Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Dear Flapjack,

When Luz gave me this journal before she went back to the human realm, I asked her what I was supposed to use it for. She said, “Oh, you know, to write down your thoughts, memories, emotions. Whatever you feel like.” And I told her that’s dumb because that stuff is all in my head anyway, and what if someone else reads it, and how am I supposed to find time to write about my feelings in the middle of reconstructing the Boiling Isles? She shrugged and said I should hold onto it in case I change my mind.

So you may be wondering, “Hunter, what could’ve changed your mind?” And to be clear, I have not officially changed my mind yet. This still feels actively stupid. But Steve, that one ex-coven guard who’s friends with Lilith and helped the rebellion and wasn't as rude to me as most coven guards, something he said made me think that maybe this might possibly be worth doing.

Last night was Luz's last night before she had to go back home, and so we had a going away party at the Owl House. There were a bunch of people here—the people who live here (Eda, King, Luz, me...and I guess Hooty counts), plus the squad and a few other Hexside people, the (non-evil) former coven heads, and anyone else who had the time to say thanks to the human who saved the entire realm. Which apparently was most people in Bonesborough. I do not think the Owl House was build to hold that many people.

Late into the night, a round of Luz’s human card game nearly ended with Eda and Lilith fighting each other in bird-mode, Raine and Darius made everyone stop to drink some calming tea. I think Raine must’ve done one of their bard magic tricks to the tea, because everyone who was still here got all mushy and emotional. It started with Luz talking about how grateful she is to have a family and a second home here, and that got everybody else being grateful for each other. Lilith cried while thanking Eda for her forgiveness and acceptance back into her life, King cried while talking about having “the best family in the world,” Willow made me cry when she talked about how she found herself and her confidence because of her friends. You get the idea.

Steve said, “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I wouldn’t be where I am without therapy.” Lilith seconded that (I didn’t realize she was in therapy, but I suppose if anyone needs it, it’s her). The two of them started talking about journaling, and Luz, who was sitting next to me, looked at me with her eyebrows raised. And look, I was not planning on saying anything. I still don’t feel comfortable being around so many people, especially the ones who mostly or only knew me as the Golden Guard. But, like I said, I’m pretty sure Raine put something in the tea, so, barely thinking I asked.

“Doesn’t it feel weird, though? Writing to no one?”

I said it way too loud. Everyone went silent and looked at me, probably because it was the first thing I’d said in an hour.

Steve scratched his chin and thought for a second. “It didn’t feel natural at first, no. But I started thinking of it as writing to an old friend, someone I lost a long time ago. I thought about what I would say to them, and that’s what I started with.”

Luz nudged me with her elbow and pointed at her heart. I elbowed her back. She didn’t have to point it out. I already knew what she—and Willow and Gus and Amity were thinking. I was already thinking it myself. I kept thinking about it the rest of the night.

I wasn’t actually gonna do it. Do this, I mean. But with Luz back home with Camila and Vee, and with King sleeping upstairs with Eda, I have this room to myself. I haven’t had a room to myself since I was still living in the castle—or really, not since you flew through my window. I was alone, and I didn't even realize it until I started talking out loud and looked beside me and you... You weren't there. Writing to you would be less pathetic than saying your name into an empty room, so, here I am.

I have to admit. It doesn’t feel as stupid now. 

But, Titan, I hate it when Luz is right.

-Hunter

Chapter Text

Dear Flapjack,

I think the mess at Hexside might actually have gotten worse since we started reconstruction. I’ve been helping Mattholomule (or is it Matt Tholomule? I still don’t know) with the construction side of things, which currently means turning the half-overgrown/half-burnt to a crisp pit beside the school back into a grudgby field. Even with the construction track’s magic, it’s taken a week to clear out debris. The stands and locker-rooms have to be rebuilt entirely thanks to the fight with Kikimora, and there’s been a lot of debate regarding how everything should be decorated. I think we should be focusing more on function than aesthetics, but Matt says we need to consider public opinion because it will “affect morale” in the “future.” I said having a functioning field will build morale because everyone loves flyer derby and having it back would lift spirits. He ignored this.

Gus, Amity, and Willow are all on different assignments. Gus isn’t even at Hexside most days, since he’s been helping his dad crystal-cast news to the rest of the Isles. When Amity isn't helping the abomination track with larger clean up project, she spends most of her time with the kindergartners. She’s pretty much the only person they’ll listen to. And then Willow…Willow has been doing everything. She single-handedly cleared out the landscaping, revitalized the plant track’s gardens, and helped Principal Bump organize the various reconstruction teams and is currently supervising all of them.

She came by the field today. With her being so busy, we didn’t have much time to talk. I asked if she’s doing okay, like actually okay. She told me she likes the responsibilities because they give her something tangible to work on, and that she spends plenty of time resting at home with her dads. I made her promise to talk to me or Gus or anyone if she needs support.

“You don’t have to worry about me, Hunter,” she said. “And I’m not just saying that to avoid my own emotions. I’m not doing this alone, you know?”

Before I could respond, Viney came up to tell Willow about some ghost emergency in the library. She promised to talk to me later, but I didn’t see her for the rest of the day.

Flap, is it bad that I miss being stuck in the human realm? Even though we were trapped without knowing if anyone in the demon realm was okay, even though we didn’t know if we would ever get back home, even though I was constantly looking over my shoulder to see if he was following me, it was the best few months of my life. Maybe we were stuck, but at least we were stuck together. Or maybe I just miss you

I keep thinking about what Amity told me when we were looking for Titan blood, that I just had to let myself meet people who wouldn’t treat me like I’m worthless. After everything I did to them—to Luz and Amity and Willow and Gus—they decided to trust me. Gus knew I was a grimwalker the whole time, but he never treated me any different than he did the others. Luz showed me her palisman egg; she even let me hold it. And Amity, I wasn’t sure how she could ever trust me after what happened at Eclipse Lake, but I think she actually likes me. I mean, she teases me a lot, but in, like, a nice way. A friend way

And Willow is… Well, you know. She’s Captain Willow, the strongest witch I’ve ever met. I didn’t know it was possible to feel so comfortable and so nervous around the same person. I don’t feel like that around the others. She’s just so strong and confident and 

Anyways. We’re supposed to be kicking New Hexside reconstruction into full gear so we can have the grand re-opening when Luz is here for “spring break.” Apparently, she gets an entire week off from school, which seems excessive to me. I mean, she already has a break for all of summer and part of winter. How is she supposed to get anything done if she’s never there?

At least this means I’ll get my roommate back for a week. I should do something special for her. Maybe I can sew something for her. It’s probably not too hard to sew a snake onto a t-shirt. I’ll just need to get a little bit of that shiny fabric from Darius. My sewing skills have improved a lot. Wish you were here to see it.

Hunter

Chapter Text

Dear Flapjack,

The grand re-opening of Hexside is in two days. The place is still a mess, but all of Boscha and Kikimora’s booby-traps have been found and deactivated, most of the graffiti has been driven to the inactive detention cellar, and more than half the classrooms are functional. The grudgby field is…not ready. But I have to admit, it is going to look a lot more impressive than it did before. It’ll inspire a lot of school spirit. Speaking of school spirit, Eda had to come help us get the ghosts to stop exclusively haunting the library (apparently she has experience with “deghostifying” Hexside), and now the ghosts are living (well, not living) in the oracle department. Hexside will never go back to normal, but I think New Hexside will find its own way of doing things.

After we got the ghosts settled, we came back to the Owl House. Willow, Amity, and Gus joined us for dinner and to help set up for Luz’s arrival. It felt so good to hang out with them without the threat of world destruction hanging over our heads. Amity went all out with decorations. It’s also her and Luz’s 6 month anniversary, which seems to be a big deal to her. It seems to be an even bigger deal to Hooty. He called himself "captain of the good ship Lumity." That worm/bird will never stop freaking me out, especially at parties. If I ever see another Hooty pellet again, I’m moving out.

After the others went home, King and I came in here to finish setting up Luz’s side of the room. Eda finally got us an extra mattress, so neither of us have to sleep on the floor this time. I finished the snake shirt (shnirt?) while King rearranged the candles. He thinks the shirt looks great, so I technically have the Titan’s approval. He asked if I wanted to come down and play Hexes and Os with him and Eda, but honestly…I was excited to tell you about everything. I want to write it down. This was the best day I’ve had in a long time. Like, I got to talk to Gus about Cosmic Frontier for the first time in weeks. He told me his idea for an “alternate universe” fanfiction where the characters live in the Demon Realm. I told him that he needs to write it and that I will read every single word. I can’t wait. Since I’ve read through the complete collection (twice) and we don’t have the DVDs, it’s the closest thing to new Cosmic Frontier content I’m getting.

Willow and I were blowing up balloons when she mentioned how long my hair has gotten. It's long enough that I've started tying it back most of the time.

