To Kill a Puck--Family Matters

Thomas strode into Lara’s office without hesitating, leaving a shocked Justine staring after him, looking surprised and a little hurt. “Where is he?” he demanded, placing his palms flat on the large desk and leaning toward her, intense and angry.

“Why Tommy, what a surprise to see you,” Lara drawled, looking unfazed by the daggers he was glaring at her. “Where is who?”

“You know damn well who. I told you you couldn’t have him, so you took him yourself,” Thomas snarled, somehow managing to resist the urge to hurdle the desk and wrap his hands around her neck. “And I’m here to take him back.”

Lara blinked a few times, sitting back. “Oh dear. Have you misplaced your thrall, brother dear? That is the problem with pucks. So fickle. He must have agreed with me on one point; you weren’t enough to keep him satisfied.”

“Don’t. Play. Games. With. Me,” Thomas gritted out from clenched teeth, his eyes silver as he pulled on his demon’s energy, ready to fight for Robin if he had to. “Neither of us want this to get physical, so just return him to me and we’ll leave.”

“No, we don’t. So messy,” Lara agreed, patting her perfectly cascading blue-black curls. “But I’m afraid I don’t have your little toy. I have other concerns at the moment, and plenty of other delicious bucks to satisfy my Hunger.”

Thomas looked at her for a long moment. He knew the latter was true, but if Lara wasn’t keeping Robin...the other options just weren’t ones Thomas wanted to think about. Dead, captured by enemies, or...simply done with him, none of them would ease the tight knot of pain and worry he’d carried in his chest the last two days. He had to be here. That was all there was to it.

“Give him back to me and you will have my full assistance with your little...Malvora trouble,” Thomas answered calmly, much more calmly than he felt.

That got a reaction from Lara, small and brief thought it may have been. “...Why Tommy. And here I thought surely you’d forgotten how to be a true Raith, considering the company you keep these days. Speaking of which, if you’ve truly misplaced your pucktoy,” she smiled at the phrase, “why aren’t you asking your little wizard...friend for help? Isn’t that what he’s good for? Helping those in need?” She pursed her lips as if tasting something slightly unpleasant.

Thomas didn’t need the reminder that as he knew her secret, she knew his as well. And he didn’t care to explain that Harry and Robin had a rousing mutual dislike club going that made him reluctant to go to his brother for help, especially when there were other avenues to explore first. “If I find out you’re lying to me, you will live to regret it,” he said softly.

Lara laughed that maddening, melodic laugh of hers. “Dear brother. Remember where you are. Lies are everything--save when the truth is more fun.” She smirked and bent her head over the document in front of her. “Now if we’re finished, I’m quite busy. Do show yourself out. You know the way.”

Thomas clenched his fists at his sides, briefly contemplating sororicide. Then he turned and walked out, giving Justine a small nod as he passed, not letting himself really look at her. If Lara wanted to play coy, he’d just have to come back and see for himself. He knew these grounds as well as she did, knew how to get in and out without being detected--and he knew all of the best places to keep a prisoner...or hide a body.

Tomorrow then. He’d come back tomorrow night, and if Robin was there, Thomas would find him and get him out. What happened after that was up to Robin.

Lara looked up after Thomas turned away, watching him go with shrewdly narrowed eyes. So the puck was more than a thrall. Her brother had gone and done it again, he hadn’t learned after what had happened with Justine.

“Oh, Tommy. You sentimental little idiot,” she murmured, shaking her head. Now. How could she use this knowledge for her own purposes?

To Kill a Puck--A Plea for Help

Thomas and Harry and done a pretty good job of avoiding each other for the most part, ever since the whole thing with Molly had happened. But Robin had been missing for four days now, with not a word, Thomas had broken into the Raith family home and ascertained for himself that the puck wasn’t anywhere on the premises, and he’d even broken down and tried a tracking spell that had either not worked, or...or other options that Thomas wasn’t thinking about. At any rate, it had picked up not even the slightest trace of the puck. Whether that meant he was dead or too far away for Thomas’ limited skills remained to be seen.

And that was why he found himself looking at the door to Harry’s apartment that evening, just standing there for a few nervous moments to try to compose himself. He was pretty sure he could count on Harry’s help, even for Robin. Especially since Robin was Harry’s client, and if he ended up dead, he would be very unlikely to settle the bill. Normally there would be no doubt at all in Thomas’ mind, of course Harry would help. But this week had been pretty much nothing but doubt, with his friends Worry and Fear singing backup. Thomas ran his fingers through hair that hadn’t seen a single product in a few days. At least it matched the faint dark circles under his eyes. Sleep had not come easily, and had not stayed long.

