We Are Bulletproof

"Are you... out of your mind?" Incredulously Mik looked Cori over, from the top of his head to the shoes on his feet. Why was he dressed like that? He looked like a creepy weirdo, buttoned up to his eyeballs, with gloves on his hands. Gloves over gloves, even, and sunglasses, despite it being a cloudy day. It had just started to rain, in fact, so Mik was out battening down the hatches and making sure the kennels were well-protected. He was tending to the doggies when Cori ran up, babbling nonsensically about being cursed and needing a place to stay until the rain stopped.

"Does Lieve know you're out dressed like this?" How could Lieve drop the ball like this?! Cori was a hideous mess! He reached out to take Cori by the shoulders, steering him inside where it was dry. What was that thing about a curse anyway? Cori had always been kind of quirky and Mik accepted that as him being him, but. Geez. Curses yet!

He took Cori into an inner office where he plonked him down and made him take off the coat. There was a big comfy couch there too, perfect for taking naps, which Mik threw himself onto while Cori sat in the loveseat with his hands between his legs, looking nervous and out of sorts. "You can stay here until the rain stops. Do you want anything to drink? Wanna go see the new kittens?"

"NO!" Cori shook his head so hard his curls flew everywhere.

Taken aback, Mik held up both of his hands with the palms out. "Okay... okay geez. I thought you liked kittens."

"I do! But I can't touch them!"

"Okay... sure. I have to go see if Aunt Shel needs help, so you sit tight and. Take a nap or something, calm down. All right? I'll check in on you later." He stood up, went over to ruffle Cori's unruly mop and then went back out. Raising Cori was kind of a community effort these days, ever since his mom mysteriously disappeared. Lieve was nice enough to offer him a place to stay, but their little group of friends took turns dropping by to make sure Cori was all right. (He was kind of an innocent thing, sheltered and protected by his mom and his friends.)

Aunt Shelby was tending to a puppy that someone had abandoned, and it had been struck by a car. It was in pretty bad shape and they weren't sure if the poor little thing would make it. Ooh, that made Mik so mad! Instead of handing the little thing over to a shelter, some asshole just left him by the side of the road and drove off! OOH PEOPLE!

"Everything okay Aunt Shel? It's really coming down out there!" He peeked in on poor little pupper, which was sleeping. "Aww... his leg looks bad. Do you think we'll have to amputate?" Mik frowned. Aunt Shelby didn't know, she said, but it looked quite beyond saving. Shit. If Mik ever found the person who did this—!

He turned when someone entered the front lobby of the shelter, and their motion-detector doorbell went off. Mik walked back out; immediately his expression changed from stormy to sunny. "Rip! You're here!" He ran forward to grab a hold of Rip's arm to pull him inside—and also so that the automatic door could close to seal them off from the sudden storm outside!

Rip stepped into the lobby but he sort of... half stood there for a long moment, with the doors trying to shut on him and then opening again. Rain lashed at his back and his hair was a wet, tangled mess in his face. His clothes stuck to him uncomfortably. The bus had stopped near the shelter but there was still a walk up from the outer gate and across the asphalt parking lot before arriving at the office itself.

Pulled inside, he heard the doors slide closed behind them. His boots squeaked on the wet linoleum as he stepped further inside.

He... didn't know why he was here. He shouldn't be here. But he had defied direct orders before. The problem was that when he did, somebody else got hurt in the process. So... he didn't know why he was here. He shouldn't be here; it was only going to cause problems for Shelby and Mik.

"It's... there's a storm," he said, as if he had to explain his current state to the others in the lobby. He wrapped his arms around his body. The eye makeup, the nail polish, the jewelry, the hair, that was all the same. Leather pants had been a mistake, and the tank top he wore beneath a vest were pathetic against the onslaught of wind and rain outside.

To be fair, though, the rain had only started after he boarded the bus.

"I got off at the wrong stop," he explained. "And I had to go around town again."

"I know, we were scrambling to get everything covered! Goodness, you're all soaked through!"

There was even a little puddle forming at Rip's feet! Mik pulled him further along, past the receptionist's desk (usually manned by Mik) and into the back. "We've got some towels you can use to dry off. Come on, this way." Mik had the good sense not to remind Rip that if he got off at the wrong stop, he could have taken the return bus back... not take it all the way around town! Poor Rip was already soaked and bedraggled, there was no need to pile on him now.

In the back, he found clean towels in a supply closet and handed them to Rip. "Are you cold? I can get a heater to warm you up."

His smile lingered on Rip's damp form. Rip was probably here to see his fish, which were happily installed in their new tank. Allie didn't actually come through with his promise to buy one, but Mik heard that he had gotten injured that night shortly after he chased after Rip, and couldn't get it. Allie did transfer some money, though, so Mik went and got a tank, and the fish were just fine.

Rip looked down. Oh yes, he was dripping everywhere and he was soaked from being out in the rain during its sudden heavy showers. When he left the apartment, they sky had been grey and cloudy but the temperatures were mild. Not too cold, not too hot. Rip liked it... up until the part where he ended up a sopping mess when the clouds decided to open up buckets of rain over him.

Stepping after Mik, his first step was overeager and he slipped--but caught himself before he spilled onto the ground. Just sort of... stumbled before righting himself. After that, he was careful with each step as he followed Mik to a supply closet. One towel was propped over his head and the back of his neck while he used the other to make an attempt at drying off his clothes. At least the leather just sort of... let the water slide off.

"Oh, no... I'm not... I'm just wet." He looked down at himself. "I should have seen the rain coming. I saw the clouds but I thought it was just going to be one of those overcast days..."

"Not a good day to be out without an umbrella, huh?" Mik smiled as he reached over to help Rip dry off, gently rubbing the towel against his dark hair. He didn't know why he did it, it just felt like the kind of thing to do. And he took the corner of the towel to lightly wipe the area under Rip's eyes, where his eyeliner was running slightly. Maybe he was still in caretaker mode from Cori? Maybe he wanted to do it just because.

"Your eyeliner's running," he did try to explain himself, hoping that Rip didn't find what he was doing odd. Not too odd, at least! Mik wasn't trying to treat him like a child, either! Obviously Rip was a full grown man. But Mik took care of animals, he took care of Cori, he had that motherly streak in him. Nothing to be ashamed about, right? Right!

"Did you come to see your fish? We've got a new litter of kittens, too, you should see them! Tiny little fluffballs! They just opened their eyes the other day."

"No..." And he wasn't even sure he had an umbrella. There were umbrellas, of course, for the Prince and for Keith. But for somebody like Rip, who was meant to stay home unless told otherwise...

But when he left, he felt that strange feeling against his forehead again, like breaking a seal. It was so... strange. But it didn't hurt. At least, not until Keith entered his mind and mucked around in there for a while. Thinking of Keith, Rip did his best not to change his expression, especially since Mik was currently helping him with his hair and his face.

Keith had been amused for 2.5 seconds about his "ugly kitten" shirt. And then Allie had shown up and put him in a sour, horrible, awful mood. And with Rhys mysteriously vanished and Raf nowhere to be seen, it was just the two of them. Keith's anger combined with his frustration made an evil combination. Keith was convinced that Rip had been passing himself off as Jack to Jack's friends without discussing it with him first, that he was going to fuck everything up. And in line with that punishment, he thoroughly fucked Rip up for the next two days. And with no Rhys or Raf, no reprieve came.

Not until Keith was called away for a job and then it was just... Rip.

"...I need to invest in the waterproof kind..." But Keith liked this kind. He didn't say that aloud. As the towel lowered, he nodded.

"I wanted to see if they made it safely--" he was about to apologize for having to ditch them before he could see the fish off safely but interrupted himself. "Kittens? Baby kittens? Here?" He put his hands together in unbridled delight. "Where?"

"Here! Come on, I'll show you!"

He grasped onto Rip's hand and tugged him down the hall, towards a special area designated for cats and kittens. There was a warm room that they'd put the kittens in, into a special pen built just for them—where they couldn't wander away. Mik pushed open the door and pulled Rip inside, but there he halted. "You need to wash your hands first Rip. It's just to make sure they don't get sick."

There was a sink near the door; he gently nudged Rip towards it and turned on the tap. Mik scrubbed up well before drying his hands on a clean towel. And then he went over to the pen, where he reached in and scooped up a tiny fluffy ball of orange and black. "Their mom is a stray we found in town, and she'd given birth and hidden them behind a dumpster! Some kids called us in to take them. We got mom too! But she's out for her shots right now."

He turned to Rip and offered him the kitten, which clawed ineffectually at the air, mewing. Its big yellow-green eyes were trained on Rip as it let out another teeny high-pitched sound.

This guy was a flurry of... everything. Rip only blinked as he was pulled along and words were thrust at him. Without even thinking--he wasn't used to thinking when things were moving this fast--Rip washed his hands. Clean hands for small kittens. He dried his hands off, too, then because he didn't know where else to go (he did sort of do a half turn as he looked around the area), he slowly followed Mik to a pen where he could see a clump of fireballs rolled up and around each other.

"Oh..."

The kitten handed toward him looked scared as it clawed and cried. Rip took it and instinctively held it to his chest. One hand. That was all it took to cradle a cat so small. It was a tiny ball of fluff. Its eyes were so big for such a little creature and it was pressing its face against Rip's chest like it was... looking for something. Like maybe mom. Or... mom's teats. Rip laughed a little, somehow embarrassed by his own thought, even though it was natural for a baby kitten to seek its mother's teats.

Ignoring that thought, he tilted his head as he looked down at it.

"It's black and orange," he said, "like the goldfish queen."

Did that make this one the queen kitten? He liked to think so. Her fur was super soft and once he placed most of his hand on her and gently petted her head with one finger, she seemed to calm down. Even... He lowered his head a little.

"She's purring!" he whispered urgently, as if this was news to somebody working with kittens. Also, he didn't realize he'd already called the kitten a she. In his mind, she was already she. But he honestly had zero way of knowing.

Most of the kittens were some variant of tabby, oranges and whites and grays and even one little black and white one. But Mik picked out the only orange and black tabby because of its similarity to their goldfish queen. (Yes, their goldfish queen, because he and Rip were taking care of the fish together, weren't they?) And he just knew Rip would love the little kitten, too.

He had kind of a cute laugh. Rip, that was. Mik smiled even though he didn't know what Rip was laughing about, watching him being super extra careful with the tiny furball. It settled against his chest, seemingly at ease, and—yes, it was purring! "That means she likes you Rip!" Mik came closer so that he could stroke the kitten's thin curved back, gently tickling her at the base of her tail. She turned to bat at his hand but her little claws didn't do much damage.

"Are you gonna choose this one to be your pet? There are others too, but... I think she's already taken to you." She was kneading at Rip's shirt now, sinking her teeny claws into the fabric of his vest. Mik laughed a little as he stroked her head, and her eyes began to flicker closed. Then they opened again, gazing up at Rip, before they closed. "She's so cute."

What could be more adorable? If the little kitten on the t-shirt made his heart feel bigger, the real deal was way more adept at heart-melting. Look at that tiny ball with the big ears and the big eyes and the wannabe attack mode! And she was indeed purring and kneading at his vest, even though it was still damp from outside. He was glad he'd dried his hair. The idea of dripping all over her horrified him. Cats hated water, right?!

"She does," he said with a smile, because it was damn near impossible not to smile at a kitten, especially one that liked him. Mik's question, though... made him ache inside. He wished he could have her as a pet. In his mind's eye, he could see her growing up at his side. Knocking things down, hunting down bugs, batting at boot strings, jumping out from behind chairs. He wanted that for his life.

"I... want her," he said with some hesitation. And he knew that Mik said she could stay here at the shelter as his official not-at-home pet but... "It would be selfish of me to keep her here if somebody could take her to a real home."

"Then... we'll make sure she goes to a good home, and people who'll love her as much as you do. But in the meantime, you're more than welcome to come see her whenever you have time."

Rip seemed like a busy guy, since it took him a few days to get here. And he never called or texted back in that time, either! Maybe he wasn't interested... which was okay. Hey, Mik had to shoot his shot, right? If he never reached out, how would he ever know? That streak of boldness was definitely something he learned only recently, because young Mik would have probably gone to hide behind Aunt Shelby and secretly made eyes at people.

"I can send you lots of pictures of her too, for when you can't be here." He watched the little kitty snoozing against Rip's chest. It was such a shame that Rip couldn't take her, knowing that he would have really loved her and given her a good home. Mik sometimes regretted letting people take animals from their shelter because he sensed that some of them didn't know what they were in for. A couple of times he went out to check on them, and a handful of instances saw people even giving them back, when they realized that they weren't properly equipped to handle them.

"How much time?"

It felt like asking how long he had to live, even though he knew it wasn't so dramatic. She was just so cute and lovable and he loved her already, it was true. He could already imagine her in his home. Not the current one. The one he'd been building in his head for a while now. A useless endeavor, he knew. But. He couldn't help yearning for more than what he had in life.

"Send pictures?" He asked. It sounded so easy. But...  Rip didn't look up from where he gently stroked the kitten's little head. "By phone, you mean..." His laugh now was sheepish. "I don't actually have one so..."

"I don't know." He couldn't tell the future or he would have gladly told Rip everything he wanted to know. It depended on luck, he supposed, and the right person coming along to take her. And if no one did, Mik was always here to look after the kitten for Rip. It wasn't like it took a lot to convince him to keep a cutie like her, either—although his Aunt Shelby might sigh at him adding another animal to his menagerie.

But... oh. Oh? No phone? Was Rip one of those people who lived off the grid? They had a couple of guys like that around town, people who disliked technology and who only lived off the land. Not that Rip looked like one of those rugged outdoorsy types but... Hmm... "We could... get you one? Or if you can get online, I'll email pictures to you?" He paused then laughed. "Or I'll mail them... in the mail!"

Rip hoped he would be around enough for his little kitten queen to know who he was. That she would know the sound of his voice and the touch of his hand. That she would want to be around him. That maybe... by the time she was old enough to be adopted... maybe... things would be different.

Keith had... a lot of enemies. Not that Rip hoped those enemies would get the best of him. But... the fact of the matter was--he had a lot of enemies. Even his allies didn't like him. After all, where did Rhys and Raphael get to? It had just been the two of them--Keith and Rip--in the apartment now. And it was extra lonely and extra painful and extra horrible.

