avatar_Niall Gallagher

I can't feel a thing

Started by Niall Gallagher, Mar 22, 2019, 08:28 AM

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Slipping out alone was becoming increasingly more difficult with Ken around but the withdrawals were too much to bear. He pretended things were okay but the minute Ken left him alone, he was running straight back to chemicals. The worst part was the withdrawals from prystal and from the sex demons. Ken didn't want to have sex with him at all and beyond innocent touching, there was nothing. Nothing!

So when Ken left for a meeting with his hunting pals (and JEM--he spat the name even in his mind), Niall decided it was time to skip the apartment and go find something sweet to gel over the pains and sickness that had been overtaking him for days. They said it took like... he couldn't remember how many days. Like a month? To kick a habit. But Niall felt like it was taking too long. Why didn't Ken realize this?

Why didn't he see that his skin was crawling and that he couldn't sit still? He was biting his nails, the skin around his nails, he was pulling at his hair, he was fidgeting, fidgeting, fidgeting. God, he couldn't sit still for a moment. It really felt like there were bugs crawling beneath his skin, waiting to burst out.

So yeah. Ken was on business. And Niall pretended to be so tired that he wouldn't be able to get up and go anywhere. Don't answer the door, blah blah blah. Once enough time had passed, Niall threw the blankets off and scuttled to the closet. Once he was dressed and ready, he peered through the peephole. No Ken waiting on him. Well, he shouldn't be. If he was still there waiting nearly an hour after he left, he had REAL issues to deal with.

Downtown. Midday.

Not the ideal time to be out here looking for drugs but he knew the places to go, no matter what time it was. The brothel, for example, was a 24 hour deal. Pulling his hood over his head over his curls, he smirked as he approached. He really felt like he was getting away with something. That was... until he opened the door and found a couple of familiar forms standing inside. One was Kyle. The other was...

All the blood drained out of Niall's face.

"K-ken!" He immediately backed up toward the door. "I can... totally explain what this is about..."

avatar_Blue avatar_Kenneth Branagh

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#1
Where the hell was Jem? He was supposed to be at the diner half an hour ago, but he didn't show up. Ken had to leave without him, since their 'appointment' within the brothel couldn't wait. Of all places, a brothel. Jem sure knew how to pick them.

Ken left a message for Jem with the other guys who decided to wait for him and then headed off downtown alone; luckily it was only a ten minute bus ride away. Perks of living in a small town, he supposed; everything was within walking distance, mostly.

As he sat on the bus and stared out of the window at the passing scenery, his mind wandered back to the flat and to Niall. Ken was concerned about Niall's health. Lately it had taken a sharp decline, ever since Ken put him--forced him--into an almost military regime of diet, exercise and no drugs, alcohol or supernatural influence. It wasn't easy, though; Niall resisted and resented the changes.

He resented Ken, too, and it broke Ken's heart to have to be The Enemy in Niall's eyes, but he still had to go through with it. He had to do what was right, even if it was the hardest thing he had ever done--harder than having to kill his own mother, after the vampires changed her and left her there for him to find. Harder than even that, but he didn't let Niall know because it wasn't time yet. This wasn't about Ken, or Ken's problems, or Ken's past.

This was about turning a new leaf and moving on with their lives together.

Some days were harder than others. Some days were impossible. When Niall begged him and implored with him, with tears clinging to his lashes, Ken had to harden his heart. When he writhed in discomfort and scratched at his own arms and legs to get the creeping, crawling sensation out, Ken had to wrap his arms around him and force him to stop harming himself. And when he shouted that Ken didn't understand, that he was abusing him, Ken had to pretend that none of it went straight to his heart.

It was difficult being in love with Niall, too, and to not be able to touch him intimately. Ken wanted to. Niall wanted him to. But they couldn't foster a relationship in the midst of so much uncertainty. Ken wanted a fresh start--for both of them. Rushing into things now would come back to bite them, he was almost certain of it. Fostering love and repairing a relationship didn't happen overnight. Ken was in it for keeps; rushing ahead felt like repeating the past all over again and he couldn't risk that, could he?

He sighed and rested his head against the window. Maybe he could take Niall out tonight. A date? To take his mind off of things? It could be a welcomed distraction, and the little part of Ken that was romantic caught on to the idea and clung to it. It would also be a treat from the diet that they were both on--Ken decided to follow it too, to show Niall that he was just as dedicated.