He took a deep, unsteady breath and reached out to knock almost timidly at the door.

Of anyone that Harry expected to be on the other side of that door, Thomas was not it. His eyebrows raised in obvious surprise though he tried to school his expression.

“...did you lose your key?”

Thomas shook his head, folding his arms over his chest. “I didn’t want to interrupt...anything.” He pressed his lips together, feeling like he was about to fall apart the second he saw Harry. But he kept it together and added, “Can I come in?”

Harry’s expression soured, because the last thing he’d wanted to do was become estranged with Thomas, but...naturally that was what had happened. “I’ll put a sock on the door,” he said dryly, then stepped back from the door in invitation.

Thomas just nodded and stepped inside, looking around the place as if he’d never seen it before. “I need your help,” he said simply, without preamble, biting his lip briefly.

Whatever else was wrong between them--and there was more than there should be, probably--Harry would never refuse Thomas aid. He nodded as he shut the door. “What’s wrong?”

Thomas wandered into the kitchen, randomly opening Harry’s cupboards in search of alcohol. He should have just brought his own, but he hadn’t. “Robin is missing,” he admitted in a low voice. “We had a--he left on Sunday, and I haven’t been able to get ahold of him since. I need you to track him so I can make sure he’s okay.” And if he was, then Thomas would let him go. If Robin was okay and just avoiding him, what else could he do?

A muscle in Harry’s jaw tensed, and he sighed a little, because, naturally, he should have known. Who else could make Thomas so concerned? Who else meant as much to Thomas, except maybe Justine?

“Yeah, okay,” he agreed. “You have any uh...DNA on you?”

“Shit!” Thomas slammed a cupboard, nearly breaking it free of its hinges. “No. I don’t have anything.” He took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. “I can probably find some hair or something, back home...”

“It’s okay,” Harry said quickly, warily. “I can do the spell without it.” He studied Thomas for a long moment, then turned his back, heading downstairs to the lab. “Hey, Bob--need a tracking spell, pronto.”

Thomas sank against the counter, giving up on his search for alcohol as he heard the skull reply, “Do I get overtime pay?” He hesitated for a long moment, then slowly moved toward the opening in the floor that led down to the lab, descending into the room that he avoided most of the time, mostly for safety’s sake.

“I’ll take you to the double feature on Friday,” Harry promised. “Sandra Bullock.”

A disdainful sigh emanated from within the skull. “I’d rather a Mila Kunis.” The disembodied voice turned hopeful. “Isn’t her new slutty movie out?”

“Tracking spell,” Harry said, pointedly. “And then we can negotiate.”

He looked up when Thomas came downstairs, but simply nodded, then proceeded to move around the room, collecting the ingredients that Bob rattled off.

“So...why’d he take off?” he asked, because, well...he couldn’t not.

“I don’t know,” Thomas started, sinking down onto the bottom step before elaborating. “He met Lara.” Met her quite intimately, but Harry would figure that out in context soon enough. “I don’t think he liked feeling like food. And then he freaked out when we got home and said he needed to get some air.” His voice dropped to a near-whisper. “He never came back.”

It was more than Harry had expected to get, but then again...he and Thomas knew each other intimately. In ways that transcended whatever physical bond sex could give. “He is a puck,” he pointed out, quietly. “A fae. They’re not exactly known for their...dependability.”

In a cauldron he shredded a paper map of Kin, then added the sole of an old shoe, one well traveled through the streets of Kin. Next was a generous dollop of alcohol--what Harry expected was the source of Robin’s wandering, not that he would say to Thomas’s face. Finally, he added a pinch of dirt from Fae to call to Robin’s nature, and a handful of wind.

“I know,” Thomas answered quietly. “I just want to know that he’s all right. If he doesn’t want to come back...” Then he would deal. “I just need to know if he’s alive. I tried to find him myself, and...nothing.”

Harry nodded again. “Okay,” he said simply. While the mixture reduced, the scent of rubber and alcohol making him wrinkle his nose, he carried the cauldron to the scale model of Kin City. He channelled his magic, inhaled, then exhaled. “Paso paso!” he said, flinging the mixture into the air.