“Oh, yeah. I haven’t really had time to cut it.” I felt my face getting hot. The truth is that, even if I did have time to cut it, I’d rather not deal with it. And it’s easy not to think about it when I just avoid looking at it. Out of sight, out of mind, or whatever.  “We’ve all been busy and, I mean, you saw what it looked like when I tried to do it myself.”

She reached out and twisted my short ponytail around her finger, pulling her hand away a second later. “I could help you cut it, if you want.”

“Does it look bad?” I reached for my ponytail and wished my hair was long enough to cover up how much I was blushing.

Willow just giggled. “No, it’s really cute. You look…I think long hair suits you.”

“Oh, yeah?” 

“Yeah. I just wasn’t sure if you preferred it short, like how it was before…” She didn't finish that sentence. She didn't need to.

“Oh, yeah.” I looked away from her. “I guess I haven’t really thought about it.” 

“Well, however you decide, I know you’ll look great.” 

She grabbed my hand and squeezed it, and then she let go and walked away before I could respond. I don’t know if I could’ve responded if I had the chance. I still don’t know what I would’ve said. Maybe “You look great too, Willow,” but she already knows she looks great, and I’m sure she knows that I think that. How could I not?

Amity hung around for a while after Willow and Gus left to get home before curfew. She and I were having tea after finishing the last of our decorating. “I don’t exactly have a curfew anymore,” she told me. “I think my dad may be…over correcting in the rules department.”

“Is that a bad thing?” I asked.

“I’m not really sure. I don’t think so.” She dragged her teabag around in the mug. “I mean, it’s definitely better than Mom’s reign of terror, but it’s pretty clear he doesn’t know what he’s doing without her.”

I haven't had many interactions with Odalia Blight, but I've had enough to know she's a real piece of work. The way she spoke to Amity felt too familiar, familiar enough to raise a certain question in my mind. If there was ever an appropriate moment to ask, it was now. “Did Odalia…did she ever, you know, hurt you or the twins?

She didn’t answer right away. I was opening my mouth to apologize for asking when she said, “Yeah, sometimes. Usually she just used the threat of violence to keep us in line, but sometimes she followed through. And she made me get my ass beaten by their Abomatons to impress investors.” She glanced at me, her eyes looking more tired than anything. “Why do you ask?”

“I guess, well, I figured you might be the only other person in our friend group that, you know, gets it.”

“You figured me out the day we met, Hunter.” She smirked. “You may have been comically wrong about Luz, but you were right about me.”

“You’re a lot different now,” I said.

Amity Blight chuckled at me. “I’m different? Have you seen you ?”

She had a point. I know my appearance has changed, but I don’t think that’s what she was talking about. Who I was at Eclipse Lake would probably be unrecognizable from the outside. But I remember it. I remember what it felt like to be so desperate to prove myself that I couldn’t see what was right in front of me. I’ve been okay lately, but I sometimes worry that that part of me will come back. And when it does, I won’t have you to pull me out.

As I took a sip of tea, Amity spoke up again. “Speaking of change, have you asked Willow out yet?”

I spit the tea back into my mug. “What? I haven’t—why would you—did she—”

Amity laughed at me. “Are you serious? Do you really not see it?”

“See what ?”

“I saw her twirling your hair earlier,” Amity said.

“We were talking about my hair so—”

“And I saw her grab your hand and wink at you.”

“She winked? What are you saying? You think that I—that she—”

“Oh titan, was I this oblivious back then?” She put her face in her hand. “I’m just saying, you don’t blush that much around your other friends. And neither does Willow.”

I shut my mouth. I was embarrassed enough as it was. Amity didn’t say anything else about it. We sipped our tea in silence for a couple of minutes

When she was leaving, after she said goodbye to the others in the house, Amity turned to me. I was afraid she would say something about Willow in front of Eda, King, and, worst of all, Hooty. But she put her hand on my shoulder and, too soft for the others to hear, said, “If you ever want to talk about family stuff, you can always talk to me.” Then she hugged me and left with a “see you guys tomorrow!”

Do you think she’s right, Flap? Am I really that different? And also would Willow actually want to go out with me?

Whatever. I’ll figure it out later. I should go to sleep before the sun starts rising.

Hunter

Chapter Text

Dear Flapjack,

can’t sleep. had a dream. you know the one.

it’s been so long since he did it. i know that he’s dead. how long will it hurt?

i just want it to stop. i thought it stopped. i have to make it stop.

maybe i do deserve it. only one way to make it stop. i said i wouldn’t. i promised.

why did it come back?

why won’t it stop

Hunter

Chapter Text

Dear Flapjack,

The re-opening of Hexside was a success! We didn’t tell Luz it would be ready when she would be here, and she was so excited when we took her blindfold off to reveal the front doors of New Hexside School of Magic and Demonics. Gus cast an illusion so it looked like she was wearing her multi-track uniform, and we showed her as much as we could before the first classes of the day. 

I forgot how many students go here. The rebuild crew already felt pretty significant, but it feels like there are more students now than there were before the Day of Unity. I had my first real potions class. It was a basic sleeping potion, but it felt really good to work with a new kind of magic, one that even I can do. Maybe I could ask Eda to show me more. I used to read about more wild kinds of potion making, and if anyone knows about that it’s Eda the Owl Lady. 

I also had Geology: Magic Rocks and Mundane Crystals, which the teacher spent listing different kinds of rocks. Most other students seemed bored, because who doesn’t know the difference between amethyst and bat-fang quartz, but I was writing down as many as I could. At least, I was until I heard someone whisper, “Wasn’t he the Golden Guard?” After that, it was a lot harder to focus. I heard another mention of the Golden Guard when I was walking to meet my friends for lunch. I really thought people would forget about that. I told the others about it while we were eating lunch. 

“Well, you do have a very distinct face,” Gus said. Luz elbowed him. “What? It’s true!” He said in response. Then he grimaced. “Oh, I don’t mean your, you know. Just like, your nose and stuff.”

Luz elbowed him harder. I didn’t respond.

“I’m sure they’ll stop talking about it soon,” Willow said. “Once they get to know Hunter they’ll realize the Golden Guard is long gone.”

“Yeah!” Luz said. “Soon you’ll just be Hunter, star flyer derby player.”

“And top potions track student!” Amity added.

“And–!” Luz paused like she hadn’t thought through the end of her sentence. “And Hunter, brother of Luz the human!”

I looked up at her. “Brother?” 

“That’s what I said.” Luz moved to my side of the table and put her arm around my shoulders. “You’re my brother and you’re stuck with me.”

Even though it surprised me, Luz’s declaration did feel right . My context for what family means used to be based in, well, you know. It means something else to me now. Something good. Maybe something safe, even.

When we all got the Owl House that evening, I stopped Luz before we walked inside.

“Do you mean what you said earlier?” I asked.

Luz stuck her hands in her pockets. “Believe it or not, yes. I don’t usually say things I don’t mean.”

“I could name three different times you’ve lied—”

“Okay, okay, fair enough.” She fake-punched my arm. “But I don’t lie about shit like this, and I’ve never lied to you.”

“Yeah, but you did slap me in the face when I was unconscious.”

“And you licked my hand!” 

I stuck my tongue out at her, and she stuck her middle finger up at me. And then we laughed, and I believed her. I never expected to find a family outside my uncle, let alone with the human who once rocketed me off my own ship. But here we are.

“I’ve really missed you in the human realm,” Luz said after it got quiet. “By the way, Mama told me to tell you she says, Hola hijo! ¿Cómo estás? ”

I think that’s when I started crying. Luz pulled me into a hug. I’m still not super used to hugs. I think I might be bad at them. But I did my best to hug her back. To hug my sister back.

By the way, Luz told me to tell you she says hi. She asked what I’m writing and I actually told her. She got that over-excited look on her face the way she does whenever Eda talks about her “backstory.” Okay, I have to go. It's time for movie night.

Hunter

Chapter Text

Dear Flapjack,

I take back what I said about a week-long break being excessive. Luz went home this morning after what did not feel like an entire week. She’s going to start visiting on the weekends more, but she won’t always stay here, and there’s still a lot of reconstruction she’s helping with.

At least I have school to focus on, and Eda said she can teach me more about wild magic. Neither of us can cast spells, but she had a lot of hands-on experience before she lost her magic. I’ve read a lot about it in books, but there was a lot of missing information, probably because any books with that information were destroyed by the emperor. She also mentioned that she used to carve palismen with her dad. I almost told her that I want to learn how to carve palismen someday. I’m not sure I’m ready to talk about that, yet.

Going to school and being a normal student is great. Especially when I actually feel normal. Which I did not when some kid I’ve never talked to before came up to me and asked, “Why does your face look like that?” To which I said, “Who the fuck are you?”

They ran off. Gus said I shouldn’t cuss at the younger students. I said, “I won’t cuss out the 11-year-olds if the 11-year-olds don’t ask me stupid questions.” I guess I’m just tired of hearing people whisper about me behind my back like I can’t hear them. At least I can respond when they say it to my visually distinct face.

