Lately, Damascus had been far too careless with his shadow-hopping travels. It was dangerous to begin with: travel like that was always at risk of letting his presence be known to those who might still be looking for him. It wasn't also risky for other reasons- if he wasnt completely careful or focused, there was no telling where he could end up.
And that's how he ended up somewhere out in a woodsy area, somewhere near the suburbs of a city in a place he didn't recognize, when he had been trying to visit the ocean.
As soon as he'd taken inventory of his surroundings, he stared down at his Hawaiian shirt and cargo shorts and sighed deeply. Well- he was going to be stuck here a while. It was best to find out exactly where he was.
He started walking toward the closest neighborhood, thinking he should clear the trees if he wanted to find other people.
A rustling sound stopped him in his tracks just as he was walking up to the sidewalk, and he peered around.
There, just ahead on the path, was a man with old-fashioned headphones jogging in place. Damascus let out a little breath and walked up, trying to get his attention.
"Sir- sir- excuse me!" He called, waving his arm. The jogger turned around, and Damascus gave him a friendly smile. The man seemed delighted to be acknowledged for some reason. "Could you tell me where exactly we are? What provence, I mean."
The jogger nodded quickly and spoke without removing his headphones. "Sure thing- you're in South Haven."
Something about this name made Damascus do a little double take, and he looked around, frowning into the trees and trying to figure out if he'd been here before. The name sounded so familiar, and it stirred a distant memory in him. What was it...
Oh! Oh, that was right!
As it came to him, he beamed at the jogger brightly. If it was the same South Haven, this town was the very place his oath sister Schadel lived!
The first thing that she noticed when she woke up was that someone was poking her - which implied she was one of the last people in the house to get up, since she was the one who usually did the poking. But she was tired after their last case, and she rolled over in an attempt to get a few more minutes of sleep in.
The poking stopped.
She let out a small, content sigh and pulled up her covers-
Lights suddenly flooded the room. She shot up with a start, silver eyes groggily looking around to see who had turned on her room's light. Edward stood by the door, already dressed in his more...creative outfit. His hand hovered over the light switch for a moment.
"Do you know where Claire and Liz are?" he asked.
"No...?" she groggily replied, grabbing a pillow from behind her and covering her face with it. She had just gotten up - if they had left, neither one had told her. "Maybe they're out? Claire...Claire could be getting some more art supplies, and Liz could be..."
She faltered, trying to think of why Liz would be leaving so early in the morning.
"...Getting breakfast?" She paused, suddenly very alert and awake. "I hope that means she's getting donuts."
Edward immediately perked up as well. "We haven't had a donut day in awhile."
"We're overdue," Schadel agreed. She slipped out of bed, her form effortlessly switching from its grim reaper one to her favorite human one. Her feet touched the ground, now covered in a nice pair of tall leather boots. "I hope they're back soon - I'm starting to get hungry."
Edward nodded. "Me too - I'm going to try finding Claire, since donut days can only happen when everyone is home."
"I'll stay here in case she comes back," Schadel said.
Even though his mouth was currently covered by bandages, she knew he was smiling underneath them.
Claire Fortier
She kept the box of colored pencils and sketch pad tucked underneath her arm as she walked down the street, ignoring the glances she got from the rare ghosts out this early in the morning. Her wallet was a little more empty (she slipped the money on the counter after getting herself the supplies she needed) but she didn't mind. Pay day was coming up, and Schadel had a habit of giving out money even when it wasn't time to.
She turned onto another street, watching the sun as it began to rise. She would need to get back soon if she didn't want people to question the floating art supplies - though, in a town like South Haven, people were more likely to post about it on their Instagrams than call an exorcist.
That was when she saw him, talking with the ghost of Mr. Dixon.
For the first moment, she was sure he was just another ghost. A new one that she had never seen before, but a ghost all the same. But as she got closer, she realized he felt alive. Claire could never explain why ghosts felt different from the living now that she was a ghost herself, but she was sure of it. The man chatting with Mr. Dixon was no ghost.
Which meant he could see ghosts.
The sketchpad and colored pencils fell to the ground.
