Sidestory:
Ill Luck
by Angie and Morgan
They were at least a mile away; they hadn’t stopped walking since the fight, treading through the dark streets in a kind of black haze. The sound of sirens had finally died and now all was silence except for the rough breathing of the two Graikos. A car alarm sounded in the distance and they tensed. Tired and half-lost, they picked up the pace, scanning the nice house warily. White picket fences and sleeping families. Some people had all the luck.
The irony of the thought was not lost on Jack Reilly as he helped his teammate move forward, step after step. He and Hedy were supposed to be Luck and Chance. True, they had survived the night. So had their other teammates. Their opponents hadn’t been so fortunate. Two definitely were dead and the third… Jack wasn’t sure about the one called Neptune. He might have only been knocked unconscious. Nonetheless, whether that was the case or not, he and Hedy… No, Tyche and Iapetus were responsible for two deaths.
Jack winced and reflexively held Hedy closer to his side, still moving, still walking. As if they could escape what they had done. Little blond Cupid, grey-haired Aesculapius. Dead in a fiery explosion. Coughing slightly, trying to distract himself from the gruesome images, the reptile satisfaction Tyche had felt at the actions, Jack squeezed Hedy’s shoulder. “You… You okay?” he whispered and his voice sounded strange to his ears.
"Fine," came the mumble. If her tone could gauge anything; Hedy was certainly less than fine, in fact she sounded as if she had stumbled into her future and seen her death. It would be fair to say part of her had died. In front of her very eyes. Her head lifted from its bowed position against the wind, her chin tilted down at the grey sidewalk. Her neck creaked as she turnt to look back against the carnage that had laid so easily before them.
Against the inky sky the golden haze of fire rose in twisting tendrils. It looked as if someone had been setting off fireworks. Her breath caught in her throat, causing her to suddenly fall against her feet. She only remained standing because of the close hold Jack had on her. Her senses shut down for a moment as she recalled the feeling of the blaze on her face and the smell of the burning oil, the sickly scent. One hand shot up to cover her ear as the sound of the explosion rang out against the night. Was this how it felt to go mad?
Her two bottom teeth cut deeply into her upper lip as she turned her face toward Jack. If ever she could be compared to a porcelain doll this was it. Not in the manner of the beautiful delicacy, but rather in that she was cracked and broken. Thin lines that had not been there earlier in the night creased her forehead, her eyes, her nose -- her everything. "Did we," she whispered as she relinquished her teeth from her mouth, tasting the metallic flood of pinpricks of blood against her tongue. "Did we," she fumbled once more, her eyelids shutting against the spinning neighborhood. "Did we kill? Because you know what, Jack? I don't remember anything. Nothing. It isn't there. I remember the fire. The explosion. I remember transforming. I remember causing the blonde to jump. Oh, fuck, did I kill her? Did I?" Her voice picked up in a hysterical note as she started to pull away from his hold.
Her hands clutched at the baby seedling planted along the path as she turned away from him. Her knees dug into the young bark as she bent forward -- sick.
“Oh, shit.” Stumbling a bit himself, Jack moved to her side and held her hair back with gentle fingers. “Hedy, I…” There was nothing to say, though. They both knew the truth; between the two of them, they were murderers. Instead, he sighed and adjusted his hold, keeping her hair from her face with one hand while the other arm slid around her, supporting, comforting as best he could as he tried not to give in to his own instinct to shake uncontrollably.
"What?" Hedy cocked her head up at him, the back of her left hand hovering at the corner of her mouth. Her words hung in their bitter tone before she extended one hand to push herself away from him. "You what, Jack?" She curled her arms around herself as she rocked further back from him; her eyes completely unwilling to look at him, unwilling to look at her accomplice in the matter. She killed someone. Even if she could not remember it. The haze descended over her mind like an intricate spiderweb, separating her from the instincts of Iapetus. She entangled her fingers around each other as she took a step back, spinning around on her heel to leave her back facing Jack. "I have to go home." Home. That was a thought.
Jack was nodding even before she had finished her sentence. If he focused on her, his mind was quiet of his own gnawing guilt. “Sure, Hedy,” he muttered. “We’re…” He looked around, frowning at the neat houses around them, the tidy lawns and the… “I’ll take you home.”
Hedy managed a choked mumble that sounded as if it could have been a thanks. She was silent as she waited for him to fall into step beside her. Her head pounded in a whirl of moods and emotions, none of which seemed to reconicle with each other. Her hands uncurled themselves from the other as she extended one out to him. It'd be nice to feel something real, to hold onto something that was solid, that carried weight. "It was just us, wasn't it?" The tone was sad, nothing more and nothing less -- just sad. The violence of her mood from her hysteria to her bitterness seemed to have mellowed some out as she averted her eyes into the corners to look at his profile.
He nodded slowly before taking her much smaller hand in his. Long, artist's fingers wrapping around, he squeezed slightly as if reassuring himself that she was real. "Yeah," he whispered. "It was us... Them."
She exhaled very slowly, her body deflating with the action. "I don't remember," she forced herself to say as she glanced down momentarily at the brilliantly shaded leaves crunching under her feet. "I guess... I wish you had lied to me and said it was Orpheus and Hecate who caused that," she finally murmured as she raised her free hand to press one knuckle into the pad just below her eye. "But I know. I know if I can't recall. Who were they, Jack?" Her words formed awkwardly as she blinked up at him, her grey eyes lost in the storm within.
"... Romanus." Jack's voice was slurred, husky as if he was trying to remember how to use it. His green eyes were fixed straight ahead, unseeing, as they walked. "Cupid and Neptune and Aesculapius and," he paused. "Shit."