Willow has been talking about getting the Emerald Entrails back together. I should be excited. Playing flyer derby was first fun thing I ever did. But I don’t know if I can do it without you. I know I could probably borrow someone else’s palisman. It just feels wrong. Like I’m…replacing you, or something. 

Darius asked me about you the other day. I keep forgetting people don’t know what happened. Then they ask me and I don’t know how to respond. What am I supposed to say? “Oh, yeah, my palisman died because I got possessed and almost killed him and then also drowned myself so I couldn’t hurt anyone else and then he gave his life to me and now I have to live and I have to do it without him.”

I just looked at Darius and hoped my facial expression was expressive enough. He patted my shoulder and said he was sorry, which is maybe the least snarky thing he’s ever said to me. I think he might’ve wanted to say more, but he didn’t.

The same night, I had an interesting conversation with Raine. 

Raine comes over to the Owl House pretty often, but they’re usually just here to see Eda, and I’m usually at Hexside anyway. On Thursday, they asked me to come outside with them. I figured we would go out the front door, but I followed them upstairs and through Eda’s room to get the roof. The sky was clear, the air a little cold. It was a nice contrast to the warmth of the crowd downstairs.

“How are you doing, Hunter?” Raine asked in a way that made me want to tell them the truth.

“I…I’m not sure,” I said. “There’s been a lot to adjust to, and everything is moving so fast, and I feel like I’m falling and like I’m going to hit the ground but I don’t know when so I’m just waiting for it to happen.”

“You must have so much on your mind,” Raine said. “Have you given yourself any time to process it?”

I told them that I’ve been keeping a journal, but I’ve mostly written about the stuff going on right now. “I don’t see the point in rehashing all the shit that happened. I know what happened. What’s talking or writing about it supposed to do?”

They shrugged. “I’m not sure what it’s supposed to do. But when I talk to Eda about what we went through, it doesn’t feel as heavy in my mind.”

I thought about when I talked to Amity about her parents. It was a brief conversation, but I guess I did feel a little lighter after. My mind is always racing, trying to keep up with what’s going on or with my emotions. Talking to Amity that night, or to Luz on the first day of school, it felt like my mind slowed down. Not by much, but it was something.

“Anyway, Hunter,” Raine said. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to say this, but back at the castle…I saw you.”

“Yeah, I was there like, all the time.” 

“What I mean is, I could tell something was wrong.”

“Oh.” A cold breeze hit the back of my neck.

“We wanted to do something to help you. But we thought trying might only make things worse for you.” They looked down at their hands—no, not their hands. Their bard sigil. “I don’t know everything you went through, but there is one thing we have in common.” They turned their face to me. In the moonlight, the scars on their face looked like tear streaks. I knew what they were talking about. And I didn’t want to talk about it.

Seeing their scars, it was like they were a reflection of my own. And I avoid looking at my own reflection. Looking at Raine, seeing their face in a way I normally wouldn’t, and knowing exactly how it felt to get those scars…it made me remember. I don’t want to remember. 

They turned away. I could feel every mark on my body.

“I don’t mean to upset you,” Raine said. “But I just want to warn you that avoiding any mention or thought of bad things that have happened won’t keep you from feeling it all eventually.”

I huffed and looked away. When we went back inside, I stayed upstairs in Luz’s room and read Cosmic Frontier until I fell asleep.

Maybe Raine is right. Maybe Luz and Steve and Amity and even Lilith are right about talking or writing through the past. I just can’t do it yet. I don’t even want to think about it. I relive most of it in my dreams anyway. Talking about it won’t make it go away. My nightmares have been worse since I talked to Raine. Which is why I’m still awake an hour after midnight, and why my sewing skills are improving even more. I can only review rock charts so much before it puts me to sleep, the thing I’m trying to avoid. With sewing, there's bound to be the occasional needle prick to keep me awake.

I think I need better distractions.

Hunter

Chapter Text

Dear Flapjack,

Everything is fine. Everything is good, actually. I’m making top marks in school, and New Hexside is almost fully functional now. Luz visits most weekends, which is great. Sure, every time she leaves again, our room feels empty, like a night sky without stars, but it’s great when she’s here. Lilith brought me a ton of books about history and wild magic, so I’ve been reading those when I’m up here by myself. Did you know the savage ages were actually fine and normal and not any more dangerous than the Boiling Isles today? Did you know covens used to be small groups of witches who used their combined magic to do what one couldn’t do on their own? That they performed rituals that combined healing, plant, and potions magic to save entire villages from diseases? It’s almost like wild witches were just witches who used whatever magic came to them and then helped each other to do stronger magic. It’s almost like someone killed most of them and hid their written words to prevent anyone from knowing the truth.

But you did know all that. You were there, weren’t you? I mean, you are wild magic. And you were alive. Like how all palismen are alive. All those palismen. I handed them to him.

My hair has been driving me a little bit crazy, so I finally asked Willow to it. It had gotten so long that I kept getting the urge to shave it all off, and regardless of what Willow said a few weeks ago, I do not think I would look good bald. So, she came over after school one day to help me with it. I don't think I could trust anyone else to touch me for as long as it takes to cut hair. I decided not to cut it as short as I did in the human realm, and I can still tie it back if I want. Maybe I should've gone shorter. My hair grows so fast it wouldn't matter anyway.

No, by the way, I haven’t asked Willow out. I like being her friend, and I don’t want to screw that up by trying something that might crash and burn. Besides, we’re both so busy with Hexside responsibilities. The trimester is almost over, so there’s a lot of studying for finals and planning for the renovations we’ll do during the break. Two weeks may seem like a long break, but we have shit ton of work to do. The grudgby field is basically done, which means we’ll probably start sports up in the next trimester. Willow is in full training mode. I wouldn’t want to distract her.

I felt like I was falling until I met you. Now you’re gone. There’s no one to catch me.

Earlier today, Eda told me her mother is coming over tonight. Great! I’ll hide in my room and sew more patches onto my jacket. 

You know what, maybe I should get out of the house. I’m always here or at Hexside. Maybe I’ll go see what Gus is up to. Yeah, I’ll go see Gus. Okay byeeee!

Hunter

Chapter Text

Dear Flapjack, 

I did not go see Gus last night.

I guess Raine was right about one thing: avoidance doesn’t keep whatever you’re hiding from away from you forever. When I walked downstairs, the three Clawthornes were sitting at one end of the kitchen table, all looking at something I couldn’t fully see. I had my hand on the front door when Eda called my name.

“Hey, Hunter, we need you to look at this!” She said, way louder than she needed to. Lilith elbowed Eda in the side.

“We don’t mean to keep you from…” Lilith looked me up and down. “Wherever it is you’re going dressed like that. I just thought you might recognize this symbol.”

I moved over to the table and definitely recognized what it was they were looking at.

“That’s a rebus.” I said. “It looks exactly like the one we found in Gravesfield.”

“What is Gravesfield?” Gwendolyn asked. “And does it have any relation to this symbol?” She unrolled the scroll and pointed to the insignia in the top corner. I tensed at the sight of it.

“Oh. That’s the Golden Guard insignia.” I said flatly. “And it’s also the town logo of Gravesfield, Connecticut.”

“That’s what I—” Lilith started, but she interrupted herself. “What do you mean, ‘town logo?’”

“It’s on like, all the signs in Luz’s hometown.” I asked her if she knew anything about it, but she’d never paid attention to it. I did not mention that it matched the Golden Guard insignia. “Also, this looks exactly like the rebus we found there.” I sat down at the table to get a closer look. “Where did you find this?”

“Well, Mother and I have been—”

“We’ve been going through some family heirlooms,” Gwendolyn interrupted. “And I think this may lead us to something quite precious.”

I looked down the rebus. The Golden Guard/Gravesfield symbol was in the top left corner. In the right corner was an almost faded owl or hawk symbol. I turned it horizontal. There was a house on the far left, an archway with a gate in the middle, and some kind of rock on the right. I squinted at the pictograms. There was a star drawn with two dots behind it, a long stick with a string tied to either end, a mace, and a drawing of a ribcage.

“Gwen wants us to find whatever this thing is a map for,” Eda said, and then she leaned closer to me and fake whispered, “As if the Clawthornes ever had valuables worth burying.”

“Now, Edalyn, there very well could…”

As soon as I heard Edalyn, I went into some kind of shock. The combination of seeing the Golden Guard insignia, being reminded of the last time I followed a rebus, and the realization that Evelyn was probably a Clawthorne made me nauseous. Eda and Lilith and Gwen were still talking but I couldn’t hear them.

“I can help you find it,” I said. The sisters and their mother went quiet and looked at me.

“You really don’t have to do that,” Lilith said. “I’m sure Eda and I can handle this on our own. Right, Edalyn?”

I looked at Eda, and she looked back at me. She glanced at the rebus and then back at me. “Actually, Lily, I think he may have an interesting perspective on this.”