Mr. Dixon turned his head at the noise. Claire hurriedly picked up her art supplies, gaze never leaving the stranger's face. What was he? A regular old human like Liz? A grim reaper like Schadel? Something else? Now that her initial shock was fading, she was able to calmly make her way over to him. He didn't seem like an exorcist, and he hadn't whipped out a reaping weapon yet. Everything seemed safe.
He jumped a bit as he heard a clatter behind him, and turned to peer into the early morning dampness. A girl was scooping up colorful objects that she'd appeared to have dropped, and was putting them back into her bag.
She started walking over as soon as Damascus had thought to go over and help her, and he was a little startled by the greeting. Delighted, but surprised.
"Hello!" he smiled at her and turned from her to the jogger, his excitement at his realization from a moment earlier still present. "I was just telling this kind sir here that I seem to have gotten lost- I know now that this place is called South Haven, and if I'm not wrong-"
He gave a little chuckle and decided to just come out with his inquiry. It couldn't hurt anything.
"Do either of you know where I can find Schadel- Schadel Kueper. That's right." he paused to recount her surname for a moment, but was unswayed, still casting a wide grin on the pair of strangers he hadn't bothered to introduce himself to.
He really must have been a reaper like Schadel - she couldn't think of why else someone who could see ghosts would want to see Schadel. Then again, he could just been in need of some help from the agency; it was just strange that he had mentioned Schadel instead of the group as a whole.
"I'm sorry," Mr. Dixon said. He was smiling as he spoke, not apologetically but happily. "I know Schadel, but I don't know where she lives. Claire, on the other hand, does."
Claire grinned. "That's me, by the way. Claire Fortier, at your service. I can show you where Schadel is. Just follow me."
She could ask him more questions once they were away from Mr. Dixon - mainly what his purpose here was.
Damascus nodded and started to follow Claire, delighted that she seemed to know Schadel well. He stretch out his hand, about to introduce himself, and then stopped short.
Now that Damascus was actually getting a good look at her, he realized that he should have registered her appearance lot sooner. She was covered in terrible burns, ones that both deformed her and seemed fresh, and yet- she didn't seem effected by them at all.
At that moment, he had stopped in his tracks, and was spluttering as he tried to register what he was seeing. Finally, he thought to get a read on her soul, just enough to see what she was superficially. His blood ran cold in his veins.
He was all too familiar with the feeling he was greeted with- the emptiness, the partiality- the over all cold sensation it envoked.
Claire was a spector.
As soon as he made this connection, Damascus took a few large steps back, stumbling over his feet.
"N- no, get away from me- I'm not going to follow you!" He yelled, turning without hesitation to run away.
He should have known. It was all too convenient that Claire happened to know Schadel well- she was just saying that to trick him, so that Shen could turn him in. He wasn't sure any more what price was being offered for his capture, but he knew there was one, and it was high.
As the man ran away, Claire - like she usually did - spoke the first thing that came to mind. "Well, someone's rude," she said.
She stared after him.
Then she shrugged and readjusted her art supplies under her arm, since he was sure to find his way to the agency eventually - she could bug him about it then.
Damascus ran down the sidewalk, breathing hard and checking over his shoulder every few seconds to make sure the spector wasn't following him. Of course, this meant that he tripped over his own feet and nearly plummeted just as often.
As he rounded the corner and neared the more domestic areas of the neighborhood, he looked over his shoulder once again...
...and smacked straight into a figure.
He blinked up from the ground, his expression very fogged and confused as he tried to understand just what he was looking at. A man stood in front of him, covered in bandages, wearing sunglasses and a face mask. He instinctively recoiled, not only at the man's alarming appearance, but at the tell-tale cold shock that had gone through him when he'd bumped into him.
"W- what're-" he spluttered, scrambling to get back to his feet.
He was already on his guard from running from Claire, and so immediately suspected this person as being a spector. He couldn't very well take off running again- the spector was blocking his path, and he couldn't very well run back the way he came.
He was left standing dumbly in place, his hands up as if to protect his face.
That took a moment to register. He knew that was what was supposed to happen in a situation like this - it was why he wore an outfit as stupid as his current one. But something about the event was off; he didn't know why someone would run right into him, and the recoiling didn't make any sense.
And now his hands were up-
Wait.
Didn't he know the man standing before him? The style of clothing was familiar, and he recognized the general build. Even more telling was the hair that was peeking out from behind the hands covering the man's face - it was black and in a familiar style. Memories started to come back to him the longer he stared.