He spent a lot of time in Raphael's room. Or Rhys' room. Raphael had things to look at. Rhys' room was neat and tidy and almost looked as if nobody ever lived there. But they were both preferable over the last room. Keith's room. It was a mess of dirty clothes flung aside. There was a clean pile and a dirty pile. There were weights that often pissed Keith off when he stubbed his toes on them, then blamed Rip for their placement (spoiler: Rip didn't use the weights and therefore never touched them.)

There was even a punching bag suspended in the corner of one area of the room by the closet. Keith took his body very seriously. It was... a nice body. But it didn't go with the warped person inside it. Not at all. Keith used that body as a weapon in every way imaginable.

So with all that on his mind, he shook his head. A phone... would be a bad idea. A terrible idea. He... would never be able to use it. Unless... he hid it in Raf's room maybe? A tiny flicker of hope as he looked up.

"How? I have some money," he said, which went without saying. He got on the bus, didn't he? And that meant getting into his roommates' money. (In this case, he had taken from Rhys... silently sending a prayer to the fallen king himself that he could be forgiven for doing it.)

"I could buy a phone!" His excited tone woke up the half asleep kitten, who looked at him with her half open eyes, then stretched out a paw over his arm before closing her eyes again.

"You could!" Mik... wasn't going to pretend he knew what went on through Rip's head. He just wasn't even going to try, because there were weird folks in Hazleton, some even weirder than Rip. It was easier to go along with it, especially since Rip appeared so excited by the prospect of buying a phone. That wouldn't be hard; they were cheap if he wasn't hung up on the latest models, and just wanted kitty pics from Mik.

"There's a store along the bus route, even. On the way home you can pick one up!" He stroked the little kitten's head again, until she went back to sleep, all curled up safe and sound against Rip's chest, still purring faintly. "You still have my number, right? Is that why you didn't call or text me up until now?" Mik glanced up with a little impish smile—but also genuinely curious! "Because you don't have a phone? Would you have called if you had one?"

"I saw it," he said, because he had gone by the store twice when he mistakenly got off at the wrong place and went all the way around the route again, not knowing how the bus system worked. He would rather take the bus with the number on it that he knew, rather than get stuck going somewhere that ended with him getting in some major trouble with Keith later on.

"Yes, the card is... Yes." He didn't need to tell Mik that he hid the card away in Raf's room. It was safer to hide things in Raf's room because when Rhys came back, there were no excuses to be in Rhys' room. But he could easily have reasons to go into Raf's room without suspicion. They were... friends? Rhys barely even looked at him, but the first time he did, he looked utterly disgusted. Since then, Rip tried to stay out of his line of vision if he could help it.

"I would... I just didn't have a phone, plus I was..." Incapacitated but he didn't say that aloud either. "There was something... holding me up at home..."

He fell silent for a moment, remembering with a heavy heart the last time he had seen Mik. He had run off on him. But his heart wasn't heavy for that. It was heavy for Allie. Not looking up, focusing on the kitten, he asked, "Is Allie okay?"

"Ahh... busy at home, huh? Do you have... a wife? Or a... partner? Kids?"

OKAY he could have been more subtle but screw it, why even bother! Those were innocent questions and Rip brought up the home thing and being busy anyway! He could have a kid he needed to look after! (Oof.) That might be why he couldn't have pets, since children and tiny animals did NOT mix! Mik knew all about that—one lady returned a sweet little puppy because her kid kept trying to ride it and kept bothering it while it was adjusting to its new home, and it was too skittish around them. Well no wonder, lady!

But then a dark cloud fell over Rip and Mik frowned, too. He didn't know what made him do it—maybe that sad look on Rip's face—but he reached out and gently rubbed Rip's back, up and down. "Allie said he got a little hurt, but when I talked to him, he seemed okay." Well... sort of. Mik heard the strain in Allie's voice, and he thought something was wrong at the time, too, despite Allie's valiant efforts to sound okay. Allie called to tell him he couldn't buy the tank, but that if he bought it, Allie would pay him back (which he did).

"What happened? Something happened right? I haven't heard from Allie since he called me after the festival..."

"What?" Rip all but choked at the question. "W-wife?"

His expression was downright indescribable, because his feelings on the matter were a mix of confusion, disbelief, and maybe a tiny bit of fear. Like somehow Keith could hear the exchange and come over to give him a good throat punch for even thinking about a wife and kids. HIM--with a wife and kids? He laughed despite himself.

"Oh no... no... I mean, yes? Not a partner... He'd kill me if I called him that. But uh... something like that, I guess..."

Partner was not the term for it. At all. Partners had an equal part in a relationship, did they not? Well.... there was nothing equal about their relationship. One person held 100% of the power. What was that even called? Honestly, Rip didn't know what else to call him but his master or creator.

"Mm..." The sound came out unbidden, the sound of a man starved for affection, for a soft touch instead of a brutal one. It felt good, the back rubbing. It would feel even better right between the shoulder blades and a little lower. (Not THAT low, pervs.) Now he felt like the kitten, with half closed eyes, content for the moment.

Oh right. Allie. Not... so content, after all. He lowered his gaze.

"My uh... partner hurt him. They got into an argument and he hurt Allie. I didn't see what happened after... We had to... he took me home. I wanted to help but..."

Awww no, there was a partner! But—he? Mik went on a little bit of a rollercoaster ride there, first down and then up and then sort of coasting on confusion because Rip really didn't sound happy. And when Mik asked him about a wife, he got all flustered! Well what did that mean?! What Mik would have given to be able to read minds! (Not knowing that there were people who could, right here in town!)

And if the guy wasn't a partner, what was he? An acquaintance?! Maybe even Rip didn't have a word for it. Some people had flings, or they were loosely tied up with somebody but not in a relationship. Complicated probably summed it up for Rip, even if Mik was still weirded out by the way he referred to his... sort-of-partner with real discomfort on his face.

But. Hm. How cute. He seemed to like the back rubbing thing, so Mik kept it up for a little bit longer. There was a whole story behind Rip and his sort-of-partner too, he was more than sure. Did he want to know? It seemed like it was too early to exchange life stories and anyway, he only met Rip a few days ago! But over time, perhaps he could earn Rip's trust enough to learn about what was bothering him.

OR.

Rip's guy could have gotten into a fight with Allie! Mik's expression was of pure shock. "But—but who would try to fight Allie! What did they fight about?" It was so jarring to think about Allie getting into a fight with anybody! And—and Allie was a cop, even! He wouldn't assault anybody randomly, would he?

"Me..."

He could not be more uncomfortable in that moment. In fact, if he could have shrunk himself down into nothing, he would, gladly. Anything not to be standing there talking about how Allie got hurt because of him. But--but he tried! He really tried to tell Allie he wasn't Jack and he thought he believed him up until that moment, when he tried to take "Jack" home with him.

"They were fighting over me," he said miserably. He looked down at the kitten. At least looking at her made the ache in his chest lessen some. She was very cute. And look at her little paw, stretching slightly in her sleep as she slightly rolled with her tummy exposed. What a trusting little creature... That was exactly why she could never, ever meet Keith. Ever.

"Allie had me mixed up with somebody he knows and I told him I wasn't him... I think he was just humoring me because when I tried to leave, he got in the way... tried to stop Keith--my... partner person--and that's how he ended up getting hurt."

"You?"

He didn't mean to sound so incredulous. Rip was a really handsome guy, and he was tall and that eyeliner thing really worked for him and there was a quaint childishness about him that Mik found very appealing. He sorta wanted to protect Rip; Rip had the air of an injured animal about him, to be perfectly honest, and rescuing injured, defenseless things was right up Mik's alley. Yeah, he was getting kind of moony over somebody with a partner but—it wasn't that he didn't think people wouldn't fight over Rip.

It was just...

Allie didn't seem like that hardline aggressive type! Mik didn't know Rip's partner, but he was getting a bad vibe off of him. Maybe he was a bully. That could explain why Rip seemed so uncomfortable talking about him, whereas most people would either be a little abashed or even outright proud.

"I'm sorry that happened... I hope you don't think it's your fault, though, because it's not!" Rip obviously took it hard. Mik patted his back softly as his expression brightened. "Hey let's call Allie and make sure he's okay!" Then Rip would stop looking so guilty over a misunderstanding that wasn't even his fault! Mik pulled out his phone and face timed Allie. "We'll be able to see if he's okay! Ooh he's picking up! Hi Allie!" He held up the phone so that Allie could see them—Rip and Mik and the little kitten.

Allie didn't look... dead. But he looked sleepy and he blinked a few times. "Hey guys. Is that—Jack with you?"

"...yes."

He didn't understand the tone. He thought it was because he was a worthless person to fight over and if Mik knew that he wasn't even a person, he was sure that the sound of his voice would only change to something worse. Disdain, like Rhys. Disgust, like Keith whenever he did anything he thought had too much... personality. You're not a person, Ripper. Remember that. Even Rhys called him an overgrown sex-toy or a... dildo.

Rip sighed.

The fight never should have happened. Poor Allie, he got in the middle of it and he got hurt over something not worth fighting over. Rip felt terrible about it. And he felt like he should have done more for him but he couldn't. Even if he had tried... he might have ended up nothing but dust for it. Would... it have been worth it? But Mik said that he was okay. Allie was okay, just hurt. Not dead, though. He lived another day. That was the part he clung onto.

"Oh. I..." The words didn't match the tone from earlier. Rip wasn't sure what Mik meant by that. That it wasn't his fault when it was literally all his fault. Just because he tried to help Allie understand didn't mean that he didn't hold responsibility for him getting hurt. But he didn't argue, only pet the little kitten while Mik administered more gentle back rubs.

"Oh. Okay..." He tilted his head as the phone was held up and the pair of them appeared in the corner. Was that what he looked like now? So bedraggled? He put one hand to his hair, trying to smooth out the tangle of curls. And then Allie suddenly appeared on the big screen, looking like he had been asleep. Oh. Rip's gaze lit up--he was sleepy but he was alive! But then...

"Ah... no... no, Allie, I'm not Jack, remember...? I'm sorry about what Keith did to you. Are you--are you okay?"

Tsk. Rip obviously still felt bad but honestly nobody made Allie or that other guy fight. It wasn't like Rip egged them on or anything, Mik was dead certain. Rip wasn't like that, he just wasn't! And if there was one thing Mik had learned from all of his nineteen short years on this earth, it was that a person was not responsible for the actions of others. They were only responsible for their own actions.

At least seeing Allie made him cheer up a bit! Until Allie called him Jack, which confused Mik too. "It's Rip, Allie!" He corrected Allie, who was probably just all bleary eyed and tired and recovering from getting beaten up. At least that guy didn't hit him in the face? His face looked fine, just tired and haggard. But maybe he got kneed in the groin or something... Ouch!

"Oh, Rip. Hey. Yeah I'm okay. Marge got a fixer to see me in time." Allie smiled; he cleared his voice, which was rough with sleep, and shifted the phone around so that he could lay back and still see them. "Are you okay? Keith didn't do anything to you, did he? I'm sorry I couldn't get you away from him..."

Mik blinked. Oh boy—guilt party! But one where everyone was feeling guilty about not doing enough! Also—what was a fixer? And who was Marge?!

Marge? Rip didn't know that one, either. He frowned slightly; even though he used his proper name, Allie still seemed to be mixing him up with Jack. Fixers, he knew those, although he'd never had to see one... for obvious reasons. He nodded, smiled. Good. But then... Was he okay? Allie was asking if he was okay? Why...? Why would he ask? Did he know something?

"Ah... I'm... I'm okay."

He definitely wasn't getting into the punishment he'd endured when Keith dragged him back to the apartment. Nobody wanted to hear it and Rip didn't want to talk about it.

"I belong to him, Allie. There's nothing you could do."

"Don't talk like that." Allie glowered at Rip through the screen. "You don't belong to anybody. You belong to yourself and don't you dare let that creep Keith tell you otherwise!"

Mik bit his lower lip softly. Oh no. RIp was starting to sound like the victim of domestic abuse. The way he seemed so resigned, saying that he belonged to someone was a sure sign of that. Plus now everything made more sense—the hesitance he showed when he spoke of his partner, that Keith person, and the reluctant way he said that he had something going on at home...

Did Keith hurt him? Mik's arm curled around Rip's waist protectively. Was that why Rip had no phone, either? No way to call for help? Keith was isolating him—another sign of a domestic abuser! Maybe Allie saw him being abused and tried to stop it, and that was how he got hurt! That seemed more in line with what Mik knew of Allie than him being romantically interested in Rip...

"Once I get better, I'm taking you back." Allie still looked grim, but then his expression softened. "Rip, listen... I know lots of weird things are happening right now, but we'll get through this, okay? I'll help you. I'm going to save you."

"...I'll help too!" Mik piped up—he couldn't stand by doing nothing! That wasn't his way! "If—if someone's hurting Rip, I'm going to help too! Domestic abuse is not okay!"

"But I..."

He did belong to Keith. Without Keith, he wouldn't even exist, as such. Plus, his sigil was firmly tagged onto his lower back. A tramp stamp, Keith called it, because he was Keith's little tramp. There was a sigil on his head, too, but it was invisible. It was the mark that made him a golem, part of the golem spell. Whenever Keith searched for him, it was there that he felt the tug on the mana in his body. Across the forehead.

"No, no. You don't--there's nothing to save me from. I'm... I serve my function."

And that was what he was created to do. His purpose. HIs driving force. And he did it well. It was really the only skill he knew for sure he even had, although he tried a variety of other things. Cooking, cleaning, sharpening Keith's knives, whatever task the others didn't want to perform.

But they viewed him as something more than a tool performing a function. And it made him feel... sadder than ever. Happy, but so sad. They wanted so badly to protect him but they had no way of doing that. They couldn't... If the creator was killed, so was Rip. And if they took him away from Keith, then Keith could just take his brand off and he would become nothing but a useless, unmoving, soulless lump of living clay.

"...you can't save me."

"Bullshit. You didn't give up on me and I'm never giving up on you! I don't care if you're Jack or Rip or Skippy the Happy Burger mascot, you're my friend and you need my help, and I'm not quitting." Allie's voice was firm, ringing with resolve even through the speakers of his phone. "I'll find a way to get you away from that asshole if I have to call in the entire precinct of New York city and the SWAT team, goddamnit."

Well that sounded like it was going too far to Mik, but he understood the sentiment. Seeing Rip so sad and hearing his tiny voice telling them that it was hopeless, that just about broke his heart. He slid a hand into Rip's, the one not holding on to the little kitten. "Rip, you have to let us help you. We can't just let you suffer, when we know that guy's treating you badly. There's always a way."

He squeezed Rip's hand gently. "Besides, you have friends now! You have us! We'll find a way to help you. Trust us. We'll find a way—three brains are better than one, right?"