She stopped herself from the immediate prompt of what came after his pause. Instead, she repeated his earlier words to her. "Are you okay?"
The look he offered her was obviously an attempt at a rueful smile but the eyes were too haunted and the mouth pulled too tightly. "Not really, Hedy," he admitted after a moment, after giving up on the smile. His hand squeezed hers again, grounding himself. "Just killed someone."
It was a gurgle of hysterical laughter that built up in her throat and escaped in a strange snort. "I wonder how proud Percy will be," she spat out in a tone of disgust. Her hand curved around the back of her neck as she woven strands of her blonde hair around her fingers, pulling on the locks as Jack squeezed her hand. "They're not really dead. They can't be. We ran too fast. We didn't check. Tomorrow the newspapers have to say the stories of three people who survived the blast. Just tell me that."
He was silent for a long time; he seemed focused on getting them to her house as quickly as they could walk. Suddenly, he sighed and ran his free hand through his hair, dislodging some soot. "Maybe," he breathed. "Maybe. I mean, it's chance and luck, right? Gotta be a way of messing it up so they're okay."
Reaching the end of the block, he stopped and tugged her to a halt beside him. Her house wasn't too much farther, he knew. How they had covered so much ground in so little time was a mystery, though. The smile was again forced but his gaze was warm on her, hopeful. "There's a chance, yeah, that it'll be okay."
Hedy forced the corners of her lips to curve upward in a smile that was at best half-hearted. "We cancel each other out, really," she said as she released her hold on her hair to reach for his face. One finger rubbed at a spot underneath his eye, removing the small bit of ash that lingered on his skin. "Yeah, a chance," she muttered as her hand fell from him. "What we really need is some luck." The words were simple; if a little bitter in their underlying tone.
His new attempt at a smile was boyish and lop-sided. "Well, we got... Tyche, huh?"
The gaze she turned on him conveyed the words that refused to come out of her mouth. If they didn't have Tyche, if they didn't have Iapetus... "Yeah, we do," she fumbled as she slowly removed her hand from within his. "Jack, are they really dead?" She used all of her strength to lift her eyes to his, staring.
Jack bit his lip and looked away; he could never lie but, just this once, he wanted to be able to tell her that they hadn't done anything wrong. He never wanted to lie before in his life. He hated lying. Suddenly, he half-turned from her and stared into the distance, posture hunched and miserable. "Yeah, Hedy," he replied finally and each word fell like a stone in a calm pool. "I think they're really dead."
"Oh." The single syllable was pained in a way that words never should sound. "Oh," Hedy repeated as she fought to gather herself together. She was not going to break down on the street before her affluent neighborhood. What would the community think? "I wish it were us," she said in response. "I would rather be dead than THIS." This being the emotions, the uncertainty, the guilt -- the everything that was tearing her apart from the inside.
Silently, the tall artist turned back and pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly. It was hard to tell if he was offering support or claiming it.
Hedy hesitated before she reached her arms to encircle him in her embrace. Her eyes shut as she pressed her face into his chest, the front of his shirt quickly soaking in the silent tears that pooled from her eyes. It felt good to cry.
Resting his chin on the top of her head, he also let his eyes close. Unable to cry yet, he simply held her tightly until she relaxed in his arms. One gentle hand awkwardly rubbed over her back as she cried.
Maybe it had only been minutes, but it felt like hours had lapsed when Hedy finally pulled back from him. "Yeah," she murmured as she struggled to find her voice. Regardless, she still sounded like a small child when she spoke next. "You'll be okay, Jack? We'll be okay." The last fragment was a weak try at convincing the both of them.
His nod was weak but it was still a nod as he let her move away from him. "Yeah, Hedy. Nothing I can't handle." Carefully, then, he took her hand once more. "Okay to walk the rest of the way now?"
"We can handle it together." She twined her fingers into his hand as she turned a half smile toward him. "Yeah, okay. It won't change. Nothing can change. I'm just thankful it was you here."
There was a long moment of hesitation and then Jack took a step in and ducked his head to brush a feather-light kiss over the top of the shorter girl's head. "We're a team, huh?" he muttered as he drew back and then started them walking again. He had to get her home safe and sound soon. Before his own thoughts came out of shock and took over his mind. -He- had to get home. "You'll be okay."
"Eventually." Her response came out in a tone that was streaked with uncertainty. "You'll be okay?" Her return of inquiry came just as they stopped at the foot of her paved driveway. Their arrival set the sensors of the porch light to flicker on, bathing the area in a warm glow. "This is it. Bye, Jack." Her hand slipped out of his grasp as she turned from him. She stopped in an awkward half finished position. "Thanks." For letting her be hysterical, for holding her hair, for holding her hand, for letting her cry; for being her partner.
"Hey." His attempt at a smile looked painful. "Any time. Go on and get some sleep. Call you later?"
"Yeah, sure. Take care of yourself." Her fingers reached to trail against one corner of his lips. "Don't force yourself. It only hurts more." Before the words even fully left her mouth, she had turned toward the steps of the porch and disappeared into the shadows lurking by the door.
He waited until he was sure that she was through the door and safe before he let his shoulders slump forward. Bringing his hands up, he scrubbed mercilessly at his face as he turned to begin the long walk back to center city and his apartment. “Oh, shit,” he whispered, voice strained and rough. “Oh, shit, shit, shit. What did you do, Jackson Reilly? What the hell did you do?”
Somewhere, in the back of his mind, someone smiled, sated and reptilian.