he felt someone moving and he looked to see Ken stepping in between them too. It looked like he was trying to shield Niall, which Cain approved of. Niall needed a lot of help.

A LOT of help.

"No harm done," Ken said easily, but Cain knew the look of a fighting man and he saw it in Ken. "Lad's all right."

"I'm okay Izzy! Really!"

[Niall Gallagher]

His hand went to his throat. That could have been another ouchie. Why did everybody want to hurt him today? It was like he had a kick me sign on his back only instead of kick me, it said abuse me and everybody was happy to do it! Out of sheer lunacy, he reached for his back but there was nothing but that lacy, breezy blouse he'd put on that morning. Nothing tagged on the back of it. Slowly, he turned in his stool as the others talked, hearing somebody say something about how Cain shouldn't have gone out without saying anything and running off with strangers.

"Strangers," Niall drawled, with a flouncy wave of a hand with his pointer finger slightly up. (In his mind, it was all the way up and he was intelligently sitting up with his chin raised and an intelligent tone of voice...) "...are just friends you haven't made... yet."

And this was followed by a slight hiccup. Very masterful. Intelligent indeed.

Ooh. Wow. Cain's brother was actually pretty good looking. Niall turned his attention fully toward him and batted his eyelashes, leaning forward with a giggle as he reached out to run his good hand over his chest, not even caring that he was leaning against Ken to do it.

"You. Are so.... handsome." That last word came out low and husky and the bedroom eyes were out in full force. But if he expected Big Brother Izzy to like that, he was way sorely mistaken. He jolted away from Niall and brushed off his shirt like it had been tainted by his hand.

"I'm sure he's been fine with this pervert," Big Brother Izzy said. He pulled Cain toward him, not roughly or anything but definitely with some sort of... possession in his eyes. "Stay away from creeps like this, Cain. I've told you a thousand times, you don't know what's out here."

[Kenneth Branagh]

Slowly, deliberately, Ken pushed Niall's hand down. All the way down. So low down that he bent slightly at the waist to do it. No. Drunk or not, no. That was another no deal, thank you kindly, though who exactly set the terms of this new deal was up in the air.

But—no.

"He's just... tipsy," Cain whispered to his brother, after what seemed to Ken like a heart-felt apology for running off at the crack of dawn. He caught that much, and something about a message from "you know who." Ken had no interest in their private affairs; he barely knew them and even though Cain seemed innocent enough, he wasn't Ken's little brother.

Big brother Izzy seemed to be taking care of him just fine, although Ken had a suspicion that he wouldn't be sleeping soundly for a few nights. Best keep one eye open, if his precious kin was going to run off in the night. All manner of perverse creatures roamed these streets, and Ken didn't want to see someone like Cain run into one of them.

"You'd best take the lad home," he said as he caught a little smile from Cain. For what? Cain didn't appear to enjoy Niall pawing at his brother, but—had any of them, other than Niall? Whatever he felt about that, though, was now gone. He gave a little wave.

"C'mon Izzy. I got something for you from the art fair."

[Niall Gallagher]

His hand was lowered and he let it be lowered, although he stared after the Brother with a look of longing. So handsome. Or he could be an ogre and the drinks were drowning him in good-looking juice. Alcohol. God-sent, if there was such a thing as a god. If there was, though, Ken wouldn't be lowering his hand. Niall made a small noise in the back of his throat, both mournful and frustrated and then flopped against Ken in his ever-despair.

"That's exactly what I'm doing," said Brother Izzy as he protectively shielded his little brother from any more of the nasty hobo's antics. Niall made a face at him. Handsome or not, he wasn't worth getting too weird about. Handsome guys were a dime a dozen around here. And even when there weren't, handsome guys appeared in town out of nowhere. Like this one. The one he leaned against and then sighed against and then lowered his head and sort of just hung out there.

He waved lazily at the two as they made their retreat.

"See ya laterrrr, laddie, come back when you're old enough to drink!"

That probably earned him a glare but little brother was around and big brother seemed to really like little brother so nothing came of the glare.