Lilith frowned at me. And, look, I definitely didn’t volunteer for this so I could spend time with Lilith Clawthorne of all people. I’m doing this to find answers about myself. Not even Eda knows that I’m, well, what I am. She and Lilith know I have some relationship to Belos and therefore Philip Wittebane, but I made Luz promise not to tell them everything, and I don’t think they know much about Caleb at all. 

So, tomorrow I’m going with Eda and Lilith to stay at the Clawthorne house for the weekend. When I told the others, they got confused. I think they’re worried about me. Well, they said they’re worried. Willow thinks I’ve been using school and reconstruction and now treasure hunting to avoid processing my “trauma,” which is ridiculous. I had an entire conversation about it with Raine. And I talked to Luz about it. This did not convince my friends. Amity offered to come with us and said that Luz would probably come too if we asked. This is almost definitely true, but Eda and I already agreed not to tell Luz until after we figure out what the rebus is leading us to. It’s not that we want to hide it from her, it’s that Luz is very … enthusiastic about puzzle solving. Although, the last time Luz was left out of rebus solving, it didn’t end super well. 

I’m going to finish making preparations. We’ll need to be prepared for whatever we’ll find in those woods. Malicious monster sightings have been substantial since the upheaval, and literally none of us have our own magic. I’ve already helped Eda make a bunch of potions, but it never hurts to be overprepared. Better overprepared than underprepared is what I always say! At least, I’m pretty sure I’ve said that before. At some point. Probably. Also: We’ll need snacks. Specifically, snacks that are not hexmix. I’ll see if King wants to help. And I’ve heard Hooty is “damn good” at baking. I am choosing not to ponder what his baking methods might be. I prefer not to ponder Hooty at all.

Hunter

Chapter Text

Clawthorne History Research: Field Notes: Day 1/3

Dear Flapjack,

I met up with Lilith and Eda Clawthorne outside New Hexside School of Magic and Demonics at approximately 15:45. It took us no more than 1 hour by palisman staff to reach the home of Gwendolyn and Dell Clawthorne. Upon arrival, I was informed that arrangements had been made for me to sleep on a very nice cot downstairs. They apologized for not having a spare room for privacy, and I told them it was fine since I was used to having little to no privacy while on missions with the Emperor’s Coven. I immediately regretted bringing up the Emperor’s Coven. Dell and Gwendolyn exchanged a look, possibly of concern, and changed the subject to ask what we wanted to have for dinner.

Lilith and I were colleagues in the coven. She, like all the coven heads, hated my guts. What was it she called me when she thought I couldn't hear? "Golden Brat?" "The Emperor's Special Little Soldier?" She was, of course, envious of my proximity to the Emperor, though she never reached Kikimora levels of envy. She would’ve done a much better job killing me than Kikimora. Not that I was ever scared of her. When she was the Emperor’s right hand, she was desperate for approval, always following orders, and always looking down on everyone around her.

Ha. Sounds like someone else I know.

She’s a self-assured history nerd now, working on creating extensive archives of the history of the Boiling Isles and the Demon Realm. A lot of documentation was destroyed or lost during Belos’ rule, more than either of us realized. Most of that was before our time. And even though Belos was only emperor for 50 years, he was working up to it for centuries, meaning he had plenty of time to get rid of any writing that didn’t benefit his cause. It’s actually crazy that I was able to find any books about wild magic at all. I guess he thought locking them in the castle would keep curious eyes away. He was not pleased when he found out I’d been reading them.

After dinner, she asked to speak with me outside. I assumed it would be a question about the rebus, since that is the entire reason we’re here. Instead, when we stepped out the front door, Lilith apologized to me.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you for quite some time, but there never seemed to be a moment of peace,” she said. “I want to apologize for how I treated you when we were in the Emperor’s Coven. I was so focused on getting his approval that I saw you as a threat when we should’ve been allies.”

I said, “Oh.” I didn’t know what to else to say.

“You were a just a kid and I was embarrassingly jealous of your relationship with the emperor. If I had paid more attention…”

I shrugged. “You weren’t the only one.” None of the head witches respected me. Even when Darius decided he was fine with me, there wasn’t much he could do.  Raine was too deep under cover to risk blowing it on pitying the Emperor’s right hand man. 

“That isn’t an excuse.” Lilith moved her hand to touch my shoulder and I flinched away. I didn’t mean to. Old habits die harder than I do, apparently.

“Sorry.” I said. “It’s fine, really. And Luz told me you’re pretty cool now, so I guess I can give you a chance.”

That made her smile. I never saw her smile in the coven. Never saw myself smile either. I’d rather forget everything that happened back there, and it’s easier to tell myself that the red-haired witch who Luz called “Cool Aunt Lilith” is an entire different person than the raven-haired head witch I used to know. I wonder when Darius is going to pull me aside to apologize for not doing more to help me. It’s not like any of them could have helped me. Besides, I didn’t need help. I just needed to get out, and I did that on my own. 

After Lilith and I went inside, we spent the rest of the night discussing the plan for tomorrow. Since we only have two days here, we’ll be heading out at sunrise. They believe the gateway drawn on the rebus isn’t far from the house. The rebus seems to indicate that the gateway is in between the house and whatever it is we’re looking for.

I’m supposed to be asleep right now. I should be well-rested for the search. But to be honest, something about this house is giving me the creeps. It’s oddly quiet, quieter than the Owl House, yet I feel like I’m being watched. All the Clawthornes are in their own rooms, doors shut. Maybe it would have been nice to have more privacy.

I suppose I’ll attempt sleeping. I’m not particularly optimistic about how being in a new place will affect my dreams. If they’re especially bad, I may not wake up any more rested than if I don’t sleep at all.

Hunter

Chapter Text

Clawthorne History Research: Field Notes: Day 2/3

Dear Flapjack,

I managed to sleep for two hours. I had dreams, but I awoke without clear memory of them. I spent the hours I was awake before sunrise looking at the details on the rebus. The six-point star was especially confusing to me. There are two dots in the box with the star, indicating that it may be a part of some constellation. Everything I know about astronomy has come from Cosmic Frontier , which I must admit has no probable relevance to Demon Realm star patterns.

Lilith and Eda came downstairs at the same time. Lilith was already dressed in hiking-appropriate attire and looked fully awake. Eda was wearing leggings and her “bad girl coven” t-shirt, and she looked as tired as I felt.

“I’ve been looking at the symbols—”

Eda put her hand up. “No talky before sun,” she mumbled. Lilith looked at me apologetically.

“Edalyn isn’t exactly a morning witch,” she said as she handed a bottle of their yellow elixir to Eda. “You’ve got feathers, dear sister.”

Eda rolled her eyes but took the elixir, grimacing as she swallowed it. Feathers I hadn’t noticed on her neck receded. The whole owl beast/harpy thing used to freak me out, but it’s been easier to get used to than, for instance, Hooty’s bath days.

Lilith cooked a few griffin egg omelets with fairy dust sprinkled on top for spice. I could only stomach half of mine. After we ate, she made Eda change into more practical clothes. Eda muttered something about t-shirts being perfectly practical as she headed upstairs. After we had the table cleared, I pulled the rebus back out. I asked Lilith if she recognized the constellation, but she said there weren’t enough points to discern the exact placement.

Once Eda came back down, we headed off to the gate. It was barely light outside, and when I saw the archway I realized I’d been there before.

“This is where the portal from the human realm was,” I said when we landed.

“Yeah—Wait, how did you know that?” Eda raised an eyebrow. “Not even Luz knows this is where I found the door.”

“The door? No, I mean the one we found while we were trapped in the human realm. The one the rebus lead us to.” It took me a second to fully process what she’d said. “Wait, you found the portal door here?” The one I spent months helping the Emperor rebuild?  

“It’s a long story, but yeah.” She stepped towards the gateway. “This is in worse shape than I remember.”

“Well, it’s our only definite landmark.” Lilith adjusted her glasses and held the rebus in front of her. “Maybe the rebus was meant to be a map to the portal door.”

“I don’t know how these symbols would sound out ‘portal door.’” I said as I looked over her shoulder. Eda stood on her other side. 

Eda pointed at the star drawing. “You two were talking constellations earlier, but do you see how it’s drawn near the ground?”

Lilith slapped her own forehead. “Of course! It’s the evening star!”

“Exactly. Then there’s the violin bow and a mace.”

That’s when it came together in my mind. “Evening and violin,” I said. “Evelyn.”

Eda and Lilith both turned and looked at me.

“Evelyn, plus the club. Evelyn and Caleb.”

The Clawthorne sisters looked confused.

“Did…Luz not tell you about them?”

“About who?” They said at the same time.

Shit. I had no idea how to explain it. “Uh, Caleb Wittebane? He was Bel—I mean Philip’s brother.”

