7-

 

When Locke woke up the next morning, it was to the sight of sunlight streaking through his window and a white-haired dead man moving around the tiny enclosure laughingly called a kitchen. He was fully aware of the fact he had nothing edible in that room, since he didn’t even know how to cook in the first place (aside from campfire cooking, which was one of the easiest things in the world), and he also knew that even if he did manage to leave something edible in the kitchen, there was no possible way it would smell that good.

 

“Good morning, Locke,” Aidenai called out cheerfully, wearing a blue apron that Locke KNEW he didn’t own, mostly because he’d never worn an apron. Ever. “How are you feeling?”

 

“…huh?” He made to slide out of bed…only to find himself TIED DOWN. “WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?!”

 

“Oh, sorry. Precautions in case you had another seizure while I was at the store,” Aidenai said cheerfully. “It’d be bad if you rolled out of bed, after all.”

 

“You’re one of those annoying morning people, aren’t you?” Locke groaned, and his houseguest chuckled.

 

“Actually, no. It’s late afternoon.” He set his- was that an OVEN MIT? - next to the stove, striding over. “I’m about as crabby as you are all the time in the morning.”

 

“Hah. Hah. Funny. Now untie me,” Locke snapped.

 

“I will,” Aidenai reassured him, pulling one of the kitchen chairs over towards the bedside. “But first, I need some answers.”

 

“Yeah? Well, I need to have some incentive to answer, don’t I?” Locke growled, and this time, he was fairly sure Aidenai’s smile was supposed to be that intimidating.

 

“Well, if an expertly cooked lunch isn’t enough…” he paused, looking thoughtful. “Well, I can always cut you loose when you’ve answered my questions.”

 

“Or I can just kill you and incinerate the…what IS this stuff, anyway?”

 

“Fishing twine specialized for the ocean,” Aidenai shrugged. “Good stuff. Fire proof, too. Now, first off. Is this the first time you’ve had a seizure?”

 

Locke glared at him. “I don’t know.”

 

Aidenai blinked. “Why?”

 

“I. Don’t. Know. Why.” Locke ground out. “My memory’s a big, loveably fuzzy bunny that seems to hop to wherever it wants and leave me without a care, alright?”

 

“Okay,” Aidenai shrugged. “Next.”

 

Locke rolled his eyes, but Aidenai ignored him.

 

“Who was talking to me last night?”

 

It was Locke’s turn to blink in surprise. “Huh? What do you mean? When I let you in, or…what?”

 

“I see,” Aidenai frowned, and Locke jerked back. “What?”

 

“You…you look weird frowning, is all…”

 

Aidenai chuckled, shaking his head and smiling softly. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

 

“You’re welcome. Now UNTIE me.”

 

And then that SCARY grin was back. “Just one more question. What’s your relation to Major General Grigorsen?”

 

Locke paused. “You know, my bed really isn’t that uncomfortable…”

 

“LOCKE.” Aidenai snapped, and Locke found himself actually wincing at the tone.

 

“Damn it! FINE! He’s kind of like an adopted uncle sort of guy, except he wasn’t the nice kind of uncle but the kind that gives you and your cousins jobs…” Locke trailed off, eyes glazing over as his head tilted to the side

 

“Locke?” Aidenai asked sharply. “Locke…you okay?”

 

The silence seared the room with pain.

 

“Locke. LOCKE!”

 

And still, glazed eyes stared through him, lost.

 

 

“Locke. You alright, kid?” his other self asked concernedly, just as he realized he was in the field of ashes once again.

 

“…huh? What’s going on?” Locke muttered, and Aelar shook his head.

 

“Damn it, I’m sorry about last night. Really.” He shrugged, and with a twist of his wrist a flurry of ash erupted into the sky, forming the black-and-white image of a concerned Aidenai staring at his hands in obvious frustration. “I think it’d be best if I took over while you recuperate, okay? You can see just fine, right?”

 

“Wait, WHAT?” Locke snapped as Aelar grinned at him.

 

“I promise to be a good boy, okay? No naughty activities with the white-haired Pretty, no explosions, nothing but me sitting around and living while you get your shit together, okay kid?” Aelar cajoled.

 

“I can’t HEAR, though,” Locke pointed at where Aidenai was (of all things) twirling his wrists around and seeming to verbally berate them, eyes still fixed on Locke’s face.

 

Aelar shrugged. “Neither can I, when you’re in here with me. But I promise, as soon as you’re strong enough, control goes immediately back to you, alright? It’s for your own good, just like everything else I do…”

 

“Hey!” Locke interjected as his other self began to fade. “HEY! Aelar! GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE-!”

