James found himself really, really missing his phone. With his pager, he could communicate with any of the ladies in their cabin, essentially, but everything else had to be communicated by word of mouth. Which meant he was having the same conversation, again, with Lyall and Cyrin, catching them both up to speed with everything regarding the wendigo. This time, he was more thorough, so that they wouldn't have to speak on this matter again.
James had a chance to apologize to Lyall for not telling him sooner, but Lyall brushed it off, instead insisting that he will be taking point on "solving this monster problem" and that in the meantime, James was not to do anything "stupid." I.E. go after Constantine himself.
Frankly, James was a little insulted that Lyall assumed he would do that. But also, Lyall wasn't completely wrong to make that assumption. James would have done that maybe a year or two ago, but not anymore.
He was fine with Lyall taking over. Honestly, he was relieved.
And yet, now that Lyall was in charge of recruiting help and organizing some kind of defense force, James felt like he didn't know what to do with himself. He still didn't feel safe going out by himself, but he didn't feel safe at home either. Wherever he was, it felt like a death trap waiting to happen, even with Kazimir - who Lyall had pulled into this now, too - guarding the cabin-front.
With his... girlfriend there too.
James didn't bother talking to them much aside from a thank-you, and making sure they had food and water and things they needed. They were pretty easy to please and content with one another's company, so James didn't feel pressured to entertain. Turning into a recluse, he withdrew back into the cabin, feeling utterly useless as he channeled his anxious energy into cleaning and cooking. And he wasn't even good at cooking.
Boxed mac-n-cheese it was.
He stirred it over the stove-top, pouring in the fake-cheese. The smell was familiar, if a bit disappointing, but James was too fried to care. He leaned over the pot and let the cheesy steam warm his face, not sure if doing so was disgusting or normal. Maybe it was better not to think on it at all.
When the cheese was mixed in, he took the pot off the heat and set it on a cool burner so it could cool. Then he busied himself with cleaning the dishes and utensils he'd used, along with a few others that were left in the sink from the morning.
He was just about done when he heard a knock on the door.
Head jerking over his shoulder, he hoped it wasn't any bad news.
He left the kitchen and hesitantly approached the front door, peeking out the window first to see who it was. Instead of seeing Kazimir, however, he saw a man he... didn't quite recognize.
James squinted. Was that Alan? No... it looked like one of the guys from the dock. Alan's brother, maybe. He was wearing a backwards cap and a black, baggy shirt. Well, he was wearing black from head to toe, really, aside from the silver chain around his neck.
James felt a bit embarassed he'd mistaken the man for Alan, considering Alan never dressed like that. Ever.
Hesitantly, James opened the door a few inches.
"Hello?" he asked.
"This guy says he wants to talk to you," Kazimir interrupted from where he sat just out of James's view. "Seems chill."
James poked his head out around to see Kazimir, who was relaxed and sitting on the bench on the porch with his girlfriend, Megan, leaning on his shoulder.
"I can just... come back another time," Alan's brother said, wearily staring at them.
"No one else is home yet," James said. "What's this about?"
He slowly nodded, hands in pockets as he hesitantly turned back to James. "You're James, right?"
"Yes," James answered. "And you are?"
"Alistair. I'm Alan's brother." He paused. "That's not related to the visit, though. Do you have a minute?"
James felt a spring of paranoia eating at the back of his brain that he knew was irrational. He had no reason not to trust Alistair - but he had no reason to trust the man either. Still, Alistair had no motive to cause James any ill that James knew of, so...
"Sure," James said, opening the door and stepping back so Alistair could come in.
If there was any trouble, Kazimir was right outside.
Alistair nodded as a thank you and stepped in, hovering near the door. He glanced around the living room, eyes settling on the half-melted couch.
"Nice place," he said with no enthusiasm whatsoever.
"Flattery is not necessary," James said dryly, closing the door behind him. He walked in a bit further, but only to distance them from the door. "So, what are you here for? I assume it's for more than just to meet me, seeing as we've never spoken prior. You must have some news."
Alistair stood still, only moving to lean back against the wall by the door. "I know we don't really know each other, and that's fine. I don't really have news, either." He paused. "Well, kind of. I've been caught up-to-speed about the shit that has been happening around the island. I heard it from staff."
James slowly put his hands in his pockets as his gaze narrowed, stare intensifying.
"Which staff?" James asked.
"Shay and Dante," Alistair answered. "But mostly Dante. They're not allowed to talk to you, for some reason... so, he wanted me to tell you that they've got your back and are on your side. The staff, I mean."