“Philip…Wittebane?” Lilith looked a little horrified. “Philip Wittebane’s brother? ”

“Did Luz tell you guys anything?” I ran my fingers through my hair. “Ah, Titan. How the– Okay. So, basically, 400 years ago Philip Wittebane murdered his brother Caleb because he fell in love with a witch named Evelyn who I’m pretty sure was a Clawthorne.” I forced a smile because I did not know how else to act about this.

“Damn, Luz did not mention any of that in her Emperor’s mindscape recap,” Eda said. “Lily, do you know anything about this?”

Lilith pursed her lips and furrowed her eyebrows. “It would explain why Mother had knowledge of Philip Wittebane. And if the portal you found was the same one he used to get to the Demon Realm, and you found it less than a mile from our house…” She trailed off, clearly deep in thought.

“Kid, why didn’t you mention this before?” Eda asked me.

“Well, you know, I wasn’t sure if you guys actually had any connection to Evelyn, and I sorta figured you already heard about this stuff from Luz, and, um, yeah. I don’t know.”

“Wait a second,” Lilith said. “If Emperor Belos was your uncle, and if Evelyn had a child with Caleb, does that mean—”

“You’re a Clawthorne? ” Eda’s eyes widened. “Wait, wouldn’t that also mean Belos was our great-great-great-whatever uncle too?”

Lilith visibly recoiled. “I do not want to think about that.”

I didn’t correct them on the Belos being my uncle thing. If they still believe it, I’m not going to be the one to tell them the full truth. “Maybe we should start looking for this weird-looking rock.” I grabbed the rebus from Lilith, who was too gobsmacked to react. “It might lead us to more answers.”

“I’m not sure I want more answers.” Lilith looked nauseous.

Eda put her handless arm around Lilith’s shoulders. “C’mon, bad girl historian. This could be an important historical discovery.” She laughed, snorting. “Or at least some juicy family drama.”

“You’re right, Edalyn.” The older sister inhaled deeply and stood up straight. “I must put my personal feelings aside for the sake of history," she said, a little over the top if you're asking me.

“Attagirl,” Eda said. “Let’s find this stupid rock.”

We spent the next 2 or 3 hours walking east in search of the landmark, carefully inspecting every rock and boulder. The one drawn on the rebus was distinct enough, but there was no way to tell how big it was supposed to be. Eda and Lilith argued about whether the ribcage pictogram meant we would find a treasure chest or literal bones. When we sat down for lunch, I couldn’t get more than a couple of bites down. Maybe it’s the lack of sleep, maybe it’s the hours of wandering in the humid woods, or maybe it’s the idea of finding anything related to Caleb Wittebane—whatever is causing it, I feel sick. 

Was Belos telling the truth when he said I looked the most like Caleb? Did Evelyn hide remnants of Caleb’s existence to protect her family? What could be worth the risk to keep but keep buried? 

Whether we find gold or bones or something worse, I get the sense we may find answers I don’t want to know.

Hunter

Chapter Text

Dear Flapjack,

It wasn’t treasure or bodies.

It was locked.

We found the rock not far from where we stopped for lunch. Lilith saw it first. She called us over so we could all confirm that the head-sized rock matched the one drawn on the rebus. Eda and I agreed, and Lilith pulled out a spade and started digging. The wooden chest was about half a meter deep and small enough to be easily carried. Around the lock was an intricate carving of two hands reaching for each other.

Lilith picked it up with both hands. She tried to undo the latch, but the lock was secure. “Maybe the key is buried somewhere nearby?” She said.

“Why would they put a lock on a chest and then leave the key right next to it?” Eda said. “We should break it open.”

“We can’t just break it! We don’t know if…”

They argued back and forth. I zoned out, staring at the chest. My skin burned. When Lilith set the chest down, I picked it up. I examined every side of it and found an inscription on the bottom.

Here lies no body but the love that was shared
'tween one who was taken, and one left past repair.
If thou should break lock and come uninvited,
t hat kept safe inside will soon be ignited.

“Is this…a spell?” I said. The older witches went silent, looking at me expectantly. I turned the chest over to show them. 

“It looks like a curse.” Lilith leaned in closer. “If we break the lock, everything inside will burn.”

"Witches." Eda said. “We’re always making shit complicated.”

If this chest did belong to Caleb and Evelyn, the key is probably hidden somewhere that mattered to them. If it’s not in the same place as the chest, it’s probably somewhere else that was important to them.

“Maybe it’s at that old gate.”  I said. “It’s the only other thing on the rebus.”

“Of course!” Lilith beamed. “It’s not just a landmark; it’s another hiding place.”

Since we didn’t have to examine every single rock in the forest anymore, we flew back with Eda and Lilith’s palismen. It was almost dark by the time we reached the old gate. Since none of us have our own magic and glyphs are useless now, we used the flashlight Luz decorated with kitten stickers to search the area. The rebus gave no further clues about the key’s location, but I thought maybe the inscription on the chest could have some clue hidden in its words. I squinted at the box in the dark while the Clawthorne sisters looked under every loose stone in throwing distance. 

“‘Tween one who was taken, one left past repair…”   I murmured the words out loud. I figured that line was referring to Caleb, whose life was taken by Philip, and Evelyn, who presumably spent the rest of her life heartbroken. But I think it might have a double meaning. The only issue is the entire gateway is “past repair,” which wouldn’t have been the case when Evelyn was alive. If the key was hidden somewhere inside the walls, it might’ve crumbled away with the stones or been dislodged and carried away by one of those treasure-hoarding fire worms.

The three of us searched both the gateway itself and the surrounding area for any signs of something that might seem out of place, but we couldn’t find anything but rusted metal bars and rubble. I’m not sure how long we spent looking, but we probably would’ve stayed out all night if Gwendolyn hadn’t flown out looking for us to make sure we hadn’t died or anything. We came back to the house with answers, except all those answers are locked in a box that will combust if we try to open it without the key.

When we got back, we showed the chest to Gwendolyn and Dell. Dell looked over each side, tracing the carvings with his shaking hands. He says he hasn’t seen wood like this before, and that it might be from the human realm. Too bad Luz and Camila aren’t here, though I don’t think either of them have extensive knowledge of types of wood. It’d be nice if they were here anyway, I guess.

I bet you’d know where the key is, Flapjack. Like how you knew to say Caleb’s name to me. Like how you knew about the rebus in the shack. I bet you were there when the chest was carved and when Evelyn hid it and made the rebus. I bet if you could see us right now, you’d get that exasperated look on your face because the key is obviously… wherever it is.

I’m not sure if I want to see what’s in the chest, but I’m gonna go crazy if we don’t find that key. I keep going over that one line from the inscription in my head. It might not even be a clue. All I know for sure is that I’m not going to get any sleep tonight. It’s me and my, as Eda puts it, “back-breaking eyebags” against the world. I’ll try, though. Maybe I’ll have a dream that reveals exactly where the key is and I won’t have to overthink this damn poem anymore.

Updates to follow,

Hunter

Chapter Text

Clawthorne History Research: Field Notes: Day 3/3

Dear Flapjack,

I’d barely fallen asleep when Dell Clawthorne accidentally woke me up.

I spent several hours on the couch squinting at the rebus, holding it up to the light, and looking at it from every possible angle. I re-read the inscription on the chest until I had it memorized. At some point, I dozed off, only to wake up to Dell standing over me, the darkness obscuring his face. I scrambled away from him and ended up falling on the floor. I think I may have screamed a little too. Dell apologized and assured me it was just him and that he didn’t mean to scare me.

“No, I’m sorry, sir.” I said, trying to catch my breath. He held his hand out to help me up. I hesitated to touch him, but then I saw his yellow bird palisman sitting on his shoulder, looking at me with one eye, and I reached out. Dell clasped my arm and pulled me to my feet.

“I was just about to step outside for some fresh air. Would you care to join me?”

Knowing I wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep, I nodded.

It was cold enough to see our breath in the air. Weird to think it was literally boiling out here a few hours ago. Dell gestured for me to sit on the bench by the door. 

“Do you have a coat, Hunter?”

“Nah, I’ll be fine.” I was wearing a t-shirt and fleece pyjama pants.

“Nonsense.” He stepped back inside before I could say anything else. His palisman chirped and flew over to me. They kept chirping at me. They sound so much like you, Flap.

“I’m sorry, I can’t understand you.” I told them. “Maybe you can have Dell translate.”

As I said this, Dell himself stepped out, an old coat in his arms. He handed it to me and I didn’t bother protesting anymore. It was made of now well-worn leather and lined with fur. I pulled it tight around me and immediately felt warmer. When I looked over at Dell again, he was pulling some kind of cigar out of his pocket. 

“Helps with my pains, though Gwendolyn hates the smell of it.” He explained as he lit the end of it. 

“Oh, is that witch’s wheat? I read about it in a healing botany book, but it was super frowned upon in the healing coven.”

He exhaled a puff of blue smoke. “It was a little too wild for them, eh?”

“Yeah. Anything that didn’t fit perfectly into Belos’ categories got discarded.” I almost added including me, but thought better of it.