"It's like me and Lorcan all over again," he sighed. Then he flopped himself back off Ken and stumbled onto his stool, nearly toppling over it in the process before catching himself on the counter. He threw both elbows onto it, crossed his legs and stared at Ken.

"I normally flirt with guys that look like you," he said, giving Ken a little whirly point with the good hand. He gave his leg a few shakes and tilted his head to the side. "But now... now I dunno what to do with yooou." Another little hiccup. He threw his head back and screwed his eyes shut. "Why are you even here?"

[Kenneth Branagh]

Ken didn't appreciate being used as a prop by a drunk, but he made exceptions for Niall. He made a lot of exceptions for Niall. Maybe one too many today, allowing him to take four pills, have three drinks and try to flirt with a man who clearly wanted him nowhere near himself or his little brother.

He watched Cain and his brother until they were gone out of the bar, and out the door. Cain seemed much more talkative; Ken saw his lips moving rapidly, probably recounting what happened to him. Maybe telling his brother about the shameful display of hand on knee that happened shortly before Izzy showed up.

Once the warmth left his back, Ken turned. He held out a hand to steady Niall but Niall managed that himself, so Ken resumed his seat and also his drink. For once, he felt like he needed it and took a long pull, especially once Lorcan was brought up. Ten years on, and Ken still didn't know what to say to a thing like that.

"Hm." Guys who looked like him? That seemed significant given that Ken hadn't changed too much in the time that they had been apart. Same white-blond hair, same serious eyes. A bit taller now, though, and a little more filled out, but he couldn't seem to put on the sheer muscle mass that other hunters could. He wasn't lanky and awkward anymore, though. More like athletic, slim and fast.

And maybe he wasn't the only one stuck in the past. Ken wasn't the type to love them and leave them. His feelings were real and they were serious. Although he'd had a handful of lovers since Niall vanished from his life, he couldn't quite seem to forget him altogether. If Niall was seeking out men who looked like him then perhaps... Just perhaps...

Or maybe he meant handsome in general. Or he was drunk as a skunk and talking nonsense. That could very likely be it too.

"According to the lad... I'm here to save your soul." His lips twisted into a little smile. "Hand it over, so I can clean it."

[Niall Gallagher]

One eye half opened to peer at Ken, then the other cracked open, too. Why. Was. He. Here. That was the biigggg QUESTION. Why was Ken in a little nowhere town all the way from the home of the hunter squad? Or was the whole squad here, was that the thing? Were they all having a swing at the mysticals that drifted around these parts? Ireland had a fair bit o' them; it made a great spot for hunting. But now this tiny, little nothing town was being absolutely bombarded with creatures.

Actually, it was a bit of a nest for them. Since Niall was no longer a hunter, he didn't care. He liked it. Maybe it even attracted him here, made him stay here, knowing a place for longer than a couple of weeks, knowing people, knowing where to score the good stuff, where to get the cheap drinks, and where to lose himself in happy... happy... happy.

The thought of having his soul scrubbed clean. Being saved. He let out a throaty laugh and leaned his head slightly back up, regarding Ken and his surprisingly devil-may-care smile. For somebody that could have been sent from heaven above, Ken could be a right demon sometimes.

"Oh, but it's a very filthy soul," Niall said in that same husky tone he used earlier. It was the kind of tone he used when he was about to pounce on somebody or when somebody was crawling over him and his arms were winding around the back of their neck to draw them closer. And then he sprang up to a sitting position, both hands on the seat of his stool as he swung his legs under the barstool. He swayed slightly, head swimming, but he smiled, serene as a newborn in his mother's arms.

"It's alright, though, Kenny. There's no more pressure when you're stained like me. Nobody expects anything from this weirdo!" He laughed, genuinely joyful that nobody wanted him to do anything anymore. No more training, no more killing, no more obedience. Just... Niall being Niall.