James continued to stare Alistair down, trying to read into his tone, his body language, and if any of this language was coded. But all he could read was that Alistair felt uncomfortable and awkward.
Ah. The glare probably wasn't helping. But that was fine. James wasn't going to relent on this just yet.
"I don't presume Dante speaks on behalf of all the staff," James said. "Otherwise I'm sure many things would not have transpired. So who specifically is he referring to?"
Alistair faltered. "...Well, I've only met four staff members. I don't know. But..." He shifted his weight to his other food. "I can find out, if you really want to know."
"If you can procure a list for me, that'd be appreciated," James said. "If you don't mind being given a task. It would be helpful for me to know who's supposedly 'on my side.'"
"Sure, yeah. I can do that," Alistair said, then paused. "How many sides are there? Two? You versus the DMV?"
James pressed his lips together.
"I'm not sure life is that black-and-white," James said. "But if it helps you to make it that simple, then yes. For now, at least."
Alistair sighed. "And who's on the DMV side? Is it... Tula? Stravos, Alexander?"
"Stravos is a wild card," James said. "He's not on a 'side.' He just needs serious professional help, and they're taking advantage of it."
He took in a deep breath, casting his glare away from Alistair and out to the windows, where the blinds were shut.
"Tula and Alexander have been causing me trouble, at least," James said. "I can only assume it's by the DMV's prodding. It sounds like they've told you a lot, then, if you know about the two of them."
And he didn't like that. He didn't like that everyone knew all the shit he was going through, because that meant everyone was going to look at him differently. Everyone was going to baby him, and be concerned, and... ugh.
He didn't even know Alistair.
"They did," Alistair confirmed. "What did you even do to be so targeted?"
James cast Alistair a flat look.
"Sorry," Alistair quickly apologized. "Just... trying to wrap my head around this. I know I'm not a part of this."
"You are now," James said gravely. "That's the burden of knowing."
"Well, I'd rather know than live in ignorance. Even if it's a burden," Alistair said.
Then they were alike in that way.
"What do you plan on doing with this information," James said. "Now that you know?"
"Uh, well. What can I do?" Alistair sighed. "I think the best thing I can do is just... tell others, I guess. The more informed everyone is, the better."
Right. James couldn't expect Alistair to actually do anything about it. It was unfair to assume he would, or even could. Alistair had his family on the island to worry about, and even spreading information like this would put him on bad terms with the DMV. Lawyers would call it defamation.
"Then you ought to keep pursuing that conviction," James said with a nod. "Far be it from me to stop you."
"...That also brings me to another reason I wanted to see you," Alistair said hesitantly, visibly bracing himself. "This is my fault completely, so I want to begin by saying sorry first. But I talked to Lyall last night, mostly to get info on Alan, but I also didn't know that Lyall didn't know, well, anything. I mentioned your name and the context, and that was when I found out Lyall didn't know anything. I wanted to tell you so you heard it from me."
James felt like time was slowing down.
"What... exactly? Did you tell him?" James asked.
"Just... that you've been getting... targeted," Alistair said slowly, growing stiffer.
Oh.
So. When Alistair said he knew everything. He meant. Everything. He couldn't even utter the word "torture."
And now Lyall knew too. Well that explained Lyall's adamance to rip away the reins and take control. And Lyall had mentioned none of the extra information he knew - because, well, he didn't have to. Wasn't a wendigo bad enough?
James slowly lifted up his hands and rubbed them down his face, landing his pointer fingers pinched on the bridge of his nose. He took in a sharp inhale and let it out in a huff.
"Okay," James said in monotone after a moment. "Thank you for telling me."
"Yeah... no problem," Alistair said more quietly, pausing a moment before adding with an even softer voice, "Sorry again."
"It's forgiven," James said, dropping his hands from his face. "Now, is that all?"
Alistair nodded, peeling away from the door. "Yeah. Sorry. I'll, uh. Get out of your way."
James just nodded, letting Alistair find the door on his own as he waved him away. James should've bothered being polite, but he didn't, and he walked back to the kitchen, hearing the front door close behind him.
When he returned, he took the pot of mac and cheese and grabbed a spoon, eating straight out of it. Because he didn't feel like grabbing a bowl. And no one was home. And he didn't care.
He sat on the couch with the pot in his lap, slowly eating away at the four-box-full macaroni and "cheese" Craft meal for some time. Enough time for the sun to have gone down since he started.
But what did time matter? At least it was time spent in relative peace.
Until the front door opened on its own, anyways.
