The shower was just enough to get the stench of death and vomit off of his body. His clothing had done a fantastic job of keeping him relatively clean, leaving him morbidly satisfied with the addition of the polymer under-layer from the previous iteration. In the end, it was mostly sweat… He wished guilt and shame could wash off, but that wasn't something he could ask for.
In truth, he figured that penance meant sitting with this new weight on his chest.

He didn't expect such instant relief from hearing Trisha's voice again, however. He kept his Channeler close, White Lux enhancing his senses so that even as he showered from below, he could clearly hear her. Not to spy, just… Comfort. He did his best to drown out the concepts. Drown out the voice of the man on the other end that he could also hear.
He didn't blame the guy for being nervous: He was too. Especially now, knowing that something like what he'd just done could be asked of him at any time. The needless slaughter.

Casey hoped then that she'd had a good night. She had to have… Anything else was just a time bomb. Still, he tried to hold off heading up until she was done, but the enchanted loofah was just too good at its job. So, out and dry, a set of clothes from his locker, and he was up the stairs. He opened the front door quietly, stepping in and starting to move down the hall.

“Gotta go, boyfriend's home, I'll send you that honey—"
Trisha


Casey heard Ezra's questioning voice on the other end before the line went dead. He didn't stop at the doorway to their den, rather turning and heading up the stairs to make way for the laundry hamper. Dirty, sweaty undergarments went in, and for a moment he sat frozen as he tried to get the look of abject sadness off his face. For her. Even though he felt a great deal of relief at her voice and the sight of his beloved Trisha, it was still gruelling. Painful to think about.

He only hoped she wouldn't ask.

It didn’t take long for Trisha to appear at the top of the stairs. The sweater of his that she was wearing practically swamped her, sleeves having unbundled so that her hands weren’t visible at all. It was obvious to her that whatever Casey had been doing either hadn’t gone well, or the job in the first place was shit. Temple business. She didn’t want to know - and she didn’t want to make him explain it. Especially not after all the things she’d already found out tonight… she didn’t want to think about it.

“Hey,” she said softly, hesitating at first even though her feet shuffled towards him. She wanted to hug him, but she didn’t want to risk him pushing her away. Would he? She didn’t know where his head was at. But the bees didn’t share any of her reservations, a couple of them flying from in her hair and onto his shoulder. One was the one that had ‘defended’ her against her phone, wiggling its little body and letting off pheromones that were as close to bragging as a bee could get.

Not that Casey would understand them.
“I take it you’re all done? I just got off the phone with my brother- the oldest one, Ezra.” She stood right in front of him now, pushing away her worries to loosely wrap her arms around his shoulders. The bees scurried out of the way and onto his neck.
“It wasn’t as bad as I expected- aside from him calling me stupid a couple of times. Tansy told him about us… but as soon as he found out there might be some profit involved cause of the honey he seemed to accept everything. Not that he can make me do anything, but it was one of the few proper conversations I think I’ve had with him. Kind of funny now that I’m stepping away from my family.” Trisha offered up a brief summary of the phone call openly - none of what they’d talked about, aside from maybe Ezra’s insistence Casey was honey potting her, were things she didn’t want to tell him. And she kind of hoped by talking about it they could just… not talk about the meeting she’d attended just before.

She'd be able to see Casey's hand clutching his glove. The Channeler he so desperately wanted to put away forever. Whether the association between that and his magical senses would be made, he didn't know. The bee on his shoulder was something bright, and he turned his head to watch it crawl about slightly.

”He… Uh… Shit…”
He was about to try and comfort her about the situation, but there'd be no chance of her not knowing then. For a moment he was frozen stiff, his head slowly but surely turning down to look at the glove. It called back to him. His fist tightened before he flung it off the overhang of the loft, down into the area by the front door.

”God fucking dammit… Shut it off, fucking shut it off…”
Casey brought his empty hands up to his face, clasping and pulling the skin in frustration. Within a moment, he'd slid closer to the top of the stairs and stretched his arm out to scoop Trisha by the hips. He dragged her closer, onto the bed where they could intertwine and become one.