Thinking about the date and settling on it made him feel much better about having to leave Niall at home, all alone. Ken wished that he was home now, but there was still work to be done. He sucked it up and got off the bus. Locating the brothel wasn't difficult, knowing where the entrance was, and he was surprised to see Jem and the others pulling up just as he reached the door. Ken nodded to them and wordlessly, they entered.

Find the informant. Gather the information. Then... clear the infestation.

It was supposed to be a simple job but before they could even meet with their man on the inside--just as they were waiting for him to come down--someone entered and they all turned to look. But only Ken's heart sank straight to the bottom of his shoes. And only his expression showed a naked surprise and hurt and... betrayal.

There was only one reason anyone came to a brothel infested by incubi and succubi.

As Niall backed away, stammering excuses, Ken tried to school his expression but he struggled to do it because Niall was the last person he expected to be here. Niall was supposed to be at home, weak and ill and unable to go anywhere. Niall was supposed to be... his. Hadn't they agreed on that? Or was it only Ken who thought that they were together? He didn't know what hurt more, between the cheating and the lying.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Aiden hissed as he walked forward to grab Niall's wrist, giving him a hard shove. "Get out! We're--"

Ken stepped in and wrenched Aiden's hand away. Then he took Niall's wrist and, hard-eyed and stern-faced, and pulled him outside.

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It had been weeks. WEEKS. Only coming up on three, but still. Those three weeks of being sober were driving him insane. Like he felt like he was hearing things. Voices. He felt like there were shadows in every corner. And the sickness, the maladies. Not for one moment did he feel comfortable in his own body. The walking, the jogging, the healthy diet, it might be Ken's idea of fixing what Niall did to himself but this was nearly a decade of self destruction that Ken was trying to unravel. It wasn't easy to remove the shackles of comfort he'd allowed to take hold of him.

Once, he did manage to sneak some alcohol and even that was a brief respite in the midst of the shock his body was going through. Half the time, he felt too hot, the other time, too cold. His skin burned when touched. His hair even hurt, sitting on his head. He was getting to the point where he wanted to just tear it all off.

A sex demon could have helped him through it. Ken wasn't supposed to be there. Niall was going to be in and out in less than an hour, high on dream dust. But no. No, that wasn't what happened. Ken was here. Why was here? Why was he here? Niall wanted to cry in his frustration.

And then he was unceremoniously dragged outside, the whole time digging his nails into his palm. As soon as they were outside, Niall tried to wrench his wrist from Ken's tight grasp.

"Will you let go already? I was on my way out, or didn't you see that?" He totally was, too. Backing up, that meant he was about to leave. He didn't need Ken to try and drag him out like some disappointed mama cat with its wandering runt.

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A lifetime of addiction couldn't be undone in three weeks and Ken knew that, but he had hoped that Niall would help himself. He hoped that Niall would want to change, and that the drugs and alcohol and vampires weren't more important than reclaiming his family and his old life. Day by day, as things grew worse and worse, that hope dwindled.

But Ken still kept trying. He didn't give up easily. What he did give up, he regretted for a lifetime.

When Niall jerked his wrist away, Ken let go. He bit his tongue, holding back his disappointment. Niall wasn't feeling well and the withdrawals were driving him to say and do things that he didn't mean. That was how Ken justified his attitude and his sometimes harsh words. Sometimes they were downright cruel and it was as if he simply didn't realize what he was doing was hurting someone else.

Or maybe he did. Maybe he did it anyway, despite the knowledge. That wasn't the Niall that Ken used to know but he supposed that... this Niall wasn't the same one from the past. Ken saw glimmers of him at points, but he didn't know if there was enough of that old Niall left in there.

He didn't look at Niall; instead, his gaze was on the ground. Ken swallowed and ate the words just at the tip of his tongue. He breathed in deeply and willed himself to stay calm. "Please go home."

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When even Ken couldn't look at him, things were pretty bad. Sometimes, Niall thought there was nothing left at all between them. Sometimes when he looked at Ken, he was as far away as he was before they met again. Somewhere else, somewhere Niall couldn't reach. The past Ken and the current Ken blurred with his sweat and tears sometimes and he held onto him some nights, begging, pleading for something, anything to make the night easier to get through. Niall couldn't even remember the last time he slept peacefully.