"And that leaves me free to do... whatever... I... want." He stood on wobbly feet, swaying back and forth in a blissful dance. "I can dance and I can siiiing~! I can be a god-damned Disney princess. Look what I'm wearing!" He shrugged the shoulders off his blouse and let it float gracefully to the floor before he clumsily kicked it aside. "And I," he said, leaning forward, close, so close to Ken that their noses just grazed each other. "Can kiss boys if I like."

Niall's eyes lit up. But he backed away at the last moment, hands behind his back like an impish child.

"Don't you see? I don't want to be saved. I don't need to be saved." 

[Kenneth Branagh]

While Niall seeemed to be under the thrall of some inner demon that spurred him on to frantic action, shifting constantly in his seat as though he wanted to crawl right out of his own skin, Ken sat still. He sat primly and with good posture, drink in hand, looking as calm as the day that he was born.

For as long as he could remember, Ken was 'the good child.' Perhaps if he'd been more of a rebel, if he hadn't subscribed whole-heartedly to his parents' rules and way of life, then letting them down by being homosexual wouldn't have ended the way it did. It wasn't in him, though. In that respect he was like Lorcan—he wasn't timid or shy, but he was quiet and obedient.

Meeting Niall for the first time was a real eye-opener for Ken. They moved into Niall's town so as to better access hunter resources, as Niall's family was an old legacy hunting family and a group had formed around them. Ken remembered being introduced to all the boys, but Niall being the only one who smiled—beamed—at him in that good-natured way of his. It was instant connection. Back then, he was too young to fall in love, but he felt something different towards Niall than he did towards Lorcan or Daniel.

Their friendship was pure. Somewhere along the way, deeper feelings stirred but always, their friendship remained strong. Even after they kissed, after they realized their mutual attraction, Ken always thought that they would stay friends forever. In his heart of hearts, through all these years, he still thought of Niall as his first and best friend. He held on to that when things seemed bleak, and in his darkest moments, to the memories of something pure and innocent.

There was a lot of bad in the world. Maybe more bad than the good that he believed in. Someone had to be here to save the rest of humanity; it may as well be them, the hunters who had armed themselves with more than knowledge. More than guns and knives, but rather, a sense of purpose. There was nothing more important than purpose to a man's life. It kept him going, kept him living.

Niall had lost that, Ken could see it plainly. He saw calmly through Niall's display—it seemed put on, a performance. Even the sultry tone came across artificial. Ken knew seduction; this wasn't it. Niall could be an attractive man but this cheap, tawdry. over-dramatic monologue left something to be desired.

Even when he came so close to Ken that they could have kissed, and Ken saw past the drunkenness and the lined makeup and the giddy high of those four pills to the unhappiness inside, he sat as though they were conversing about the weather. His heart beat faster, true, but he wasn't leaping onto a drunk man. He wasn't having a rational discussion with a man who was so plastered that he gave wallpaper a run for their money.

"Then maybe it's the other way around," Ken said at last. "Maybe I need to save you." Slowly, deliberately, he set down his mug and then rose. He side-stepped that gaudy, gauzy shirt that had floated away and he slid his hands over Niall's shoulders. Pulled him in. Lowered his head as his arms tightened around Niall's shoulders and, for the first time that day, let his calm expression fall. Maybe it was a good thing that Niall couldn't see him just then.

"Stop."

[Niall Gallagher]

He didn't need saving. Nope. Niall was just fine. He was a fully functioning A.D.U.L.T. He could do as he pleased and who didn't want that? Who didn't dream of that as kids when they were under the thumb of their parents and the church and the organizations that ran around killing monsters? Who didn't? So the way Niall saw it, he was living the damn dream. He broke away, he left. Really, he was chased off. Nobody wanted to look at his mug anymore and he couldn't handle the way they all looked at him.

"You killed him."

"No! No, no I--I didn't--I-I-tried to--I tried..."

His pitiful cries were nothing to the ears of Junior, who stared him down like Niall was the monster. As if he'd actually been the one to pierce his little brother's heart and torture him. As if he'd used his own hands to do it. Junior stepped over the useless crossbow on the ground, sweeping it across the dusty leaves and he reached out and grabbed Niall by the front of his shirt, livid.