 

But, with a somehow reassuring wink, his other self had seemingly turned into colorful ash and drifted away on the breeze that had ALWAYS followed him around, him and his damn flowy, filmy clothing.

 

And then, the wind picked up, and Locke could hear EVERY DAMN WORD that bastard was saying with their body.

 

 

Aelar couldn’t help but be a bit overwhelmed by finally being OUT after all this time, burning red eyes wincing right along with the rest of their body. The air here was completely different, and dear Iram, the bed FELT-

 

“Who are you?”

 

And the man with such long, lovely white hair that looked like spun silver in the right sort of lighting was intelligent, too, apparently. He wondered what it felt like, running through his hands. He wondered what it smelled like…

 

“Huh,” Aelar commented, remembering he was still tied onto their bed as his hand tried to reach out and experiment. “There’s no chance of you letting me just feel for a little bit and get back to you, is there?”

 

Aidenai frowned at him. “Where’s Locke.”

 

“Why Pretty, you’re so forceful,” Aelar grinned at him, and at the mental bolt of displeasure sighed. “But, I promised. No fun. Damn.”

 

“Are you a threat to Locke?”

 

“A THREAT?” Aelar asked, offended to the core. “HELL no! That kid owes me his life more times than he…yeah. No, I’m not a threat to him.” He grinned suggestively. “Your chastity, maybe, but not to Locke.”

 

Aidenai simply nodded. “Do you have a name, then?”

 

“You can call me Aelar, although you’d better not call Locke that,” he said, making it seem like he was lounging beneath the fishing twine instead of being held down against his will. “We’re definitely not the same person. Don’t get us confused.”

 

“How could I possibly do that?” Aidenai asked, and the smile Aelar recognized was slipping into place.

 

“HEY! Hey, Pretty, don’t go slipping all polite on me,” Aelar snapped, and Aidenai frowned.

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“Damn,” Aelar sighed. “And you were so HOT all forceful…”

 

“Well, it’s always good to know I have the visual approval of someone’s alternate conscious.” Aidenai said cheerily, and smiled at him. Aelar couldn’t help but agree with Locke- that smile needed to die; it was so obviously fake if you’d ever spent any time with the assassin. “Now, Aelar, how long will you be around, and is Locke okay?”

 

“Locke’s fine, he’s just a bit…fragile after last night,” Aelar said, and ignored the next stab of anger from Locke. “I’ll be around until he’s well enough to return.”

 

Aidenai’s head tilted a bit to the side again, and now Aelar had two urges- run a hand through that sinfully perfect hair and see what his skin riiiight below his earlobe tasted like. SO pretty, this guy was. It was enough to make a lecherous fiend like himself pant to death.

 

“Now, I’m sorry, but I’ve just gotta ask- the prettiness. Does that come with the memory too, or is that just a byproduct of the breeding?”

 

Aidenai just blinked at that, and shrugged. Aelar couldn’t help but be impressed. Talk about taking new information in stride…he was a veritable force of nature in that respect, apparently.

 

“I can’t really say,” Aidenai answered with the utmost sincerity. “I’d have to say both- maintenance, after all.”

 

“Ah,” Aelar nodded understandably. “That DOES make sense…”

 

“Does Locke know?”

 

Aelar snored. “Not a chance. He’s the most unobservant kid with a photographic memory I’ve come across…he’d make RUMORS look bad.”

 

And this time, Locke’s “HEY!” was almost audible. Aelar beamed at the assassin.

 

“He’s actually strong enough to talk in our head now,” the red-eyed man said conspiratorially. “Means he’s about a fourth of the way there, I’d guess. So, could I convince you to untie us? I promised to be good while I was out.”

 

“Can you block Locke out?” Aidenai asked, and Aelar shrugged.

 

“If I put effort into it, yes. Not gonna without very good reason, though. The kid and I have a big trust thing going on, you know.”

 

“I’m glad to hear that. You’re a very good Protector.”

 

“Thank you!” Aelar beamed. Aidenai smiled politely in response.

 

“You’re welcome. Now, could you please block Locke for a moment?”

 

“No.” Aelar’s answer was downright chipper, cheerful enough it could give a songbird a run for its money. “I’m sorry, Pretty, maybe I didn’t explain this to you very well. See, I trust Locke enough to let him see every damn thing that I’m going to do, plan on doing, or could do, as long as it’s not going to hurt him. In return, I get constant surveillance, the chance to jump in whenever it may be needed without his protestation, and occasional fun times when he gets drunk enough to let me have them.”

