Conri had remained dead quiet the entire two, nearly three, hours. Takoda had tried to return Nate's attempts at jokes or otherwise entertaining antics, but hadn't been able to hide the fear in his voice. Soraya had been wiping tears and snot from Wren's face for a while now. Over time, the entirety of the Grudges (who weren't otherwise detained on business travels) had gathered in the drawing room- over four dozen people, sitting on furniture, the floor, and eachother, all murmuring in concern and confusion.
As Jack started down the steps, he heard the roar of gathering voices erupt as everyone jumped up and followed Nate out of the room. He stopped halfway down when he saw Nate reach the banister, and breathlessly said, "He's awake- he wants you-" before coming down all the way, passing him, and taking the hit of the fifty-six young adults now hounding him for information.
No hesitation crossed his face as he jumped the railing and stormed up the steps. He'd just enough hearing to catch what Jack had said, over the stampede of grudges which swarmed Jack like moths to a flame. The crowd was so rowdy that even the giant's steps were drowned out by them as he rushed down the hall and into the patient's room.
Of course, there was no way he could be quiet when his wife was ill in bed.
"WHERE IS MY WIFE? HOW IS SHE-"
The ogre's voice announced his arrival, his eyes bouncing off healers in search of Micah. When he found him, he immediately moved to his side, regardless if any tried to halt his passage.
Meanwhile, Cherry had been squished into the middle of the group of those surrounding Jack, pleading for answers. She'd lost sight of Kazuto, who was bound to be somewhere towards the front.
"How is he?" "Did he pull through?" "Is Micah going to be okay?" "Is he dead?"
The same types of questions repeated and morphed into incomprehensible garble as they were spoken one on top of each other. She pressed her hands together, hopeful-- after all, he had rushed down. Jack wouldn't be in quite so much of a rush had the news been anything negative for the group.
Jack nodded to his children, fumbling around the pockets in his trousers to find any available cigarettes. "He's alive, he just needs quiet." He said, not so quietly. Some of the Grudges lowered their voices, and proceeded to tell the others to do the same. Finding a cigarette, Jack lifted it to his lips before suddenly rearing his face back and dropping the thing, alarmed by the Excalibur's potent smell - one that he now associated with the horrible scene upstairs.
"If he needed quiet, you shouldn't have let Nate up there." Jested one of the Grudges, bravely offering some humor.
Their father cracked a little smile, "That's true, but he's tired and doesn't know-"
"Did Micah try to kill himself?!"
A wave of iciness fell over each of them, silencing the hall. Jack's tired expression grew dark and sharp with a furious pain, and he whipped his head towards whoever had asked.
"NO! This was an accident!" He snarled, "Micah would never do that to us and you know better than to think otherwise! Don't you ever mention that again."
The Grudges were no fools, and they had a hard time believing that Micah accidentally used a drug that he'd been taught (they'd all been taught) would kill him, even with a minor dose. But they also couldn't wrap their heads around the concept of him hurting himself. Micah was the one that could find the good in any situation, and had always kept everyone together throughout the years of ups and (very serious) downs. The man was never sad, and not in a deflective, avoiding-his-demons way, The man was simply never sad.
...But Jack knew. Everyone has a threshold of pain, and Micah's had certainly, unexpectedly, been reached.
In the room upstairs, the healers were discussing the situation with eachother and keeping close watch on the scene as Nate joined his brother.
Micah was pale, his complexion past white and almost yellowed with blood loss. The black veins from the wound in his arm had traveled into his shoulder, drawing ever closer to his heart over the past few hours. There were leeches strategically placed over the poison's travels and destination, in a clear attempt to remove the substance. The bed, pillows and sheets were completely soiled with black sludgey vomit and blood that smelled burnt, but Micah was quite content to lie in it so long as he wasn't coughing. When Nate reached his side, he lifted his hand out to him, to grab anything of his, any fragment of his best friend.
"Dear, you came to see me." He said softly, wearily attempting to raise his voice into the usual goofy female tone he'd use to speak to the man.