”Is he nervous? About… Us?”
Us could've been them as a couple, but it wasn't. Us was the Temple. The cult thing. He knew the answer, but he wanted to hear it from her lips: To give her the chance to explain it herself, even though he expected her to avoid it.

Trisha rolled her eyes, though it wasn’t at Casey - it was at the question, and what her brother was actually worried about. She took a moment to answer as she cuddled in closer, suppressing the slight trembling in her limbs from his initial reaction. It hadn’t been at her, it was something else…
“Nervous for his reputation. He doesn’t actually care. He caught wind of the…” she trailed off, frowning. She didn’t really want to go into the details, about how Ezra had gone on and on about how he just wanted her for her name and money. Because there was that deep down anxiety that Casey didn’t actually love her - and she’d been wrong so many times before. But not this time. Definitely not this time.

“He knew about the cult stuff.” Thankfully for Casey, and not so much Trisha, there was still enough alcohol in her system for her to be a little more honest… or at least, a little less able to filter what was in her brain from coming out her mouth.
“He’s convinced I’m going to join and he’ll end up dealing with paparazzi questioning him about it during those stupid press conferences he holds. So yeah, I guess he’s nervous, but only cause he thinks I’m blind to it all and going to do something that’ll negatively affect him.”

”It isn't your fault our society is like that… Not everyone has magical foresight, or tolerance for things outside the norm. I empathize with his position.”
Maybe she wouldn't want to hear that. But Casey knew exactly what kind of risks came from doing business with the Temple.. So, how was he supposed to tell her that he didn’t think what he was asking for was a good idea without saying it?
”Little scandals can cost a lot of money… People go to Andrade’s restaurants at first because they just hear the press talking. Cult Chef this and Goat-Sacrificing Gourmand that. But then they taste the food, and they come back. The rich get a thrill from it. But, for him? What, he runs like… A conglomerate practically. Chairman of the board of whatever? People in his circles are always looking to bring one another down.”

He hugged her closer, partly because he could feel her tensing up but partly because he didn’t want her running from the moment. He needed her, and the distraction of a conversation that wasn’t about how work went. Trisha would be able to hear the disinterest in his voice turn to engagement.
”But, you also can’t tell him that we can cover him, can you? I’m sure he wouldn’t want that even if he did know. Or, maybe he would; I don’t really know him. Maybe magic would be everything he’s ever wished for.” he shrugged his shoulders, dislodging a bee from Trisha’s hair accidentally.

“He’d probably start looking for ways to profit from it,” Trisha snorted. The dislodged bee let out an annoyed buzz, but the consistent, low level comforting pheromones Trisha was giving out stopped it from taking any action beyond crawling back into her hair, nestling in deeper.
“I already know what scandals can do for his business- the ‘family’ business, whatever. Tansy’s caused plenty. It’s always been fine in the end.” Trisha herself had probably caused a few too, but thankfully smaller and more mundane than ‘being part of a cult.’

“I can’t tell him- and I won’t. He wouldn’t believe it… Especially not from me. But you can cover me, right? As long as nothing gets out about me then it’s fine. Ezra’s worries are solved, he doesn’t hear anything, it’s all fine.” It was a cut off, really, from the conversation going much further. She didn’t want to get into it - into the worries she now had, or how she really thought she needed some kind of contract for her business…

”Of course… Whatever you feel comfortable asking us to do, I’ll make sure it’s done. Press, Lawyers, Notaries… I want you to be confident that this isn’t just some crazy… Ploy. I know it probably sounds crazy even for me to say that, but-”
He cut himself off, letting his voice trail off as his head turned to look at her. He was doing his best to not sound like he expected her to react.