James heard the rushed pattering of paws as Shrimp ran to the door just in time to meet Shane, who knelt down and scooped him up with a soft smile. Shrimp climbed onto Shane's shoulder as he took off his shoes, looking back at James.
"Hey, James," Shane said, with a faint, quick smile.
"Hey," James said with a small nod.
Shane closed the door behind him, glancing at James over his shoulder.
"Are you alright?" he asked. "As much as you can be, at least?"
James looked down into his mostly-empty macaroni pot.
"Hm. I guess so," he said.
"I guess I should be asking if the macaroni makes it better," Shane said.
"It makes it... something," James said indecisively. And then decided it was better to change the subject.
"What did you do today?" he asked.
"I went over to Alan's cabin to see them as well as the Ashlunds and Alvaros," Shane said, before his eyes widened like he'd made some kind of blunder. "Sorry, I really mean Vik, Kaya, and the Alvaros. Everyone was okay, for the most part."
James didn't really know how Shane might've mis-spoke, but he figured it was best to just let it slide.
"Ah. Right," he said. "Cyrin and Lyall mentioned there was an attack last night. Or rather, this morning. I'm glad to hear everyone's okay."
"I heard," Shane said more softly. "It's good you told them when you did."
James sighed.
Yes, he'd told Cyrin, but evidently he should've told everyone when he had the chance. Not that he could imagine any context where everyone was gathered together except for the dock... and...
Well, that had already been dramatic. Imagine him standing on a box and yelling, causing a panic. Then he'd really look crazy.
Then again, maybe that actually was the sane reaction to all of this. To look crazy.
"Lyall came over earlier and spoke with Cyrin and I. He basically demanded to take lead on this whole... situation," James said.
"What did you tell him?" Shane asked.
"Considering he didn't give me a choice, I'm letting him do what he wants," James said. "His current plan seems to be strengthening our defense. I don't know what else he's conspiring."
A beat.
"But he seemed less inclined towards immediate violence," James said. "So. Probably for the best he's... on it."
Shane nodded slowly, seeming to consider that. "Well, it's good he wants to help."
James didn't really have much else to comment on that. It was good, sure, but also he hadn't developed how else he felt about it.
Helpless? Tired? Something like that, but it took far too much energy to put that into more words, nevermind say it aloud, and he had little mental energy to spare. So instead, he lifted his cheesy spoon and pointed with it at Shane.
"Are you hungry?" he asked after an awkward pause.
"I could eat," Shane admitted.
"We should make food, then," James said. Because he could always eat again.
Just as Shane was nodding in agreement, a loud, frantic note played from somewhere, sounding like an emergency alert. Exchanging a look with James, Shane reached into his pocket for his phone, which James could see vibrating in his hand. He read something aloud from the screen.
"'Emergency alert from Dante Weylin,'" Shane started. "'Public Service Announcement: there is a wendigo on the loose pillaging the island. Please stay safe indoors until security has arrived to maintain safety. If you have any questions, please contact Connie Falco or your local DMV representative. Thank you.'"
James blinked.
That... huh. He wasn't surprised that the staff knew about it, but he was surprised that they were sending out this message - delayed for that matter. It seemed like it coincided with when Connie heard about it, which was probably why his name was mentioned. Connie likely pushed for this.
He had told James that he would handle this. Or... something to that degree. James felt like his memory was becoming less reliable.
"That got sent just now?" James asked.
"Just now," Shane confirmed, frowning at the screen. "Connie must have found out and spoken to Dante. I guess we don't have to tell anyone ourselves now."
"I did tell him about the wendigo," James said quietly. "Last night."
He hadn't expected Connie to make a public service announcement, but. This worked, he supposed. It made it easier.
Shane gave him a long look. "You did?" he asked.
James felt like he'd been playing catch-up all day.
"Yeah," James said. "Uh. When he interfered with my dream and found out about Alexander. He took me out of the nightmare into his 'mind palace.' We talked for a bit. I kind of just... caught him up to speed."
"Ah," Shane said, with an eventual nod. "Would he do that again, do you think? That's twice now that that has been a safe place to talk."
"He said he could do it every night if needed," James said. "But... we should ask him if he could do it for you, as well. Since we've both been chronic insomniacs."
Shane's expression slowly got more blank.
"Maybe," he said evenly, as he started to move towards the fridge.
James watched for a moment, wondering if he'd said something wrong. It wasn't a secret within their cabin that neither of them slept much. They ran into each other in the middle of the night often, either sneaking down to the kitchen or to the bathroom.
Maybe it was just the thought of having Connie help? Or maybe James was missing something entirely. He really wasn't feeling like himself at the moment. Normally he was sharper than this.