 

“THAT WAS YOU!” Locke’s angry shove actually gave Aelar a headache. “YOU’RE the one who slept with Sage! DAMN IT, AELAR!”

 

“Quiet down, kid,” Aelar grumbled, wincing. “You’re gonna be hurting when you’re in charge at this rate.”

 

“Why did you cause the seizures?” Aidenai asked, and Aelar glared.

 

“I didn’t cause them. Locke went into epileptic shock after…remembering some things.” Aelar frowned. “MY things. I don’t know how they slipped, but I won’t let it happen again.”

 

“That’s good,” Aidenai said.

 

Of course, Aelar was too busy squinting at nothing as he continued to receive the worst tongue lashing since…well, he couldn’t think of since when, but it was worse than anything anyone had ever dared to give HIM in…well, ever. At least, as far back as he could remember.

 

He’d had enough. “Locke, I’m being good for you,” Aelar snapped. “That means you have to be good for me too, okay kid? So sit down, rest, and SHUT THE HELL UP. Besides, that was, what, three and a half years ago? You can’t change it, I can’t change it, and he doesn’t even WANT to change it.”

 

“Is he okay?” Aidenai asked, casually starting a cut on the twine holding Aelar down.

 

“Oh yes, just being an annoying prude is all,” Aelar snorted. “Nothing new. Honestly, the kid’s too nice for his own good.”

 

“Too nice?” He was sawing away, starting at the last knot on the bed.

 

“Well yeah. He doesn’t kill anyone on purpose, he doesn’t-” Aelar stopped mid-sentence, glaring as Locke began to give him the migraine of the century. “I KNOW! Fine, I’ll shut up if you shut up, alright? Holy shit, can you be annoying.”

 

Locke’s agreement settled around Aelar, and he set to silently pouting in the bed. “You owe me for this, kid,” Aelar grumbled, and Aidenai watched as the eyes went distant and blank once again.

 

A minute later, maroon eyes squeezed shut. “Ow.”

 

“Welcome back,” Aidenai said, annoyingly pleasant as always. With a flick of his wrist, the twine snapped off, pulled away in less than a second. “How you feeling?”

 

“Annoyed as fuck, how ‘bout you?” Locke growled weakly.

 

“Go back to sleep. You look like you need it,” Aidenai said, and casually drew the chair back to the kitchen table.

 

“Wait, wait, wait,” Locke held up a hand, and the assassin’s head, tilted slightly to the side in a questioning pose, reappeared above him. “How the hell can you just TAKE this shit?”

 

Aidenai grinned at him. “There’s not that much to take from it. You’ve got a Protector,” he shrugged. “It makes sense, if you think about it. Especially with someone who can blow me into a brick wall midair without actually needing to concentrate OR being knocked unconscious for a couple days.”

 

And then he actually WINKED. Locke stared at him.

 

“That was weird,” Locke finally stated, and Aidenai just laughed, head shaking slightly as he made his way back to the area jokingly referred to as the kitchen. Except…with Aidenai in there, it actually seemed kitchen-like.

 

“Hey, Aidenai,” Locke called out, only to get no response. “Aidenai?” Still nothing. Glaring, Locke lurched out of the bed. “HEY! CORPSE!”

 

“Didn’t I tell you to go back to sleep?” Aidenai’s head popped back in, a pensive expression on his exaggerated features. “I could have SWORN I did. Huh.” And his head then rounded the corner again.

 

“Ha ha ha. Very funny. I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, but-”

 

And then he was tied to the bed. AGAIN. With a not-too-happy Aidenai glaring down at him, leaning over low enough so that he was practically laying on him. And damn if it wasn’t intimidating, too.

 

“I know this isn’t a very good thing for a house-guest to do, but when their host is going to further weaken and possibly kill themselves, one has to do what one must,” Aidenai stated calmly, and Locke glared up at him.

 

“You are NEVER getting sanctuary again, you overprotective, know-it-all, annoying, short little bitch,” Locke snapped (gleefully remembering that he was, in fact, just about an inch taller than the rope-happy assassin).

 

Aidenai bit his lip, but that didn’t stop Locke from seeing something different in his turquoise eyes. It definitely wasn’t hurt or regret, though.

 

“Now would be a bad time to take my rain check,” he finally stated, and as Locke blinked at him a hand flicked out…

 

…and Locke was suddenly soooo tired…

 

“Sleep well, Locke.”

 

“I…hate you…sometimes…” Locke managed to get out before his mind dropped off the continent and into a sea of dreamless sleep.