‘What?’ Alex looks at him sharply. ‘What did you just say?’

‘That’s him.’ The words are burning coal, choking Hector. ‘That’s Damien.’

Maker, now they’re staring at him like he’s crazy. Alex lifts one hand slowly as if trying to make sure to not startle his brother into flight. Eliav bites his lip. When he speaks, his voice shakes.

‘No, that’s not right, Hector.’ He gestures to the prone figure. ‘That can’t be right, Hector. He’s dead. We went to his funeral.’ 

‘There wasn’t a body,’ Hector says and there’s venom in the words; the kind that begins to taint a phrase you’ve repeated to those who refuse to listen. He presses a hand to his mouth and shakes his head. ‘I know it’s him. That scar…’

He doesn’t get to finish speaking. 

Alex jerks back when Damien Frisk arches his back without warning. Every part of his body is taut as a bow, his eyes blown wide. Hector glimpses their liquid silver before they roll to the back of his head, mouth shaped like a scream. No sound tears out of his throat, but Hector still stumbles back, panicked. Eliav cries out and Alex also makes to move back when Damien thrashes, his broken nails catching Alex’s cheek. He draws blood, though Alex’s magic immediately attends to the wounds. Alex tries to catch Damien’s arms and struggles to pin them down. Hector reaches out—he’s not sure for what or for who, but he knows he has to help someone. His hands are so unsteady the air seems to be trembling with him. 

Suddenly, Damien speaks. 

‘I–couldn’t—’ the words sound more like a moan of terror; a long unused tongue slurring through the effort. The sound sends a hard shudder through Hector’s body. ‘Already—here. Couldn’t stop—’ 

Damien howls. A heartbreaking sound. It propels Hector forward, driving him to his knees. He places one hand on the back of his friend’s neck, and the other on his cheek. ‘Damien,’ he gasps. 

No response. With a last convulsion, Damien falls back into complete unconsciousness, breathing heavier than before. The air whistles through his teeth. 

Did he see me? Hector wonders as Alex lifts Damien in both his arms. With a jerk of his head, he directs the rest of them into the safety of their home once more. As Hector mechanically shuffles to stand by the sofa, he turns to see Alex glance over his shoulder, back at the street. Does he know it’s me?