That wasn't me, he wanted to cry out. It wasn't him that didn't give up on Allie. That was somebody else. Jack. A person--the person he was based on. The person he was a pale photocopy of. An imitation. Not a very good one, either, despite how desperately this Allie person was hanging onto him. Once he realized he wasn't Jack, he was really going to be disgusted with himself. All this effort for a nobody!

"...I...I don't think there is."

But he wouldn't know, would he? How would he know if there was a way? Because if there was one, Keith never would have told him. All he did was threaten him with the ways he could take away what life he had given him. And it was his right, wasn't it? If he was the one who created him, it made sense that he could take it all away... if he wanted to... even if Rip didn't want him to.

He looked at Mik, whose hand in his was reassuring. His gaze pleaded with him.

"I'm not Jack," he said to Mik because Mik seemed to at least understand that. And it was an important distinction because what helped Jack didn't necessarily help Rip.

Mik didn't know who Jack was or why Allie insisted on calling Rip Jack. Maybe a twin? Maybe someone who looked so much like Rip that he refused to believe it wasn't him? Regardless, it upset Rip to be called Jack, Mik could see that. But also if Allie really believed that Rip was his friend Jack, then of course only hard proof would change his mind.

But somehow Mik thought that even if Rip wasn't Allie's friend, he would still help. Allie wasn't a fair weather friend—and he was a cop, so it was his job to protect people, wasn't it? Just like how Mik took it upon himself to rescue strays, because he worked at the shelter and he was in it to help poor abandoned and mistreated animals.

When Rip turned to him, Mik shifted closer. "You're Rip. Not Jack," he affirmed, because if Rip said he was Rip, then Mik believed him. "I'm here to help and support Rip." Whoever Jack was, he was lucky to have a staunch friend like Allie but Mik only ever knew Rip. He was Rip's friend. Not Jack's. "We'll find a way to help you, Rip," he said again because it seemed like Rip was still doubtful. Victims of abuse often thought they had less power than they actually did—it was Mik's job (and Allie's) to empower him to see otherwise.

Speaking of Allie though... he was awfully quiet. Mik looked over at the screen and let out a low noise. It looked like Allie had... fallen asleep! Or he hoped so! He hoped Allie wasn't dead...! But upon closer inspection, he saw Allie's chest moving. "He's exhausted, I think. I'll hang up, we can talk to him another time, now that we know he's okay." Mik hung up and slipped the phone into his pocket.

"I believe you. You're Rip. Not Jack."

Somebody who believed him. Not that he didn't have a handful of people who knew the distinction but... Mik was different. He was a lover of animals and he helped them when they were in trouble. Not... that Rip was an animal and he hoped he wasn't viewed that way... but he guessed being seen as an animal was a step up from being seen as an object. No. He knew that it was.

He smiled, even if it was a small smile. Rip. Not Jack. This was important. Not just because he didn't want to be mistaken as Jack but because... seriously, it wouldn't help to treat him like Jack in this situation. If... if they really wanted to help.

"Oh... he... yeah, he..." He closed his eyes, trying to remember exactly what Keith did to him. "I think he corrupted him. But he didn't hold him long enough to kill him."

He tried to get a better look at the sleeping form in the phone screen but he couldn't get a good look at the arm, where he recalled Allie being touched. But it had just been the arm, hadn't it? Blight was bad no matter where it was but it would be so much worse if it had reached his face, seeping into his mind... He seemed fine, though, if exhausted. Corruption seemed to do that, though. It drained the person of their energy and gave it to the Fallen.

With the phone slipped away, it was just Mik and Rip and... the kitten, who was sleeping so soundly. It must have been a baby animal thing. Or a baby anything. Babies slept a lot, did they not? Rip gently massaged her little head with his thumb so he didn't have to let go of Mik's hand.

"I'm Rip," he repeated with a nod. "Not Jack. Jack is a fairy. Rip is a golem. These things are very different.... do you understand?"

"I..."

No. That was a hard no. He started getting lost at 'corrupted Allie' and now there were things about fairies and golems, and Mik had distinct mental images of both, but they didn't make sense in the context of this conversation. Fairies were sparkly flying little winged creatures about two or three inches tall, and they knew magic and were usually female. Golems were big tough things made from rocks or some other material, with rough-hewn faces, lurching around obeying their masters. That last one Mik took away from a video game he played one time, where he could make golems.

So how could a sparkly fairy be taken for a rocky golem?

"Ah! Yes—yes I see what you're saying Rip!" It was an analogy! Of course! The two were completely different and so if Jack was like a fairy and Rip was like a golem, well obviously they weren't comparable! Rip was trying to highlight the differences with an obscure comparison! That was okay though, Mik understood him in the end. He nodded, smiling at Rip. "I agree. You're completely different from Jack. A fairy and a golem, I mean—obviously they're not the same things! I totally get it, Rip." He lightly swung Rip's hand, that was still in his. It felt nice—sweet. Holding hands was kiddy stuff but sometimes... well sometimes kiddy stuff still felt pretty nice.

"Between you and me, I'd take a Rip golem over a Jack fairy any day!"

For a moment, he thought he didn't understand him and the dismay was written all over his eyes. But then after some thinking--why did it take thinking?--Mik seemed to understand. A slow smile appeared across his face and let out a low laugh of relief.

"Oh good! You understand..."

A fairy and a golem were nothing alike, even if they looked alike. Their inner workings were different. Killing Keith would help a fairy, because he could no longer be corrupted by him! But killing Keith would not help his golems because it would instantly kill the golems! And Jack the fairy didn't have to obey any orders but Rip the golem did. And they could be horrifying orders. Devastating orders.

The situation was delicate, that's what he wanted them to understand. Relieved that the understanding seemed to be there, he felt like a whole load was off his shoulders. He didn't know what kind of plan they could concoct armed with that information but... he hoped they could do something with it.

He looked at their linked hands swinging and he smiled, feeling strangely shy at that admission.

"Oh. Most people prefer the fairy. They're still people, after all."

"Fairies get all the love but I think they're over-rated!" Mik laughed--he felt silly talking about fairies and golems... One was definitely not like the other! But why did Rip think he was a golem? He could be a fairy--he could be sparkly and shiny and the center of attention. He could be loved--even beloved. Mik thought... it was Keith. Keith was putting him down, telling him he wasn't worth it, that he was the golem and someone else was the fairy. His confidence was so low that he couldn't even see himself as a fairy anymore...

Well not on Mik's watch! Or Allie's! No way! Rip wasn't a golem. He was a fairy. Maybe he lost his sparkle and his shine in this moment, but that didn't mean it was gone forever. Confidence could be built up again; the bad things in his life could be thrown out with a few helping hands. Leaning in, he kissed Rip's cheek softly, because of that shy little smile on his lips and the way he looked down.

"Golems are special too, in their own way. Just because most people like fairies, doesn't mean there aren't golem-appreciating folks out there too! And I. Like. Golems."

Fairies got all the love? Did they? Were they over-rated...? Was that a thing a person could be? Rip didn't know what to make of that opinion. Rip didn't dislike fairies but maybe he made it sound that way. He liked them just fine. It was just that they weren't golems. They were different, fundamentally. But there were plenty of nice fairies. Raphael was the only one he knew personally but if he existed, others existed, too!

Oh. Rip blinked once, frozen. Did he just kiss his... cheek? It was so unbearably... cute that it melted his heart just like looking at the kitten did. Like for a second, his limbs felt weak and his heart felt full and skipped a beat. It took him a moment to even find the courage to look back up.

He searched Mik's gaze for some kind of mischief, some kind of jest, but he seemed awfully serious about it. He... he liked golems? It was such a strange thing to like. To even admit to liking. Keith liked them, of course. It was one of his best skills, one of the reasons the King liked him so much. But Keith was selfish; he wasn't just going to help the King when he could help himself, too.

Did... Mik make golems, too? Or did he just... was he really just a... golem appreciating... folk?

"Why?" he asked, because the curiosity got the better of him. It was so strange that he couldn't wrap his head around it. Not just a fairies versus golem thing. Just appreciating golems in general.

Whaaaaa? Did he go too far? Rip wasn't even looking at him after Mik kissed him, and... maybe he didn't like the cheesy thing Mik said? Did he take that analogy too far? (Or... not far enough?!) Mik's confidence was a little shaken and he was about to apologize when Rip looked up. And oddly as their eyes met, Mik knew--somehow--that his actions hadn't offended Rip.

Rip was just surprised by the kiss. He might not have expected it. Maybe... he didn't think somebody of Mik's age would be interested in him? That was nothing on him, and Mik didn't think he was old-old... But Mik did tend to date within his age range. People expected that. However, he couldn't help how he felt and he felt...

His stomach kept swooping when they made eye-contact. He couldn't get Rip out of his mind and he was never more than a thought away. The few times Rip smiled, the sound of his shy laugh, they kept replaying in his mind. Damn if he didn't get giddy the second he saw Rip and he kept looking for excuses to touch him and be near him, even when he thought that he didn't have a chance in hell to get somebody like Rip to look seriously at him.

He felt a couple of things, yeah.

"Why do I like golems? Or why do I like... you?" His turn to look down now, smiling at their feet, abashed. Gah spilling his guts to someone holding a cute kitten was murder! "I don't know. I just do. It's just a feeling I get when I think of you."

Oh.
Well.
Rip didn't think of it like that. Whether Mik liked golems in particular or just... Rip, who happened to be a golem. Aha... he was using clever wording. Flirting. Rip smiled, that childish but sly smile, like a kid who knew they got away with taking a cookie from the cookie jar. Now he got it. Not golems. Just Rip. It didn't matter that he was a golem because somehow, Mik saw past that... to... a person.

That must have been what he meant about the fairies, too. They weren't overrated. They just weren't... him. With the baby kitten curled up, warm and snuggled in his palm, he stepped in closer and with his free hand, he touched Mik's face. Stroked his cheek, stopped at his chin. With his little magic stone heart beating what felt like miles and miles a second, he broke the distance between them and kissed Mik. Mouth to mouth, a gentle, questing kiss, hesitantly parting lips to deepen the kiss after another several heartbeats.

Yeah...

He said those things with his own mouth.

Was that not the most cliched thing ever though? Like something cheesy somebody would post in instagram with roses and hearts just so they could look cool and get a couple of likes? It totally sounded cheesy but he meant it! If he never meant anything ever again, he meant what he said in that moment--whatever Rip was, Mik didn't care. Golem, troll, fairy godmother, he just liked the guy. The guy who wore his too-tight kitten t-shirt with a coat over it, and somehow still managed to look cute! The guy with the shy smile, and that--that--not-so-shy smile.

But most of all, Mik liked his heart. His soft heart which led to him rescuing two dozen goldfish, the one that made him hold the little kitten so tenderly and carefully that no one could claim he was anything but kind and good. Rip was a good guy, and Mik liked that about him. He looked up when he saw Rip's feet moving closer, brows lifting in surprise when Rip touched him with that meaningful smile...

Ah. Ooh. A kiss. It started slow and then progressed the way kisses usually did. Mik held his hand tighter, at first nervous but then easing into it and opening up to him. He hummed softly in the back of his throat, and then the little kitten woke up and mewed and startled him. It was all so quiet just now, so peaceful and nice... Mik laughed as the kitten tried to climb up Rip's vest to get to his... face? That handsome face though!

"Ahem. Maybe we should... feed them? I think it's close to feeding time." He leaned in to peck Rip on the lips though, grinning foolishly. "We can continue that later." Wink. Wink.

Mik's smile was big and silly and happy. It lifted Rip's heart. He smiled back, then realized that they weren't just standing there smiling at each other like dopes.

"Oh!" He looked down at the poor baby kitten, who was now clambering up his chest, letting out little mews that grew louder and more intense. He laughed as he peeled her off his shoulder before she ended up climbing right off him.

"I think so, too... She sounds hangry!"

And she was, too, insistently mewing at them and putting her claws out as if she could battle them for a morsel of food. Or milk. Kittens this little were still on milk, were they not? He looked up at Mik.

"Is the... mom cat back yet?" He hadn't even been paying attention to the world around them. Then he saw past Mik and saw Shelby, whose lips were poised in a little line, like she wasn't very happy.

"Isn't that your aunt...?"

"She does sound hangry! Aww poor little baby!" Mik couldn't stop grinning. Rip was grinning too, though, and the two of them were just silly and goofy and it felt so nice to... to have somebody who liked him that way again. Mik wasn't really desperately lacking in the romance department but he was kinda young, and the dates he went on were just silly things that didn't really go anywhere, because everyone else his age was experimenting too. Nobody wanted to be tied down that much, which was fine and normal.

But he wanted somebody to like him the way he liked Rip. He wanted a relationship, just to see what it was like to have a boyfriend. (Nineteen and he'd never had a boyfriend!) Rip was mature and... and interested. The age difference didn't bother Mik because he was more about the feelings and less about the logistics or the appearances. Besides, Rip was dead gorgeous and who wouldn't want to be the one that caught his eye?!

"I think mom's going to be out for a few days post-surgery, but we have kitten milk. Just have to warm it up a little, so it's not that harsh on their... tummies..." He turned to see Aunt Shelby looking as stern as he'd ever seen her. Mik's eyes widened. Oh crap! Did she see them kissing? Aunt Shelby knew Mik liked guys and she accepted that, so... it wasn't that he kissed a guy.

"Mik honey, can I speak with you for a moment?"

"Uhh... but we were going to feed the kittens..." He smiled like he'd gotten his hand caught in the cookie jar. "After? Aunt Shel?"

"...all right. I'll be in the dog kennels." She turned to leave and after the door closed, Mik let out a loud, long sigh.

"Oh boy! She did not look happy did she?"

Kitten milk! Rip knew what that meant! They were feeding kittens! Rip had never done it and neither had Jack in his set of memories but it was something he wanted to do. Feed a hangry kitten! Especially his little girl. (He really had quite taken with her...) He lifted her up and booped her nose with his own nose and she swung a paw at him. He laughed aloud.

"Don't worry, baby girl, we'll feed you~"

It was easier to focus on her than on the angry face of Mik's aunt. But when she left, Rip's gaze followed her out and his heart jumped guiltily. She was nice before Rip met Mik, so he had a gut feeling it was him she didn't like for some reason. Lowering the kitten and holding her close--to the crook of his neck--he watched Mik deflate.

"No," he admitted. She definitely didn't look happy. "Should I... should I leave, Mik?"

"What? Leave? No way!"

