Nash expects Aster to take a disinterested backseat as they step into the clinic, but instead he marches up to the front desk and slams the dagger down. "I've got a werewolf who's been cut with a sacrificial demonic dagger."

The receptionist opens her mouth, but Aster silences her with a raised hand. "I know. You're healers. This isn't your thing. I just need supplies and a room to work in. I know it's probably against protocol, but sometimes you’ve got to bend the rules, right? You might not be able to help him yourselves, but I’m sure you understand how bad this is.”

The receptionist hesitates, her eyes flicking between Aster and the dagger. Finally, she stands and beckons them to follow. "What supplies do you need?"

Aster’s been trying to sound confident, but Nash catches the uncertainty in his eyes. “I’m still deciding on an approach. Just get me a fully stocked room, and I'll let you know if I need anything else."

The receptionist eyes Aster warily, but the grim look she gives the dagger keeps her from questioning him.

"So how bad is this, exactly?" Nash murmurs as they follow her.

Aster shakes his head, lips pressed in a thin line. "I'll tell you after I fix it."

Nash wants to press for answers, but Aster’s face is pinched and focussed as the receptionist waves them into a room. Aster goes straight to a shelf stacked with all kinds of bottles and jars and starts rifling through them.

Nash turns to the receptionist, but she only offers a tight smile before quickly leaving.

The room is unlike any Nash has seen at the clinic before. A worn wooden table with matching chairs sits in the centre, surrounded by shelves and heavy bookcases crammed with supplies. It's clearly a workspace for healers to mix potions and store ingredients.

Not sure what else to do, Nash lowers himself into one of the chairs. His phone buzzes, and relief washes over him at the sight of Niko's name. Before he can even say hello, Niko's voice cuts through:

"What the fuck, Nash?"

Nash winces. He’s not sure he’s ever heard Niko swear before. “That bad, huh?”

“It’s—yes, Nash, it’s that bad. I’m not there. I don’t know…”

“I’m at the clinic and I have Aster with me,” Nash says. “He’s, uh. Remember the guy who exploded his hand with that cursed ring?”

“Distinctly,” Niko says. “That… could be good. He seemed competent, in an erratic sort of way.”

"Is that Niko?" Aster asks, approaching the table. He sets down the dagger and a jar of what looks like salt.

"Yeah. Do you want to...?" Nash offers, holding out the phone.

“Put him on speakerphone,” Aster says, turning back to the shelves.

“I’m putting you on speakerphone,” Nash relays before doing just that.

“Niko, hi,” Aster greets with surprising warmth, and Nash feels a flash of very inappropriately timed jealousy. He can’t imagine Aster talking to him like that. “Nash said he sent you some pictures of the dagger, so I assume you understand the situation.”

“Well enough,” Niko says. “Any chance of suppressing it?”

Aster returns to the table with a glass bottle full of clear liquid and an empty bowl. "On an arm or leg? Sure. But it arcs across his chest. Right over his heart." He barely glances at Nash as he orders, "Shirt and jacket off."

“Fuck,” Niko breathes. "So amputation is out too."

Nash's eyes widen as he peels off his shirt, wincing as the fabric sticks to the wound. "Wait, it's that bad?"

“I was trying to keep him calm,” Aster grumbles.

“He’ll keep his cool,” Niko promises. “What does it look like?”

Nash glances down at his bare chest and immediately regrets it. The cut gapes raw and open, with tendrils of inky black spreading outward beneath his skin.

Aster's eyes trace the wound as he pours salt into the bowl. "It's... progressing. I'm going to salt it to buy time. Niko, can you look up a demon for me?"

“Yes,” Niko replies. Nash hears rustling on the other end of the line. "What's the name?"

As Aster adds liquid from the bottle to the salt, a pungent herbal scent fills the air. “Zar’gaath. I’m not exactly an expert on demonic texts, but I think we all understand the concept of a sacrificial dagger and how this works.”