The healers had to assume the men went mad. Those who were out of the loop and summoned to the estate without prior experience were never prepared for the two's unique relationship. One of them even blushed and turned away, connecting the wrong dots between the two while another healer sighed hopelessly. It was a headache for everyone but the couple in question.
Nathan scooped up his wife's hand as delicately as he knew how. He'd heard the attempt at playing with him and responded in turn, dropping to his knees and sniffling loudly.
"Of course I have!" His own voice changed in tone, specific to his act as Micah's husband: lower in pitch and dipping at the end of his sentences. So obviously acting, but the jokes never went stale. "I care very deeply for my wife. And all the neighbors are so, so worried, honey. They're waitin'-- waiting downstairs for you."
The relief he felt to speak in that tone again with him was immeasurable. He pressed Micah's hand up to his cheek, the ogre's eyes staring at his romance partner's akin to that of an abandoned pup.
"But I'm so glad to hear your voice, my love. I'll take you on the best honeymoon once you've recovered. And it's about time I renewed my vows to you."
While the silliness was contained to Micah's room, downstairs took a much more somber tone with Jack and the others. Kazuto bit his tongue as their father spoke words into law. They were old enough to understand Micah's actions, unlike with Abby. Skepticism flashed on all their faces as they looked one to another, unable to voice any further thoughts on the matter. To him and Cherry, they could recall the sight of Samma and him together. Swiping a hand gently along his chest, he felt for one of the wound from days' prior, held together and healing by his own Oni's strength and bile. His side continued to sting, worsened by his earlier running to gather what he could for Micah. Through his shirt black dripped as he pressed one of the towels against it to hide the reopened injury.
"When can we see him?" Cherry had piped up and asked, cutting through the prolonged silence.
A little laugh escaped Micah's throat, followed by the start of a cough- which he managed to quickly bring to a stop, making all of the medics in the room sigh with relief.
When he spoke again, it was in his natural voice. "Thanks for comin'... Sorry to... make a big deal out of things." He waved his free hand a little when he said this, making it sound like everyone was making a fuss over nothing. "Didn't mean to make the day worse for you guys." He took in a wheezing breath of air, "You okay...? Everybody okay...?"
"Not today, I'm sure." Jack answered Cherry, picking up the cigarette he'd dropped. "Nate's an exception because they're married. (at that, he managed to make most of them smile) I want all of you to go make use of yourselves. Don't sit around and think. Go get some food, visit Alessandro, read, exercise, work, shop, whatever it is that keeps you busy. Stay together, I don't want any of you alone today." As the crowd began to obediently move and disperse, he added over the voices, "Try to come up with something to make your brother smile when he's joined us again!"
Even Nate's own breath hitched in his throat as Micah started his fit. Thankfully, the moment was brief. The sigh the giant released was both of relief and that of unspoken frustration.
"Now that you're stable, yeah, the gang's a'ight. Jackass's talkin' to 'em right now." He rubbed at the back of his neck, wiping away the fact that he'd left them all and bolted upstairs. "All of 'em are together, hopin' you'd make it through." He coughed, putting on his husband-voice. "And now we're all rooting for your swift recovery, my dear. You mean so much to all of us."
The healer had to turn away from the two-- his face bright red as he covered his cheeks. He'd almost knocked over an empty jar as he did so, previously containing some of the leeches inside. As the tear-jerking romance advanced he could only see the loving couple through rose-colored lenses.
Nate had heard the rustling behind them yet hadn't reacted, his eyes full and focused on the love of his life. How was he supposed to be complete without her?
"But, uh, how're ya feeling now? I mean-- you alight? Shit, y'know what I mean. If ou ever wanna-- need to talk, you know I've gotcha's back. Like always. Runnin' with whatever ya feel like improvin'."
There was something different about their interaction, once the silly voices fell away. A melancholy, heavy distance- one that had never been there before. In the way Micah avoided his companion's gaze, and the shallow way he scoffed everything off, something was just...different.