Trisha narrowed her eyes at him for a moment, lips pressed together. Why would he think she thought it was a ploy? Was he questioning her feelings- his feelings? No, no, it was just reassurance. She forced herself to push back down the irritation that was so ready to jump out. She just wanted to relax, and cuddle him, and feel fine for a while. It was fine.
“Just the Press. I have my own lawyer- as long as whoever is on the Temple side of the honey business is willing to sign contracts to do with it.” She tried to sound confident and like she knew what the fuck she was doing, and it wasn’t all just stuff Ezra had told her. She’d been too relaxed about it all…

“And I know it isn’t ‘some crazy ploy.’ If it was, you would’ve chosen a better Vanburen.” She continued, meeting his eyes with an almost… joking light in her own. A self deprecating joke, perhaps.

Casey couldn’t help but giggle, shaking his head.
”You’re the best Vanburen to me.”
His hands slowly slipped up to her face, both hands cradling her cheeks. He placed a tender kiss on her lips, letting his forehead rest against hers. When he finally pulled away, he looked at her with dreamy eyes and a slight smile.
”Coming home to you will always be worth the price of living in this nightmare world. You’re a blessing in my life.” he did his best not to break down.

For a moment, he saw Mary’s face. Her fury and rage. The face that nearly killed him… Because he hesitated. He gave himself up, because he hoped they’d run.
This nightmare world.
Clearing his throat, he turned his head into his own arm so he wouldn’t accidentally cough on her, then sniffled.
”B-but… Yeah. Contracts. I guess none of that ever got settled. I’ll call Elise tomorrow and we’ll schedule something. Negotiate or whatever. I doubt it’ll be too much of an issue.”

Thoughtlessly, the next question left his lips.
”Speaking of honey and bees and issues… Did you talk to Tamara and Dadonda?” he asked so innocently, as if he was a child who hadn’t set her up.

Trisha let out a light huff as the topic moved on from things she didn’t particularly want to talk about, to another she didn’t particularly want to talk about. But it was the one question she was alright to answer. The one good thing that came out of going to that meeting - aside from maybe the strange revelation that Layla wasn’t so awful.

“Yeah, I did. Gin was pretty insistent I talk to them to see if Dadonda could get the Queen to come out. It was almost like someone planned it all out.” She paused, tilting her head up and narrowing her eyes at him again. It was more teasing this time - because it was fine, he’d been doing something nice for her. It wasn’t his fault all that shit had happened in the run up to it. After forcing him to wait a little bit, just staring at him, she eventually relented.
“It worked. She came out for a bit as an extra big, ghost bee. She’s promised to help me more too… but no, she won’t come out now. I asked earlier. She’s gone back to sleep. She said that she’d help me with my magic too, so… that was nice. That went well.”

He was suddenly grinning from ear to ear.
”I fucking knew it! Who else but Dadonda!? Yessssss!” he subtly pumped his fist before pulling Trisha extra close. His body rocked back and forth slightly.
”God damn, I’m so fucking proud of you…”
And then he turned his head slightly to look at her chest, poking her in the sternum gently.
”And you! In there! Thanks for fuckin’ showing up, Lady! You made Trisha happy!”

Beaming, he started trying to pull away.
”This calls for fruit! Fruit party for the bees, come on! We’ll get to chopping, then bring it into the hive for them!”

“Babe, it’s the middle of the night. Most of them are asleep. We can do it tomorrow.” Trisha tried to say gently, because he was happy for her, but there was a hint of harshness in her tone that suggested she wouldn’t really take any arguments against it. At the same time, she enacted the Trisha special - arms and legs wrapping around him to prevent him from pulling away like he was trying to.
“And I’m tired too. I’ve had to deal with a lot today.”

Casey didn’t really hear Trisha when she said she had to deal with a lot. He felt a slight lurch in his brain that hung him up on a thousand questions… But he settled for one, because ultimately he couldn’t fathom what’d been so hard that she didn’t want to celebrate such a great thing.
”Like… What?”
The tone was all wrong, like he couldn’t keep the sensation of skepticism out of his voice.
”Did you kill someone today?”

