I woke up to angry bees inside my pockets. 

Consciousness came slowly, something was off but the heavy sense of calm-safe-protected-warm was clouding my head. I blinked slowly at Drake’s asleep face, patting down my pocket to kill the bees. Except they weren’t bees but my phone: A message. 

I dragged it up and pressed my nose against the screen. Muttering unsavory things under my breath as I opened the app and read the name of the contact; Jin. 

I was immediately suspicious, the brothers didn’t contact me without a reason. And rarely on their own accord. I pressed the link with a vague sense of alarm; it was a video. 

My heart dropped as the pet shop came into focus. It was up in flames. There were people screaming out of camera, the image was shaky, black ashes filling the air as the person behind the camera tried to convey the damage: shards of the windows shined against the pavement, half the roof was gone. 

I could almost smell the burned flesh of our animals.

A bomb, I realized with horror. 

Someone had exploded our shop. 

Tim. 

‘No, no, no. Please, please. No. Not him. Please.’ I begged the Ishmal, praying for the first time in more than a decade. ‘Anything but that. Please.’ 

“Touma? What— Hey!” 

I’m out of the room before Drake finishes speaking. 

My feet refuse to cooperate and I crash against a wall, the physical pain barely registering. My throat hurts from how loud I am screaming but my ears don’t actually get to hear the noise as the high pressure of my blood covers it with ease. The only thing I can hear is my heart beating way too fast to be healthy. 

Before I know it, I reach the kitchen. 

Stupidly trying to pretend that Tim hasn’t leave the house yet. That he wouldn’t leave without me, that he didn’t leave to work and was killed without me able to do anything…

The moment I cross the threshold, I trip as something -someone- collides with me. 

I immediately pull the person closer, rolling so I’m the one to take the brunt. My nose picks it before my brain does; I could recognize anywhere:  Apples, wax, honey and the residual of our many cats. Tim. 

Something hot and scalding drenches my shirt, I ignore it as I drink on the most beautiful sight in the entire world: Tim, bags under his eyes, same eyes wide open and a worried frown appearing between his brows. Alive. 

“What’s wrong?” Tim is cradling my face between his hands. 

His eyes shine almost unnaturally, his face is so close but the tears make it blurry. I open and close my mouth, unable to say anything. Unable to do anything but sob. My hands grip his clothes, pulling him closer and closer, he makes a pained sound but I can’t care about it now as the only thing in my mind is: Tim is alive. 

He’s alive. 

Alive and unhurt. 

‘Thank you, thank you, thank you.’ I closed my eyes, inhaling to commit his scent to memory as the remains of fear dissipated. 

“What’s wrong with him?” 

“What happened?!”

“Is anyone injured?”

“Tim, is Touma ok?” 

“It doesn’t smell like blood tho…” 

“Are you guys alright?!” 

Around us the pack is panicking. Dragged out by my failure to control my emotions. None of them has left the house and I’m incredibly grateful for that; the last thing we need is to mourn more of our numbers. 

I take a deep breath. 

Closing the mental wall so hard, I wouldn’t be surprised if everyone could hear the metal hit the ground. As it is, the entire room shifts, uncomfortable. Tim draws a sharp inhalation, his soft touch turning brushing for a mere moment before he wrestles back his control and his lips brushed against my neck. 

Soft, caring. 

I open my eyes and find Drake hovering just a few feet away, I free one of my arms and extend the slightly battered phone to him. 

He takes it without a word. 

The video has no sound. There’s no need. The way Drake’s expression twists into something ugly is enough to alarm the rest. 

“What’s going on?” Tim asks, breaking the silence. His eyes are narrowed and he looks ready to tear someone apart. 

He’s beautiful. 

And someone had tried to kill him. Or me. Maybe both of us. It didn’t matter, I was more than prepared to fight by his side and hear the screams of the responsible for burning the store down. And I knew he would be too. 

“Your shop is gone.” Drake says. 

“What—” Tim’s voice breaks. “What do you mean?” 

…

We’re sitting on the couches, every face grim and tired. 

It’s been a long time since we have faced war; Lorcan had tainted our teen years with his madness. His name still ushered with hate and fright even twelve years later. And yet, even then we had never faced something like this. 

War as a gang made of children was completely different to a war with someone who dared to target us like this; open and brutal. 

“Micella is dead.” Tim said, closing his eyes. 

Micella was one of our workers, a young girl. Barely out of her teens. A casualty that shouldn’t have happened. And yet… and yet, I couldn’t mourn the fact that she had died.

‘Better her than Tim.’  The thought came unbidden as I adjusted my grip on Tim’s hand, anyone would be better than Tim. 

“The police says that the bomb was ringed to explode the moment the doors opened. We suspected the bastard behind this was hoping it would be one of you.” Paul sighs, rubbing his temples. “Do any of us have any idea who might have done this?” 

Tim and I shake our heads in unison. 

We don’t have enemies, or at least not at this scale. There may be a lady that has a flower-shop in front of us  that may wish we were gone and delights herself on sneering everytime we saw each other but she wouldn’t set a bomb on our local. 

“Do you trust the people who sent you the message?” Raph asked. 

I can’t help the grimace that takes over. 

“Trust is a strong word but… they had never led me wrong before.” I say, uncomfortable. “They’re the ones that help find most leads on Leo.” 

“I see.” Drake arches a judgmental eyebrow. “Jin is not their real name, I assume.”

“No.” 

Luke snorted. 

“Not gonna share?” His twin asked. 

“I would prefer not to.” I answered sincerely. 

Tim sighed long-suffering. 