Most of it fizzled, but some mist held, like faint smoke, leaving a trail on the streets, retracing Robin’s last known steps through Kin.

Thomas got to his feet and came over to look, hands shoved in his pockets. He looked at the trail, then at Harry with a questioning look. He didn’t know what the hell he was looking at, what it told them.

Harry glanced up at Thomas when he came close. “So...this basically retraces his last steps in Kin.” He followed the trail with his eyes, and then pinpointed where it stopped. “So...huh. Not a whole lot of traction for someone who’s been gone for almost a week.”

Thomas stared at the end of the trail, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “So where is he now?”

“Based on this?” Harry tilted his head, looked back to the pot, and shook it out over the map once more. “Punta,” he added, putting a little force behind the command.

The smoke swirled, coalesced to a single point, which was...in the middle of the sidewalk.

“...apparently, standing right there. Which is...odd. The trail should be moving.”

“Maybe he’s not moving,” Thomas replied, surveying the model and fixing in his mind the spot indicated. “Thanks,” he added, turning to head back up the stairs. He’d have to move fast if he didn’t want to lose Robin again before he had a chance to talk to him.

“Wait.”

Harry turned back to his shelves and rummaged until he found his map of doorways into fae. He hummed as he consulted the map, and then handed it to Thomas, pointing to a particularly large red dot. “There’s an entrance there. A weak spot.”

Thomas’ shoulders slumped a little. If Robin was in the Nevernever...that probably meant he wanted to be. He took the map and nodded, heading for the door again. “Guess I’m going on a field trip,” he muttered. It probably meant he wanted to be, but Thomas wasn’t taking a chance. He’d get it directly from the puck’s mouth.

Harry turned back to Bob, preferring to regard the skull rather than his brother. “Not alone,” he said quietly.

Thomas stopped and looked back at Harry. “Are you sure? You don’t have to.” He knew Harry didn’t like Robin...okay, loathed him. Harry’d done his part of the job, he’d tracked Robin down. Thomas would do the rest on his own if he had to.

“I know that.” Harry turned back around, and his expression was fierce. “But you’re not doing this alone.” You don’t know what you might find, he didn’t add.

Thomas regarded him for a moment, then gave a nod and a faint smile. “I need to gear up. Meet me there in a half hour?”

Harry mirrored the smile, his body unconsciously mirroring his posture. “Half an hour.”

“Thank you.” Thomas looked at Harry for a moment or two more, expression torn, then he turned and jogged back up to the main floor to let himself out.

To Kill a Puck--Endgame

Thomas went to the spot they’d been shown on the miniature Kin in Harry’s basement, forcing himself to stay in the car until Harry arrived, because a man in a leather jacket that maybe bulged here and there pacing in front of a random building was a good way to draw attention, and that was the last thing they needed right now.

The beautiful man in the leather jacket was joined by another, not so beautiful man in a leather jacket. Harry’s pockets didn’t bulge, but the handle of his blasting rod stuck out of one. His hand was curled around his staff, fingers decorated with bright metal rings and his wrists were wrapped with criss-crossed leather straps--not for the purposes of fashion. The rings charged kinetic energy, giving him a “turbo charge” of firepower when channelled. The leather was also imprinted with protective sigils designed to shield or repel certain energies, including Fae.

Thomas nodded curtly at Harry, game face in place as he climbed out of the car and headed for the nearby alleyway. “Let’s go,” he said, cool and calm--until the very fabric of space ripped open before he could even tell Harry to do it. He looked over at his brother. “Did you do that?”

“...no.”

His hand tightened around his staff, watching the portal warily.

Willy was the first to come through the portal, and as he came into view a small, dusky-skinned woman stepped out from the shadows, her eyes fixed on the puck as he followed Willy through.

“Ah, hello my friend,” Willy greeted the woman, not entirely sincerely but with a big, fake smile. “Have you been waiting long? As you can see, he is quite safe with me as promised.”

“Yes, you have performed admirably, thank you,” Seraglio replied, not moving from where she stood.

“Then I return him to your care.” Willy bowed with a flourish and stepped back through the glowing portal, drawing it closed behind him.

“What the fuck? Robin!” Thomas called as the fae disappeared back into the Nevernever. The six people that stepped out to flank Seraglio, each with a weapon drawn and ready, stopped his movement before he’d taken more than a step toward Robin.

