Home is not just a place, it's a heartbeat waiting to welcome you.
The sterile smell of the hospital hit me as soon as I walked through the automatic doors. It wasn't the kind of place I wanted to be, but Alex was here, so here I was, stepping through the fluorescent-lit hallways toward his room.
Jo was at my side, her small hands carrying a large container of pancakes wrapped in foil. Despite the grim atmosphere of the hospital, there was a comforting warmth in the air as Jo bounced slightly with every step she took, her energy spilling over into the otherwise mundane corridor.
Jo's cheerful chatter continued as she carried the pancakes to Alex's room, but I stayed quiet, watching the walls pass as I walked alongside her. We reached his room, and I stepped aside, allowing Jo to enter first, a soft smile playing on her lips as she made her way toward the bed.
"Hey, Alex," Jo said as she set the pancakes on the small table beside his bed. "I brought you some pancakes. I figured you could use a little bit of sugar."
Alex, propped up in the hospital bed grinning like a madman. "Pancakes, huh?" he muttered.
"You're trying to bribe me with food, Jo? Because, you know, it's working."
I leaned against the doorway, watching them interact. The tension in my chest loosened slightly as Jo began to lay out the pancakes in front of Alex, the syrup dripping down onto the stack in a way that felt almost too normal for a place like this.
"Here," Jo said with a grin, "I even brought extra syrup." She set the bottle down beside the stack.
Alex's grin widened as he reached for the pancakes. "You know me too well."
I let the scene unfold in front of me—Jo's playful teasing and Alex's ease in taking the moment for what it was. It was strange, but comforting. The world outside seemed distant in this small room. For the briefest second, it felt like things were normal, even if only for a moment.
I stepped further into the room, my eyes flickering to Alex.
"You still look like hell," I said, my voice low but with a hint of something else, something like affection buried beneath the bluntness.
Alex snorted, swallowing a bite of his pancake. "I feel like hell," he shot back, but there was no bitterness in his tone. Just the dry humor I was so familiar with.
Jo smirked. "I'd say you look better, but that'd be a lie."
Alex rolled his eyes and leaned back, taking another bite of his pancakes. "I'm just glad you guys showed up," he muttered.
For a while, we sat in comfortable silence, Jo talking about something random, while Alex took his time with the pancakes.
"You wouldn't believe what happened in history class today," Jo said, leaning forward as if she was about to drop the most crucial piece of gossip. "I swear, if Mr. Pighead assigns another group project, I'm going to lose it. We've got this whole thing on ancient civilizations, and do you know who's in my group? Robbie, the guy who still thinks the pyramids were built by aliens! I might just end up doing the whole project myself."
I couldn't help but smirk at her rant. Jo was one of those people who could make the most mundane parts of life sound like an epic tale of survival. I almost admired the enthusiasm, even if it made her sound like she was fighting an ongoing battle with school.
Me? I wasn't listening. Not fully, anyway. Jo's pancakes, stacked high with syrup, were too tempting.
Without a second thought, my hand reached out and swiped one from the pile, a stealthy move, even though it was obvious enough to anyone paying attention. But Jo wasn't really looking, too busy explaining how Robbie had somehow managed to convince half the class that the Mayans had a secret UFO hotline.
"Shay!" Jo caught me mid-bite, her eyes narrowing as she whipped her head toward me, finally noticing what I'd done. "Did you just—did you steal a pancake?!"
I grinned around my mouthful, chewing lazily. "What? I was hungry," I said nonchalantly, reaching for another bite. "You don't mind, right? It's... sharing is caring, right?"
Alex chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Is there any food that's off-limits for you?"
Jo was giving me the most exaggerated, offended look she could muster. "You're the worst! That's it, you're not getting any of my extra syrup now."
"Ah, come on," I teased, holding up my hands in mock surrender. "Don't be like that. I'll be nice next time."
Jo huffed, pretending to be angry, but she wasn't fooling anyone.
Alex just shrugged. "It's fine. I'm too tired to care."
"See?" I gave Jo a triumphant look. "And, well, you can't blame me for enjoying the good stuff, right?"
Jo shook her head, but there was no real annoyance there, just affection for the ridiculousness of the situation. "Fine. You're forgiven—this time. But don't you dare make a habit of it. I'm holding you accountable for every pancake you steal from now on."
Alex snorted, a sound that was so normal, so Alex, it made my chest feel a little lighter. "Good luck with that. Shay's about as accountable as a tornado."
Jo laughed at that, her laughter filling the room, and for a moment, it felt like everything was exactly as it should be. Even in a hospital room, surrounded by the sterile scent of antiseptic and the hum of medical machines, there was still room for jokes, food fights, and simple moments of connection.
It wasn't perfect, but it was ours.
And that, honestly, was enough.
The best thing about today was that Alex was finally discharged from the hospital. I was glad for him, sure, but the wolf... the wolf looked like he'd just hit the jackpot. A grin so wide, you'd think he'd won the lottery or something. You couldn't wipe that smile off his face if you tried.
As for the cat? Well, it wasn't exactly jumping of joy when it saw its owner again. It probably had started to entertain the possibility that it might have finally gotten rid of him, only to be proven wrong in the most dramatic way possible.
When the wolf entered the shared room, the cursed creature shot up from its seat, its eyes narrowing with a mix of hatred and utter disgust. It growled like a trapped animal, inflating itself to nearly three times its usual size as if that would somehow intimidate Alex. It was the most ridiculous thing I'd ever seen, but the cat sure had its pride. Too bad for it, though, that it had underestimated the wolf.