Never! Rip had as much of a right to stay as anybody—except that Keith guy—and Mik wasn't letting him go now! In fact he hung on to Rip as he pulled him over to a little table and shelf full of supplies. "She's just... a little protective, that's all. I think once she gets to know you, she'll like you just as much as I do." But not more, because Mik liked Rip a whole heck of a lot!

Putting the uncomfortable situation aside for the moment, he pulled a carton of kitten milk off the shelf. There was a microwave nearby that he used to warm it (after pouring it into a clean glass first) and then he drew out two blunt-end syringes. Filling both with warmed milk, he handed one to Rip. "Put it to her mouth and gently squeeze out a few drops. Once she gets the idea, you can give her a little more, Rip. Here I'll show you."

Mik walked back to scoop up another mewling kitten, an orange one. Holding it against his chest, he lightly guided its head to the mouth of the syringe and once it scented and tasted the milk, it was greedily lapping it up.

Well, leaving seemed like the thing to do, what with Mik's aunt looking at him like she really regretted ever talking to him. He wondered what he'd done wrong in between the time he'd met her and when he met Mik. Sigh. Well, maybe she didn't like golems. He didn't know how she knew but some people just did. Keith told him to be wary of those people. (He also told him to silence them but...)

Looking nervously away from where Shelby was standing, Rip concentrated on the milk. He watched how Mik did it with an orange cat, then nodded to himself. He could do that. Slowly, he took a seat on one of the cheap little rockers in the room, probably meant for this exact task. Still holding the kitten on its belly like Mik showed him, he held the syringe carefully toward the kitten's mouth.

She knew exactly what it was immediately. As soon as the milk touched her lips the first time, she was drinking greedily. Rip smiled and laughed, looking up at Mik.

"She's doing it! She's a really hungry one, isn't she?" Well, they probably all were. That was how babies worked, right? They were always hungry?

"They're always hungry!" Mik laughed as he finished feeding the first one, and then plopped it back into the pen so that he could pick up another little hungry kitten to feed. "She trusts you though! She'll grow up big and strong if she keeps eating like that!"

With a second kitten in hand, he went to sit beside Rip. Mik leaned against him as he fed the eager kitten, making sure that it swallowed each mouthful before giving it more, so as not to accidentally cause it to choke. "Hey Rip. Don't feel bad about Aunt Shelby." The outside of his knee tapped the outside of Rip's lightly; he smiled over at Rip. "I know she doesn't hate you or anything. I'll talk to her later, and everything's going to be fine."

He couldn't exactly regret the kiss. Rip's partner was a jerk and he didn't deserve him anyway, so it wasn't even like he was being cheated on. He plain shouldn't treat people that way! Mik paused to nuzzle against Rip affectionately, not unlike the way the kitten was nuzzling into his hand, trying to urge him to continue feeding it. "Let's go see your fish after this!"

The little kitten would probably eat until she busted if they gave her half a chance. But she seemed happy, to be warm and well fed. It made Rip happy to see her happy. And peaceful, too. Like if this was his sole purpose in his life, he could rest easy.

He looked over at Mik as he joined him. The rocker being quite small for two men, they were sitting together very... closely. Rip didn't mind. Like the kitten, he liked the feeling of being touched, of being warmed by another person's body heat. It was maybe the one thing he didn't hate about his life when Keith was home, when he was asleep and he just... held him. Even if Rip's mind wandered elsewhere, the creature comforts were still there. Sometimes.

Briefly, he half smiled, then looked back down at the kitten as she finished off her syringe. The nuzzle was cute. Mik was cute. There was no denying that but...

"Don't throw away your relationship with her over me, though," he said softly. "Okay?"

He wiggled the empty syringe at the kitten as she shoved her head into his palm. "It's empty, see? Nothing left. You don't want to eat too much or you'll get sick..." He glanced over at Mik. "Are they all doing well? ...I hope some of them found homes already. Good homes."

That was... very, very nice of Rip to say that. It was incredibly thoughtful. Mik focused on the kitten in his hand and feeding it for a long moment, thinking about what Rip was saying—the message, the intent. Rip... wanted to pursue this too, didn't he? That was what he meant, in a roundabout way. Not to throw away his relationship with his aunt over him...

"You're worth fighting for," Mik said eventually, not looking up at him. But he was smiling, just down at the kitten. "But Aunt Shelby wouldn't disown me or anything. She'll disapprove for a couple of weeks, but I think once she gets to really know you, she'll see that you're actually a good guy, and... not out to take advantage of me."

Besides, Mik was old enough to make his own decisions! He wasn't getting big-headed thinking that he was all that, and soooo mature, but he also knew that he had to make his own decisions in love and life, and to learn from mistakes that happened. He wasn't being hard-headed; he gave it a lot of thought on his own already. But anyone who talked to Rip for half a minute could see that he wasn't a scumbag. He was vulnerable, being taken advantage of himself; he wouldn't turn around and do that to Mik.

"Ah—actually a friend of mine said he'd take three or four! His little brother wants a few too, so they're coming by to pick some out. But Queenie, I'm still looking for a good home for her. I've asked all my friends, just waiting to hear back from them!"

Rip shook his head. No matter what Mik thought he was saying, of this, he knew was true. It was not worth fighting with his family over him. It wasn't worth losing family over him, even if Mik liked golems. Family... Mik was very lucky to have it. And it should come first. He laughed softly at the idea of him taking advantage of somebody. He wasn't even sure if he had the ability to do so. What would he even be taking advantage of...? The... kitten? Hm. Maybe he could. He half frowned at himself.

But then, good news! Rip looked up. "So many!" he said in awe. Already that many were lined up for homes. It felt like what he had done made some kind of difference. And that warmed his heart more than Mik could ever know. Keith said he would never make a difference in the world. But he was wrong. And that... somehow gave him a kind of courage he didn't even know he had.

"She has to go to somebody extra special," Rip declared. "But I bet anybody who sees her will love her. She's that kind of fish."

Immediately noticeable. Pretty. Flashy. But she was stuck alone in that bowl. And now... she was in an aquarium with others!

"Should we look at them? I think this little one's finished." She was trying to clean herself but really just rolling ineffectually around, too small to get the job done on her own.

"She's so stately! Royalty for sure!" Queenie was a beautiful goldfish, and she would make a wonderful addition to any tank! Mik was trying hard to find them all good homes with people he personally knew and trusted. That meant it may take some time but in the end, putting in all that hard work would be worth it, especially just to see Rip so happy. Mik was doing this for the fish but also for Rip, and for himself too! Everyone deserved a good home, regardless of whether they were fish or golem!

He stood up nodding. "Yep! Let's go take a look at them!" Mik kissed the top of the fluffy kitten's head before placing it back into the pen, where it gambolled and rolled around with the others, glad to be reunited. He could come back later to make sure they went potty and that nobody threw up their meal. Sometimes it took a little while for the food to settle—or to come back up.

Taking Rip's hand again, he led him down the long hallway. Some rooms were offices; others led to kennels and cages and pens, and yet others were examination rooms. They had a vet come in twice a week to look at sick animals, and several assistants popped in and out during the day to take shifts cleaning and looking after the animals. But at the very end of the hallway was that big inner office where he'd parked Cori, with the comfy couch and the fish tank. Except when he opened the door, there was no Cori!

"Oh—he's gone!" Cori's coat wasn't there anymore. He'd left one mitten, though, which laid on the couch. Huh. "I left a friend in here, but I guess he left." Mik shook his head; hopefully Cori was on the way home, back to Lieve now. "Look! See, they're all doing really well! I even bought them some plants and that purple castle. Doesn't that look nice?"

Even when she was gone, Rip lightly touched the place where she'd been, as if she'd left an indelible mark on him. He smiled to himself. Because she did. Maybe he would never see her again. Maybe only in photos on a phone he'd buy secretly on his way home... But if she went somewhere better, he would never regret knowing her. Or Mik, for that matter.

He glanced at Mik as he took his hand and led him down a hallway. This all seemed so natural to Mik. Holding hands, sitting close, nuzzling. He was still thinking about all that when they stopped. Mik's friend had apparently up and left. But... Rip's brow furrowed slightly and his hand tightened on Mik's for a moment. The sigil on his back ached.

"...yes," he said distractedly to Mik but instead of going over to the beautiful tankful of goldfish, he moved to the place where somebody's mitten was still sitting on a couch. He picked it up.

"Did this belong to your friend?" he asked tonelessly.

"Hm? Oh, yeah! Cori's always leaving things, and we're always picking up after him." He was exasperated but fond. Cori didn't mean to be a scatter-brain, and he was always very thankful to have his belongings returned to him. But what was with that tone? Mik wandered back to Rip's side, having gone over to the tank under the impression that Rip would follow!

"Everything okay? You look kind of... pale, Rip." He touched Rip's wrist. "Do you need to sit down?"

"Keith's been here."

Did... he know that Rip was here? Was this some kind of message? Why would he want anything to do with Mik's friend? Rip tried to remember if Rip followed him when he took off. But he hadn't been there. If he had, he would have been with Allie when Allie... got hurt.

There was no trace of corruption in the air but there was magic. Keith had used magic here; his sigil was reacting to the traces of it that still lingered. Swallowing hard, he looked around, turned on his heel, looked behind them, everywhere, as if he would find Keith standing there with that smirk and those cold eyes. But he wasn't here... now.

"Does your friend know him?" he asked. "Does he have a phone? Please call him. But not with the... the video. He might see me."

"What?" Mik immediately looked around as though he thought Keith was going to pop out from behind the couch. He didn't even know what Keith looked like! Urgently he took Rip's hand again, still glancing around. "How do you know he was here? I—no, Cori wouldn't know somebody like that! We have the same friend group, so—"

He pulled out his phone in a hurry. Something in Rip's tone spelled urgency and he didn't want to argue now. Everything else could be hammered out later; Rip could explain how he knew Keith had been here later. He wasn't joking around right now judging by the look in his eyes—mingled fear, bemusement, serious concern. Mik dialled Cori's number and put it on speaker as he stepped closer to Rip. A low shiver slid up and down his spine; Cori wasn't picking up.

"He might be. On the bus or something. Maybe he doesn't hear his phone." Mik looked around again. "Are you sure... Keith was here? We would've heard the front bell ring if anyone came in..."

No sign of a phone nearby. He hadn't left it behind like the mitten. Rip frowned, following the scent of magic. Like Jack... he could scent it. Keith's scent wasn't wholly unpleasant. It was a strong scent, though. Sharp, clear mint with a hint of something metallic, and heat. It was unmistakably his scent. Rip closed his eyes. Outside. They went outside. He went to the door.

And he made a small motion with his hand--a spell to stop the bell from making a sound as the doors slid open for him.

"...like that?"

He stepped outside, into the rain. It was still chilly outside and the rain was coming down pretty hard. Raising a hand to shield his eyes, he looked up and he could see that the sky was almost as dark as night. The storm had really rolled in over them with no signs of letting up any time soon.

"Keith has him." But why? He didn't understand why. Why some random friend of a person that Rip was interested in? Was this some kind of game to him? Keith... Keith did so love his games. But why play them with a golem that he could just kill with a flick of the wrist? It didn't make sense.

"Wha—" The bell didn't ring! They went past the sensor but it made no sound. Was it broken? Was that how Keith got in and out? Why didn't Cori yell? Why didn't he make any noise if somebody came and literally kidnapped him right from under Rip and Mik's noses? And Aunt Shelby, she didn't seem to have heard or seen anything either, because she would have said something earlier.

Aunt Shelby...! Mik looked around, startled. "Aunt Shel! She—do you think she's okay?" He brought up his phone again, having hung up on Cori after calling about four times in a row, and dialed up his aunt. To his relief she answered and Mik hastily babbled something about going out for supplies. "Stay inside Aunt Shel! It's raining too hard for you to go out! I'll be back soon!"

He ran outside, eyes narrowed against the rain. "Rip! What—Keith got Cori? Why? Cori has nothing to do with this! And—" He stopped short when a man walked out of the rain, with a hood drawn over his face. He was tall and lean and he looked like a freaking Terminator, to be perfectly honest. When he came up to them he pulled down the hood and the first thing Mik saw were eyes like chips of ice.

"Ripper. You will take me to Keith immediately," the new guy said tonelessly.

"...I don't know..."

He didn't know why. If he did, he would surely not be here now. Because if this was about him... But it could not be. It wasn't about Rip. He'd become shameless when covered in sweet words from people who treated him like a person. The thing was, Keith wouldn't. He didn't see him as a person. Even if he liked games, he wouldn't bother playing them with an object.

So... why...

There had to be another reason. Rip didn't have enough information and Keith didn't talk to him about his work, what he was doing, who he was chasing around or hunting while he was here. And with no Rhys around, he wasn't talking to Rhys, either. There was nothing to eavesdrop on. Did this... have something to do with Rhys? And why he hadn't come home yet?

Rip's thoughts stalled when a familiar form made itself known. He opened his mouth, but he wasn't sure why, because what was he about to say? No? Or why? Rip wasn't supposed to ask questions. He lowered his gaze.

"He went..." He followed the magic and it left the shelter. Oh. He was going home. With Cori? That didn't... why? "We have to wait for the bus."

Who was that guy? What was going on? Mik slowly reached for Rip, clinging to him in his uncertainty. His fingers closed around Rip's vest, tugging gently. "Rip? What's going on?"

The Terminator-looking guy with his too-perfect black hair and scary blank eyes turned to look at Mik as if seeing him for the first time. Or—no. As if noticing him for the first time, because Mik had been here all along and he simply never acknowledged it. "The human is not necessary. Get rid of him." His voice was still expressionless, if that was possible. Cold. Stiff.

"Excuse me, get rid of who? My friend is missing!" If anyone wasn't necessary, it was this guy!

"I don't know."

Big help he was right now. He didn't know anything. He didn't know why Keith was involving himself with Mik's friend, he didn't know why the other golem showed up, he didn't know why anything was happening the way it was happening.

"I..." He wished he could say he would call him but he never got that phone. Maybe he never would. But he turned to Mik and smiled at him as reassuringly as he could and he touched his hand. He wished he could also tell him that he'd let him know if his friend was okay but he honestly... he didn't know how he could do that without a phone or a telepathic connection.

"I'll try to find him and send him back to you," was what he finally settled with. "You don't want to come with us. Keith... you don't want to come with us," he said again, not even wanting to go down that road with poor Mik. Then he moved away and gestured for the other to follow him in the rain, down the pathway that led to the street. The bus stop was close by. He slid his gaze over. How the hell did he get here, though? Bus?