Robin and Willy had not been drinking for that long - or at least, to Robin it had not felt like that long - when Willy had suggested they return to the world at large, and Robin had somewhat reluctantly agreed. He was pleasantly drunk but not sloshed - not enough to cause much of a delay between registering the identity of who awaited him on this side of the portal, and putting the pieces finally together.

He’d been expecting this, after all. Not her. But this.

What he was confused about was Thomas’ presence here, even though the surprise in his voice reeked of coincidence. Robin wanted to bitch slap the universe for that one. If he’d been a wizard he would have held up a hand and thrown him clear across the street. As it was, he settled for completely ignoring him.

“Seraglio,” he said, and could practically hear the resignation in his own voice.

“Tammuz,” she said, and inclined her head. “Herdsman. Pan. Oh, our God. Our never forgotten, fleeing God.” She smiled, and it was beautiful and terrible. “How we have missed you.”

Harry had immediately been on the defensive upon seeing Willy. So much for a neutral party, he thought, wryly. When the fae disappeared he turned his attention to the woman holding the gun. And then the six men who appeared behind her. He glanced at Thomas, then Robin. “You pretended to be a god?” he asked, incredulously.

“Like you’ve never given a fake name?” Robin said. Breezy. Trying to ignore the cold twisting of guilt in his chest.

“You knew,” Thomas said quietly to Robin, keeping his gaze on the seven figures pointing guns at them. “You knew who it was and wouldn’t say.” But even as he made the accusation, he slid closer to Robin, a united front. Guns would slow him down, but he could probably take a few of them out on his own before he fell. It might not be enough.

Despite Robin’s intention to ignore Thomas, two words escaped him: “Not who.” And with the barest hint of betrayal in his tone. Because, damn it all, he’d liked his housekeeper. He’d damned near respected her, which was more than he could say for most people. He looked at her, ignoring Thomas and Harry again. “I’d ask what you want, but I’m sure I already know.”

"The Banu Zadeh tribe does not forget slights, no matter how old,” Seraglio said, watching him intently with cold eyes. “No matter how many thousands of years pass... the slight of a god is a shame to a people that cannot be forgiven or forgotten.”

She too was holding a gun, and her finger tightened on the trigger. “Babylon is no more. Our tribe has dwindled...” She gestured to the men with guns. “To what you see before you. And we have you to thank for that. Because you deserted us!” Her voice became a hiss. “The sickness came, and the fury of the mightiest storm the desert had ever seen. Within months, half the tribe was dead. You took your presence, your protection... and now we are all but gone from the world. Because of you. But.” Her smile returned. “The ancestors you spared have allowed their descendants to claim vengeance. We are all that are left, but I think it will be enough.”

Harry moved to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Thomas, and clenched his fingers into his fist, drawing his energy. “Robin’s harder to kill than he looks,” he offered, helpfully.

“And he’s not alone,” Thomas added, drawing his cavalry saber smoothly.

Robin shot Thomas and Harry a glare. Damnit, he was trying not to draw attention to them. He looked at Seraglio, just hoping she and her cohort were more interested in him. “I would ask why you didn’t just kill me in my sleep... but that’s why you stole the bracelet, isn’t it? You were making sure it was me. And by that time I’d already moved out.”

Seraglio pulled the arm band out of her pocket and threw it at his feet. “I should not have been surprised when you disappeared. Six nights out of seven you were gone whoring, fooling others into believing you’ll never leave them as you left us. Besides, we know better than to face a god on his home territory where he is the strongest. So we sent our agents instead. And then I enlisted the assistance of one of your many conquests. It was not difficult, you clearly do not inspire great loyalty.”

She sneered. “I do not believe you deserve this death, a warrior’s death. You destroyed us as a people... but we will be more honorable than you. Lay down your sword.”

It was not a sword so much as a very long knife, but Robin pulled it from its sheath in his trousers and dropped it to the ground with a clang. “There aren’t many who aren’t,” he said matter-of-factly. And then his voice dropped lower. “And if you are truly honorable, you will let them go.” He nodded almost imperceptively at Thomas and Harry. “They’ve done nothing to you. It is me you want.”

“And I’d be happy to hand him over to you,” Harry cut in, drawing the woman’s attention back to him. “Really. He’s been a pain in my backside since we met. But....”

He glanced at Robin again and exhaled. “...he also saved the lives of people I care about. So, as much as I’d like to turn him over to you...I owe him.”