Alex, unfazed, managed to get within a few feet of the angry puffball. Without missing a beat, he reached out and gave the cat's head a quick, affectionate stroke. That was when the chaos erupted. If there had been any quiet in the building before, I'm sure the entire neighborhood was now in on our drama.
The cat dug its claws into Alex's wrists with the precision of a surgeon. It scratched him a couple of times for good measure, leaving a bloody trail behind. Alex whimpered, not so much from the pain in his hands, but from the metaphorical wound in his heart. The cat might have just done its job in scratching his skin, but it was also ripping at something deeper—something more permanent.
After that, the feline from hell bolted, its angry yowls echoing as it stormed out of the room. I almost felt sorry for it, except for the fact that it was about to take down the kitchen. It jumped onto the counter, knocked over a dozen utensils in a flurry of clanging metal, then scrambled to the top of the cupboard like it was climbing Mount Everest. As if that wasn't enough, it squared off with a spider over a corner of the shelf, like a tiny gladiator battling for its right to an ancient, cobwebbed throne.
Alex, hands bloodied and face a picture of rueful defeat, glanced at his wrists with a look that screamed 'I can't believe this is my life.' I couldn't help it—I burst into laughter. "Yeah, well, that's what you get for rescuing and bringing home a cat."
He shot me a glare, but the laugh lines at the corners of his eyes told me he wasn't too bothered by it. He'd been through worse. And as for the cat? Well, it was still fighting its battle with the spider, and I wasn't about to interrupt that.
The wolf must have caught a whiff of my brother's scent lingering in the apartment because, once he'd managed to shake off his little depression over his run-in with the cat, he looked at me with a steady, almost pleading gaze. "Don't leave me alone with that crazy hunter," he said, his tone firm but tinged with something that almost resembled panic.
I nodded, understanding immediately. "Okay," I replied, offering him the kind of reassuring look that, in hindsight, probably wasn't all that reassuring at all. The wolf had his reasons for not wanting to be left alone with my brother—reasons that I didn't need to elaborate on, and ones that I certainly didn't mind avoiding.
Of course, I knew the feeling was mutual. Des didn't have the slightest affection for my favourite wolf either. It was no surprise; my dear brother had a special brand of hatred for anything non-human. I didn't tell Alex that he didn't have to fear for his life from this particular demented hunter anymore, though. If Des had really wanted to kill him that badly, he wouldn't still be breathing.
"I've got something to tell you too," I said, taking a step toward the kitchen. "Do you fancy a cocoa?"
Alex could tell something was off just from that last sentence. I don't usually hand out cocoa for free. He stayed quiet, sitting at the table while I leaned casually against the kitchen counter, watching the microwave spin its magic. The mugs twirled, and I could almost feel the weight of the unspoken conversation that was about to come.
When the microwave beeped, I pulled the mugs out and carefully stirred in three heaping spoonfuls of cocoa powder. The warm steam rose, curling like a soft invitation, as I handed one mug to the wolf. I took the other for myself, settling across from him at the table. The moment felt too calm, too ordinary for the storm I was about to stir.
I hesitated again. Should I really tell Alex about the future diary? It wasn't exactly a light topic. I didn't want him to get overly anxious, but keeping him in the dark didn't seem like a good idea either. After all, we were all in this mess together.
"Alice stayed over a couple of days ago," I began, taking a slow sip of the cocoa, letting the warmth settle in. "But that's not the important part."
Alex furrowed his brow but didn't interrupt, waiting for me to continue.
"In the middle of the night, he wrote an entry in his diary," I said, carefully watching his reaction. "And, well, I was curious. So, I took a peek."
Alex stiffened. "What did he write?" His voice was tight, like he already knew this wasn't going to be good news.
"About the future? Hardly anything. The prediction was interrupted," I said, my fingers tightening around the mug as I tried to steady myself. "But what I found... was a threat."
His eyes went wide. "A threat? Was he possessed?"
I nodded grimly. "Yeah."
"What did it say?" Alex leaned forward, his voice barely a whisper, as though afraid the words would be too much.
I hesitated again before answering. "Blood! Kill! Kill! Get him! — that's what it said."
Alex's face drained of color.
"Ben didn't take it very well, huh?"
"No," I said quietly. "He didn't."
"What did you do with the diary?" Alex asked, clearly trying to steady himself, though I could see his mind racing.
"Des took it," I answered. "He took it to the Crosspherat to see if they could figure out more. See if they know what the hell we're dealing with."
"Someone wants to hurt us?" the wolf's voice cracked slightly with the weight of the question.
"I don't know," I admitted, shaking my head in frustration. "Alice thinks it might have something to do with transcendence."
Alex sat back, processing this. "Who could it be, though?"
"I have no clue," I replied, staring down at my mug, the swirling steam mirroring the confusion in my head. "But we need to find out, fast."
Alex's jaw tightened, and he locked eyes with me. "Whoever it is, we have to be careful. If they can mobilize transcendent forces... it's going to be dangerous."
I nodded, feeling the gravity of his words. "Maybe a mage," I suggested, though it wasn't a thought I liked. "They're notorious for dabbling in transcendent powers."
"Maybe," Alex muttered, still staring at the table, lost in thought.
I took another sip of my cocoa, the warmth doing little to soothe the cold knot of worry settling in my chest.