"Yeah, you always got my back." He said, with a smile that looked sad. "I'm fine, I'm just fine. Don' worry about it."
Behind them, the door quietly opened, and their faithful father stepped in. With a low voice, Jack spoke to the medics and caught up with the situation, not looking very relieved after their report.
"Nate," Micah continued, giving the poisoned veins along his arm a somber glance before looking over at him, "I, ah...You...You know I love you, right?" His bloodshot eyes watered and his voice cracked, "-Cuz I do, I love ya." The weak grip he had on Nate's hand tightened. "And I'm sorry, I'm sorry for this. If I don't- If I- I'm so sorry. I just, I couldn't-" A cough ground his sentence into pieces as it came up from his throat. Bright red blood started dripping from the corners of his mouth, and Duran hurried over in alarm.
"Alright, talking is a bit too much right now it seems- I'm sorry, young masters, I'm afraid I have to ask you to leave us again!"
Jack stood frozen for a moment, watching Micah heave with what little energy he had left and wondering if this was it. He glanced to Nate, as if his son's decision to stay or leave the room would somehow help him make his own choice.
As Micah squeezed, Nate set his free hand atop his, pressing against him gently. He shifted on his knees, adjusting to better hear his words which grew quiet and cracked. Each one stung him, as if he didn't know Micah's true feelings already. They weren't said goofily for all the kiddos to hear; husband and wife fawning over each other. No. They were raw, spoken as what could be the end.
Nate tightened his grip, but only for a moment before Duran intercepted the two's interaction. Pain crossed his features as wrinkles formed across his forehead as he held onto him a second longer than he should've.
"Love ya too, bud. Keep fightin'-- I still need ya."
While he didn't rush his words, he did quicken them as one of the female healers pulled him away. Back towards where Jack was left, out of the line of work from supplies to patient.
"I'm stayin' right here. I'ma at least be in the room, whatever happens." He insisted, speaking to the one soul in the room who might've listened to him. The healers were already getting to work as Nate pressed himself against a wall, trying to make himself take up the least amount of space possible.
"Micah-" Jack stuttered, as the boy disappeared from sight behind the healers rushing to his aid. "Micah!" He flinched when a woman took his arm and attempted to tug him out of the room, his voice raising into a yell.
"No! That's my son! Get the fuck off me-!" Throwing the nurse back and sending her stumbling hard into the wall, he pushed through the group of medics.
Micah wasn't moving. His eyes were still staring, skin blueing, mouth parted. "𝕸𝖎𝖈𝖆𝖍, 𝖜𝖆𝖐𝖊 𝖚𝖕," Jack hissed, his voice lowering into hellish octaves. Smoke poured out of his jaws and nose, filling the room with just a few furious breaths. The aids began coughing and choking on it, grabbing at him.
"S-Sir, please!"
"Oh fuck don't breathe it in, get out- get out of here!"
Jack leaned over and shook the boy, ignoring them. "𝕸𝖎𝖈𝖆𝖍, 𝖜𝖊'𝖗𝖊 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖉𝖔𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖘, 𝖜𝖆𝖐𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖋𝖚𝖈𝖐 𝖚𝖕," His eyes were wide and his hand shook as he cupped his son's face.
"𝕲𝖔𝖉- 𝖉𝖔𝖓'𝖙 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖙𝖆𝖐𝖊 𝖍𝖎𝖒 𝖋𝖗𝖔𝖒 𝖒𝖊. 𝕹𝖔𝖙 𝖍𝖎𝖒." He pleaded under his breath for mercy before leaning down, pinching the boy's nose closed and breathing a diaphragm full of hell smoke into his lungs. 𝕺𝖍 𝕲𝖔𝖉, 𝖔𝖍 𝖋𝖚𝖈𝖐. Another breath in, and he could swear there was a heartbeat, somewhere far beneath the crying of the medics who were rushing out of the room that was burning their skin. Another breath. Keep going. Another. Smoke ribboned out of Micah's mouth between the breaths Jack took.