He stepped forward, blocking Robin and Thomas as he spread his arms wide. “And I pay my debts. With interest. Fuego!” A wave of fire roared from his fingertips towards Seraglio and her minions.

Thomas was very good at taking cues from Harry. The moment the fire was unleashed he was a blur of movement, and he didn’t pull his punches just because they were human. They were also insane and homicidal, and that meant that they would die if they had to. He took the two on the far right before either could get a shot off, and when the bullet from one of the others punched through his calf he didn’t make a sound, gritting his teeth against the pain to keep fighting.

Robin could have killed them. Clearly they had no appreciation for a puck’s completely unnatural attempt at self sacrifice. Seraglio didn’t even have a chance to respond, and suddenly there was a fight. Robin whipped out the two knives that he still had strapped to his calves - but it was too late. He was too slow, Seraglio’s finger was already tight across the trigger. He froze when he saw the look in her eyes.

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry,” he blurted as the turmoil unfolded around them, like the eye of a storm. “Not for what you think, but - “

It was worth nothing, he could tell from her expression. He threw the knife perhaps a millisecond before he felt the white hot pain lance through his neck. His hand flew up to blood spurting from his throat.

Harry was always surprised when he saw Thomas move like that--fight like that. Like the predator he kept himself from being every other moment of his life. As two of the henchmen went down, Harry reached for his gun. He didn’t like to use it, but in this instance....

Another henchman fell, but so did Robin, and Harry and the remaining henchmen turned to stare.

Thomas didn’t notice when Robin was hit. He was moving, spinning, finishing the man that Robin’s thrown knife brought down, then the other, and he didn’t pause as he finally fought his way to Seraglio. He spun, the saber swinging in an arc that severed head from body. As Seraglio’s corpse fell, he looked around, pale skin even paler and eyes shimmering silver, to make sure there was no one else.

That was when he noticed. “Robin.” He mouthed the word, no sound escaping him, and then he was moving back across the alley to Robin’s side.

Robin was on his knees, fingertips pressed to the wound on his neck, blood pouring through them. When he spoke, there was a gurgling sound in his voice. “I guess gods do bleed.” His eyes were unfocused, and there was blood on his lips. So much for the damn bullet-proof vest. “I’m sorry,” he said to Thomas, and it was entirely unclear whether he meant to him, or for whatever deeds he had done to others to bring him to this point. And then his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he slumped onto Thomas, fingers falling, blood gushing.

“No.” Thomas caught Robin as he fell and dropped to his knees, easing him to the ground. He didn’t even feel his own gunshot wound, his eyes still a shimmering silver as he pulled Robin’s head onto his lap, pressing his hand over the wound as if he could hold the blood in better than Robin had. “No, no, no, no, no! Robin!” He looked around wildly, his eyes falling on Harry with a glazed expression that sharpened. “Open a Way to the Nevernever,” he demanded of his brother, every muscle in his body taut.

Harry barely had time to comprehend the look on Thomas’s face. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to. He lifted his staff with a barely perceptible nod of his head and closed his eyes, willing the gate between worlds to open. “What are you going to do?” he asked, almost as an afterthought.

Thomas gathered Robin’s unconscious body in his arms as if he weighed nothing and rose to his feet, heading quickly for the newly opened Way. “Save his life,” he answered quietly, stepping through the gate. Later he would let Harry berate him for his stupidity, yell at him and kick his ass, whatever he wanted to do. But he couldn’t let Harry stop him. He couldn’t lose Robin, and there was only one being he could think of that might be able to save him in time.

Harry watched him go, wondering if it might be the last time he saw his brother, or the puck, and nodded again, lifting two fingers in a salute before he raised his staff again, closing the Way behind them. He had no idea what Thomas had planned--or if there was a plan, but there had been a fierce determination he’d never seen in his brother before, and he didn’t doubt that if there was a way, no matter how unsavory, Thomas would find it.

To Kill a Puck--Aftermath

Thomas didn’t pay much attention to his surroundings as he crossed into Faerie, beyond searching for somewhere to comfortably set Robin down. He found himself in a field and knelt, setting Robin on the ground and keeping his hand pressed to the puck’s neck where his lifeblood was doing its best to leave him. “Hold on, Robin. Just hold on,” he begged softly, then threw his head back and called out to the only creature he could think of to ask.