Someone had bungled their job very badly and Pax had to come clean up the mess for him. The King was extremely unhappy. The entire kingdom felt it; the skies had been dark for weeks, moody gray clouds lashing harsh rain down upon everyone and everything, flooding the streets. Thunder and lightning habitually boomed and flashed, indicative of the King's sour mood.

What was meant to be a simple retrieval mission now had turned into one of recovery. They had to cut their losses, unfortunately, when it became apparent that two of his sons were beyond saving. One had been tangled up with a hunter—not an issue as far as hunters went, but his heart was lost to love. The other... If Keith hadn't taken his sweet time about it, they might have gotten to Jack Ripley in time.

And now Rhys had fallen off the radar. Someone had shielded him with a spell or a charm, making it impossible to track him. Pax had to physically come out here and assess the situation for himself—with the King naturally seeing everything through his eyes. He stood in the rain staring at the human, who persisted in clinging to the golem known as Ripper. His resemblance to Jack Ripley was, of course, impossible to miss. Another of Keith's bungling mishaps. This one could have been useful in diverting the sixth fae prince, Brayden, away from the real Jack Ripley but Keith chose instead to fuck around with him.

"Rip, no! I have to come with you! Cori's my friend!" He stepped after Rip, holding on to his hand. "I can help. I have to—"

Pax held up a hand, then clenched his fingers tight. The human let out a sharp gasp, a breathless one, and immediately crumpled to the ground. He twitched in the mud, clutching at his heart. Pax eyed him disdainfully. Pah. A mere human.

"Take me to Keith," he said again, coldly. "The King is extremely displeased and will not be kept waiting any longer."

"Mik!"

Of course he went back to check on him. Was he still... alive? He touched his chest, where he was clutching at it when he fell to the ground.

"What did you do to him?"

He looked up at the golem. Not only did he hurt his new friend but he was... He was also very determined to see Keith. Because... the king was displeased. The king. Was displeased. Oh. Again, Rip looked down at Mik. He had no idea what Keith was thinking or what he was doing but...

KEITH! No, no, he didn't like that. Only in public, where people could hear them. MASTER! The king's sent somebody after you I think he's an assassin! The words all jumbled together as he sent them through their psychic line. But not wanting to look suspicious, Rip slowly rose up from where he was checking on Mik. He was still breathing. He only hoped that somebody would find him before something more happened to him... and the longer he stayed here beside him... Rip would only cause pain.

"The bus," he said again, marching toward it, expressionless even though inside, he felt just like the storm around them. "It'll take us there."

"The human. Is unnecessary."

Pax looked dispassionately down at the writhing human. He had no feelings either way towards him. Mik, as Ripper called him. Their business simply didn't involve him and when he refused to back down, Pax took him out. He didn't kill the human because that was also unnecessary, but he incapacitated him long enough that he would not become a liability or a hindrance.

Ripper saw fit to obey him, which was wise. Pax followed him down the slight hill towards the bus stop without a second glance over his shoulder. He vaguely heard a woman's cry behind him, indicating that someone had come outside and had found the human. He would be fine within the hour. Perhaps. That was no longer Pax's concern; the King wished to find Keith and interrogate him.

"Keith will transfer ownership of you to me." Pax's tone was even and matter-of-fact. "You will become my golem, and I will assign you to a new task. My name is Paxton Ames. I am the Second Golem General of the Kingdom of the Fallen. You may refer to me as Pax, for the time that we are in this realm."

It took everything inside Rip to not look back. If Shelby didn't like him before, she must really hate his guts now... But this was for the best. Rip knew, deep down, that Mik was never for him. No human ever would be. Nobody else in the world, in fact, except Keith, because that was why he was made, of course...

He tried not to think about it. About the kiss and the kitten and the goldfish and the promised photographs. But it panged hard in his chest and he was glad that it was raining because the pang was making him emotional. Something he was not supposed to be. He was supposed to be more like the Keith golem or this golem. But the soul particle inside of him was too shiny and soft.

"I hear you, Pax."

Keith told him to say that when he spoke to him; he hated it when he said something to him and he didn't say anything back, like he understood or yes sir or I hear you. Something like that. Meanwhile, he was desperately throwing more messages down the psychic pipeline. DO YOU HEAR ME? MASTER? Radio silence. Rip stood at the bus stop when they arrived, perfectly still, but feeling horrified and confused.

What would he do in the possession of another golem? Was that even possible? He'd never heard of it before; a golem owning a golem. Was he not a golem? But he said that he was. He had a title and everything. Rip didn't look at him. Keith didn't like him looking directly at him unless he forced him to do so. For some reason, Keith liked it better that way, when he wouldn't look at him unless he told him to.

I heard you, stop fucking screaming into my head, Keith finally snarled back. Rip closed his eyes in relief. Fuck. Finally. Despite everything, he felt relief in not having to think, in just taking his orders.

So what do I do, Master? He wants me to take him to you.

Well fucking don't.

Rip edged a very slow, very wary side eye at Pax.

He says he's taking me and assigning me a new task, Master.

The FUCK he is. Who the fuck is he? Let me see. Look at him.

Rip again slowly looked in Pax's direction, to which a string of curses were released. Then, You know where I am.

And then it was silence again. Rip didn't know what that meant but when he asked, Keith didn't answer until the bus showed up and stopped in front of them in a rush of belching and hissing. Bring him here. Rip nodded slightly. Then he stepped onto the bus and deposited the money--he'd learned how to use a bus by now. He glanced at Pax, not sure if he knew how to use the bus or not. Assuming not, he paid his fare too, then found a seat in the back, squeezing himself next to the window with a sinking feeling.

"I trust you know what to do, Pax," the King said simply as he stood in his chambers, looking out over his rainswept kingdom with a grim expression. Hands clasped behind his back, he struck an intimidating figure.

"Yes your highness." Pax bowed low at the waist. "Will I eliminate or punish?"

The King gave that some thought, and then a soft smile twisted his lips upward. "Surprise me."

Eliminate or punish? Pax had given that quite a lot of thought, as he was granted a large degree of freedom while out here to deal with Keith Hargrove. The King trusted him to save what was left of this mission, and Pax knew that to disappoint the King was not only a death sentence, but it was a mark of great shame. To have been personally created by him and to let him down, that was the worst thing a golem could have happen to them.

That brought his thoughts to Ripper, who was subdued and treating him like he was a poisonous snake, ready to strike at any given moment. Ripper's purpose was somewhat obvious. It was a waste, because he had the core of a prince inside of him; he could have done such great things with the power he had nestled inside of his stone heart. And yet Keith was merely using him for physical gratification.

That was why even some Fallen were inferior to golems.

Yes, that was right—Fallen could be inferior to a well-crafted, perfectly efficient golem.

As they sat at the back of the bus, which noisily rumbled off down the street, Pax turned to Ripper. His gaze was curious, but not impolite. "In your opinion, do Keith's actions warrant elimination or punishment?" Aware that Ripper may be communicating with Keith—in fact, he was betting on it—Pax nevertheless posed the question of him. Because he was a fellow golem, and his station had just been elevated. Ripper knew the most out of anyone here, what Keith had been up to while he wasn't carrying out the King's orders. Therefore his input was valuable, to an extent.

"You may speak freely. Keith will not deactivate you." Not unless he wanted to tip the scales in favor of elimination.

In his... opinion? Dangerous territory there. Golems had opinions. The ones with souls, anyway. There were golems without souls tied to them. They were used mostly for mundane tasks that didn't require thought. But golems with souls... they weren't just robots. Souls were what made a creature complex. Rip couldn't pretend to know why Keith chose to give him a soul. It wasn't required for his purpose.

But Keith was there. Sort of. Even though Pax said he could speak freely, there was always the chance that Keith would tune in at just the wrong moment. And besides which, the question was rather vague. Keith's actions... could be anything. Keith acted on a lot of things. Which actions warranted punishment or elimination? And what golem would ever say elimination if it meant their creator would die...?

He supposed one that had the option of having a new... owner. But in this case... better the devil he knew? At least Rip knew Keith and what he could do to him. Pax... Pax was a wildcard. And he could be worlds worse than Keith ever was.

"Which actions?" he asked for clarification and perhaps to stall answering. But it was still... an important distinction, was it not? Keith's actions against him weren't worth being killed over. But he doubted Pax cared about that. Or the king, since he was the king's golem. He had to mean his actions as a... soldier. As a Fallen under the king's command.

"He almost had Jack Ripley. In fact, he would have had him... but another fairy intervened on his behalf..." But even Rip knew that there were plenty of chances for Keith to collar Jack and bring him in. He had the doorway into his dreams. He had him by the throat for years. And he let it all go away by playing with him. And Rip knew why. Keith was obsessed. Everybody knew that part. But Keith was also not fond of being under another person's thumb. He didn't want to work for or under the king. And toying with Jack and making Rip were his ways of flaunting that he couldn't be controlled.

"Pertaining to his mission."

Whatever deficiencies Keith had as a person, they were not for Pax to judge him on. That was for a higher authority—his Majesty, the King. Pax enforced his rule and occasionally acted as his counsel, although the King obviously never listened to or expected him to dispense with advice. That was never his place; the King knew what needed to be done to keep the kingdom strong.

As he listened to Ripper's response, his brow furrowed ever so slightly. "It is also a crime to steal a prince's soul," Pax mused. No one sanctioned the creation of a golem with the first prince's soul. Keith had broken protocol, although everyone had been under the impression that it was done in order to further the King's agenda—not to create for himself a reasonable facsimile of the prince for his own perverted ends.

"That indicates elimination. However, his skill with golem creation is widely acknowledged." Pax's gaze flicked up and down over Ripper. "He did an excellent job crafting you." Perhaps punishment then. Pax personally found it distasteful that anyone would use a golem with a prince's soul inside as a mere sex toy. That was beneath the prince's dignity.

"You may tell him that he is to be punished."

"Yes..." It was a crime. It was a terrible crime. The prince was the king's own seed, if one wanted to see it that way. What Keith did was steal directly from the king himself. Which now made Rip nervous. Was he meant to be given to Pax so that he would be deactivated by him? Because if Keith did it, he would damage the prince? They were going to take it out, weren't they? What made him... him.

But no, no. The particle of soul that had been stolen was also like a seed. And inside the living clay and with Keith's magic, it had created a soul of its own. The soul was Rip now, not Jack. He lowered his gaze as Pax spoke again. Elimination. His heart felt heavy. But no, Pax was highlighting Keith's skill.

"Yes," he agreed again, squirming slightly under his scrutiny. What if Pax found a flaw and decided that Keith wasn't as skilled as he was supposed to be? But no... Keith was one of the best... and he didn't think that just because Keith was his creator. He really was. Some golems were... frightful to look at. Rip met some made by lesser craftsmen and they were... they had very blank faces, almost as if they had been drawn on by children. Which sounded almost cute--they weren't. They were scary.

"Oh..."

M-master... he says you're to be punished...

When he gets here, he'll change his mind.

...you want him to, master?

He'll change his mind about elimination and punishment. You'll see...

"I told him, Pax..."

He looked anxiously out of the window, seeing the plaza with the phone shop passing by. Ah, well... He didn't know why he ever thought that was within his possibilities...

"Thank you." Pax settled into the worn, cheap plastic-covered seat to wait out the rest of the journey. He caught the eye of a curious child sitting a row in front of them, who was clambering all over his seat with the kind of frenetic energy that only a child could have. The child—a little boy—grinned at him and there was a gap between his front teeth where he had recently lost a tooth. Pax reached out and patted him on the top of the head, still expressionless.

Idle chitchat and benign smalltalk was a human construct, one which Pax felt no need to engage in. The rest of the ride was perhaps rather awkward and boring; at parts he glanced outside too, at the rain sheeting against the windows of the bus which brought back to mind his own master, awaiting news up in his elegant black castle. The King had a lot riding on this mission, even going so far as to send his own son.

Where was Rhys? Pax was also here to locate him. The last the King saw of him, he had begun to grow wings—something that unsettled him enough to send Pax in to tie up all the loose ends. Extract Rhys, ensure that Keith stayed in line, see what he could do about the rest of the King's sons and salvage what could be salvaged. It was a large job for one golem, but Pax was up to the task. He had to be.

Eventually they appeared to reach their destination, as the bus stopped a little ways away from an apartment building. It wasn't seedy or run-down but it had clearly seen better days. Pax gazed up at it for a moment. This was to be home for the next few weeks, he supposed. "I would advise you, from now on, to carry yourself in a manner as befitting a golem belonging to a general." His eyes were back on Ripper now. "You hold the soul of a prince inside of you. Do that soul shard proud. We may be golems..." He allowed himself a little proud smile.

"But we are not lesser beings and we will not act as if we believe we are."

And here they were. The Greenwood apartments.

"I..." What? But that wasn't what Keith said... he said they were lesser and they weren't worth dirt. He said it all the time, in fact. To Keith, they should have been nothing but dirt, he supposed. He made them so to him... they were nothing. Rip couldn't even make himself say yes or okay because it was against what he knew to be true and Pax was not yet his master. Keith was. And Keith was still his creator... But... if he had a part of the King's seed in him, essentially... was he not also created by the King himself?

Dangerous thinking.

So he said nothing more, only followed Pax off the bus and stood out in the onslaught of the rain as he shuddered. The clothing he had worn was not made for this weather but to be fair, nothing that Rip owned in the way of clothes was made for weather. It was only to be aesthetically pleasing to Keith.

Slowly, he marched toward their apartment, letting Keith know they were coming up. The door was unlocked when they arrived and he turned the knob with a rising sense of unease. Inside, the living room looked the same as it had when he left.

"Master?"

Golems were not sex slaves. Some were crafted for that purpose, yes, but not those serving the King. The King had no need for sex slaves, nor for golems to fulfill that role for him. Pax was no golem rights advocate but he served his master with pride and he expected Ripper to do the same. He wasn't insinuating that they were better than the King, but they were not inferior—certainly not to someone like Keith, who was at best their equal.

If they all served the King, they were equals.

He followed Ripper upstairs to the correct apartment and strode in as if he owned the place. There was no one inside presently but he felt Keith's presence—and that of another. "Stay here," Pax told Ripper before heading in with sure steps. He entered a dark room; inside Keith was lounging on his bed with a decidedly disrespectful sneer on his face. And bound and gagged on the floor...

"Release him. Immediately." Pax felt a surge of uncharacteristic displeasure in the link he shared with the King. "How dare you treat a prince this way? Do you wish to be eliminated?"