"I don't," Nash mumbles, though he's not sure if he's even part of this conversation anymore.

The sound of pages turning crackles through the phone. "I understand the concept," Niko says, "but I don’t know what we’re going to do about it. A substitution might be possible, but what do you substitute for a person? Nothing has higher value unless we’re willing to sacrifice a different person, which is absolutely not an option."

Aster mixes the contents of his bowl with his hands, then scoops up a glob and presses it into Nash's wound. Nash hisses at the sting, but Aster's other hand rests lightly on his uninjured shoulder, and that’s nice.

“The man who cut him was a stranger,” Aster says. “The value of a sacrifice reflects the degree to which it is, in fact, a sacrifice. A stranger is nothing.”

“A person is still a person,” Niko argues, still flipping through pages. “Maybe you could substitute a beloved pet, but a goat sacrifice isn’t going to cut it. Ah, here we go.” He pauses, presumably reading. “Zar’gaath. Big into sacrifice, with an emphasis on emotional value. Which really only further reinforces the dilemma. The original sacrifice was relatively low-value, but a random animal is worth even less. And, realistically speaking, there’s no way to get your hands on one quickly enough regardless.”

Aster continues smearing the salt along the line of the cut, seemingly indifferent to Nash’s face scrunching in pain. “Are living sacrifices our only option?”

“Uhhh…” Niko draws out. “No, actually. Anything can be sacrificed. But again—people have inherent value. Life has inherent value.”

Aster squeezes Nash's shoulder, catching his eye. "Do you have anything with you or in your car that you truly value?"

"I like my jacket?" Nash offers weakly.

“That’s not enough,” Niko says without hesitation. “That’s the problem with werewolves. They don’t really do stuff. Aster, I hate to ask this, but do you…?”

“Maybe,” Aster says. “I’m not sentimental, but that’s not what it says, is it? It says emotional value. There are many emotions.”

"The text has been translated at least twice, so I wouldn't trust the exact wording," Niko cautions. "But I see your point."

“I have plenty of things I value with me. I’m just trying to figure out what might work.”

"I'm no expert on demonic sacrifices," Niko says, "but the rule of thumb I was taught for sacrifices in general is that the right answer is always what you least want to give up."

Aster sucks in a sharp breath. "Fuck. Okay."

Without hesitation, Aster's salt-caked fingers reach for his ear, removing a ruby stud. He sets it on the table with a soft clink.

"Aster?" Nash asks, unnerved by the look of grim determination in Aster's eyes.

"If this fucking demon wants emotion," Aster growls, pressing one hand over Nash's wound and gripping the bare dagger with the other, "it can have it."

Aster's eyes flutter shut as he murmurs a few words, then he positions the dagger over the ruby earring. Nash expects the blade to glance off the stone, but when Aster presses down, it cracks and crumbles with a sickening crunch.

For a moment it seems like nothing happens, but then Nash’s breath rushes out of him and he curls in on himself as pain lances through his body.

For a while—Nash can’t say how long—there’s nothing but a punch of shock that leaves him at a distance from his body. As his mind slowly reassembles itself, he becomes aware of a hand gently rubbing his shoulder. He assumes it's Aster, but when he finally manages to crack open his eyes, he finds a healer on either side of him, murmuring words of concern.

"Huh?" Nash grunts as he jerks back to full alertness.

"Nash?" Niko's voice crackles from the phone.

"I'm good," Nash says automatically. It's not until he looks down at himself, seeing the cut starting to scab over and no longer threaded with black tendrils, that he realises it's true. The healer with his hand on Nash's shoulder lifts a glowing palm towards the wound, but Nash waves him off. "Don't worry about it. Where's Aster?"

They hadn't exactly introduced themselves when they arrived, but the other healer seems to know who he means. "He's in the bathroom."

"He looked a little..." the first healer begins, but trails off without finishing.