“LEANANSIDHE! I CALL YOU!” He waited a moment, looking around, listening for the fae’s approach. When he heard and saw nothing, he tried again. “LEANANSIDHE!” He closed his eyes, counted to three, and took a breath to call once again. “L--”

“You needn’t shout, pet,” Lea remarked from behind him, making Thomas jump. He glanced back at the faerie, absently noting her inhuman beauty and then disregarding it. “Though your daring in summoning one of my caliber must be commended,” she added in a purr that had steel beneath it.

“I need your help,” Thomas said simply, pressing his hand harder to Robin’s throat. “Lesser fae may not be able to provide the service I’m requesting.”

Lea circled around him, looking at the bleeding puck and clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “Clumsy of him to have allowed such a wound. I would have expected better of a trickster.”

Thomas didn’t care what Lea’s opinion was. He cared about one thing. “Can you save him?”

Lea laughed that musical laugh of hers, sending a shiver down Thomas’ spine. “Silly little phage. Of course I can. But what can you do?”

Thomas bowed his head. “I will be in your debt. One favour to be redeemed at your desire.” He looked up and added, “But I will not be your property. I don’t like dogs.”

Lea smirked and shook her head, nudging Robin’s hip with a slippered toe. “I am afraid, child, that the price is steeper than that.”

Thomas narrowed his eyes. “Name your price, then.”

Lea tapped a shimmering red fingernail against her lips, considering. “In exchange for the puck’s life, you will be at my beck and call for a year and a day.”

“I won’t stay in the Nevernever,” Thomas immediately countered. “You can have my services, but I’m not getting an apartment in the nearest toadstool. And I won’t do anything to Harry.”

Lea pouted a little at that, but finally nodded. “Acceptable terms, my sweet. Now promise thy fealty and seal your fate.” She smiled, catlike eyes bright with triumph.

“I will serve you for a year and a day,” Thomas repeated.

Lea knelt on Robin’s other side, smile widening, looking predatory, and gave Thomas an expectant look, one graceful hand hovering above Robin.

Thomas’ shoulders slumped, but a glance at Robin’s graying face made the words easy to speak. “I pledge my fealty for the agreed period.”

“Thrice said and done!” Lea announced, clapping her hands in delight. “Oh, this will be a treat.” She brushed Thomas’ hand away impatiently and covered the wound with her own. It was only a few moments before she lifted her hand away and bent to slide her lips and tongue over the bloody but healed skin. “Ahhh. Puck blood. Long has it been since I’ve tasted its sweetness,” she exhaled, then sat back. “There. Your beloved trickster will live to see the sunrise, though I make no promises beyond, if he is as careless as he seems.”

Thomas rose to his feet and gave a formal bow. “Thank you. Now will you open a Way so we can return?”

Lea’s eyebrow rose. “That was not part of the deal, phageling. Safe passage will require a further price.”

“You already have me for a year!” Thomas protested.

Lea sighed and shook her head. “Those who dwell among mortals seem to absorb their stupidity,” she murmured. Then she smiled and relented. “A small price, then. A single kiss.”

Thomas’ hand went to his neck where he still bore the scar of the last kiss Lea had given him, but Robin was still unconscious, and he didn’t know how to get back without a lot of trekking through the Nevernever to the places he was familiar with. Trekking with Robin’s dead weight in his arms, after the battle and the bullet wound in his leg just starting to make itself known. “...Fine.”

Lea smiled and gracefully rose, stepping over Robin’s body and pressing her mouth to Thomas’. Cold...it was so cold. And dizzying. It stole Thomas’ breath and made his body react in a way probably very similar to how others reacted to his kiss. It seemed to go on forever and yet when the kiss ended he found himself wishing it wouldn’t.

Until the burning started in his mouth. He hissed and stepped back. “The price is paid. Open the gate,” he growled, the pain growing.

Lea waved a dismissive hand at Robin and started to walk away, halting about fifty yards further where a portal appeared. Thomas gathered Robin gently in his arms and followed, looking through and seeing familiar buildings. Just a few blocks from his apartment, that was good.

Lea slipped behind Thomas and slid a hand into his pants pocket, but before he could protest her hand was gone again, leaving a chilly weight behind. “Keep my trinket on your person at all times, my steward. I will call you when I have need.”

Thomas nodded once and stepped back into the heat of a summer night in Kin.