The boy on the floor looked up at him with frightened eyes, squirming against his bonds. Pax stepped closer to the bed where Keith was still laying, refusing to move a single finger. His eyes shut for a moment; when they opened, they were black instead of blue. "Release him. Now. Keith. Do not presume to think that you are necessary and immune to elimination."

"Majesty." Keith's voice was oily. He slid off the bed and waved his hand; the bonds vanished. The young prince bolted to his feet and made a break for the door. "Rip, stop him!" Keith called out, his eyes trained on Pax. "Bring him back in here."

A frightened young man made a beeline for the door and unfortunately... Rip grabbed him before he could get to it. He held him close to keep him from kicking him, arms held down. But he did notice the one mitten. And his heart lurched in his chest uncomfortably.

"...Cori?"

A sharp sensation lanced his head and he lowered his head.

"I'm sorry..."

He dragged the boy down the hall he'd just come from. Even if he was Cori... He was Mik's friend... He couldn't violate a direct order. But maybe there was hope yet for Cori. Maybe... Pax was here, after all. Surely he wanted nothing to do with Keith's... peculiarities. Rip brought the boy before Keith and Pax, whose eyes had changed color to an ominous obsidian.

"Master..." he said, about to lower his head, but also recalling what Pax said. He wasn't sure which directive to follow, so he didn't lower his head but he averted his gaze. It... seemed like a good medium.

"My son." Pax brought his body closer to the struggling young man, who was desperately still clawing and fighting to get away. But as soon as Pax laid a hand over his head, he stilled. His eyes, too, turned black and he stood perfectly still. "My son," he repeated, stroking the boy's hair several times before turning back to Keith, who appeared pleased with himself.

Smack!

Pax's hand flicked through the air and an invisible force whipped out at Keith, sending him flying into the bed. His body thudded off of the footboard; he cursed as he struggled to rise, but another blow laid him flat. Standing over him, Pax dispensed with several more lashes. Blood seeped into the cheap carpet; it splattered across the bottom of his trousers.

Keith only let out several grunts but aside from his initial surprised cry, he made no other noises. Pax paused, blinked. His eyes returned to their normal shade and he studied the figure at his feet still defiantly glaring up at him. "You are lucky his Majesty was in a good mood," was all he said before walking back to the boy. "You will transfer control of Ripper to me. Immediately. Your services here are no longer required afterwards. You may return to the Kingdom to await further orders from the King."

Rip's distaste for violence made the debacle with Keith hard to watch, even given what Keith had done to him over the years. He still couldn't find it in him to cheer on the violence. If anything, he shied away from it, not wanting to look, not wanting to see the blood as it splashed over the carpet and over Pax's pants. Turning his head away, he swallowed hard and held onto the boy, who was no longer struggling.

Keith didn't like him looking at him, anyway. With his gaze lowered, he still felt Pax's presence when he stepped back over to Cori, who seemed to have been subdued by some kind of spell. Still, Rip held him. Not holding him to keep him from getting away anymore. His grip had loosened to almost an embrace.

So this was why. Cori was a son of the king. This is what Keith had been so smug about; he thought he had an in because he fixed his mistake with Jack by hauling in another son, one that... One that seemed to hold a special place in the king's heart. There was no mistaking his tone when he touched him, when he calmed him. There was no reason for him to do that so gently if there wasn't... some reason for him to care.

Rip heard Keith spit in response to the order to transfer. But like Rip, there were certain things that Keith had to obey. He might not be a golem himself but he was still bound to the king's service in a way that he'd been attempting for years to find loopholes to get out of.

Ripper... Rip looked up, finally looking at Keith. For once, he was the one, bloody and laid out. But he didn't look cowed. There was still an undeniable sense of smugness in the way he looked at them, even at Pax, even at the king's man. Their gazes met. And Rip honestly... he didn't know what it was that Keith was trying to communicate to him. They just... it was strange, looking Keith in the eyes when he'd averted his gaze for so long. And then... Rip's eyes began to grow heavy.

Keith's sigil was removed and with it, his magic. His power. His battery.

"Better hurry," Keith drawled. "Or you'll lose him. And what... a waste of a perfect specimen..."

Defiance was to be expected. Rebellion, even. Pax had been given notes on Keith before he was sent to the human realm, and he knew that Keith would not be easy to deal with. Even the way he went about releasing Ripper carried a certain sense of suspicion with it. He was up to something; Pax knew that instinctively. But Pax trusted that even Keith would not be foolish enough to defy an order from the King.

"You are dismissed. His Majesty will likely wish to speak with you once you return to the kingdom. I suggest you don't keep him waiting." Pax turned to face Ripper so that he could fill the vessel with his own magic--the magic from his core, from the dual souls that had merged to become one. He was two halves of a whole, possessing the ability to control magic in a way that other golems could not.

Pax was one of the King's many experiments--luckily he proved successful.

"We have work to do," he said once the bonds affixed themselves and attached to the golem that Keith so inventively called Ripper. The name was distasteful, but he doubted that it made a difference to Ripper himself. Pax had better things to do than to sit about thinking of a creative name, anyway. Taking command easily, he gestured to the young prince that Ripper was holding on to. "Please take the prince to another room. After the corruption has set in, you may release him. He is not yet ready to join us."

A new and different brand of magic took the place of Keith's magic. It took a moment for it to circulate, for his energy to come back. Once the bonds had been created and switched from one master to the other, Rip didn't feel... that much different. There was a different kind of sense to the new magic but it was strange and hard to put his finger on. But it was still a bond, master to golem.

Rip nodded. Yes, there was work to do. He didn't know how to work with Pax. After years of working under Keith, he had no instruction manual to Pax. Keith had a pretty set list of things to do. There were protocols in place, what to call Keith when they were alone, what to call him in public, how to address him, when to address him, how to look at him, when to look at him... How to respond when he was given an order.

"Yes, master," he said, because that was what he was meant to say to Keith and he didn't have any clue as to how to work with Pax. He was on rocky terrain now.

The young prince was not hard to move now that he was under the King's spell. All Rip had to do was touch his arm and lead him out of the room and he followed, almost as if he were a golem himself. Which room? Which room did he take him to? He turned back, wanting to ask about Rhys but thought better of it and turned away again. So not Rhys' room. Then Raphael's because the only room left was Keith's and... it was not looking too great right now, covered in blood.

Raphael's room was probably the most likable room in the apartment because it had a lived in look but it wasn't a mess like Keith's room. And he thought the prince--Cori?--would like it, because there were a lot of things from this world in it. Rip led Cori to the bed and sat him down on it.

"Cori?" he asked. "Are you still in there?"

It was like coming out of a bad dream. One moment he was dozing on the big couch at the back of the shelter, worried about hurting people with his cursed hands, and then somebody walked in with a weird lopsided smile on his face and... took him. He just took Cori, like he might have taken a packet of noodles off a grocery store shelf. How did someone take a whole person though?!

Cori was bound and gagged and thrown onto the ground. The guy was laughing about it, too, evidently pleased. He said some stuff Cori didn't understand and then more people came in, there was that weird guy with the eyes that changed color... Then darkness. Within the darkness though, something awakened inside of him. Memories unlocked; he had the feeling of being... home?

When he came back to, he was in a strange place, sitting down on a foreign bed. A man with kind but worried eyes was looking at him and talking to him; it took him a little while to make sense of his words. "Where am I? Where's Mik? Who are you?"

One of the princes. Rip only knew Rhys and he wasn't very personal with him. Nobody really was; Rhys was consistently bored and didn't seem to really care for anybody or anything. Not in the way Keith didn't care, though. He just didn't care. Keith... Well, Rip didn't know if he'd be a problem for him anymore. Some part of him still didn't quite believe it and most parts of him knew what was happening was too good to be true. Nothing good happened to golems. He was just bracing for the next blow.

In the meantime, though, there was a prince to take care of. This one was a nicer looking one than Rhys. As in he seemed kinder. But probably not for long, since he had been corrupted. That was what happened to him back there, wasn't it? That's why he was told to wait. His corruption would seep deep and his wings would vanish with the dark magic. Consumed by it.

"You're at Greenwood," he said. "Mik is..." He felt a deep sense of regret, recalling how he'd left Mik back there at the shelter. Lowering his gaze, he knew he would never see him again. Would Cori? Or were they going to keep him here within reach of... Pax? It would be dangerous to let him go out, to fall in love before the corruption did its work.

"Mik's still at the shelter. He's okay." Cori had been kidnapped before the thing that happened to Mik so... he didn't know. Best not to rock the boat. "I'm Ripper. You can just call me Rip."

He reached for the one mitten Cori still wore. "Are you still cold?"

"Greenwood?" Cori looked around the room at all of the colorful things that surrounded them. He knew of Greenwood but none of his friends lived here, so he hadn't ever been inside the building. All he knew was that it was run by an old lady and her two sons, one of whom was known to be kind of weird and the other one a real bad kind of guy—that kind that got into a lot of trouble.

But this room was nice-looking. It was cluttered but not untidy; there were just too many things to fit across all of the available surfaces. Cori would have gone around to look at everything, except he was still confused and a little scared, if he had to be honest. "Rip... Mik's okay? That guy kidnapped me! A blond guy! Is he still here?"

Nervously he edged closer towards Rip, but then made a startled sound and jerked his hand back. "No! No don't touch me! My hands are cursed! I might hurt you!" He stuck his hands literally under his butt and he sat on them. "Rip, are you with the blond guy?" Rip looked like a nice man; not a kidnapper or murderer or anything, not that Cori could see.

Rip nodded. Greenwood. Was he allowed to say that? Or was Cori not supposed to know? It didn't seem like information that would break any rules. And... he hadn't been directed not to say where they were. He nodded again, hoping that it was true, that Mik was okay. Pax said he would be, didn't he? That didn't mean he couldn't lie about it, though, to get Rip to go with him.

"Ah... I don't know..."

He didn't know where Keith was now. Normally, he could follow the psychic line to feel him out but that seemed to have been shut down with the trade in ownership. Rip lowered his gaze as Cori pulled his hand back like he thought Rip was going to hurt him. Rip understood; he had been kidnapped so he didn't trust him. But what he said next surprised him.

"Cursed...?" Although Rip tried to get a good look at the one hand that wasn't encased in a mitten, he couldn't see anything because Cori sat on his hands to hide them from him. Rip toyed with one of his necklaces.

"No." He used to be but he wasn't now. Looking to the hands that were hidden, Rip finally said, "You can't corrupt me." Rip put out a hand.

"As long as he's not here," Cori said nervously as he glanced around again, but no scary-looking blond guys came popping out of the woodwork. He still wanted to get away from here and go home, back to Lieve, but it didn't look like he was going to be let out anytime soon. Maybe Rip was another hostage! He looked pretty unhappy, truth be told.

But he wasn't with that other guy! Which made him a friend! At least to Cori's way of thinking he was. Breathing a big sigh of relief, he finally relaxed. Rip could have been lying to him, but Cori was pretty trusting of everyone he met. He liked to take people at their word, and if they proved him wrong... That was on them, not him. Besides, he simply couldn't help but see the best in people, regardless of circumstance or situation.

"No! You don't understand, I killed all of Lieve's plants! I touched them and they withered and died! I'm not gonna risk hurting you too, Rip!" Cori edged away from him as an added precaution. "We gotta get outta here, Rip! I have to get home before Lieve starts to worry! And Mik, he'll be wondering where I am too."

One hand popped out from under him to search around in his pocket. "That guy took my phone! Do you think it's still here? We can use it to call for help!"

Rip couldn't help it. He let out a little laugh.

"I'm not a plant, Cori."

He wasn't going to shrivel under Cori's touch. Besides, that wasn't how the corruption worked. Although... How... odd that he spoke of corrupting things when he had just now been corrupted. Or had he? Did somebody get to him first? Rip tilted his head as he regarded Cori, hands behind his back now, curious. After a moment, he slowly got down on one knee in front of Cori and put out a hand, palm face up.

The poor guy was panicking. That was normal. Anybody taken away like that... It was scary. But there were no phones here. Rip wasn't able to purchase one, especially under the watch of Pax on the ride back. And now that Pax was his master... it was even smarter that he didn't stop to buy one in front of him. What would he do with it, anyway? Call all one friend he had? And even him... He had been lost to this stupid war between the fairies and the fallen.

"Touch my hand, please."

"But you don't know how bad this curse could be! I never tested it on a person!" Cori edged further away from Rip while shaking his head vehemently. Why was Rip so determined to prove that he was immune to the curse? Did he want to get hurt?! It wasn't worth it just to prove that Cori was normal—Cori could keep wearing gloves! It wasn't that big of a deal!

"No! I'm not touching you! I—" He leapt off the bed abruptly and ran over to the window, where a small pot of succulents were positioned to catch maximum sunlight. Cori picked out the smallest bud, one that wasn't touching the others, and he poked it with his fingertip. It wilted immediately; its small vibrant green leaves shrivelled and turned a nasty yellow-brown.

"See Rip? See?! That could happen to you!"

"...I'm not a person."

He kept his hand out but Cori edged away from him and kept on shaking his head, like he thought that was going to somehow convince Rip that he had Evil Hands. He even jumped straight off the bed and for a second, Rip thought he was going to have to chase him down. But he didn't run from the room. He went to the window, where Raphael's little plant was sitting to catch the sunlight.

Rip stood up and dropped his hand, watching as Cori touched the plant and it did immediately die. Strange. He shouldn't even be able to do that until he was fully Fallen. All he should be right now was in the first stages of being corrupted.

"You can learn to control it." Otherwise the Fallen everywhere would be surrounded in constant decay.

"You are so a person," Cori had to say because Rip being 'not a person' made no sense whatsoever. He was breathing, talking, thinking—he was a person! Was he talking metaphorically? Did he have something going on that made him think he wasn't a person? But that didn't mean he needed to try and hurt himself—or that he should use Cori to do it!

Hesitantly he returned to the bed, where he sat on his hands again. "I can control a curse? Is there somebody who can teach me? I don't know who cursed me, you know, so it might be a while before I can go back to normal!"

The thought of not being able to touch anybody ever again made him sad. He wilted, shoulders collapsing and mouth turning down at the corners into a big sad face. "This morning I was normal. And now everything's... like this. I miss my mom... She would've known what to do!"

Rip sighed. He wasn't getting into this again today. The person, non-person argument. He was so sick of it. People who didn't know him thought he was a person. People who knew him well knew that he wasn't. There was no point anymore to trying to explain it. So he ignored the comment--other than the sigh--and he watched Cori sit down, again on his hands, like he thought they would go on a wild rampage without his permission.