"I only mean it as a suggestion," James tried to clarify.
"I know," Shane said, opening up the fridge to stare into its depths. "Just... I don't know. I'm not sure I want that."
James nodded slowly.
"That's okay," he said. All he really wanted Shane to know was that it was an option.
And before an awkward silence could ensue, there was an awkward entrance instead. A bit abruptly, at least to James, the front door opened, and Connie entered with his younger brother following just behind him.
"Good evening," Connie greeted, shutting the door behind him as his brother flashed them all a welcoming smile.
"Connie," Shane said, startled enough to close the fridge without getting anything out. "And Romulus. Good evening."
"Remus is fine," he said with a polite nod. "Evening, gentlemen. It's a pleasure to meet you both."
Shane offered a slight nod in return.
James looked down at his macaroni pot, still holding the cheesy spoon in his hand like a pointer. Then he looked up at the Falcos.
"Hey," James greeted a bit blankly. "Nice to meet you, Remus." Then he looked to Connie.
"We saw you sent out an announcement," James said.
"I did," Connie affirmed, then gestured to Remus. "As you know, this is my younger brother." He then gestured to James and Shane. "Remus, this is James Hawke and Shane Hawking. They have graciously accepted your request to stay with them."
"Oh yes, I'm quite familiar with you two because of the show," Remus said with another polite smile. "Much appreciated."
James wasn't sure how much to unpack "quite familiar," but he really didn't feel like asking what that meant right now.
"Sure," James said. "You have a good brother, willing to tolerate Casper on your behalf."
"Oh, yes. Brother, I bestow my sympathies to you ahead of time," Remus said as he cracked a smirk.
"Not needed," Connie said. "Shane, James. Do you need anything else from me before I leave?"
James hesitated, glancing back at Shane quickly.
"About the announcement," James said slowly. "You neglected to specify who the wendigo is. I know when we discussed it I wasn't as thorough as I could've been, but you should know who to look for."
"Do you have a name and description?" Connie asked.
James nodded, aware if the irony about to come out of his mouth.
"His name is Constantine," James said.
Remus cracked a laugh, elbowing Connie's side, who otherwise did not react. "Ah yes, brother. you're right. The farmer is hilarious!"
"I... am actually being quite serious. The man who is the wendigo goes by the name Constantine. I'm not speaking about your brother," James said. "I'm talking about a man you would've seen on the ship on your way here. About average height, black hair, white around the temples. Thick mustache. Sound familiar?"
"I don't believe I've met him," Connie said, and it was then that James remembered that he left promptly from the docks after Remus arrived.
"I've seen that sod around," Remus cut in with a frown. "Charming, that fellow is. In the same sense that old chaps are when a lovely young woman passes by."
James could've cringed just at the description. Feeling his skin crawl a bit, he mustered a pained smile-turned-grimace.
"Yeah," James said flatly.
"Would you recognize him?" Connie asked straightfacedly to Remus.
"I would," Remus answered proudly. "But he is not staying in the mansion. It pays to pay attention, brother. You'd know if you spent an ounce giving anyone proper thought."
"Is Constantine not a visitor?" Connie asked.
"He wasn't on the official list that was posted," James said.
Connie nodded. "That rules out the cabins and the mansion. Very well. I can make do with this information."
Well, James wasn't at peace with it. But he wasn't "in charge" of this siuation anymore. So apparently he didn't get to care anymore.
Connie turned his attention back between James and Shane, but mostly focused on James. "Considering logistics, I expect security to arrive in a day or two. If you feel unsafe, I urge you to stay in the mansion. It is well-guarded."
It was also where Ingrid was staying. So. Less desirable than Connie knew.
Remus let out a breathy laugh. "Please, as if anything can happen to us here. Not with two royals and a soldier in the household."
James wanted to wince at that. Instead he kept a straight face.
Riiiiiiight.
"I think I'll stay here tonight," James said.
"Me too," Shane said, a little quieter than him.
Connie nodded. "Anything else before I depart?"
James shook his head. Shane did the same a moment later.
"You'll be missed," James said after a beat.
"I am still on the island, James," Connie said evenly. "I'll be back tomorrow for Remus."
James nodded a bit stiffly, now feeling a little awkward for the small display of affection. He knew Connie was just being practical, but James was trying to say something else. He had to wonder if Connie actually caught onto it or not.
"I'll see you then," James said, a little quieter.
"I'll see you," Connie repeated, opening the door to leave and leaving behind James, Shane, and his brother.
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