I don’t work well in isolation. Trust me. I’ve tried. When one of the kids ages significantly slower than the other ones, people tend to ask questions. So, when I was younger, every few years, every few months, I would just… go away. Go somewhere else. Attend a different school, avoid a bunch of kids that were my best friends only a year before… You know, the works.

And here I am now. In my adolescence. People ‘my age’ are starting to age slower. I could finally start hanging around people for longer than a single year; form meaningful relationships that I didn’t have to break off just because my friends were literally aging out of me. And now I can’t even do that anymore. They’re getting smarter. Introducing themselves as Sandra or Alejandro instead of Alexander. Wearing long sleeves and bracelets to hide their tattoos. It’s like I can’t even make small talk anymore on the rare occasions I still get to go outside with Walter.

I mean, I get it. I know he’s concerned and it’s really sweet and all, but it’s been two weeks. No offense, I love the guy. He’s like my father, but I need someone new to interact with, to connect with, to touch and to hold and to kiss and… yeah, let’s not go there. I know I’ve always been an affectionate, tactile kid. If I liked something or someone I couldn’t bring myself to express that by not touching them. I guess the discovery of being an incubus only further put that in perspective. Like I’m not only being starved of being touched, but like I’m being starved in general. And, I mean, it’s not like I can go to Walter with this. Physical displays of affection aren’t exactly his thing. Probably because of his upbringing. And besides, he’s already doing so much more than he used to. Comforting touches, hugs, all those things Walter only gave me sparingly in the past, he passed out much more frequently now. I couldn’t possibly ask for more.

I sighed, leaning my head against the cold window where I sat curled in a tight ball, in the windowsill of the library. Walter was continuing his research on the Order of Alexander in the many, many books about the supernatural he had collected over the past century and a half. The library wasn’t as big as Hollywood would have you believe; however, the lacquered hardwood aesthetic, with heavy, leather bound books was on-point. The last two weeks of Walter’s research had yielded absolutely no results, and if father Di Angelo was to be believed, he wouldn’t find anything if he kept looking for another century and a half.

“Find anything yet?” I mumbled, my voice creaking with disuse. It was small, quiet, but enough to pierce the deafening silence.

Walter hummed, not even looking up from the book. His tone was distinctly frustrated with what minimal reply he gave. Guess that means ‘No’.

“Have you even ‘been to work’ this week?” I asked, louder this time around. “Or have you just been reading non-stop? I mean, I know that as an Agent of Death, you don’t have to eat or sleep, but this can’t be healthy.”

“Barclay, please.” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “I’m fine, but I can’t focus like this.”

“Okay, sure, whatever.” I let out a deep sigh, and absentmindedly watched as the moisture from my breath collected as condensation on the cold glass. I ran a finger through it out of boredom, doodling without a clear goal in mind. I stared into the yard through the lines I drew, but… Wait, hold on a second, what the fuck was that?! Through the drawing, I saw a face, a person staring right at me, I scrambled away from the window, falling off the windowsill. “Walter, come, quick! There’s someone in the backyard!”

I struggled to get to my feet as Walter jumped from his chair and ran over to the window. I hid behind him like a scared child, clinging to his vest as he wiped away the condensation with his sleeve. He let out a deep sigh in relief before turning around, smiling reassuringly. “It’s just the bush by the window. It’s alright.”

A sigh escaped me, but wasn’t entirely sure if it was from relief, or if it was a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “I’m sorry.” I mumbled, bumping my forehead against Walter’s chest. “That was dumb, I should have gotten a better look before panicking…” But I could have sworn it wasn’t a figment of my imagination.

“No. No. You’re not blaming this on yourself, you hear me?” Walter said firmly as he tilted my head up, forcing me to look into his acid green eyes. “You’re just on-edge. Besides, I’d rather have you call for help when you might not even be in trouble, than waiting until you really are in trouble. Understood?”

“Understood.” I sighed.

“Good. Now, it’s late, and you’ve been missing out on a lot of sleep lately, so I think it’s best for you to go to bed.” He said as he let go off my face and patted the top of my head.

“I’m not a baby anymore, Walt…” I whined, despite still making my way out of the library and to my bedroom.

“I’ll believe it when you stop behaving like one.” Walter joked, returning to his desk and his research. “Sleep well, Barclay.”

“Night, Walt.”

***

Continued in part 2