There was a sick, gurgling sound as bile was gradually pushed through Micah's airways, and on the fifth breath he suddenly gasped awake. His eyes were garnet, and Jack recognized the rasping voice of his Oni as it spoke.
"𝔻𝕒𝕕-?"
With an oof, Micah was scooped into his father's arms tightly, and he heard him murmur"Don't you ever do that again- don't make me kiss you again." which made him laugh softly. The young man's skin rushed with warm color, and he took in long, hungry breaths of air. With his head resting over Jack's shoulder, Micah looked for Nate in the room of billowing smoke.
One deep breath in and he felt as though the room had been bathed in roses. A refreshing aroma which made the tension all the more What became a room full of toxins for the healers became something of an elixir for the few Grudges. And man, Nate felt as though he hadn't had a dose in ages.
"Fuckin' hell, Jack." He sighed, barreling his way back up to his brothers. As the healers clawed onto Jack, the giant yanked them back by the collar and tossed them effortlessly towards the exit. Storming up to the door, he gave it a harsh shut after assuring that no others were in the room.
He wished he heard silence. Maybe then he could've relaxed some, knowing his wife was in the arms of his father. Surrounded by a scent that could whisk his Oni back to hell and Micah off to heaven. Instead, he heard a sickening gurgle that made his skin crawl.
For a second, he hesitated. It took a loud gasp for the oaf to swing around, eyes wide as he couldn't tell if it was Micah-- or the leader announcing his last moment.
Shifting through the plumes, he locked eyes with Micah instantly. "Micah," He breathed, barely holding himself together as he once again dropped to his wife's side. "You really- I thought- Oh, hun." Bringing his palm to his face, he scrubbed away the tears beginning to form. "You're banned from talkin' if you're gonna get choked up. Breathe. Hold onto Dad and breathe." Reaching for his wife's hand, he clung onto it tightly, staring through collected tears.
Micah opened his mouth to speak, but instead stayed quiet and nodded obediently with a smile. He held onto Nate's hand with one of his, and clung to Jack with the other.
Their father, pulling his head back a little to glance at the both of them, muttered, "Boys...I love you both. I need you both. You can't go running out on me like this, ah?" He focused on Micah, "Not before me. You wait until I go, before you go on and get your wings, alright?"
Micah looked down shamefully. "𝕀 𝕨𝕚𝕝𝕝, 𝕕𝕒... 𝕀'𝕞 𝕤𝕠𝕣𝕣𝕪."
"...Sorry for what." Jack pressed. "Say it."
When Micah hesitated, his father's expression hardened. "Micah Calico, say what you're sorry for."
The boy swallowed painfully, "𝕀'𝕞 𝕤𝕠𝕣𝕣𝕪 𝕀 𝕥𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕠 𝕜𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕞𝕪𝕤𝕖𝕝𝕗." Jack stared firmly at him before nodding in approval.
"𝕀...𝕀 𝕛𝕦𝕤𝕥 𝕕𝕚𝕕𝕟'𝕥 𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨 𝕙𝕠𝕨 𝕥𝕠...𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕝𝕖..." The fire in Micah's demonic eyes glazed over with tears and his voice quivered pathetically, "𝕆𝕙 𝕘𝕠𝕕, 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕖𝕪𝕖𝕤, 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕓-𝕓𝕝𝕠𝕠𝕕, 𝕀 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕𝕟'𝕥, 𝕀 𝕕𝕠𝕟'𝕥 𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨 𝕨𝕙𝕪 𝕤𝕙𝕖 -..𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕒𝕝𝕚𝕧𝕖, 𝕀 𝕡𝕣𝕠𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕖 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕀 𝕕𝕠𝕟'𝕥 𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨 𝕨𝕙𝕪 𝕀 𝕝𝕠𝕤𝕥 𝕙𝕖𝕣, 𝕀 𝕕𝕠𝕟'𝕥 𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨 𝕙𝕠𝕨 𝕀 𝕝𝕠𝕤𝕥 𝕙𝕖𝕣, 𝕕𝕒𝕕, 𝕓𝕦𝕥 𝕀 𝕝𝕠𝕤𝕥 𝕙𝕖𝕣, 𝕠𝕙 𝕞𝕪 𝕘𝕠𝕕 𝕀 𝕝𝕠𝕤𝕥 𝕊𝕒𝕞𝕞𝕒!" Cringing away from his family, he covered his face with his hands and sobbed, wheezing and trembling.