"It's not a curse. Somebody must have performed the ritual on you... this morning."

That didn't make sense. Pax didn't touch him until now. Unless he met Cori earlier and lost him... and no... because Pax asked Rip to guide him to Keith. But maybe he knew Cori was with Keith... Rip reached up to massage the side of his head. All of this was giving him such a headache.

"What happened this morning?"

He could do nothing about his mother. Rip could only assume she was dead; he didn't know the details but it sounded like she was--Cori missed her and talked like she was gone.

"A witch!" See, he knew it was a witch! Or a warlock, or someone who had it out for him. Did he have an enemy out there who cast a spell on him or performed some voodoo bad mojo ritual while his back was turned? Who did he annoy so much that they would do this to him?!

He scooted up on the bed to sit more comfortably, as they were going to be here a while. Apparently. Cori didn't even know what his kidnappers wanted—money? If they left a ransom note with Lieve, what would happen?! Would Lieve pay up to get him home safe? He hoped so, but maybe Lieve would call the cops and they would swoop in and nab the bad guys and get both him and Rip out!

"Um. Nothing much. Well I didn't get that much sleep last night cause I had a bad dream about my mom, so my whole morning was kind of a blur." He frowned; his gaze drifted off into the distance, well beyond Rip. "I dreamed that somebody came and took her. My mom, I mean. She disappeared a few months ago... And that guy, he took her and locked her up in a big black castle with huge tall spires and purple flags! Then I woke up after that and this curse—ritual thing happened."

"What? No..."

Not a witch. A fairy. Not the same thing, but Cori didn't know. He didn't know who he was, what he was. Did he? He was still ignorant to all of that and his father probably wanted it left that way until he was fully corrupted. A son that finally could do him proud. Take the throne after him. There were whispers that he was dying, that this was why he was collecting now. Preparing. Somebody had to take his place and that person had to be worthy of his reign.

But... honestly... Rip was so tired of all of it. The politics of it all, the warring. The idea that all fairies had to be erased or folded into the Fallen. Why? What was the point? There were too many different types of fae, too. Why erase all of them to create one ugly kind? It was so... needless. But who was Rip to say? It wasn't even his war to fight. He was just here for one person's pleasure and now even that had been taken from him. Rip didn't know what would be expected from him by Pax but he somehow doubted it had anything to do with sex. He would rather be a sex tool than actually help the cause of the Fallen.

But again. Not something he would ever say, especially not to the second in command.

Rip sat down on the floor, crossing his legs and looking up at Cori, where he made himself more comfortable on the bed. At least he seemed to be calmed down from earlier. But Cori's telling of his dream... He swallowed hard.

"Oh." Rip lowered his gaze. That... did... not bode well. He wondered how Pax could have missed it. Not many of the dream walking fae were around. Most had been killed by the Fallen. But one that hadn't been killed... was Keith. And then Keith found Cori and kidnapped him the very next day. That... couldn't be a coincidence. Keith... what are you planning? He felt an icy cold grip around his heart.

"Well... you can learn to control the corruption power. Close your eyes."

"Okay." Cori was nothing if not obedient, so trustingly he closed his eyes. But when the darkness settled over his closed eyelids, he felt uncomfortably squirrely and had a strong desire to open them again. He wanted to see what was going on! But Rip told him to close em so he squeezed his lids shut tight and focused, scrunching up his face in the process.

"What do I do now? How long do I have to hold it for, Rip?"

Darkness, darkness, everywhere. Cori's leg jiggled faintly on top of the bed. He never did like the dark; he slept with a night light well into his early teens, because he would wake up with night terrors if he didn't. He kept seeing atrocious things, kept having the most horrible nightmares. Sometimes he would be the one doing terrible things in them, killing people, maiming and torturing them—for a little boy's brain to handle that kind of thing, it was quite a feat.

"Imagine your hands are black like they're covered in ink."

Rip didn't actually know how to control the corruption from experience; he was a golem. He wasn't even corruptible. Not with this particular blight. A golem of a fairy was not a fairy, it was a golem. They couldn't be turned. But he had met enough Fallen to know they could control it. Rhys and Keith didn't constantly wear gloves and they touched all kinds of things all day long without leaving behind corruption. It took a concerted effort... normally. But with a new corruption...

"That blackness is the corruption, okay? Now imagine the blackness is fading away..." Rip watched Cori, who looked perturbed. He seemed nervous. Slowly, Rip touched his jiggling leg. "Show me your hands."

"Eww..." Incorrigible Cori whispered, imagining black-stained hands. For some reason it wasn't ink that he imagined, but a goopy black tar-like substance that was drippy and clingy, coating both of his hands. Was that what corruption looked like? He didn't know! But he tried his best to do what Rip said because he trusted him, and thus far Rip hadn't done anything to indicate that he was an evil man like that blond guy.

A touch to his jiggly leg stilled it, but he didn't show his hands yet. His brows were furrowed and an expression of intense focus was on his face. The darkness receded from his hands. He imagined it all dripping off of him, onto the ground, that sticky icky black tar. "You're gonna touch my hand," Cori whispered fearfully with his eyes still tightly squeezed shut.

Slowly he let one hand slip out, the palm held up, fingers shaking. "Please please please don't get hurt!"

Well, the blight was black so that's why he chose black. Like ink, though. Rip thought it was the least gross of the black liquids he could conjure to mind. Apparently, Cori did not think so. Still, he seemed to be imagining it, and that was good. A big part of magic usage was being able to visualize it.

Only one hand was presented and it was the one without the mitten. Good. And it was clean, there was nothing there. Part of the idea of closing his eyes was the part where sometimes... visualizing the elements sometimes made them... actually visual. If Cori was one of those, then he had at least succeeded in pushing back the darkness.

"Yes."

He said that because not saying it would continue to leave Cori anxious. It didn't seem to help much though. While his leg stopped jiggling when Rip touched it, the hand was now shaking in its stead. Using his free hand, Rip touched his hand. Just fingertips to palm, see, nothing there. He traced his fingertips over the palm and down Cori's fingertips. Still nothing. Not really surprising. It would be like a... disease for humans jumping hosts. Even if it tried to spread to him, it would die before it really did any damage to him.

That wouldn't really help Cori with other people but maybe if he saw he wasn't corrupting what he assumed was a person, he would be able to do the same with real people.

"...open your eyes."

"Haah!" Cori winced when he felt warm fingertips on his palm, but he didn't open his eyes for fear of seeing Rip wilt and die, too. His poor heart was hammering in his chest and he had a hard time breathing. What if he killed Rip?! He couldn't even kill a plant without feeling guilty about it--a whole person might just send him off the deep end!

But... Rip didn't make any dying noises. Cori refused to open his eyes. Rip's hand moved down his palm and fingers, indicating that he was alive, and finally Cori opened his eyes when bidden. "Oh," he breathed in awe, as Rip appeared to be perfectly fine. "You're not dead," he whispered as his eyes widened to the size of dinner plates.

Slowly Cori's fingers curled around Rip's fingers. "Ooh!" He was acting like he was touching a person for the first time, but it sort of felt that way. "It worked!" Cori beamed at Rip, whom he was seeing in a whole new light. A sort of... human meeting superman for the first time kind of light. Then somewhat impulsively he threw his arms around Rip and hugged him. "It worked! I'm not cursed anymore! You cured it!"

No, he was not dead. Cori seemed to think it was a miracle! But then, by the way he was shaking, Rip was pretty confident that Cori really believed he would kill him. To be perfectly honest with himself, Rip wondered if it would work at all, if perhaps Keith had concocted a new breed of the blight. But it wouldn't be in his best interest to create a blight that decimated his own troops. And Keith was a master of golems. There never should have been a shadow of doubt.

Rip's smile was small--things still felt rather dire but this was at least some light in the darkness. And it was kind of cute; Cori was kind of cute. Like a kitten with its eyes fully opened and seeing all kinds of amazing new things. The way he beamed at him abashed Rip, though. He didn't feel like he'd done much to warrant a smile of that caliber. Hard not to smile back at him, though.

"Oh!" The hug, he did not expect. He didn't live in a world where impromptu hugs were given without notice. In fact, he didn't live in a world where hugs really existed. Emotions rarely ran high; everybody was so controlled and stiff and cold. They might as well all be a bunch of walking, talking corpses. (And this... coming from a golem.)

His laugh was a little high with embarrassment but semi-pleased embarrassment. But he felt a bit as if he cheated to get the hug in the first place; he didn't cure anything. He just... taught Cori a trick. One that he wasn't even sure worked because, well. He was a golem. Swallowing, he lightly embraced Cori back, with a gentle couple of pats to his back. Then, "You should try touching the plant again."

Cori laughed because Rip laughed in a funny kinda way, and they were both laughing because Cori failed to kill someone with his cursed fingers. Whereas Lieve had magic fingers, Cori's brought with them the plague of black death. Literally. It was hard not to feel incredibly down about that, especially since he loved plants--and in particularly loved hanging out with Lieve while Lieve tended to plants. Cori's job in those instances was to blather on about everything under the sun while Lieve did the heavy lifting.

"Ooh! Okay!" He pulled back from Rip and looked at the poor little plant again. "Who does that belong to? I should write them a note to apologize about killing that one..." Or he could pull it off and hide the evidence, but Cori wasn't that sneaky to begin with. Now that he wasn't death on two legs, he took some time to look around the room and to appreciate everything in it.

"This is a pretty cool room! Look at all the neat stuff this guy's been collecting!" He hopped off the bed and ran over to the desk, where a cute lunch tin sat. "Oooh! I love this! Isn't this awesome Rip? Oh--the plant! I gotta do the plant thing first!" Cori bounced over to the window next and gingerly selected another piece of the succulent to touch.

He expected it to wither, or ideally for nothing to happen.

Instead...

"AAHHH!" Cori yelled and leapt back as the plant... exploded. It exploded in a sudden mass of growth, spilling over the side of the pot and then falling over with the weight of all the new offshoots and clusters of leaves that sprang to life out of nowhere.

They probably looked like a couple of hysterical weirdos but maybe that's because they were. Rip gave Cori one more awkward little pat on the back before the embrace ended and he sat where he was, hands between his legs as he watched Cori looking around the room.

"Raphael. This is his room." Was? Rip wasn't sure. He hadn't heard or seen hide nor hair from either Raphael or Rhys in a few days now. Keith just assumed they were dead but Rip really hoped that wasn't the case. Apparently they were traitors and that meant death. But... surely the king wouldn't kill his own son, especially if he really wasn't doing well and needed an heir on the throne. Rhys was the closest to the throne of any of them. Maybe... he had gone back home. As for Raphael...

Rip didn't want to think about it, honestly.

"I thought you'd like this room." He felt pleased with himself for guessing correctly. But also, it was still the only bedroom he felt confident taking Cori to. Whether Rhys was dead or back home, there was still the tiniest off chance he could just be working on something... and if he came back to somebody in his room... Rip didn't want to be the one to cross him.

It seemed like Cori was either distracted by the coolness of Raphael's room or he was trying desperately not to do The Thing. But he seemed somewhat excited to do The Thing so Rip thought maybe it was the former. He watched, too, as Cori touched the plant in the window, tense and hopeful. Ideally, nothing would happen. And for a second--but no. Rip immediately got to his feet as Cori cried out and the plant began to explode with sudden growth.

Panic rose in him as the plant continued to grow at an alarming speed, even when Cori's hand was no longer touching it.

"Oh! Oh no..." How on earth did they stop it??? Rip didn't have any sort of thoughts on how to fix something like this. It wasn't even on his radar of things to expect when Cori touched the plant. It was either he corrupted it or he didn't corrupt it. It certainly wasn't... this!

"K-Kei-Pax!" he shouted as he pulled Cori with him out of the room as the plant continued to burst into new and bigger plants.

"Tha-that plant's gone CRAZY!" Cori shouted as he ran out of the room with Rip, while the plant just took over the entire room. Oh... oh all of the cool stuff inside! All the collections and the lunch tin! He heard things bumping around, falling, being jostled around as the plant began to fill the space, and Cori couldn't help but feel as though he really, really owed that Raphael person a big huge apology after this!

The dark-haired man returned when Rip called to him and he was frowning heavily. "What's going on?" His gaze fell onto a tidal wave of succulent leaves barreling towards them and for a moment even he looked shocked. "Who did this?" he asked sternly.

Cori raised his hand tentatively.

"...take the prince to the living room. I'll handle this."

"Prince?" Cori looked up at Rip. "Are you a Prince?!"

Uh, yeah... That plant was definitely going crazy in there. Rip had no idea what to think of it; he was on panic mode now. All he could imagine was that the plant would keep growing until it took over the entirety of Greenwood and then Hazleton and then the world! Who knew that Cori was this powerful?!

"Yes, sir!"

Rip was just glad that neither of them were being lashed with invisible whips (yet--he feared for their future though). Grabbing hold of Cori's hand, he tugged him down the hallway and into the living room. Hopefully Pax had the power to do something about that plant before it took over the entire world. Why was it even still growing?! It was like Cori super-charged it with some kind of crazy growth hormone.

"No, no. I'm not a prince, you are," Rip said, somewhat distractedly as he sat Cori down on the couch.

"I am not you silly!" Cori laughed deliriously, the same kind of laugh Rip laughed earlier. He ran into the living room with Rip and sat on the couch, but almost immediately leapt up, pointing to the door. The unguarded door. "Rip! Rip look! The door! We can leave!"

Ooh freedom was right there within reach! He tugged on Rip's hand urgently. "Rip hurry! While he's distracted by the plant, we can go!" Ooh this was the perfect opportunity! He wanted to just run out so badly but--not without his new friend Rip. He couldn't live with himself if he got out but Rip didn't! Meanwhile, behind them in that plant-filled room, Pax seemed to be struggling to contain them...

But he was. Cori was the prince. A prince. And that dream he had about his mother being kidnapped was quite... strange, too. Rip hadn't had a chance to really unpack that information but it did nag at him. It was important; he just didn't know why it was important. It was like having a puzzle piece but lacking the ones around it to loan it context.

"Huh?"

Rip looked over at the front door as Cori bounced right back to his feet, excitedly pointing out the not-so-well-guarded door. There was nobody standing there but that didn't mean there wasn't a spell on it. Cori was too excited to see the forest for the trees, so he was bounding for the door, likely ecstatic that he could make his escape.

"I don't think we should--" he tried to say but they were already at the front door. Rip tried to use the hand he still held to pull Cori away from the door. "Be careful! There could be wards all over it!"

