Finch

It was a long drive home, quiet the whole way except for Malyn hitting redial, and redial, and redial. Each time the call rang out, he'd stare at the screen a second longer before his thumb found the button again. Tyla sat beside him with a hand on his shoulder and kept it there the whole way. Finch watched them in the rearview when he could spare the glance, and kept his foot heavier on the accelerator than he should have.

They pulled into the drive and Malyn was out before the engine cut. Finch swore and caught him by the arm three strides from the front step.

"Wait."

"Let go—"

"Wait."

There was a bloody handprint on the front door.

Malyn went still under his hand.

Tyla had the sense to approach slower, but once the door was open Finch took his wrist too, just to make sure he didn't do anything stupid.

Adin was crouched in the middle of the kitchen floor, head bowed, antlers crusted dark with blood. His clothes hung in ribbons. The scratches underneath looked superficial, but there were a lot of them. 

Malyn tried to move. Finch tightened his grip.

"Adin," he said, not moving from the threshold.

The silence went on long enough that Finch almost said it again. Then Adin lifted his head.

“Is Shadow still here?”

Adin stared at them. Stared through them, really, eyes not quite focused. Finch waited him out. Eventually, Adin nodded.

“Are you or he seriously injured?”

Adin raised a hand and touched the gash on his forehead, seeming more curious about it than worried. He shook his head.

"Shadow," Finch said, to the room at large. "Can you make your location known without coming out?"

A kitchen cabinet cracked open. Shadow peered through the gap.

"Okay." Finch pressed Malyn and Tyla's hands together and closed their fingers around each other, making them accountable for one another. "Don't move. I mean it."

“Finch, what’s going on?” Malyn asked. “What’s wrong with Adin?”

"He'll be fine. He just needs us to respect his space right now even though we're worried."

Malyn didn't look happy about it, but he nodded.

Finch took the long way around the perimeter of the room, keeping as much furniture between himself and Adin as the layout allowed. He half expected Shadow to have slipped off somewhere else in the thirty seconds it had taken to cross the kitchen, but he was still there, folded up small in the dark. Finch reached in, took his hand and guided him out, then walked him back the long way around to the others.

He ushered all three of them over to the couch. It was the furthest point in the house they could get from Adin while still keeping eyes on him. Finch kept hold of Shadow's hand as they sat, then took Malyn's with the other. Malyn was still clutching Tyla's.

“So,” Finch said to Shadow. “Katrina, right?”

Shadow nodded.

Finch let out a breath through his nose. "Figures."

“I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault.”

“I really didn’t think she would find me here.”

"If I'd known she would, the only thing I might've done different was keep a closer watch on you." Finch rubbed his thumb absently along the back of Shadow's hand. "Part of our code is not letting ourselves get intimidated out of doing the right thing. That's where most power comes from, really. Not being stronger than the whole world. Just strong enough that most people do what you say without you having to lift a damn finger."

“Why can’t we go near Adin?” Tyla asked.

"Same reason a man who just chased off a vampire is working reception instead of coming out on jobs with us." Finch didn't take his eyes off Adin. "Takes him a minute to cool off from a fight. That's all."

“I thought he was our receptionist because he’s the only one who understands taxes,” Malyn murmured.

"Shadow. I need you to not disappear on us. We're all camping out in my room tonight. Daylight should be safer, but I still want to know where you are at all times. I'll tape garbage bags over my window so it's dark enough for you to sleep."

Shadow nodded. “Thank you.”

"Tomorrow night, Luther should call to check in. We can figure out next steps from there."

Across the room, Adin began to move. Slow at first—checking himself over, patting down his own arms and ribs like he was making sure they were still where he'd left them—and then pushing himself up off the floor with an aching care that matched his true years. Finch gave the others a look as he stood. Stay.

Adin had made it to the kitchen sink and was running water over his hands, watching it swirl pink down the drain. Finch approached but stopped short of arm's reach.

“Might need a shower for this one.”

"Mm." Adin turned to him, a hand pressed against his forehead. "I'm having a hard time thinking."

“Looks like you hit your head.”

Adin shook his head. He clearly had hit it, but Finch got the point. That wasn’t what had scrambled his brain.

"Well, we don't need you to think right now. Take your time." Finch kept his voice easy. "Looks like you scared her off. We're just going to stay close until we can get hold of Luther and sort this out."

Behind him, he heard the soft pad of a foot. Finch turned. Malyn was hovering on the line where the carpet gave way to kitchen tile, not crossing it, not going back. His shoulders were drawn up tight, his hands loose at his sides, and his eyes were wet.

“It’s okay,” Adin said.

Malyn shook his head. His mouth opened, and nothing came out of it.

“I’m sorry,” Adin told him, though he sounded like he wasn’t quite sure what he was apologising for.

Malyn took a few steps into the kitchen, hesitated, then sank down onto the tile. He pulled his knees up loosely in front of him. "We couldn't get hold of you on the way back. I thought she'd killed you."

"I was more trouble than she was willing to deal with. Like a tiny dog snapping at a bear. I'm sure she could have killed me, but I managed to put her off the idea."

"I didn't know you could fight at all."

"I don't like to. I lose control. I just want to be a receptionist, a secretary, an assistant." He offered Malyn a small smile. "Your dad."

Malyn pressed his lips together and nodded, hard, his eyes going glassy again.

“I’m going to take a shower and change, and then I’m going to come out and give you a hug. Okay?”

Malyn nodded again.