Jack shook his head, ignoring his own watering eyes as he looked away and reached for the jar of leeches. "No. With her wounds she was lost before you even found her. The bastard that did it is dead, and we'll be paying his family a well-deserved visit when we find them. But none of you, none of you, are to blame. I...didn't realize the severity of the situation and I shouldn't have walked us in without knowing more about it. I brought her in, if anyone other than her murderer is to be blamed, it's myself. For the damage this has brought all of you." Pulling Micah's left arm down to observe the traveling poison, quite vividly black beneath the man's blue tattoos, Jack latched a few additional leeches onto his skin.
"Do you understand that? You did nothing wrong. Do you hear me? Nothing. Fucking nothing." He grabbed Micah's chin and added in a low and furious whisper. "Nothing." The young man nodded reluctantly in reply. Jack stood, sighing another long breath of smog into the room.
"I need to check on the nurses. I'll let you two have your time alone, to make out or whatever." Despite his cold tone, it was a joke and he did as he said, stepping out of the room and shutting the door.
Crimson irises followed Jack out the door, gone before the giant could force him into a hug shared by the three. He himself was the one to hesitate, worried that touching his sickly wife in any way other than holding his hand would cause him to undergo another fit. However, since Micah had retracted that hand to cover his sobs, Nate uncomfortably shifted to fiddling with his thumbs, waiting for a moment of solitude to make out.
Well, that would've been the joke had Micah looked any better than a breathing corpse. Instead, he reached out to comfort his wife, resting a hand gently against the opposite arm from the injection.
"You're one strong sonnova bitch, so you'll be back on your feet in no time. I'll be right here to make sure of it, too." Nodding to himself, he let out an exaggerated sigh. "Y'know Jack's givin' us a lotta time ta think of some new jokes for the lot of 'em. How's about we actually go on that honeymoon after this, yeah? Wherever ya feel like heading to. Make a weekend trip outta it. Someplace nice to relax... Come back with some rings. Or whatever. Getcha mind off everything an' everyone. Or uh, whatev' ya wanna do."
He smiled, having rambled enough. He wouldn't let Jack leave them with an awkward lull in conversation, or discomfort in the situation itself.
"Hangin' out around here's fine, too. Ain't gotta be this extrodinary anythin'.
Just... once all this is said and done and that fucker gets what's comin' to him-- his fam."
Micah smiled but he couldn't bring himself to say much. He put his hand on Nate's arm and slipped further into a crumpled heap on his bed.
"Just stay here...?" He asked quietly, his demon fading and leaving him a tired husk. "Don't leave me...Just stay."
His eyes shut before he could hear his brother's reply, and he slipped into a heavy sleep, Jack's smoke enveloping the two of them.
. . . .
It had been a long morning, followed by a long afternoon, finalized by an even longer evening. Jack's day, after tending to his son, had involved the luncheon (now dinner) between he, the town's mayor, the head nurse, the head captain of Marrow's armed forces, the head management of Marrow's orphanage, and numerous others involved in the caged children situation. It was, like everything else had been, long and immense and only the first of many meetings to be had between the lot of them.
The entire household was caught in both an uproar of rage, and an uproar of grief.
Jack was sitting on a small, carpeted bench in one of the manor's halls on the fifth floor. It was fairly quiet up here, the fifth floor was mostly his quarters. He could hear the muffled voices of family bustling beneath the floorboards, and the hurried steps of staff weaving up and down their servant staircases hidden in the walls. In his hands, he held Samma's oni mask. It had been returned to him by the mortician only a few minutes ago, and had left him needing a sit down.