Bouncing comically off the invisible barrier over the door, Cori clutched at his nose with his free hand, yelping. That hurt! He ran into that face-first and it hurt! "What--" He stared at the door. It was open; the hallway outside was empty, normal. But he couldn't get through! He was stopped by something! Cori kicked a foot at the door; the barrier showed itself briefly in a low shimmer, and then vanished from view.

"Wha--it's--they can't do this!" He turned to Rip angrily. "They can't just kidnap people! What do they want, Rip? Is it money? I don't have any! My mom's not even here and--I just want to go home..." Cori trailed off miserably. He looked at the door again, with freedom so close and yet... so far. Cori couldn't make the barrier go away--he didn't know how to do magic. He was only a human!

"Why is this happening, Rip? Do you know?"

His attempts to keep Cori from the door were for naught; he made it to the door and opened it and smashed straight into a brick wall of wards. Rip sighed; he knew that was coming. There was no way they'd just leave the door open for Cori to leave. They wanted to corrupt him. They wanted Rip to watch him until he was corrupted and then... He would likely be shipped off back to the fairy realm to meet his true destiny.

Rip was silent while Cori went on an angry (and fearful) tirade about being kidnapped and money and Rip slightly shook his head. It wasn't about money. Money was useless to a fairy. They used it because they had to in this world but it held no real value to most of them. Human money was useless back home. And here, there wasn't much to want to buy.

This wasn't strictly true; Raphael liked to collect things here and Rip liked certain things too. But they weren't coming home with him when he eventually had to leave so... He just enjoyed those things from afar. Besides, the things Rip really yearned for weren't really about money. Cats. Friends. Experiences.

"It's because you're a prince," he said sadly. If he hadn't been born a prince, he wouldn't be cursed with the life that no doubt awaited him. Rip wished he could help him escape... but... Glancing back, at where he could still hear Pax struggling with the never-ending growth of that once tiny plant, he let go of Cori's hand and he indicated the ward on the doorway.

"Maybe," he said quietly, "you can escape on your own power."

Cori was obviously powerful. Maybe the most powerful of the princes.

"Try touching the barrier and..." He tried to think of a good way of visualizing this one. "And imagine it's made of glass. Imagine that where you touch it, it starts to crack..."

"I'm not! I'm not a prince!" Cori could have cried with frustration at this point! He wasn't a prince and he had no money so if they thought he was somebody else, then they were wrong! But nobody was telling him WHAT they wanted! That blond guy wasn't even here anymore but somebody else took his place, and then they blocked the door with freaky spells to stop him from leaving...

Cori grasped at his curls and let out a purely anguished noise. He just wanted to go home! To find Lieve! To find his mom!

"What? He drew closer to Rip. What was he saying? That Cori had some kind of power? "But I'm..." Human... He was cursed, and that was why the thing with the plant happened. And this thing now, well maybe it was the curse backfiring. It couldn't be him! His mom never told him anything about being special the way Lieve was! Cori was desperate though.

Desperate enough to try.

He did what Rip told him, even though it was difficult to focus. But he forced himself and he tried to find a weak spot. To make it crack. Something glimmered. Just by the door jamb, it glistened and Cori stared at it. "Is that--do you see that?" He walked forward and prodded it and then, just like glass, the entire ward shattered. Cori stared.

"Rip!" He grabbed Rip's hand as he stuck a foot out experimentally. It went through! "RIP!" Cori yanked on his hand. "Come on! Let's go!"

Oh, he was definitely a prince. He was younger than the others but he was definitely from the royal bloodline. It was plain to see; he had the telltale traits. And... he was powerful. It almost seemed to Rip that... somehow... he had dispelled the corruption with his own power. And that was... that was something. It gave Rip hope, though. That maybe... he could make it out of here. Cori wasn't stuck here. He could do it.

He hovered nearby and watched Cori anxiously, hoping he could do it without attracting any attention from Pax. The plants had been a worthy distraction--even if it was an accident. And now... Rip waited, holding his breath as he waited to see if Cori could do it.

"Yes," he said in a whisper. He saw it. Cori definitely could do it. Breaking somebody else's ward. That was high level magic. And Cori... he literally broke through it like it was actually glass. Rip smiled--he did it! He really did it! But then Cori was grabbing onto him and pulling him along... And Rip had to pull his hand from his grasp.

"I can't." Rip didn't have the same options that Cori did. He looked over his shoulder, heart thumping. Then back to Cori. "Get out of here as fast as you can. And... and when you do... imagine a big heavy cloak over you that nobody can see through. Do it. Quick now, before he sees you."

Rip wasn't coming with him...

He felt the resistance against his hand, the one that pulled frantically to get Rip to leave with him. Cori shook his head like a wet dog. "No! No Rip! You have to come with me! We can leave now! I'm not leaving without you Rip!"

See, in a time of need, Rip helped him. He was here to calm Cori down and to make sure that he was okay. His presence and his advice helped Cori to get rid of that nasty curse—although now he was cursed to make plants grow forever, it seemed, and in the back of his mind he wondered if the thing would... take over the world if it didn't stop!

But a friend in need was a friend indeed and Cori couldn't see himself running away without Rip! Rip was trapped here too, wasn't he? He wasn't mean like that blond guy; he wasn't scary stern like the black-haired one. Rip looked like somebody who might've gotten mixed up in this without knowing it. He was innocent. There was innocence in him that only innocence could recognize.

"Please Rip! Come with me! I'll hide you! We can go to Lieve's house and—and I'll use magic to keep you safe!" Even if it wasn't his magic, he could make more plants grow and distract that other guy again! There had to be a way!

"You have to."

Rip hadn't been given an order to stay yet by Pax but that didn't matter. If he left with Cori, he was going to be the beacon to find him again. Cori couldn't possibly want that. And anyway, for letting Cori get away, Rip was probably going to be punished much more severely than Keith was.

"You can't keep me safe. And I can't keep you safe. If I go with you, you'll be found again." He tugged his hand back. "Go," he urged Cori. "Now!"

Who knew when he would get a chance this good? And if he was caught now, the wards would be tougher, there would be more, they'd be more complex. There would be less chance of getting out.

"But! But Rip! What's gonna happen to you?!" Cori clung to his hand desperately, still trying to tug him out. He didn't understand why Rip wasn't leaving with him. He didn't see why Rip had to stay here when the way was already clear for him to leave. Cori wanted him to escape too. He wanted Rip to run out with him so that they could get back to Lieve's place, where there were all kinds of nice herby plants and it was clean and bright and cheerful--not like this place, where kidnappers and crazy plants grew and scary guys kept magical wards on the doors.

There was a loud BANG from the other room, though, and what sounded like a sigh of relief. Cori cast frightened eyes toward Raphael's bedroom. Rip wasn't leaving; he was adamant about staying. And if Cori didn't go... he might never escape. With a low choked sound welling up in his throat, he threw his arms around Rip and hugged him fiercely about the neck.

"I'll come back for you! I'll find help Rip! I promise! I promise!" He blinked hard. "Thank you! I'll be back with help!"

Then he had to go, because he heard footsteps approaching. Cori did what Rip told him to; he imagined a cloak falling over him from head to toe, covering him like a shield. As he ran, he scrubbed a hand over his eyes but his jaw was tight and his expression was determined. He was going to help Rip if it meant getting the whole police department down here to arrest these terrible kidnappers!

"Ripper? What happened?" The dark-haired man's voice was calm, low. "Where did the prince go?"

He didn't know. Rip didn't know what was going to happen to him but he dreaded it. He dreaded it as much as he could see the dread and panic in Cori's eyes. Maybe it showed in his own, too. But he couldn't leave with Cori. There was no telling what would happen to Cori if he did. And... he really was dealing with a wildcard here. His panic rose as he heard the sounds behind them. For a second, he thought Cori was going to stay, that he would be caught.

"Please..." Cori's embrace made him feel so much worse about it. He wished... he wanted... he yearned to go with him. But he couldn't. He swallowed hard as Cori promised to come back for him. "...don't." He shook his head. Don't come back for me. He wanted to say it but he couldn't bring himself to say anything else. His throat was tight. He almost didn't want to let go of him but he did and he stepped back and away from the doorway as Cori slipped away.

"...he escaped." Rip lowered his gaze, bracing himself for the worst.

"I see."

Pax strode over to the door and inspected what remained of his wards and charms. Shattered. He glanced over his shoulder at Ripper, who stood deferentially close by with lowered gaze, then returned his attention back to the door. Pax reached out and stroked the jamb of the door; the barrier returned. It took a great deal of magic to do this. But also--to do this without him sensing or feeling it, distracted as he was with that ridiculous plant that refused to stop growing.

Ripper didn't have the ability to break his charms, nor did he have anywhere near the amount of sheer power it required to mask this from his own master.

"The prince realized his powers," he said slowly as he returned to Ripper, standing directly before him. Pax didn't touch him; his hands remained clasped behind his back. "And he broke the ward and ran out. Correct?"

"Yes, sir."

That was exactly what happened. He just... didn't explain his own part in it. How was he supposed to know that this prince was so strong? He'd never seen anything like it. Not even Prince Rhys was this strong and he'd seen him in actual battles before. There was power in this young prince that the young prince didn't even know. Oh, Rip hoped that he had real help out there, that somebody would be able to help him control his magic because... otherwise...

Rip was still waiting for the hammer to fall, though. Pax wasn't an idiot and he was also the King's golem. He was going to see straight through Rip in an instant and he was going to decide he wasn't worth keeping around anymore. At least with Keith, he had some kind of job security. It wasn't much but it was enough to know he wasn't about to be deactivated over a mistake.

But this was so much worse than a mistake. This... was insubordination.

No, Pax was no idiot. He was nothing like an idiot, and it was fairly straight-forward to piece together what had happened. The prince escaped with some help from Ripper. How much help he gave was unknown at this point--if he did at all--but he had let the young man go without much of a struggle, it appeared. The young prince hadn't subdued him, obviously, as he was still standing. Power that strong would have destroyed Ripper if it had been turned onto him.

Pax was, however, rather relieved that Ripper remained intact. He required Ripper's services more than he required the young prince to be in their possession. Besides which, now that the King had placed his energy stamp upon his son, it wouldn't be difficult to trace him and find him again. It was going to be a while before the corruption sank in, anyway--they had time.

Now... to the issue at hand, which was Ripper's complicity in this mishap. Pax had no intention of eliminating him. It was perhaps even prudent to stay back when powerful magic was being used--a... self-preservation instinct kicking in, if you will. He made a low sound, a thoughtful sound. "Next time, you will inform me if something like this happens, so that I can deal with it in a timely manner. We will be able to find the prince again. It's fortunate that he didn't turn his powers onto you."

Next time, however, he wouldn't be given the benefit of the doubt.

Ripper held the only known shard belonging to the first prince--Jack Ripley. Pax already had something of an idea as to how to salvage this particular bumble by Keith. If they couldn't have the real Jack... perhaps they could grow this one. This soul could still be used. As long as they cultivated it to the appropriate amount inside of Ripper, perhaps they could extract the other one and plant this one in its stead. It would be a delicate task, but he imagined that someone skilled in soul weaving could do it--not himself, but an expert.

"Ripper, I have a new job for you." Pax moved past him to sit on the couch, tired from his ordeal with the damned plant. He had finally overcome the strong magic woven into it; now it sat back in its original pot on the windowsill, as if nothing happened. But that room was destroyed. Completely destroyed. Lightly crossing one leg over the other, he studied Ripper. "You will seek out the fae Prince, Brayden Smith. We need to find out how much power he has, and what manner of allies are with him at this time. I believe he is dangerous to the King's plans."

"...yes sir." And now... like that, he was bound to that duty. Rip still did not look up. Although Pax didn't sound at all like he did when he spoke to Keith, there was still the fear of the unknown. What little he had seen of Pax so far was not merciful. He hurt Mik and he hurt Keith. It was only a matter of time before he did the same to Rip. But it would only be physical. If he had to be lashed, he could take it. He was used to taking that kind of abuse. What he wasn't used to was this. The new dynamic, the new master, the new rules, the new punishments. He had learned how to navigate Keith fairly well. Pax... scared him.

Oh, he closed his eyes and waited for it. But Pax walked past him, speaking of a new job. After a few seconds, Rip opened his eyes and dared to look up, to see that Pax was casually taking a seat on the couch. Like a good little soldier, Rip placed his hands behind his back.

Seek out the fae Prince... Brayden Smith? He tried not to betray his confusion on his face. Why...? But he daren't ask. Pax might look casual right now but he was as casual as a tiger after a meal. Still dangerous.

"Yes, sir." He didn't yet move, though. Brayden Smith? Where did he begin in locating him, when the others hadn't? Keith couldn't even find him and he absolutely loathed him and wanted to wrap his hands around his throat. Now Keith was dismissed and Rhys and Raphael was mysteriously gone. It was just Rip.

But as he stood there, he did have... a spark of an idea. Allie knew Jack. And Jack knew Brayden Smith. And Allie... still thought Rip was Jack.

"Yes sir," he said again. "I will begin my new job now." He started to leave, but he stopped at the doorway, pausing to turn back toward Pax. "Do you have a preference in how I report back to you?"

"Very good. Take care that they don't discover your identity. If at any time you feel that you are in danger, return to me immediately, regardless of the progress of the job."

He trusted that Ripper would know how to go about finding Brayden Smith. After all, he was an exact copy of Jack Ripley, with his appearance and memories--that gave him a distinct advantage. An enterprising golem such as Ripper would undoubtedly be allowed access into places and groups that someone such as Keith or even Pax couldn't infiltrate.

As to the question of reporting... "A mind link may be dangerous. They can eavesdrop. A phone would be preferable. If you don't have one, you may purchase one." The humans' major means of communication was useful here. Unlike magic, a phone could not be tapped into easily, and conversations held would be fairly private. Pax, unlike some of the others, didn't scorn all human inventions. Those that were useful could be adopted to further the King's agenda here.

"I will."

He didn't have any other choice. But he knew he had to say something to acknowledge that he'd heard Pax. Just because he wasn't Keith didn't mean that wasn't still logged into his brain. There was still room for punishment if he didn't defer to his superiors properly.

But... that did not stop him from smiling that tiny, sly little smile of his as he turned away from Pax. A phone. Just... what... he'd hoped for. Feeling quite proud of himself for not even having to go around anybody's back for it, he stood a little straighter as he left, carefully closing the door behind him and heading back out to a familiar bus stop.

He knew just where to go...