We Are Bulletproof

It wasn't that his thoughts were too gay to expose. They were too private. Ken wasn't... flamboyant. He had overcome a lot of his upbringing but he couldn't not still be himself, and he just wasn't the type to stand on rooftops shouting it out loud. He was more the type to wait for a quiet moment, when they were all alone, to say the words that came straight from the heart. Nothing fancy about him, no grandstanding or showy displays.

Niall, though, was all flamboyance, to the point of it being almost overdone. Like he wanted to leave no one in doubt as to his sexuality, after being repressed for the better part of his teenage years. Ken didn't say anything to his parting shots and he didn't smile when Niall winked at him and kissed the air in his direction. It felt like a bit of a mockery, if he had to be honest. Or maybe a reminder of what they used to be, and how he denied it towards the end, now thrown right back in his face.

But somehow, Ken didn't think that the gesture was completely friendly.

He slowly turned back to Jem, who looked fit to burst. He saw the lad raising his innocent, pale face to Niall and saying something to him, their hands clasped. It reminded him of the way Lorcan used to hold on to Niall. At least he had somebody here, Ken thought with a pang in his chest.

"Tell me about the hunter hunters." His tone was back to being all business again as he brushed off the unsettling encounter. He sat down opposite of Jem with his steely gaze--no less intense than Gregg's could be. "How many of ours did they get? What manner of creatures are they?"

"I--" could go with you, he wanted to say. He wanted to make sure that the broken wrist was set properly. Otherwise, it might grow in wrong and hamper Niall for life. It could become his disability later on. He didn't say that, though, because his hand said something else for him as it reached out and latched onto Niall's uninjured hand. Just for a moment, for a fleeting second.

Ken was aware of Jem and the others watching them, but he no longer cared. He didn't care to care. If they cast him out for this, then they were the ones losing out on a damned good hunter, and Ken knew that they needed him more than they needed to justify their prejudice and ignorance. If he'd had this kind of confidence ten years ago, things might have been different. Niall might not have fled and Ken... he might have lived a happier life, too.

"Wait for me. At the clinic." The meeting would be quick; it was just so Jem could debrief him on their progress up to this point. The young lad that had been silent thus far had sidled up, and when Ken dropped his hand, the lad's replaced it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I was thinking of it, yes," Ken nodded, eyes still on Gregg's nervous partner. Why was he so nervous? It was very suspicious and had Ken not been on a schedule, he might have investigated further. As it was, he trusted that Gregg had the newbie under control. Gregg was mostly a no-nonsense type, much like Ken himself, so he knew that the job would be done right--with or without a nervous newbie tailing him.

"We're meeting at a diner in Hazleton to discuss what he's been working on." Ken looked down at his watch and then his brows lifted. "I should go. My bus will be here soon."

He held out a hand to Gregg and a rare smile broke out. "Good luck out there, Gregg."

"Help?"

Ken's eyes raked over Gregg's partner again, taking in the nervous, overly wide smile on his face and the way that he clutched at Gregg like a lifeline. Help, was it?

Having been in the area for a while, Ken knew most of the other hunters by reputation if not by sight. Gregg's group was a small one, but a hard-working one. Gregg himself didn't stand out much beyond the tattoos, but Ken knew him to be dependable and stoic. Kept his head down, did his job--what more could one ask of a hunter?

He nodded and held out a hand to the 'help' and while his expression didn't change, his gaze became more curious and less appraising. It was jarring to see Gregg, of all people, being touchy-feely with someone but... it also reminded him of his own past. When there were no eyes on him, he might have indulged in the same type of behavior. Back home, that was hazardous to his health; here it seemed natural. At least, for non-hunters it was.

"I'm Ken."

"O-oh. I'm A-aldon!"

The man thrust a hand out and shook Ken's enthusiastically. Or so it seemed. But Ken could feel the nervous tension and his gaze flicked to Gregg. "New to the team? How's Jem and the others?"