“Do I need to kill someone to be tired?” Trisha went tense immediately, limbs around Casey loosening as they started to withdraw towards herself. She didn’t really get the implication there… had he forgotten what had happened that morning? Even without all the shit that happened at the meeting, it was still enough.
“I fought with Lila, remember? Then I had to deal with Leon being a dick- twice- and Alizée being a dick- also twice. So yeah, I’m tired, but you can go give the bees fruit yourself if you want.” Her tone and body language screamed bitterness and irritation now.

Casey felt her getting colder almost instantly. He tensed in return, not only in body, but in speech.
”Yeah, right Trisha. Like me, wanting to do something nice, is asking a lot of effort out of you. Christ, I figured you’d be game; you don’t even have to cut the fucking fruit.”
Swearing probably wasn’t the greatest method of de escalation. Pushing himself up, he sat with one leg pulled close and the other dangling off the bed.
”I know for a fact that the keylime you ate should’ve given you plenty of extra energy for the day… So why don’t you just come out and say that it was fucking horrible and that you never want to go again. Spare me the excitement that you maybe actually met people who you want to see again… And what about Leon, huh? What’d he say to you now that I need to make a fucking problem over? I know he’s still awake, I’ll fucking go and make it a problem right now if that’s what you want!”

Trisha sat up too, knees pulled in tight to her chest and arms wrapped around her legs. Her hidden hands clenched into the fabric covering them. She scowled at him, all that pent up agitation that had barely been taken out on Leon and Alizée coming right back up.
“It’s not the people at the meeting. They were fine!-” Bar Alizée and the weird Sycamore Fanfiction circle-
“-Yeah, it was fucking horrible, but not because of them. Do you really want to know what Leon said? Which one, the first or second time? Let’s start with the second time. Because yeah, I want to make that a problem- but not with him.”

As she spoke her voice got colder - though her tone didn’t get any louder. She wasn’t shouting like she had been with Leon. Her entire body was tight, and she was angry, but it was cold vitriol that came out of her lips.
“You’re eating the fucking food, Casey. He told me to keep you away from it when he knew you were eating it- and then used that to one up me and piss me off. Because I do what I want and- and you know what it does. Why are you eating it? Why do I get shit for not preventing it when I can’t.”

Casey’s whole torso reeled back slightly, surprise setting in on his face. His brow furrowed, and he tried to think about what that implied. That… Leon had told her to keep him away from…
”A fucking crescent roll is not going to kill me! Look, I get it, right? Fucking, yeah- Surveillance Cult! Sure! Everyone’s got eyes on everyone! But fuck that, how dare he try to make decisions for me, and how the fuck could you just play along with it!? Like, after dealing with the whole… Y’know, when you first met my folks? How you felt about people seeming to “know” you without ever asking anything in the first place?”

The irony wasn’t lost on him. It was a great big cycle of spy and be spied on, and it was almost endearing to see Trisha so easily slip into it when her interests were on the line.
”But you don’t even ask me? You don’t even think to question what my brother has to say, because you’re so willing to be skeptical about how we do things? Fuck that! Y’know-”
He stopped himself from saying something truly regrettable…
”-I just didn’t picture you being so hypocritical. The only thing I can think of is that you love me, and you’re worried, and you don’t want to see something happen to me. But I’m a big fucking boy, and I grew up eating this fucking food. It’s not a death sentence like they want you to think, Trisha. You can come clean of it, it’s just a matter of not being a fucking pussy like Leon is!”

“Then why did you go back to it?” Trisha hissed, breathing quickening as he managed to poke so many sore spots at once. She wasn’t a hypocrite, she didn’t quite love him yet- didn’t she?- it wasn’t the same.
“Yeah I’m worried, you think he told me and I jumped to do it cause it was Leon- or because I wanted to control you? I haven’t even stopped you from doing anything! I don’t care if it’s not a death sentence- I don’t want to eat it, I don’t want to see you trying to come clean of that shit. I don’t want to start finding black patches inside your mouth! If it’s hypocritical to care, then fine, I’m a hypocrite. Because me subtly making sure we eat takeaway and going to a normal fucking grocery store is the same level as finding out someone’s whole life story without ever talking to them. I’m just a controlling hypocrite who’s doing all of this for myself when I should just trust that everything’s fine.”

