raith_rogue (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
raith_rogue) wrote2011-09-06 10:25 pm
raith_rogue) wrote2011-09-06 10:25 pm
Entry tags:
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.
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.