Dell looked at me with a soft expression. His eye met mine like he was searching for something. His palisman chirped something in his ear; whatever it was made him chuckle and shake his head as he lifted the wheat cigar to his lips. “Toast here says you’re weird,” he said on the exhale.

“Me? Weird? They don’t know what they’re talking about.” I laughed too loud and in a stupid way.

Toast chittered something else to Dell, and I really wished I could understand what they were saying. Dell listened as he took another puff, then he was quiet for a minute.

“What did they say?”

“Well…” He hesitated. “They’re saying you’re different than other witches, but I think they mean it in a positive way.”

“Oh, well, palismen tend to really like me. For some reason.”

“Do you have one of your own, Hunter?”

I froze. I should’ve anticipated this question. Maybe I assumed Eda or Lilith would’ve said something to him. They more or less know what happened. 

I wasn’t sure how to answer, but I’m bad at lying so I figured I’d better stick with some version of the truth.

“I did. He, uh…he was my best friend. But he’s gone now.” I felt myself grab my chest without thinking. 

Dell put his hand on my back. I couldn’t look at him. If I looked at him, I would cry. Part of me wanted to tell him everything about you, how we met, how you stayed with me when I didn’t deserve it, how you gave up your life so I could have mine. But I couldn’t bring myself to speak; and how much would I have to reveal to explain it all?

“I’m sorry to hear that. To lose a palisman…it’s like losing a part of yourself.”

All I managed to say in response was a week, barely audible “Yeah.”

Toast said something to me. I tried so hard. But I couldn’t understand them. I don’t know if I’ll ever make that connection with a palisman again. 

“We should probably head inside before the others get worried.” Dell said. He extinguished his cigar and wrapped up what was left in a thin cloth. I watched each small movement. Each move was slow and careful to compensate for how his hands shook. Luz told me his injuries had something to do with Eda and the owl beast, but not even she knows the full story. I doubt it’s something he nor Eda would want to relive. 

When we came inside, I took the rebus and the chest to the dining table and got right back to staring at them. My eyes hurt rereading the inscription.

Lilith was the first to come downstairs. She sat at the table with me and glared at the chest as if her undivided focus could unlock it. Then Eda came down and said verbatim, “Damn, Hunter. You’re looking about as lively as the houseplant I left out in the boiling rain.”

Lilith said, “You shouldn’t be mean to Hunter. He actually knows how to hold his own in a fight without magic.”

“Well, if he hits me over the head with those sandbags under his eyes…” Eda didn’t finish the thought as she sat beside me and raised her eyebrows. “What do you know about sleeping nettles, kid?”

“I’ll sleep after we figure this out.”  I pushed the chest towards Lilith, who seemed like she would be a lot more helpful than the Owl Lady this morning. “I feel like the inscription might be a clue.”

“Evelyn sure did go through a lot of trouble to hide this.” Lilith picked up the chest. “If you’re right about this being a clue, maybe the ‘here’ in the first line doesn’t mean the place where the chest was buried. It sounds almost like a riddle.”

Eda rested her chin on her hand. “Too bad Luz isn’t here. This is the exact kind of thing she likes to dig her teeth in. Literally.” 

What would Luz do? Shake it? Lick it? Threaten to set it on fire to see if the “will soon be ignited” was just a bluff? No, that’s just stupid, and not stupid in a clever way. I do think she would try her classic “talk it out” method, but there was no way I was going to talking to a box in front of the Clawthornes. Instead, I repeated the words of the inscription in my head for the hundredth time. As Eda stood up to make breakfast, I tore a page out of this journal and tried to rephrase the lines to make better sense of it.

Here lies no body…Here. Between. Here between. Here, between one who was taken and one who was left past repair, lies the love that was shared. The love that was shared lies between…If you break the lock…if you come uninvited…How does someone get invited? Would finding the key even count as an invitation?  This doesn’t seem like a curse someone would use for a box.  It seems more like a protection spell for…

“A house!” I said out loud, interrupting a conversation I didn’t realize was happening. The Clawthorne sisters stopped and looked at me, Eda holding a large frying pan and Lilith holding a spatula like she was about to throw it, and they both waited for further explanation as to why I just yelled a random word at them. It made sense in my head, but I wasn’t sure how to explain it to them. I pushed the paper over to them. “This sounds like a protection spell a witch would use for their home.”

Eda set her frying pan on the table and  picked up my notes. “You might be on to something, kid. They’re a bit outdated, but it was common for witches to put over-dramatic curses on their houses to prevent trespassing.” She laughed, snorting. “I probably would’ve out one on mine if I didn’t have Hooty as a built-in security system.”

“I have read about spells like this being used during the Savage Ages, but all the ones I’ve seen have implied a curse upon the trespasser, not threatened to destroy what it’s protecting,” Lilith said. “Whatever this spell is trying to protect must be too dangerous to give the wrong person any chance of obtaining it.”

I squinted at the gold lock. Then I glanced at the front door of the house. The lock on the door was distinctly not made of the same material as the one on the chest. I told them my idea anyway. “This might be stupid, but maybe the key to this house could unlock the chest.”

“The house key?” Eda reached into her hair and took out a simple iron key. At that moment, Gwendolyn and Dell came down the stairs together. As they started talking to Eda, she set the key on the table and I took it. The key and the lock didn’t match at all, but I figured it was worth a shot.

With Lilith watching me from across the table, I brought the key to the chest. The iron key clicked into the gold keyhole. As it did, the gold transmuted itself to iron that matched the lock on the Clawthornes’ front door. I stared slack-jawed, stunned that it actually worked. The look on my face must’ve shown it, because Lilith grabbed my shoulder, pulling me out of my head. I didn’t even see her move from her seat.

“It actually fits?”

I just nodded. Eda and her parents dropped their conversation. All four Clawthornes stared at me, waiting for me to turn the key and open the chest.

But I couldn’t do it.

The challenge of solving the puzzle had been distracting me from thinking about what could possibly be in the chest. But now, with the key found and answers unlocked, I wanted to puke.

“M-Mayhe one of you should do it. It’s you guys’ house, after all.”

The four of them looked at each other like they were trying to figure out which one of them should have the honor of opening this family heirloom.

“Lilith.” Eda said. “She’s the history nerd and the one who found the rebus. She should open it.”

“Me? Oh, I couldn’t possibly take the opportunity, just because I’m—No, actually, you’re right.” Lilith said, giving up her half-hearted protest in seconds. She moved her chair to sit next to me and then took the chest. We all watched as she turned the key, resulting in a sharp click that told us it was unlocked. When Lilith opened the lid, it played music, soft little notes of a song.

“Oh.” Lilith said. She didn’t sound disappointed or shocked. She reached in and pulled out an envelope. On the front was written To My Dear Future Child in swooping handwriting. I finally dared to look inside the chest myself. It was full of letters and drawings that I couldn’t make out from where I was sitting.

One by one, Lilith took out each scrap of paper. The first after the envelope was a drawing. It was a simple sketch of a witch, and yeah, the Clawthorne family resemblance is striking. There were a few more drawings of Evelyn, most of them depicting her smiling or playing a stringed instrument. But in the last one Lilith pulled out, there was a cardinal resting on Evelyn’s head, using her hair as a nest.

You.

I had to cover it with one of the other drawings before Eda could see it. I didn’t want to have a mental breakdown or to explain why I was having a mental breakdown over a centuries-old drawing. That plan didn’t exactly work out.

Lilith pulled out pages and pages of letters and drawings. Some of the drawings looked like they were made by a little kid, cheerful and colorful and impossible to tell what it was meant to be. Some pages had elemental glyphs on them, but not fully completed if I remember Luz’s correctly. 

The only thing besides letters and drawings was buried in the middle, about the size of a butter knife wrapped in thin, bandage-like cloth. Lilith handled it like she was worried it might break. We all watched her unravel it.

We all watched bones fall out.

Lilith gasped and recoiled at the sight of them. Four small bones. My mouth went dry. Eda grabbed a folded piece of paper that I hadn’t noticed falling out with the bones. She read it out loud.

“Madelyn, this is my final request of you, the final piece of our soon-to-be-forgotten history. The last time I visited your father’s grave, I found it empty. Dug up. Robbed. The body I buried myself was taken. I did not tell you at the time. I told myself I did not want to upset you, but truthfully, I couldn’t bear to speak it out loud. All that remained in the grave were these bones; even his gravestone was taken. These are all I have left of him. I have kept them with me ever since.

“I beg you, dear witchlet: keep these bones safe. Keep them hidden. The theft of Caleb’s remains reopened a wound that never fully healed. I cannot lose what little I have left. Even more, I cannot let the monster that took him have any more of him. You must not tell anyone outside of our family about this. For you and your children’s safety, you must not speak his name outside of our home. I have done everything I can to protect all of you. Use what I have taught you to keep our family safe.

“I am forever sorry you never had the chance to meet him, sweet witchlet. He adored you, as I will always adore you. Yours, Mom.”