She let out a short, bitter laugh and tilted her head back.
“Sorry for being so skeptical about the fucking spying, oppressing cult.”

Oppressing… He trembled. A whole shot ran up and down his body, and every single face of death he’d seen that night crashed into him all at once.
”Oh… Oppressing. So that must’ve come up. How they feel wronged and put down, because we’d just as quickly eat their fucking caspers as we would put them to work doing useful shit? Don’t worry, none of them care when an Adept makes a problem for the upper crust just to have their entire families wiped out. They’d never tell you that we just kill, and kill, and kill up here; and how we do our absolute and ever-loving best to make sure that we don’t have packs of frothing Abcised monsters running around St. Portwell without culling them like rabid dogs!”

Casey stood now, taking a deep breath.
”Or that I’d be happy to let them all do it if it meant they’d shut the fuck up about it. Honestly, I mean congrats to you; you’re either-”
No. No. No.
”-I… I fucking love you. Goodnight, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He turned, made way for the stairs. He’d already said too much.

As Casey stood, Trisha had pushed herself back further onto the bed. Then, as he turned away, that harsh, acrid scent of her fear pheromones filled the air. They weren’t strong enough to get through his emotional field, but he’d felt them hitting up against it just as he smelt them.
“No, no- you’re not just allowed to leave,” Trisha grit out through the panic and anger clutching her at once. See you tomorrow always meant the same thing - a text the next morning ending everything. But it might be worse this time. Would he come back to end things with magical memory erasers and apparition suppression needles because he no longer-

She shot forward to the edge of the bed, hand reaching out to try and grab his wrist. The bees were buzzing agitatedly, clinging to her as her flight pheromones bombarded them. Just ask him to stay, apologise-
“Why didn’t you tell me about the fucking needles?! You think I care about anything else? I can’t lose them- was it so I wouldn’t know before it was too late?!”

Casey turned slowly, a look on his face that Trisha had only seen when he got particularly upset at Leon… When he learned that Leon was talking about her behind her back… The second day they even knew one another.
”Oh… So I could die a thousand deaths as long as you’ve got your bees? Nice… You could’ve said anything else, you could’ve asked me any other way… But that’s the qualifier you decide to make a big note of? You think I care about any- Yeah! Actually, I thought you cared about me, since you want to make a big fucking deal about the fact that I prefer eating bread because the sight and smell of cooked meat makes me fucking sick. And the only way I know I can get enough calories and micros in a day to keep myself in fighting condition without feeling like I want to rip my guts out is Andrade’s fucking bread!”

He didn’t leave… He just stood there, her hand still holding his wrist, and a more and more disgusted look formed. Waiting.

“I- I- I didn’t mean it like that!” Trisha choked out, the bitter smell in the air growing stronger. He hated her, he hated her, he hated-
“I didn’t know! Nobody tells me anything then they get pissed off when I find out and get upset!”

”Because you don’t ask questions, Trisha! You just fucking wait and then get upset at what you don’t know! So, fuck it! I didn’t tell you about the fucking spikes because I know for a fact that if anyone ever so much as got close to you with one of those, I would rip their fucking arms off and feed them to them!”
His other hand gripped the one that was still clinging to him, prying it away before cupping it in both of his massive hands.
”I have zero patience for this right now. For you just assuming that you know how things are going to go… I can feel your anxiety and your nerves, and I understand that you’re under duress. But if you can’t accept the truth that I’m dedicated to you? Then I don’t know how I’m supposed to convince you. You said you didn’t want Temple information, so I don’t provide it. I don’t tell you, because you don’t want to know. You don’t ask questions, so I don’t answer them. I tell you to stay on a set path, you deviate and you get into a fight with some fucking stray pigeon!”