When Finch headed back into the living room, he was surprised, and relieved, to find Shadow still obediently sitting on the couch next to Tyla. Finch sat down on Shadow's other side, and Tyla excused himself to go check on Malyn.

“I wanted to help him,” Shadow said. “Adin. I heard them fighting.”

“Don’t feel bad about that. I bet Adin told you to hide, didn’t he?”

Shadow nodded. “And not to come out until you came to get me.”

"And you listened. That's why everything is okay right now. Sure, we're all a bit spooked, and Adin's a bit scratched up, but we all know it could’ve been much worse."

Shadow nodded, then lay down on his side and pressed a cushion over his face.

“You can go and wait in my room if you want. Take your stuff in there, too. I’ll have the others get together whatever they need for the night and we’ll all get set up in there.”

Shadow pushed himself up and went to follow Finch's instructions. Hopefully. Finch knew that the second he turned his back, Shadow could be anywhere. He really did seem like he intended to put a pause on the disappearing act, though, so Finch was trying not to worry about it.

Malyn was already waiting outside the bathroom door for that hug he'd been promised. Tyla lurked awkwardly a few steps back, pretending to be very interested in one of the kitchen chairs that had been broken in the fight.

“Apparently Luther used to be a carpenter,” Finch told him. “Maybe he can fix it.”

Tyla held up one of the legs, snapped clean in half. "Hm…"

“Or maybe not.”

“I’m surprised you would suggest letting him into our house,” Tyla said. “Even jokingly.”

"Who said anything about letting him in? I can toss the bits of wood outside for him to carpent."

Tyla smiled, but it wavered when he glanced past Finch and caught sight of Malyn and Adin in the hallway, Adin's hand on Malyn's shoulder. Tyla pulled his attention back with visible effort. "Do you think Luther is as bad as we thought? He seems to care about protecting Shadow."

"I honestly don't know. Not sure it matters, either. It's not like he can just go back to business as usual with another vampire hunting him. Once he moves Shadow somewhere safer, we might never see him again."

“Is that a good thing?”

"Probably not," Finch admitted. "He's like that spider that lives on your window frame that Mal always tells Adin to be careful of when he's cleaning. He keeps the real pests under control."

Malyn and Adin finished up their bonding and moved on to gathering what they wanted with them for the night. Malyn grabbed pillows and blankets and lobbed them at Tyla, then set about digging out card and board games. Adin's only concern was his laptop, phone, notepads—anything that would let him keep working.

Finch stayed in the kitchen, watching, until everyone was ready. Then he grabbed a box of garbage bags and a roll of tape and led the way into his bedroom.

Shadow was nowhere in sight.

Finch's gut dropped—and then Shadow's head poked out from under the bed.

Finch let out a long breath. “I’ll tape the bags over the window now so that it’s done for when the sun comes up.”

Shadow crawled out and held out a hand. Finch passed him the tape.

“Don’t worry about damaging the paint. Whatever the tape does, Adin’s antlers have done way worse.”

Adin gave a self-conscious smile. “They’re manageable for now, but they get far bigger and pointier than this.”

Malyn had already claimed a spot on Finch's bed. Tyla hovered at the edge of it, unsure whether he was supposed to follow, until Malyn beckoned and Finch caught the glance Tyla shot his way and gave him a nod of permission.

Finch kept one eye on them as he and Shadow worked on the window. Malyn looked happy again already, or close enough to it. He'd always been a man of emotional extremes, swinging hard in both directions, but his natural balance always seemed to snap him back toward positive almost as quickly as he'd fallen. Finch envied him, in a way. Malyn felt negative emotions with more depth and diversity than Finch ever had, but it seemed to help him process them—wring them out and hang them up to dry. Finch considered himself to be less sensitive of a person, but for him those emotions lingered.

He grabbed a pillow, and as Shadow crawled back under the bed, lay down on the floor. He wasn't worried Shadow would run off anymore. He just needed to be able to see him. To know for a fact he was still there.

He'd expected Shadow to turn his back, maybe curl up or hide himself, but instead he shuffled closer to where Finch was lying. Finch sat up, grabbed his other pillow, and passed it under.

“Thank you,” Shadow said, his voice quiet but not whispering, as though someone had simply turned the volume down.

Malyn managed to rope Adin into a card game. He wasn't normally one for that sort of thing, but he was one to go out of his way to make someone he cared about feel better when they were upset. Finch had never quite embraced the idea of Adin as an actual father figure the way Malyn did, but, if he were honest, Adin had come close to filling the role at times. Finch had been such a young child when they'd first met; it would have been hard for there not to be some of that dynamic between them.

Not so much anymore, though. Finch had barely wanted to be parented when he was a child; he sure didn't want to be now. Sure, Adin cooked for him and did his laundry, but those were just jobs Adin took on because they kept him grounded.

Without anyone actually discussing it, Finch ended up staying on the floor and Malyn and Tyla shared the bed. Finch wanted to be down low so that he could easily check on Shadow if he woke up in the night. As for Malyn and Tyla, well. Finch might've assumed they were already sleeping together if Malyn had a single subtle bone in his body. If they'd been fucking, the whole household would've known. But something was simmering there, he was sure of it. 

Tyla was harder to read. He was fresh out of a whole different culture, and the usual signals didn't quite translate. Still, Finch had watched the way he tipped toward Malyn whenever Malyn surprised a laugh out of him. Tyla had never leaned into Finch like that. Not once.

It wasn't the best night's sleep, but they got through it uneventfully. That was all Finch could ask for.