So he sat. And he sighed. He smoothed his thumb over the side of the mask before giving it a soft kiss on its cheek.
"Sorry I couldn't protect you, baby..." He muttered.
Jack sat for a few minutes in silence before getting up and leaving to his room. He locked the mask away, in a place no one was permitted to enter. The place where all of his lost children's masks stared back at him. And then he left the manor, and walked with his head lower than he'd ever held it before towards a place no one had ever seen him walk into without the tugging of his boys. Placing a cigarette into his mouth, Jack shoved open the swinging doors to The Fair Fauna, Marrow's finest whorehouse.
The building glowed inside with flickering chandeliers of diamonds, and it streamed with the sounds of music and the comings and goings of men and women as they danced together in the decorated rooms of luxury or ran excitedly up the stairs to the bedchambers. The Madame of the house, a tall woman of red hair and fine clothing noticed Jack immediately, her eyes lighting up like a barracuda as she hopped off the arm of a chair and waltzed towards him.
"Why, sir, what a pleasure it is to-"
"I want this one, that one and that one." Jack said gruffly, pointing without much care to three of the girls in one of the rooms to their right. He puffed on his cigarette and nodded to the Madame like a master would to its dog. "I'll be in room seven. Send up a few drinks, would ya." Without waiting, he brushed past her and headed up the stairs, passing Takoda on his way who was left standing on the step with his mouth gaping.
"Lunalle." Several taps on the woman's shoulder caught the attention of the third chosen. Straightened silver hair, almond-colored skin and eyes of sweet caramel. Jack might've picked the women on a whim, yet he couldn't have picked traits further from his last love. She'd attempted to shoo off the irritant, swatting away the finger which prodded at her. However, as she shot a somewhat irritated glare up at her colleague, a word mouthed and not spoken was enough to grant her proper attention away from her latest John.
Calico.
A single sharp inhale. "Ride or die, ladies." Luscious golden locks bounced with every step the woman took towards the stairwell, ruby irises falling behind to assure that the other two followed near after. She'd gracefully held up her long yet sheer dress as she started up towards Jack's private lounge-- and while she wouldn't hint any discomfort in front of her peers, her expression hardly held the same confidence the rest of her body had. At least, not until she found herself knocking on Jack's door. She wouldn't let this opportunity slide, regardless of her nerves.
Lucky number seven.
They trickled into the room one by one; Naia, of course, the first upon him. Lunalle, however, had taken a moment to pour two glasses of wine she lugged up from the ground floor. She tried to forget the sympathetic glances and jealous glares from the other workers, leaving them in the murky reflection on the bottle. One cup done, only one more to pour-- All the while she fought for her life to hold a cough from all that cigar smoke.
Jack had already thrown his jacket and shirt to the floor when the girls had joined him, but he didn't offer them a single glance as he sat on the edge of the bed and sighed to himself, clearly elsewhere in his head.
Vulprine, the third girl, moved with tempered elegance as she sat beside him and plucked the cigarette from his mouth. Before she could puff on it herself, however, Jack had stolen it back and muttered "Oh no no no no- don't want t' be doing that, miss." under his breath.
"What shall I be doing then, hm?" She asked heavily, smoothing a hand down the man's chest and tracing along the large tattoo that covered his ribcage. Jack took hold of her fingers and pulled them away, looking at each of the women.
"Right, girls, here's the thing." He said gruffly past his cig, "First." He pointed at Naia, "I don't want anymore children, so I'll be keeping m' dick to m'self tonight, thank yeh."
"Second." He pointed at Lunalle. "You'll understand that 'm not in the mood for a mind fuck. Just do as I say, alright? Don't play with me, 'm not the man for that. 'M no more your toy than you are mine. This is a business transaction. We're not friends, we're paying and getting paid, all of us."
"And third." Jack said, at last pointing at Vulprine (who flinched slightly under the spotlight), "If you're gonna touch me, give me your hands and I'll show you where they can go. But you don't touch me otherwise. That clear?"
