To Kill a Puck--Endgame

[raith_rogue]

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.