In the starker light of their living room, it’s even more disorienting to stare at Damien’s face. So much of it was unfamiliar now. How much more beneath the surface?

Alex massages his temples with a deep sigh as Eliav paces about him, chewing on his thumb. Hector kneels beside the sofa, a hand clasped tight around Damien’s fingers. Save for the ticking of the clock, everyone is silent.

Finally, Eliav breaks.

‘So,’ he whispers. ‘What do we do now?’

Hector turns to Alex, and the eldest brother looks surprised. He stares at the both of them and pointedly avoids Damien. ‘What do you mean? We call the hospital. The police. We… call his parents, for the Arche’s sake. His parents.’ Alex presses the ball of his hand into his eyes. ‘I have to sort this out. They’re going to be asking a lot of questions I won’t know how to answer. Everyone will.’ 

‘We don’t need to call the hospital,’ Hector says quietly.

‘What?’ Alex repeats. Annoyance flickers across his features. He pinches the bridge of his nose, as he often did when the beginnings of migraines began to make themselves known. ‘Hector, look at him.’ If it really is him. Hector can sense the unspoken words.

‘I’m looking,’ Hector says. ‘He’s all I can see right now, Alex. We don’t need an ambulance.’

And perhaps it’s Hector’s voice or the anguish on his face that sharpens Alex’s perception through the haze threatening to overtake him. His voice, when he finds it, comes out in a hiss of accusation. 

‘You want to do a transfer.’ A pregnant, guilty silence from Hector. Alex grits his teeth. ‘You think you can heal him.’

‘I know I can,’ Hector retorts. In truth, he knows nothing. Theoretically, he’s the perfect candidate for the magical transfusion he has in mind—the blood pact he and Damien had performed when they were children would significantly decrease the time it would take to accomplish the ritual, as well as the likelihood of Damien rejecting the magic completely. But he’s never attempted such a thing before. There’s a reason, he knows, such things are left to professionals. 

Eliav stops mid-pace and wanders back in Damien’s direction. Hector watches him stop over his friend, his fingertips stopping an inch away from the blonde’s chest. Eliav pulls away. He asks, ‘Do you remember what his magic was like, Hector?’

‘Of course.’

‘He’ll take all of yours and leave you with nothing.’

‘He won’t.’

‘You don’t know that.’

Hector doesn’t reply—he can’t. He only bows his head. From somewhere behind him, Alex laughs, sharp and disbelieving. ‘And yet you still want to go ahead with it.’ 

‘The transfer is an invasive process,’ Hector argues, lifting his chin to glare at Alex who only shakes his head. ‘Damien’s body will try its damn best to get rid of any foreign magic in his system.’ 

‘And he knows yours?’ Alex’s voice is climbing, just shy of a shout. ‘It’s been five years, Hector.’

The words are a blow. As soon as they’re out of his mouth, Alex sees the hurt on Hector’s face. Alex almost apologises but he catches the surprised look from Eliav and Alex fears to speak, lest he makes things worse. He knows what they’re both thinking—Alex, of all people, should know that five years does very little to dull the pain.

‘Let me do the transfer,’ Hector repeats. 

How painful it is to hear those words, spoken so flatly. Like trust betrayed. 

Alex slides his gaze towards Eliav. Eliav, whose face is telling him to say he’s sorry. They don’t exchange words, but something tangibly transpires between them. A subtle change in the static suspended between the three of them. Four now, Alex amends. 

When Alex still doesn’t speak, Eliav frowns. Alex sighs.

‘Okay,’ he says, and Hector breathes. He knows that that single word is better than an apology. For now, at least. ‘Eliav and I will set up the ritual. You save your magic for the transfer.’ 

‘I know.’

‘When Damien takes enough, I’ll cut the tie.’ Alex pushes the sleeves of his sweatshirt up to his elbows. As he approaches the sofa, he adds, ‘You just make sure you come back.’

‘I know,’ Hector says again, softer.

‘Safe.’

‘I know, Alex. I know.’ 

'Then let's get started.'