Nobody spoke. I don’t think I could’ve if I tried. I couldn’t even move.

I knew it was Philip who stole Caleb’s remains. He took them from Caleb’s family. And then he used them to make his Golden Guards. This is something I have known for months. But when I read about the creation process in old books, it always felt like a distant concept. Now here it was, scattered on the table in front of me. 

And it got worse.

Lilith pulled out a stack of mismatched papers tied together with twine. I wrung my hands under the table, terrified of what might be on those pages. Lilith untied the twine and unfolded the first paper. My question was answered. I look exactly like Caleb Wittebane.

I jerked back from the table. My chair clattered on the floor. My entire body burned like I’d been doused in boiling seawater. I couldn’t breathe. My vision blurred. Eda said something and reached out to me.

I ran away. I sprinted out the front door, barely in control what my body was doing. It didn’t feel like my body anymore.

I ran into the woods, the opposite direction of the gate. I ran until I tripped over tree roots and landed face-first on the dirt. My brain told me to keep running, but I couldn’t get up and didn’t know where I would go anyway. 

They know. They know. They know. The thought twisted around my mind until it was all I could think. I may have been saying it outloud. I know I cried. My eyes are still raw hours later.

I stayed there, curled up, eventually dry heaving, until I was too exhausted to cry or think. I’m not sure how long I laid there before I heard thunder. I looked up and saw storm clouds. Then Eda’s voice called my name. We were about to be in a steaming downpour and she was out there looking for me. I probably would’ve stayed there let the rain boil me to death. But I couldn’t let her die in the rain because she was looking for me. I forced myself to stand up.

“Eda?” I said, my voice weak.

Moments later, she appeared before me. “There you are! C’mon, we gotta haul ass.”

We flew back on Owlbert. I must have made it further into the woods than I realized because it took several minutes to reach the Clawthorne house. The rain started as we came into view of the front door. Eda ended up with minor burns. I’m not sure how I didn’t.

“I’m so sorry,” was the first thing I said when we made it inside. “I shouldn't've run away like that and now you’re—“

“It’s okay, kid.” Eda interrupted me. “I’ve been caught in the rain before. I can handle a few drops of boiling water.”

“But it—“

“Look, how about you go upstairs and hang out in my room while Gwen makes dinner, huh? You can have your alone time as long as it’s not in the splash zone.”

I took the offer. In Eda’s room, I lied down on the floor and stared at the ceiling. Paper stars and a moon hung on strings, dimly lit from the inside. I held my hand in front of my face and focused on breathing.

If they haven’t already figured it out, they’ll realize what I am sooner or later. It’s one thing to be related to the Wittebanes. It’s another thing entirely to be—you know. I don’t know why saying it, even writing it, feels so impossible, so wrong. My friends didn’t seem to view me differently after they found out, but historically, things like me haven’t been well-received. There were a lot of unflattering depictions of them in the books I stole borrowed from Hexside’s library, and it seems like they aren’t exactly beloved by witch society (half the books recommended killing them on sight; the other half recommended running before they would have the chance to kill you). The Clawthornes, especially Dell and Gwendolyn, have had plenty of time to form “educated” opinions on them. Us.

I could hear their muffled voices coming up from downstairs. I can’t help but think they were talking about me. They must have questions. Even though they didn’t ask me tonight, I’ll have to face it eventually. 

Flapjack, what am I supposed to do? What do I tell them? Titan, I mean, you knew Caleb. You were carved by Evelyn. I know you remembered them. Did you miss them? Did it…did it hurt you to look at me and see his face? Why didn’t you tell me more? Why can’t you be here now?

Hunter

Chapter Text

Sweet child,

I write to you on this first day of winter to introduce myself should I never have the chance to meet you properly. Your mother thinks I’m being paranoid or pessimistic, but I’d rather write this for nothing than risk leaving you with nothing of myself but your mother’s memories. Perhaps I write this for you since I wish my parents had left my brother and I with something similar, or with anything at all.

Dear one, the moment Evelyn told me she was with child was the most wonderful of my life. I can only imagine how much more wonderful it will be to hold you for the first time. I already love you so much I feel as though any more love would overwhelm me entirely. I will do anything to keep you safe.

There is someone in this realm who believes you should not exist. I fear this person may do something drastic in the name of a religion we once shared. I, too, once considered witches and demons my enemy, once considered eradicating magic my righteous calling. However, when I met your mother, I began to realize how foolish I had been in this pursuit. Magic is not evil; it is as natural as the wind and rain, and can be contained as much as a hurricane can be kept at bay by the will of one man. 

I have done my best to keep this person away from you and Evelyn; I have spent many months attempting to reason with him, but I fear he has descended to a madness beyond rationality. “You can’t reason with crazy,” your mother once told me. Perhaps she was right. Perhaps there is no pulling him from his hateful crusade. If he finds out about your forthcoming arrival, I fear he will only be driven further into his rage, further even than when I told him I would be staying here on the Boiling Isles.

There is nothing for which I long more than to spend the rest of my life with you and Evelyn. I wish I could promise my presence, and I will do all that I can to remain. This letter is an overly precautious measure to ensure some small part of myself will always be with you. 

If there is one thing I wish for you to know, it is that I love you already, little one. Now and always.

Your father,
Caleb Wittebane

Chapter Text

Clawthorne History Research: Field Notes: Day 4/3

Dear Flapjack,

Not sure why I’m still pretending like this was ever just history research. I wanted this feel like a mission, but it was just a mistake. Being back here in this room at the Owl House and looking back on the whole mess makes me feel even stupider than normal. I shouldn’t have gone hunting for answers I didn’t want.

When I woke up in my cot at the Clawthorne house this morning, everything that happened yesterday felt about as real as my dreams. It wasn’t until I sat up and saw the open chest from across the room that I remembered every excruciating detail. Since no one else had come downstairs yet, I took the opportunity to look through the letters with no one watching. The first one to catch my eye was the one Caleb wrote to his unborn child. The tone would be odd if his fear of his brother hadn’t been entirely justified.

Some letters were between Caleb and Evelyn; most were between Evelyn and Madelyn, their daughter. There were also several mundane lists—grocery and potion ingredient shopping, to-do lists for events, and so on. But the stack of papers that had been tied together were almost all drawings of Caleb. Some of those drawings include you, too. None of them show the scar you had, and at first I thought that meant you didn’t get that scar until after Evelyn died or something. But on the back of one of the sketches was a note from Evelyn to Caleb shortly after his death.

This pain is unbearable. If it weren’t for the baby, I would’ve thrown myself in that grave with you. They’ll be here so soon, and you won’t be here to hold them. I will never wake up beside you again. If you had told me where you were going, I could’ve helped. Now I am alone. Flapjack never returned. I hate to imagine what may have happened to him; I am not certain if it is better to hold onto hope that he survived or to just…let him go. But how can I? How can I let him go if I still cannot accept you are truly gone? 

Did she ever find out that you survived? Did you ever return to her? Were you too damaged to find your way back?

As soon as I heard footsteps on the stairs, I put everything back into the chest and closed it. Some part of me still felt like what I was doing was forbidden, and I’m used to hiding reading material at a moment’s notice.

Dell came down the stairs leaning on the baluster. He looked at me and smiled softly. I gave a little wave and tried to smile back even though I had the urge to duck under the table. Dell didn’t say anything, just gestured toward the door like he was asking me to come outside with him again. I knew I would’ve felt guilty if I stayed, so I got up and followed him outside. As I stepped out, he handed me the same coat I wore the day before. We sat in silence as he smoked. I was almost tempted to ask try it, purely out of curiosity. But who knows how long witch’s wheat would affect someone like me? 

Toast was there too. I avoided looking at them. It hurts too much, looking at Toast and seeing you. All of this hurts too much, digging up the past, theirs and mine and…his. 

“Lilith and Edalyn told us what you told them the other day, about Evelyn and Caleb.” Dell said. I tensed up. “Gwen had heard Evelyn’s name from her great-grandmother,” he continued. “And she knew about Philip Wittebane from her as well. But not about Caleb. How did you know?”

I squeezed my own hands. “Well, there are sort of legends about Caleb and Philip in Luz’s town, and there was like, a hayride with this puppet show thing, and that was like half the story, and when Luz and I were in the Emperor’s mind, we found out a bunch of stuff, like that he was actually Philip Wittebane and he and Caleb were witch hunters and then Caleb fell in love with a witch and was like, ‘hey, maybe witches aren’t evil and we shouldn’t kill them,’ and so Philip was like, ‘I guess I have to kill you to save your soul or whatever,’ and, uh, yeah. That’s basically it.”

Dell stared at me, his one eye wide. “So…Philip was the one who killed Caleb?”

I nodded. 

“And what, exactly, is your connection to all of this?”

He didn’t ask it accusatorily, at least I don’t think he did. But it still made me anxious, my mouth dry and hands shaking. I knew this question was coming. I spent most of the night trying to figure out how to answer.