To Kill a Puck--Confessions of Concessions

Thomas showed up at Harry's door the morning after they'd faced Robin's assassins with coffee and donuts. It wasn't going to be enough to mollify his brother once he found out about the deal Thomas had made, but he had to start somewhere. He knocked with his elbow, hands too full of coffee and baked goods to use his key, and then just prayed that Molly wouldn't be the one to answer.

Molly didn't answer, though it was questionable whether Thomas would recognize the Harry who did. While he was never the best looking guy in the room, in the hours after Thomas's disappearance into the NeverNever, personal hygiene hadn't exactly been a priority. His hair was limp and greasy, and there was shaggy growth of beard covering his face. Upon seeing Thomas, a flurry of emotions passed over his face.

"There better be a crueller in there."

Thomas wrinkled his nose at Harry's disheveled appearance and stepped inside, pushing the bag at Harry. "Of course. I know better than to show up without a greasy, fried peace offering after disappearing on you," he said quietly. "Sorry if you were worried."

Harry took the bag and snorted lightly as he shut the door behind them. "My brother escaping into the Nevernever with a wounded wild fae. Why would I be worried?"

"I said I was sorry." Thomas set the drink holder on the counter and pulled his own coffee free of it. "I had to do something, he was going to die. And he's a puck, you can stop calling him fae." Even though he sort of was.

"So he's not dead?" Harry glanced at Thomas as he dug into the bag. The donuts were even still warm, and he stuffed half of a crueller into his mouth greedily.

"Nope. Completely cured," Thomas answered, not looking at Harry as he said it, keeping very interested in the coffee.

Which could only mean one thing. "What'd it cost you?"

Thomas's lips thinned. "I had to make a deal with Lea."

Harry choked on his donut. "You what?"

"He was bleeding out in my arms, Harry! I had no choice!" Thomas ran his fingers through his hair, taking a deep breath.

It wasn't as though Harry hadn't been there himself. He swallowed the chunk of donut that seemed to go dry in his throat, and glanced at his brother before picking up his own coffee. "What did you have to promise?"

Thomas made sure Harry didn't have a mouthful of coffee; he didn't want to be sprayed with hot liquid when Harry choked at the next part. "...My service for a year and a day," he mumbled, tracing his finger nervously around the edge of the plastic lid on his coffee.

Harry's gaze sharpened immediately. "Tell me you're joking." The coffee and donuts were laid on the table as he moved into Thomas's space. "Thomas. Tell me you're joking. Tell me you didn't actually pledge yourself to her."

Thomas didn't meet Harry's eyes, even when he moved in close. "I get to stay here. And she can't make me hurt you, do anything to you. That was part of the deal," he said quietly.

"Yeah, there's no way around that," Harry muttered, pacing away angrily.

"It'll be okay, Harry," Thomas said quietly. "I'll just serve my time, run a few errands for her, and then it'll be over."

"Right."

Harry stopped and shot Thomas a look. He was still fuming--furious. But he couldn't pin down why. It wasn't just that Thomas had made a deal with Lea.

Thomas gave him a pleading look, turning to face him. "It's temporary. A year? That's nothing. It'll fly by. You'll see." He'd expected the anger, but that didn't make it any more bearable.

Harry's response was a skeptical snort, and then quiet.

"You shouldn't have made the deal," he said finally. "It's not worth it."

It was Thomas' turn to be silent. "...It is to me," he replied at last, his voice low.

"Then there's nothing to say." There was a hard edge to Harry's voice that he didn't recognize. "Thanks for the breakfast. You know where the door is."

Thomas looked like he'd been punched in the stomach. "Harry...please," he said in a voice so soft it was nearly a whisper.

"What?"

Thomas' shoulders slumped and he shook his head. "Nothing." He turned and grabbed the doorknob, pulling the door open to go as requested. "You know where to find me when you're ready to talk to me again." The if he refused to think. When. It had to be when. Being indebted to Lea, that price he was willing to pay for Robin's life. Losing Harry? That he wasn't willing to do, would not do.

He just needed time. Thomas hoped.

Harry watched Thomas turn to go, and shook his head, scrubbed his face. "If I know Lea, you'll see me sooner than that."

"I told you," Thomas said quietly, not turning back around. "She can't make me touch you."

Except that there were more ways to hurt Harry than a direct assault. "That doesn't mean she can't make you hurt me."

But Thomas had specifically worded it, made sure that he couldn't hurt Harry. He was pretty sure he had. Of course he had, that had been an important detail. "It won't happen," he repeated firmly, then reached to pull the door closed behind him.