“Enough.” Raph said. “What else do we know about the attack, Paul?”

“Nothing more. It’s too soon.” 

“The names are unimportant.” Drake argued. “What I want to know is why did they send you the video. It's supposed to be a treat of some kind?” 

“I doubt it.” Rhap said. 

I agreed. 

“It’s to ask for confirmation of me being alive.” I explained, a flick of warmth finding its place inside my heart at the thought of the brothers caring enough to ask. 

“So you’re that familiar, huh?” Christopher arched an eyebrow. 

I scowled at him. “None of your business.” 

“Children.” Raphael warned again. 

‘Could you ask them for help?’ Daisy signed. Her words echoed by Anne as none of us was looking at her and would have not seen the gestures. 

I bit my lips, nodding once. 

“Then, do that.” Drake decided. “Is the best plan we have right now. And it’s better than wait until the police has a better answer than ‘We don’t know.’” 

“Useless.” A few voices muttered, agreeing with the sentiment. 

I nodded again. 

“While Touma does that, none of us leaves the house until we’re sure the danger is gone.” Drake eyes the room with a determined face. “Find ways to not lose your job but if you can’t, don’t worry, we have enough money to survive a few months.” 

Ian groans, “My boss is gonna kill me.” 

“Suck it, lover boy.” Alex sticks his tongue out. 

“At least the house is big…” 

“That won’t help. I bet you five hundred that someone will be stabbed before the first week ends.” 

“Ten.”

“I can’t believe you guys! This is serious.”

“The bet is serious too.” 

“Absolutely. You don’t know because you joined after we matured but the Captains have always been…”

“Childish?” 

“Explosive?”

“Petty?” 

“Hey!” The twins chorused, offended. 

Paul rolled his eyes, same as Raphael. 

Drake huffed, crossing his arms. 

I tentatively raised my arm, attracting everyone's attention as I did. 

“Yes, Touma?” Raphael asked, voice deceivingly mild. 

I winced and tried to hide behind Tim, unsuccessfully as Tim shifted so he could look at me with narrowed eyes. 

“Uh...if you want me to get some answers I need to leave the house.” I gulped nervously. 

“Can’t you do it by message?” 

I sent Luke a look.

“Business cannot be made if not face to face.” Drake groaned. 

“Fuck.” Paul face-palmed. “I had forgotten about that.”  

Christopher grimaced, “Right. Etiquette.” 

Tim closed his eyes, pained. 

“You’re not going alone.” Raphael says firmly. 

“You’re not coming with me.” I shot back equally firm. 

Tim taps my shoulder, breaking the battle of wills.

“Will you be in danger?” 

“No.” I answer honestly. 

“Would we be in danger?” 

This one is more difficult but… 

“The usual amount when meeting with the top of another gang?” Meaning, not really but there’s the possibility of someone getting beat to a pulp. Normal stuff, in my opinion. But again I had never fully transitioned from normal to boring so, what did I know? 

“Why can’t we go with you then?” Raph insisted. 

“Because I have no wish to babysit.” 

“Babysit?!” 

“You fucker—” 

“I will show you who's babysitting who!”

“Son of a bitch!” 

“Say it again, say it again. I dare you!” 

“Did you have to antagonize everyone all the time?” Drake sighed, pulling Paul back from where he had tried to lunge at me. 

I shrugged. 

Tim face-palmed at my side. 

“No but really, why do you want to go alone? It’s weird. And dangerous, considering someone exploded the pet shop.” Ian asked, refraining Raphael from punching my lights out. 

“I met the brothers in juvie...the second time. And we stayed together for two years.” And it was always awkward to admit you slept around in front of your actual couple, so I rushed the info out as if that would stop Tim from grit his teeth so hard I worried he would break them. “There were talks about us formalizing as they broke out of juvie and invitations to join their pack every time I have seen them since then. So you see, I don’t want to get in the middle of the posturing if I arrive with any of Stray’s Captains at my back.” 

“...that’s a good point.” Luke admitted. 

Immediately after, the offence from my words quickly transformed into indignation. 

“How dare they!” 

“I want the name of those fuckers!”

“Yeah, let’s go and break their faces.” 

“No, we can’t break their faces, they’re gonna help to find the one who did this.”

“You’re right. Let’s catch this motherfucker first and then we beat them up for pack-stealing!” 

“There’s no pack-stealing!” I claimed, a little alarmed. 

“Well, duh. You’re too loyal for that.” Tim rolls his eyes. “But I do think we should meet them. Even if it is after this. Just so we all are on the same page.” 

I made a mortified sound as his teeth nicked my neck, right over the deep bite that marked me as his. Embarrassingly enough, both of us were a little on the exhibitionistic side so no-one really was seeing something they hadn't seen before and most responses were already rehearsed. 

The twins made sounds of disgust; Paul and Raphael rolled their eyes, both turning their heads against their partners chests. Drake actually growled and decided he needed to fight fire with fire and kissed Nick. Anne whistled and the rest groaned and covered their eyes. 

The only one that reacted differently was Daisy. 

While before our antics had been met with silent laughter and gentle teasing, this time the smile was sad and her eyes teared up a little. 

Tim stiffened but didn’t say anything; neither did I. Or anyone else if they noticed. 

I guess we all wanted to take as much normality as we could now everything was falling into pieces. 

Creation is hard, cheer me up by comenting! Also, don't forget to cheeck my tiktok @lonelywritingjourney as I post a lot of things about this verse in there; things like how the character's look, info about them, skits, and side-stories that will make it to omakes after the main story is finished.