They all loved Lorcan. They all wanted to protect him. Lorcan, Lorcan, the baby of the family, with his inquisitive little lamb eyes and his spindly legs and his need to do everything and prove he was a part of the Gallagher clan.

"You fucking killed him, Niall! You and your fucking need to be fucking different!" Junior spat the words in his face, shaking with rage.

"No," Niall said weakly, trying to take a step backward. Ken was coming at him with that Face and those Eyes and those Arms and Niall knew exactly what he was going to do and he didn't want it. He couldn't handle it right now. He was fragile, standing on the ledge with old, unwanted memories bombarding him every time he looked at Ken, every time Ken spoke. Why couldn't he just be silly with him? Why couldn't he just down a couple of drinks, start singing too loudly with the jukebox, and joke about the stupid shit they did when they were kids? Why did he have to come here with soft eyes and sear straight through to his vulnerabilities?

"I didn't kill him, Ken," he cried as he looked up from the grave. It was cruel that the sun was shining and the birds were chirping and the grass in this dead place was so, so green. Inside, it was raining, it was soaking him in Lorcan's blood. He couldn't get the feeling off his skin, it crept into every pore and seeped into his bones. He held himself and rocked back and forth.

"Don't."

But the arms were already around him and he melted into Ken's embrace. He squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his face down against his shoulder, willing the hurt to go back where it came from. He wasn't supposed to feel pain right now, not with all those painkillers. But his heart ached so much and all it took was one hug.

Niall couldn't even remember the last time anybody had held him close without darker intentions and it was bringing something out of him. He didn't want to. He didn't want it. But if he didn't want it, if he didn't need it, then why was he wrapping his arms tenderly around Ken's back and biting back emotion?

"You can't," he said softly into Ken's shoulder, face probably ugly-stained with makeup. "You shouldn't...."

[Kenneth Branagh]

Who was Niall carrying on the charade for?

Himself? Other people? The ones who shunned him and abandoned him when he needed them the most?

That included Ken, though. Ken who turned away when they were caught. Who pretended that they weren't what they were, that the secret smiles and kisses and touches meant nothing.

And now, he had come full circle again but he wasn't hiding anymore. He didn't have to hide anymore because--he was an adult. And adults had to live with their mistakes, with the pain, the searing memories, the loss and guilt. Somehow, life still marched on--for Ken, for the people around him--but it had frozen with Niall.

"I'm an adult," he said quietly into Niall's shoulder. Ken knew that he didn't deserve it, but he was glad that Niall hugged him back, that he could still somehow find it in him to do it. He held him closer,  tighter, feeling almost overwhelmed by his own emotions and the distance that he felt between them.

"I do what I want."

If he wanted to hug Niall in the midst of a crowded bar, then he could. He was. It felt good and it felt right. It felt like the thing to do--that he should have done a long time ago.

[Niall Gallagher]

A sound between a laugh and a sob escaped him at Ken's witty retort. I'm an adult. It was true. Ken was an adult, too. Arguably, he was kinda more of an adult than Niall, with his clean shaven face, his tidy and respectable clothes, and a real job. It felt so strange, seeing him so much of a man and not the teenager that Niall last saw. I do what I want. A hiccupy laugh and he pressed his face into Ken's shoulder, eyes tightly closed as if that was all it took to stop waves of emotion from overcoming him.

He was so overwhelmed by just the most basic act of affection. Nobody hugged Niall. People held Niall in headlocks, wrapped their arms around his shoulders and steered him to back alleys, and obliged him when he said "fuck me". People didn't seem overly hostile here when they saw his clothing and his makeup. They thought he was an odd duck but he was just another odd duck in a whole lake of them, so it was okay. He almost blended in here, with his eccentricities.

But people didn't get very close to him and in all honesty, Niall didn't get very close to other people. He acted like he was close, with all the touching and the sweet words and the clinging behavior, and the neediness. In reality, inside, he was hollow. No, no. He wasn't hollow. That might have been easier to deal with. Hollow was what he strove for. Inside, he was broken. There were scars where he'd left Lorcan and when he'd lost Ken.