"Damascus? he managed to get out, pulling his brother's hands away from his face. If he had any doubts before, they were quickly absolved - it was none other than his brother's familiar red eyes looking back at him. "How are you-Why are you-What-"
He took a deep breath.
There was someone walking down the sidewalk across from theirs. He let out a quiet swear underneath his breath - now they were giving him a funny look, too.
He kept his hand on his brother's wrist and started to bring him down the street. "Whatever you do," he whispered, even though he had no real reason to do it right now, "don't act like you hear me saying something. I'm supposed to be mute."
Then he turned back to his brother, giving him a smile that Damascus could probably just barely make out underneath the bandages covering his mouth.
"She's never going to believe it when I show up with you," he said. His voice was louder now; he didn't feel like he had to be secretive. "The plan was to get Claire, but she's probably already on her way back now."
His eyes widened as a sudden thought came to him.
"You have no idea how lucky you are," he said in the most serious tone he could possibly muster. "I found you just in time for D-Day. I just hope there's enough to go around."
He spluttered a little as the bandaged man grabbed his arm and started pulling him off to who knew where. His eyes widened even further in alarm when the man said his name. A thought crossed his mind that just maybe this person knew him, but he was too startled by this and the previous events that he couldn't manage to attempt to figure anything out.
"W- what're you-" he started, only to cut himself out at the man's plea of silence. He immediately obeyed.
After a moment, he opened his mouth, utterly confused now as he realized that he had been letting himself get pulled for a bit. And had the man just mentioned Claire??
"Where exactly are you taking me?" he hissed quietly. "A- and how do I - do you know me?"
He came to a sudden stop, nearly letting go of his brother's wrist in his shock.
He turned back to Damascus; he stared at him from behind the sunglasses, trying to figure out if this was some weird joke. But Damascus seemed entirely serious, and almost scared, even though his brother should have never felt that way about him.
"I was taking you home," he said. "You...You don't recognize me? But you saw me wearing this before, back in the church..."
He looked Damascus over and took his hand away.
He placed a hand on his chest.
"Damascus, it's me," he said. "Your brother. Edward. Are you okay?"
It took a moment for this to register, but as soon as it did, his face collapsed in relief. He quickly stepped forward to close the distance between he and his brother, and pulled him into a bear hug.
"Oh, thank goodness." he breathed. "I'm so happy to see you Edward. I've had such a crazy morning, and I guess I should have recognized your voice but- oh, I'm so glad you're here!"
He paused his little fumbling of words and simply squeezed Edward tight, before pulling back a bit to look at him, a wide smile on his face.
"Oh, and I suppose you were going to take me to Schadel's! How perfect, I was just-" he stopped for a moment, blinked, and then his eyes widened. "Wait- is Claire one of your friends?"
The sudden - and tight - hug made him give a startled squeak that he hastily tried to disguise with a cough, but his attempt almost certainly failed even from his perspective. When his brother finally pulled back, he let out a relieved sigh and took a big gulp of air.
"Claire is," he confirmed. "She works for Schadel, too. Did you run into her?"
Damascus, oblivious to Edward's discomfort, nodded and bit his lip, looking abashed.
"Um, yes, I guess you could say that.." he mumbled with a frown. "she offered to take me to Schadel, but I thought that she was trying to trick me and was... goodness, I was so rude to her."
He heaved a little sigh and looked up. "Well, at least I'll have a chance to apologize. Oh, and actually introduce myself this time. I sort of just... ran away."
He frowned and furrowed his brow behind the bandages.
"Why did you-" he started to say, only to remember what had happened back in the bar when they had run into each other again. Damascus had been terrified of him because he was a ghost; it was only when they reassured him that Edward didn't even know him that he had calmed down. Edward didn't fully understand why ghosts were so bad for Damascus, but Claire was clearly not alive - her burns made sure of that.
"She's used to that," Edward said. It didn't make it any better, but it wasn't like her heart was easy to break. She was pretty good at not being especially sensitive - though he was sure she'd want to have a talk later to feel a little better. "You'll just have to deal with her messing with you more than she's messing with the rest of us, then - it's her way of getting revenge. Expect ample amounts of teasing. Claire's merciless like that."
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