No, he could. It was the night JC snuck him the prystal. That was the last time he slept like a baby. After that, it was nightmare after night terror, flailing, shouting, flinching, and wincing. Less volatile, he woke up with eyes wetted by tears, salt on his tongue, pillow bathed in sorrows of the past.

The withdrawals made things so difficult. Life itself was hard. But it was unbearable now. Nothing felt good. Nothing tasted good. All he really wanted to do was curl up in a dark hole and stay there. It was amazing he even left the apartment for this. And fate would throw Ken into his path. If he believed god wasn't real or that he wasn't dead if he ever did exist, then he would have to wonder what he wanted from him, what he was meant to gain from Ken.

Sobriety, maybe.

"You can't trust me to just go home," Niall said in his sassiest tone, and then with an awful sickness in the pit of his stomach, he realized that Ken was-- "You're giving up on me!" His eyes widened and he grabbed onto Ken's arms, trying to use them to make Ken face him. He stuck his face in Ken's face to try and get him to look at him. "You absolute... You're giving up on me!"

He let go of Ken, completely obliterated by that realization. The one person... His arms were immediately around himself, to protect himself. Armor up. He stepped back and down, off the curb. Then he turned and he stalked off, across the street. When he turned around, he called out, "You're already fucked. You shouldn't have brought Jem. They know about him."

And then he was cinching the drawstrings on his hoodie tight around his face before he continued to stalk off down the street.

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Was it worth fighting for Niall when Niall didn't want to save himself? Ken had to ask himself that a lot of nights. Every night. Sometimes he saw the road ahead and it was all bumps and hills but never once did he think to give up on Niall. The answer was always yes--yes, it was worth it.

Even when Niall was at his worst, Ken was at his most determined. Losing Niall wasn't an option. He said it, didn't he? He did--he said it. It was no good without Niall. No good if they weren't together. Life wasn't worth living without Niall.

Desperation saw Ken travel across the globe to find him so why would he give up now, when he finally had Niall?

He wanted Niall to get out of the area, in case things got ugly. Niall was safe at home; Ken had protection there. Out here, and especially with a team of hunters behind him, he couldn't focus all on Niall and Ken would never forgive himself if Niall was injured on his watch. Once the job was done, he could hurry on home and sit Niall down and get to the bottom of things.

But Niall, he misunderstood. Ken was jolted out of his thoughts as Niall thrust his face close, and then withdrew with absurd accusations on his lips. By the time Ken understood what he was trying to say, Niall was across the street. He was walking away with a misunderstanding. But Jem--they knew about Jem?

Ken didn't know what to do. Jem was in danger but Niall was walking away thinking that Ken was giving up. There wasn't time to think--the hunters were walking into a trap. If he let Niall walk away now, God only knew where he might end up. Trapped between a rock and a hard place, Ken's mind raced and he felt a sheen of cold sweat break out all over him.

"Niall!"

He didn't know what it said that, faced with the choice between saving a group of men and saving one man, he ran after the one. He ran hard and caught up--Ken was fast and light on his feet, no one could deny that--and he grabbed onto Niall's arm. "Niall stop! I'm not--I'm not giving up on you. I just want you to go home where it's safe!" Ken looked over his shoulder at the brothel, at the innocent building that in the daytime appeared totally harmless. But inside was a nest of monsters, preying on people like Niall.

"Please, go home. I'll meet you there, after this job--" He heard a sickening sound from within the building--a sound suspiciously like a gunshot.

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"Right, you really think I think you trust me to go home where it's safe?" Niall retorted, arms still wrapped around himself like they could act as a shield against anything else Ken had to say. But he said he wasn't giving up. Niall couldn't think straight, though he tried. The whole... "rehab" thing took a lot out of a person and he didn't know how to tell Ken just how difficult it really was. Sometimes, he was certain he was going to push Ken away with his petulance and his stubborn resistance to the new regime Ken had him living through.

It wasn't all bad, though. Some days were just worse than others. And he was getting past it, he thought. Sometimes. But then the nightmares reared their ugly heads and all he could think about was the brother he couldn't save. Useless. Worthless. Funny, he thought he was happy with his life before Ken came and poked all these holes in it. Just another jolly junkie, peddling stolen goods for cash and trading his body for drugs. But he thought he had an upbeat personality through it all.

Without drugs, though, things were... well, they were significantly less fun.