Because Ken was his best friend. Ken knew everything that Niall's little heart contained because he told him every single thing. Every silly thought, every crazy dream, every new idea--Ken knew because Niall loved him dearly, first as a friend and then as a lover. He could have lived on in Ireland if he still had Ken, that was the kicker. But he just had to be stupid and play with fire and get them caught and suddenly, Ken was not his lover nor his friend. It was the killing blow to a shitty year and Niall couldn't be there anymore. It was bad enough that there was no Lorcan at the dinner table grinning at him as he showed him his skilled shot with a gun or hiding under Niall's bed to whisper after lights out. It was made worse that Ken was there, within sight and he couldn't touch him. He couldn't even talk to him.

What was he supposed to do after that? He told Ken he needed him but Ken could do without him. It stared him in the face even now as he squeezed out long held tears, trying his best not to choke on them, to not start ugly-crying all over Ken's nice white clothes. He came back so strong and independent and capable--proof that he didn't need another person to hold him up. But Niall didn't fare so well, did he?

Willing himself to calm down, to slow his breathing and push back the swelling emotions, he finally lifted his head and swiped at his eyes, probably looking a right mess. He let out one of those shuddery little sighs that only came after bawling one's eyes out and he couldn't even look at Ken as he turned his gaze away and downward. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a pathetic single key painted with gaudy pink tiger stripes and he pressed it against Ken's palm.

"...just take me home. It's off Center street, place called Cyprus Oaks. 3-B." What a fancy name. Too bad most locals called it 'Coke Oaks' instead.

[Kenneth Branagh]

Ken could be funny. He had a wicked sense of humor--an irreverent one--that hardly anybody but Niall ever saw. In front of the other hunters, Ken was the respectful, hard-working, honest young lad. In front of Niall, he cracked bad jokes and threw popcorn in the air, only to have them repeatedly hit him in the eye or on the nose. He snuck out in the dead of night and dove into the creek half-naked.

He even ate an earthworm, on a dare, and he hated it.

But after they were discovered, it seemed like the world fell apart. Ken's parents stopped speaking to him. When they needed to address him--usually in public--they kept to the bare minimum of words. Whispers started to go around; eyes that once looked upon him with admiration now sent glares of suspicion his way. There was barely veiled ridicule from those who knew and soon, even though no one knew for sure that he was Niall's lover, everyone knew that he was Niall's lover. He was the one caught in the act with him in the back woods, hands on each other, kisses melting into kisses, repressed groans and sighs heating up the night air.

Ken buckled under all of it. At first, he only wanted to distance himself until the heat died down. But every night, he dreamed of him. When they ran into each other, he wanted to throw himself at him and hug him and reclaim the happiness that once enveloped them. When things not only didn't get better, but got even worse, he pulled further away and soon, Niall was gone. Just like that, gone. Ken heard rumors of Italy, Spain, Canada, America. He tried to find Niall in secret but his roots were in Ireland and he wasn't brave enough to fly the nest.

But now, here he was. Listening to Niall's hiccuping laugh. Watching him smear eyeliner all over the side of his face, making the mask seem even more grotesque. And yet, Ken still found him endearing. His funny, exuberant best friend, who was once so full of the joys of life. No joy left in those eyes now, though. Nothing but tears and regret and pain.

Ken accepted the key and tucked it into his pocket. It would take more than his two hands to wipe away all the tears, so he didn't try to. Instead, he pulled back and stooped to pick up the discarded shirt, then reached out to take Niall's good hand. "Come on." The patrons in the bar looked at them on the way out and Ken just held his head high, looking straight ahead. It wasn't until he was outside that he spoke again.

"...you know I only came into town today, don't you? I don't know where you live." If anyone was taking anyone home, it would have to be Niall. Ken supposed that he could have called for a taxi, but he thought that a walk would help calm Niall down, so he started off in an arbitrary direction.