He got real close, crouching next to the bed and leaning in.
”I. Love. You. Nobody is going to hurt you on my watch. But I cannot deal with this right now, because maybe you had a tough night? But I’ve killed to come back home and be excited with you. And you throw it in my fucking face like doing something together isn’t worth the effort. So, congratulations: You started a fight, now you’ve earned the consequence.”

He let her hand go, standing back up.
”Now, am I allowed to go to a different part of the house we share? Or do I have to stand here like you tell me to? Because I’m a fucking moron, and I will just stand here.”

As Casey had gotten close to her, Trisha flinched back slightly- automatically- and her eyes squeezed shut. She heard everything he was saying without really hearing it. He loved her, he wanted to protect her, but he was still leaving- of course he was leaving. All because she’d wanted to just cuddle in bed rather than drag herself back out. Unlike Casey, Trisha didn’t quite have the luxury of an emotional field that protected against her pheromones - in an enclosed space like this she just hit herself with them over and over again.

But he’d let go, he was leaving- no, not leaving, going somewhere else in the house. Or just standing there. But she couldn’t make him do that, no matter how pissed off she was, or how scared she was that he’d leave and come back only to kick her out. But if she made him stay he’d only get more upset at her. It’d just make things worse- weren’t things already at a point of no return? She didn’t know how to explain to him that her believing him and accepting it were two different things. It’d been proved time and time again how unloveable she was. People said one thing, and did another.

“I- I’m not going to control you,” she managed to whisper, opening her eyes again and forcing herself to look at him. She raised a hand to push away the tears that had started to form in her eyes, rubbing at them as if to stop it. She didn’t like crying when it was real.
“You can do what you want.”

Seeing her like this made him want to stay. To sit and resolve it and work things out. But at the same time, he wasn’t sure how he was going to come back from some of the things he said. He wasn’t sure if it was just a matter of time before-
”I wanted to go and chop up fruit and have a nice night with you. But it feels like that was asking a lot, so I’ll make this short and sweet: Do you want to be up here where there’s nothing but you and your thoughts? Or are you going back downstairs to the den where at least you can entertain yourself?”

Trisha sat and stared at him for a moment, as if the question wasn’t directed at her. Her hands were still at her eyes, fighting a losing battle of trying to block a biological function. She’d wanted a nice night too, here. She didn’t understand why that had been such a problem. Why did people always think she just never wanted to put the effort in?
“Downstairs. I have some research to do on my laptop.” An unnecessary explanation to show she wasn’t just going to be having fun or anything. She slowly uncurled her legs to stand up, gaze dropping to the floor.

Casey stepped to the side. He desperately tried to force himself statuesque, but he could feel her pain. Every ache radiating from her half-shattered morale made him feel like he was stuffing the nails into the coffin with his bare hands. So, he simply couldn’t.
His arm reached out, scooped her by the bicep of one arm into his embrace, and held her tightly. Not aggressively tightly, but enough that she couldn’t just sprint away from him.
”I. Love. You. One day you’ll trust me, and you won’t have to ask fucking questions… But it’s important to cool off. Please, think about what you want to really say when we talk again. I’ll think about how I can apologize too… Because we’re not over.”

Trisha trembled lightly in his arms. She couldn’t stop herself from crying now - her hands were at her side, so the tears flowed freely. And she hated it. She was so scared, so attached. She’d done it again, she’d fallen in so deeply that she’d drown before she could crawl out. We’re not over, we’re not over, we’re not over, we’re not over. She repeated it herself, like a mantra to stop herself from lashing out again or just completely breaking.
“Okay.” All that she was able to get out was one quiet word of agreement.

He softened his hold until his hands were just barely touching hers.
”Go on… I’ll get the pillows and blankets.”
It helped him to care… To make sure that it didn’t end with angry shouting. That’s how he’d always seen it end… Angry shouting, then a calm week after. Never resolution. He wondered if his Father had been this way, or if their relationship’s dynamic was different… He’d have died to ask.