“Have you decided on a new place for the shop?” 

“Not yet.” Tim sighed tiredly, he knew that Drake had good intentions but the wound was too fresh.

Tim had never quite gotten down the briskly way the others had to move on things; almost as if nothing held importance and was flicky at best. Jason had done that too. Except Tim knew how deep Jason cared, how difficult it was for him to let certain topics drop. How once he claimed you as his, you would always be his. 

Touma was like that, too. 

Loyal to the last drop of blood. 

“I know Touma has been looking up some buildings but we haven’t had the chance to check them personally.” Tim continued, shaking the grim thoughts out of his mind. “The truth is that I’m jittery after the bomb. It was just luck that none of us were there.” 

Mycella’s death was horrible, it filled him with guilt to think about the girl, especially because Tim was glad that it had been her and not Touma. It could have been Touma way too easily. The argument the night before only made it even more plausible.

The few times they argued, it always ended badly. Thus, it wasn’t unusual for Touma to put distance between the two of them for safety reasons. 

Going to work without him was not unheard. In fact, Tim had assumed that was what had happened until Touma barreled into him that morning. 

“I understand.” Drake says, eyes soft and expression full of understanding. “But letting the fear control you will hinder you, both of you. You need to face it and move on. Otherwise you’ll see your life pass. I don’t want that for you, Tim.” 

Drake was right, of course. He knew that. But. It was difficult. Every time Tim thought about looking for a new place and for the steps to bring a new shop to life, he felt like he couldn’t breathe. It did more than hurt. It burned. And Tim hated it. 

(The shop was gone— Jason’s dream was gone. And Tim hadn’t been able to protect it.) 

“I will try.” Tim offered. 

“Do or do not. There is no try.” Drake returned gently. 

“Nerd.” Tim snorted even as a knot formed in his stomach; knot that was totally unrelated to the incredible amounts of alcohol he had consumed last night but he was going to blame it on nevertheless. 

The phrase stung, hitting too close to home. It tasted like guilt. And Tim knew Drake had no way to know he had stopped drinking almost a year ago, he and Touma never told anyone. The secrecy a safety-blanket Tim had put for himself and Touma had not even dared to suspect because he trusted Tim to keep his word. 

Tim had every intention to keep his word; he didn’t. 

Everything was too much and he wanted to forget for a little while, numb the pain. It worked. And Tim hates himself a little for allowing himself to be this weak. 

But before he can wallow in his misery there’s a clear ring, followed by Drake’s own notification. They blink at each other, taken back. With a healthy dose of suspicion, Tim takes his phone out and checks his messages. 

The first genuine smile since Peter’s death blossoms on his lips at the sight of the cute picture. 

“They’re so cute.” Drake says, muffling a laugh. 

Tim cannot do anything but agree. 

…

“Your hand…” 

“It’s only a graze.” I force a smile, trying to soften his evident regret. “I was too clumsy with the bottles and too careless while picking them up. Don’t worry. Daisy treated me. And it doesn’t hurt much.” 

Tim doesn’t stop looking stricken. 

“I’m… I’m sorry, Touma. For breaking my promise.” 

“I’m not mad.” At least not anymore. “Just— Aa. I don’t want to lose you, Tim. You’re everything to me and it pains me to see you like that. I… I don’t want to return home one day and find you on the floor, unresponsive and half-dead. Not again. Please, Tim, please don’t make me bury you.” 

Me not being mad didn’t mean I would not use everything I had at my disposal to ensure Tim wouldn’t return to this bad coping-mechanism. 

The injury to myself had been an accident, one that had more to my poor mental health than any other thing but it was useful. So I made sure to use that hand to cup Tim’s face. Aquamarine eyes closed and he leaned into the touch with a shaky sigh, hands flying to gently touch the bandages. 

‘Jason’s ghost  was not that bad in the end.’ I thought with morbid humor. ‘It would be like him, too. Coming to haunt me for not taking good care of his omega. That fucking bastard.’ 

…

This time, I was expecting him. 

I stood on the threshold, watching Jason like an eagle as he leaned over the bed. He looked just as he had when he died: Long hair loose, red jacket with a snarling cobra in the back, black undershirt and red-feather earring proudly displayed. 

Brown eyes fixated on Tim’s sleeping face as he reaches to put a lock of blond hair behind Tim’s ear; I feel a moment of regret as I am reminded that by taking Jason away from Leo, I also took him away from Tim. 