Ken was all but begging him to go home, so he was about to speak when both of them were interrupted by the telltale sound of gunfire. That wouldn't be the inhabitants of the brothel--they had other ways to deal with their adversaries. So...

"I told you! They knew! You shouldn't have come here, especially all together like this!"

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#7
Home was a lot safer than out here, with gunshots in the air and a nest of supernaturals just behind them. Ken didn't flinch as another shot rang out, this time louder, and the sound of men's voices permeated the air. He took another desperate look behind him and his grasp on Niall's arm tightened.

"Go home, Niall. Please. I'll meet you back at the flat." He turned back to Niall. "I have to go. They need help."

They thought it would be easy, given that the brothel wasn't popular during the daytime. There would be the occasional junkie but for the most part, the building only came alive after dark. Fewer people meant fewer casualties. They didn't want to hurt anyone innocent—just the monsters that hunted men.

"Go." Ken let go. The desperate look was trained onto Niall, for just a second. He wished with all his being that he could go with Niall, but he had a job and he had responsibilities. Ken turned and rushed back across the street, hand on the silver knives that had been handed down through the generations of hunters in his family.

Knives against guns. Humans against supernaturals. It was always going to be an uphill battle but this was what they all trained for.

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Inside the brothel, Jem still held his shotgun at the ready, having already killed two supers. The others were all stock still, waiting. And Jem did his best not to look any of them in the eyes as he came over to Kyle. He put his hand on Kyle's shoulder. This all started when they tried their game on Kyle, taking advantage of that moment when that accursed filthy rag of a man called Niall walked in and destroyed their entire raid.

For fuck's sake. This should have gone much easier and here they were. Kyle blinked and shook his head and said he was all right now. But it was only himself and Jem in the lobby. The others had scattered to make sure others weren't running in the chaos. Chances that they were going to catch them ALL here and now were growing slimmer by the minute and Jem fucking hated it.

As soon as Ken made it back, Jem barked at him to check the basement. He saw at least one of them scramble down there in the exodus. In the meantime, he shot one more succubus in the face while telling Kyle to restrain the last one in the room with them.

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The problem with incubi and succubi was that they never operated alone. They knew their vulnerabilities and they covered for that in some way. Not all supernaturals relied on their powers. Many, in Ken's experience, were more than happy to turn a gun or a knife onto hunters because it was easy and quick and sometimes the hardest to defend against. He could detect magic, maybe ward against it. But he couldn't ward off a bullet.

When he heard a gunshot, he feared the worst. That someone might have turned a gun onto the hunters inside. But once he burst through the door, it was Jem toting a gun and the bodies on the ground indicated that he had held his own against the supernaturals inside. Ken breathed a sigh of relief and only nodded silent agreement.

The raid had failed, however; that much was obvious. Ken hated it too, but he pushed his emotions back down into the dark and focused on his job. He passed a few rooms with their doors open; one of them had a human inside, still riding the high. She barely lifted her head when Ken passed. The monster preying on her had long since fled, though.

Stealthily he crept down into the basement, treading lightly. Ken's fingers flexed against the handle of his knife; he had it ready, but it wasn't drawn in case there were people down here. At the bottom of the steps was a long hallway with doors leading into rooms. Ken gently eased the first one open; empty. He heard a scuffle somewhere down the hall, however, and crept further along. It was dimly lit, but not pitch black, thankfully. He could see fairly well.

Just as he got to the end, where the sound had come from, it stopped. The scuffling stopped. Cautiously he pushed at the door; it creaked open and inside was a huddled figure in the middle of the floor. "Sir." Ken swiftly looked over his shoulder; no one behind him. "Sir, please get up."

The man shuddered and Ken could hear the breath rattling in his throat. He slowly got to his feet and swayed as he did so, and Ken saw his smile too late. Something collided into him from behind, sinking daggers into his shoulder. Teeth. Weapons. It didn't matter; it was done with silent efficiency. Immediately, Ken whipped out his own dagger and stabbed, turning to see some kind of dark, shadowy beast.

It let out a hissing sound as his dagger sank in but with a flick of its head and superhuman strength, it sent Ken crashing into the wall. He had time to let out one warning shout before the beast clamped down on him again, this time aiming for his throat, but Ken threw up an arm and felt its teeth crunching into the flesh and bone.