"Okay." Nash takes a deep breath to centre himself. "It seems like it worked. Can I call you back in a bit, Niko? I need to go check on Aster."

"Text me in ten minutes to confirm you're still okay, then again in another thirty," Niko instructs. "If anything changes for the worse, call me immediately. I'll keep my phone on me for the rest of the night.”

"Thanks, Niko," Nash says before ending the call.

Sometimes Nash isn’t quite sure whether he should call Niko his friend even though they do live together since they don’t have much of a relationship outside of work. But in moments like these, he realises that yeah, Niko is definitely a good friend.

Nash pulls his torn, bloody shirt back on as he makes his way down the hall, well aware that many find his size to be threatening. He approaches the locked single-occupancy bathroom and knocks gently. "Aster?"

There's no response from inside, but Nash's hearing isn't keen enough in his human form to pick up any subtle sounds. He desperately wants to check on Aster, to make sure he's okay, but he knows that busting down the door would be a surefire way to destroy any trust between them.

Before he can decide what to do, Nash is swept up in a whirlwind of paperwork and conversations as the clinic staff try to piece together what happened and, more importantly, how to bill him for it. When he gets a moment, he shoots Niko a quick text to let him know that he’s fine. In the end, the clinic waives the charges since the supplies Aster used were practically worthless.

When Nash returns to the bathroom and still gets no response, one of the healers produces a key. The room is empty, but there’s an open window that leads outside. It doesn't take a detective to figure out what happened. An anxious knot settles in Nash’s gut. Is something wrong, or does Aster just not want to deal with the emotional fallout of this situation?

It’s starting to really sink in that Aster just saved his life. That, despite his apparent indifference up until they reached the clinic, he was on a laser-focused path to doing so from the second Nash told him he got cut by that dagger. Maybe he ran away because he’s embarrassed that Nash finally has proof that he cares.

As Nash slides into his car, Aster's scent envelops him. He takes a moment to just breathe it in. He's always found it creepy when other werewolves at the club sniff girls and tell them how good they smell, and it doesn’t help that he also hears the shit they talk when the girls aren’t around. The whole thing always seemed pretty gross. But now, with someone he genuinely likes...

Well, it’s still weird as fuck, but Nash can't help wishing he could bury his nose in the most intimate parts of Aster's body and fill his lungs with his scent.

A shaky exhale from the backseat makes Nash whip around. He spots a figure bundled in the car blanket, curled up on the seat. He instantly knows it's Aster. He should have realised from the moment he got in the car that what he smells is more than just the lingering traces of Aster’s scent.

“Aster?” Nash tries. “You okay?”

He’s not surprised when he gets no response. 

Nash drops his head with a long sigh. "Okay, how about this? Just give me a simple yes or no. Is this some kind of emergency where I need to be doing something to help you? Are you in danger?"

After a few beats of silence, Aster finally offers a quiet, muffled, "No."

"Okay," Nash says, tension easing from his shoulders.

Aster’s probably just upset about the earring, then, which is bad but not as bad as him being infected with a demon curse. Probably. He still doesn't understand why the earring was so important, especially since Aster emphasised its value was emotional but not sentimental. Nash can't quite wrap his head around what that means.

Nash drums his fingers on the steering wheel. "Where should I take you? I can bring you back to the boarding house if you want, but I don't like the idea of leaving you alone there when you're vulnerable. Do you want to come back to my place?"

Aster, predictably, doesn't respond. Nash sends another quick text to Niko confirming he's still fine. When he's done, Aster still hasn't said a word.

"Alright," Nash says, pocketing his phone. "If you're not going to tell me no, I guess we'll go with what I think we should do?"

Aster lets out a bitter huff. “Right…”

Nash winces, realising he's misstepped. He bites the inside of his cheek in frustration. "I'll do whatever you want, Aster, but I can't read your mind. Give me one last yes or no, and then I'll leave you alone. Do you want to come back to my place?"

After another beat of silence, Aster finally answers. "Okay."