We didn’t mate during those weeks but if we had won, we would have ended up together. 

“Do you love me?” 

“Like a never ending fire.” 

Sometimes I wondered how that would have gone now that I could see Tim as a person and not an interloper, now that I loved him as much as I loved Jason. Could Jason forget about him and not blame me for all the pain I wanted to cause Tim? Would he have stopped me if I had shared my plans? Would he have hated me for killing his little sun? 

Would our love have soured in time? Or would it have burned for eternity? 

Not that it mattered now. 

Jason was dead; Tim was mine to love and care for. 

‘What-ifs’ were inconsequential. 

“Are you going to act like a chicken again?” 

I arch an eyebrow at the open mockery, lips twisting slightly upwards. “You surprised me last night, that was all.” 

“Mmm. Is that so?” 

“Yeah, you almost caused me to have a heart-attack. You’re also the reason why my poor hand is injured.” I wave at him. “See? Aren’t you feeling even a little guilty? You should take responsibility.” 

“Nah. You’re the one who was dumb enough to grab a broken bottle with your bare hands. Why should I feel guilty? If you’re an idiot, that’s on you.”

“Ouch.” 

“Come with me.” Jason’s smile is wide and sharp. “I have things to say to you.” 

I shrug at the order with a lazy attitude, walking towards the bed and extending my arm, rubbing the inner of my wrist against Tim’s gland, scenting him. It’s a little petty but I cannot really stop myself. 

I glance at Jason, curious about his reaction. 

“You’re such a little shit.” Jason looked incredibly smug. The pure affection in his voice was hard to miss as well. 

Huh. 

“That’s how you love me.” 

“Damn right I do.” 

Alright, that answer put the percentage of Jason being more than a hallucination up to 67%. And prompted stupid butterflies on my stomach. Good to know that some things didn’t change. 

“To the woods? Are you gonna murder me?” I ask deliberately obnoxious as we leave the house; no one else seemed to be able to see him. I waved and smiled reassuringly at the curious looks I gathered from the pack members that were still up. 

The air was cold and I sneezed. 

“Like a kitten.” Jason snorted, ignoring the glare I sent at him. “And no. Serial-killer it’s so not my chosen vibe, you know? Also, killing you in the woods? That’s so cliché.” 

“Uninspired.” I agree with a fond smile. 

“Right? If I was going to murder you it would be a lot more romantic. Classy.” 

My hands turned into fists as Tim’s furious eyes flashed through my mind; a romantic death was nothing but a cruel game. Because what about the one who died later? What about the one that survived? There was nothing nice about a ‘romantic’ death. 

“Classy?” I fake-gasp. “Jeez, Jay. What I’m hearing is that you would make my death boring and I’m not sure you can keep your best-friend ID after this. I’m sad. You’re breaking my heart.” 

Jason laughed, loud, bright. So full of life it felt like a stab to my heart. ‘Ishmal, my memories didn’t do him justice at all.’

“What about erotic asphyxiation, then?” 

“Mmm, kinky.” I smirked, waggling my eyebrows. “I love it.” 

“Do I get to keep my spot as your best friend?” 

“Always.” And yes, maybe my answer was too fast, too strong. But that’s something I didn’t want him to doubt even if we were fooling around. The way Jason’s eyes immediately softened told me I sound exactly as desperate as I felt, which was great, you know ‘cause at least I can do emotional vulnerability now. Fuck. “Not a word. Just— Ignore that and move on to whatever was the reason you dragged me into the woods.” 

Jason shifted, right hand twitching, almost as if he wanted to reach towards me but thought better of it and canceled the action before it was too obvious and the percentage rose by a 10%; if he was a cruel illusion created by my brain, it certainly wouldn’t be so considerate. 

Of this, I was certain. 

“Alright. No chick moments, we have bigger issues to worry about.” 

“I do not like the sound of that.” I blurt quite honestly, taking in his pained grimace with a healthy dose of worry. 

“It’s not that bad?”

“You’re not being convincing.” 

We had a very long, uncomfortable staring match before Jason coughed and proceeded to destroy my understanding of the world as I knew it. 

“Let’s start with the good news! Hell is real, it is not as bad as people make it look like. Lau is actually pretty chill. And he has a soft spot for Miwa’s children. So great afterlife, actually. Bit difficult to get out but 10/10, I would recommend.”