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Fuck. FUCK. Jem couldn't stand it when a job went upside down this badly. Not only had they all been compromised but now the entire mission had been thrown to shit. The chaos labored around Jem as he hefted his shotgun, ready to take out any other supers that came around but they had scattered all over the brothel. They were now dealing with supers in their own territory. Jem had to make a decision: to continue taking out as many of the supers as he could right here and now and risk their lives in the process or he could call for a retreat with all their necks still intact.

Jem let out another curse and he called out to the others on the radio, telling them to take out whatever they encountered but to make their way back together. Better together than not. It was bad enough so many had been killed by one by one. This was beyond that. This was pure war on their turf.

FUCK. He should have thought this over better. What the hell was wrong with that little shit, Niall, and why did he drag Ken into his sinkhole?

"Repeat: meet in the lobby and prepare for exit."

Some of the guys were coming back after previously hunting down their scattering prey. Some of them looked like they had a tough time, others as though they hadn't even encountered anything beyond the lobby.

Counting heads, Jem frowned.

"Where's Ken?"

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The world tilted into a kaleidoscope of colors for Ken as he felt himself being hurled around the basement, and his head thudded painfully off of one of the walls. Blinking away the starbursts exploding inside his skull, he whipped around and flailed out with his dagger.

The beast was obviously injured but it kept going with inhuman stamina. Having one arm incapacitated meant that he had no leverage, and he briefly felt a cold, cold fear seizing his heart. If he died here...

If he left Niall all alone...

The thought nearly stopped his heart.

But then desperation set in and he began to kick out and slash away with almost frenetic energy, scoring several well-aimed hits. The beast fell back and Ken noted almost absently through the haze of his own blood that it was bleeding shadows. Its blood looked like spilled ink pooling on the floor.

Then suddenly there were voices and the creature turned onto them, as Ken slid to the ground, exhausted and weak from blood loss.

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Home. Here he was. Home.

Tapping his toes against the windowsill, where he sat on top of the back of the couch, the window tilted open to let his cigarette smoke waft outside. Ken already complained about the stink of cigarettes inside--besides, it was illegal or whatever--so he was trying to do the right thing. But instead, he still felt that skin crawling chill, this time up his spine.

I shouldn't have left.

Ken told him to. Ken told him to. But all Niall saw when he closed his eyes was his brother, dying again and again while Niall wasn't quick enough to save him. Logically, he knew the guilt wasn't justified here; if Jem and a bunch of qualified and active hunters couldn't keep Ken safe, what made him think that he, the lowly black sheep, could? Still, the creep was real, and it was cold and it was foreboding.

Tapping his toes again, he looked over at his cheap phone, sitting on the couch bed, where he'd tossed it when he came home. Smashing the cigarette against the windowsill then flicking it outside, he shut the window behind him and slid down off the back of the couch and over the pillows, letting them spill away from his body as he grasped the phone.

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As Ken eddied in and out of consciousness, he heard voices. Angry voices. One sounded panicked; another was calm. Someone was cursing right by his ear and every bump and jostle of the car hurt. He knew he was in a car because he heard the screech of wheels and the hum of the engine.

"...ugh..."

He stirred but even just the motion of his head made a wave of nausea churn through him. Ken retched and felt someone easing him up. When he tried to open his eyes, only one responded; the other was crusted shut.

"Niall?" His voice was groggy, a low croak in the back of the throat. "Home. Take... me home."

"We're taking you to the hospital," someone said, and Ken shook his head—which he instantly regretted.

"No. Home." Blindly he felt around for the latch in the car door. "Home. Take me home."

"...Jem? What do you think?"

Ken's breathing was heavy and labored, but... it was just a little scratch. Some blood. The beast had only gotten his arm and shoulder, not his head or torso. "I'm... fine. Take me home." He had to get back to Niall. Back to the flat. The one driving thought circled around and around in his scrambled brain as he fought weakly with the other hunters. "Home."

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"No," Jem said firmly. "You're going straight to the hospital. We have to have you checked out. You know how many of ours have been turned by these monsters? Huh? No. We're making damn sure you're clean first. So stop fucking talking about home."

Besides, home was no longer where Ken thought it was, if it was up to Jem. He was going to come back with him and the other guys. Their connection had already been witnessed and confirmed, so what was the point in storing him away from prying eyes? Besides that, Niall fucking Gallagher was part of the problem here. The fucking idiot was the reason their mission went to hell so fast.

Fuck.

It went sideways so fast that his head spun thinking about it.