“Are you also related to Caleb?”

I dug my fingernails into the palms of my hands, pressing into faded scars. “Sort of.”

“It’s alright, Hunter.” Dell exhaled smoke. “You don’t have to tell me.” Toast chirped something to him, but he only responded by brushing his finger across their crest. 

“Did you carve them?” I asked.

Dell nodded. “They were one of my firsts, many years ago.”

This new subject was way easier to talk about. I’ve known for awhile that Dell used to carve palismen, but I didn’t want to barrage him with questions, especially since I came there for a completely different reason. Even then, I didn’t want to ask him every question I’d had about palismen and palismen carving since I started reading about them. 

“How did you learn to carve?” was the next question I allowed myself to ask. 

He smiled. “Ah, well, when I was your age, it was much more common for witches to carve their own palismen. Gwen’s father was teaching the workshops at Hexside. I was looking forward to making a little friend who be with me for life, but when I told the first one I carved what my greatest desire was, she didn’t respond. Mr. Clawthorne told me this was uncommon, but not unheard of at all, that the same thing had happened to him when he began carving. I spent the next month carving more palismen, but each time, they found another witch to partner with. The first time, I did feel a bit hurt, but as I went on, seeing the palismen I carved find their true matches just made me want to make more. When the hawk I carved chose the pretty daughter of the carving instructor, I realized what my true desire was: To help palismen and witches find each other. I said this to the little yellow cardinal I carved next, and they’ve been with me ever since.”

Toast twittered softly and hopped onto Dell’s shoulder, nuzzling their head into his neck. For the first time, looking at the two of them didn’t feel like a punch to the gut. It felt, I don’t know, good, I guess. It felt right. If the circumstances were different, I might’ve asked him more questions, might’ve asked if he would teach me. Instead, I just said, “That’s…really cool, Mr. Clawthorne.”

“Please, call me Dell,” he said.

If the day had ended there, I would’ve been fine.

When we came inside, Gwen, Lilith, and Eda were already making breakfast. They were arguing about something baking related. All three of them disagreed on the flour to griffin egg ratio. Eventually, the younger witches agreed to Gwen’s recipe. I went into the bathroom to change, still feeling pretty good after my conversation with Dell. Then I saw my reflection. My shirt was off, and my gaze caught on the scars wrapped around my stomach and arms and chest, no less prominent than the first time I saw them. They still hurt, sometimes. Not as bad as the first few weeks, but the pulling soreness flares up some days, especially when I’m stressed. And this weekend has been 90% stress. And then I saw my face. Well, I saw Caleb’s face, the only difference being the disfiguration covering half of it. I turned away, put on my sweater, and walked out.

I sat down at the table, as far from Evelyn’s chest as I could get. I traced circles on the wood, the voices in the kitchen dulled to white noise by my thoughts. Then Eda set my plate in front of me. 

“Here ya go, kiddo,” she said. And do you want know what we were having for breakfast? Pancakes . Like some kind of fucking joke. Ha ha.

I didn’t react. I didn’t have the energy to. I didn’t eat. I apologized to Gwen and promised it had nothing to do with her cooking. Eda gave me a sad or concerned or apologetic look a few times. I helped her with the dishes afterwards. Well, she handed them to me while making  a few bad hand-related puns, and I washed them. When she was done making jokes, she leaned against the counter and crossed her arms.

“Hey, kid, I don’t want to pry but—”

“I’m fine.” I interrupted.

“Okay, okay,” she said. “You’re even worse at hiding your emotions than Luz, but we don’t have to talk about it.”

I knew she was right. I hate that she was right, but she was. So I didn’t say anything.

“I know you haven’t told us everything,” Eda continued. “And that’s fine. You don’t have to tell anyone anything you don’t want to. Trust me, I know it can feel a lot easier to keep some of yourself a secret, especially the parts that hurt. But keeping secrets also means keeping the people who care about you away.”

I paused mid-dish scrubbing, but still didn’t speak.

“Sometimes, trying to protect people from ourselves only hurts them more.”

I thought back to Halloween, to the graveyard, about how I convinced Luz to leave the others behind so we could take care of Belos and the titan blood on our own, about the fact that, if I hadn’t, things might have ended differently.

Eda reached into her vest pocket. “There was something in the chest that we found after you left. I think you should have it.”

She took out a red feather and placed it on the counter.

I sort of blacked out after that.

As best as I can remember, I stood there looking at the feather for a few seconds or minutes. When I picked it up, my mind went blank. I walked outside, barely aware of what I was doing or why, but I somehow knew where I was going—the place where we found the chest. I must have said something to the others, because they didn’t immediately follow me.

It would’ve taken at least an hour to get there on foot, maybe longer. It felt like minutes. I found myself beside the patch of dirt and then felt a sharp pain cross my face. I collapsed. When I opened my eyes again, it was dark. I thought I must’ve been unconscious for hours. Then I heard faint, unfamiliar voices approach from behind me. I turned around and saw the glowing yellow outline of a man walking towards me like a ghost. I scrambled out of the way, but he—this ghost or illusion or echo—walked past without acknowledging my existence. From the side, I realized it was the form of Caleb Wittebane. I turned to see what he was walking to, and I saw the outline of Philip. 

I watched Caleb’s outline walk across the forest floor, and I saw you flying behind him, glowing red. As he approached, Philip turned to face him.

“I do hope you’ve come here to tell me you’re through with this…this nonsense you’ve fallen into.”

“Sorry to disappoint.” Caleb said. “I’m here to tell you to go home.”

Philip scowled, his face contorting from neutrality to anger in less than a second. How was it so easy for him to shift moods so suddenly? “I’m not leaving without you, Caleb.”

“I already told you. I’m staying here.”

“You’re actually serious about this, aren’t you?”

“We were wrong about witches, Philip. They aren’t any more evil than you or me.”

I thought this would be when Philip snapped. Instead, he hung his head in resignation. “I cannot convince you otherwise, can I?”

“No. I can never go back to thinking like that. Philip, if you just took the time to get to know this place, to see it’s beauty—”

“Please, Caleb.” Philip put a hand up. “Spare your breath. If you truly believe you should remain here, I will not force you to leave.” Extending his hand, he took a step towards his brother. I heard you chirping panickedly at Caleb, but he just shushed you and looked at Philip.

“All right.” Caleb said to Philip. “If that’s the way it is, I suppose this is goodbye, then.”

“I suppose so.”

They walked towards each other to shake hands or embrace, but I saw what was actually about to happen. As he extended his right hand to take Caleb’s, Philip’s left hand reached inside his coat and took out a jagged dagger. You panickedly cried a warning to Caleb, just in time for him to react and step backwards as Philip lunged for him. The dagger missed Caleb’s chest and grazed his face. He stumbled backs, his hands covering the wound.

“What are you–!?”

I could see the madness in Philip’s face as he yelled, “This is for your own good!” before he lunged at his brother again. This time, you flew at him, pecking at his face. Philip screamed and swung his dagger. I watched, helpless, as the tip of it cut your face. You were sent flying backwards, your shape landing a few feet from where I was crouched in the dirt. I reached for you, but my hands passed through like you were just an illusion.

“Get away from him!” Caleb took a knife from his belt and charged at Philip. The two grappled with each other. Philip wrested the knife from Caleb’s hand and kicked him to the ground.

“You did this to yourself, brother.” Philip stepped on Caleb’s chest. “I knew you were too far gone the moment I saw that witch pregnant with your bastard.”

Panic covered Caleb’s face. He managed to reach into his pocket to take out a slip of paper. As Philip raised the dagger, Caleb slammed the paper onto the ground, flame erupting around it. A fire glyph. Philip’s shock allowed Caleb to bring him to the ground. Caleb scrambled to his feet and started running away, but instead of following him, Philip sprinted to where I was—to where you were. He grabbed you and held you up, his dagger’s point pressed to your head. You cried out, and Caleb turned around. 

As fire spread, Philip shouted, “I’m ending this now!” 

Caleb charged at him, pulling more glyphs from his pocket. He set off another fire glyph, directed at Philip’s feet. Philip dropped you; Caleb screamed for you to get out of here. You flew weakly towards the woods in my direction, landing right in front of me. Caleb snatched his knife on the ground and swung it at Philip. But Philip grabbed his arm mid-swing and plunged the dagger into Caleb’s chest. Caleb fell to the ground, dead.

You looked at him one last time. Then you disappeared into the woods, leaving behind Caleb and a single red feather.

I reached for the feather, and as my fingers touched it, the glowing outlines of Caleb, Philip, and the fire vanished. It was day again. I was alone.

It started raining. I felt the first drop’s sting against the back of my neck and it snapped me out of it enough to get me to crawl towards some kind of shelter. The best I could do was curling up under the nearest tree, its bend just enough to give cover. As the rain poured, I listened for Eda or Lilith’s voices. Nothing. Just the sound of falling, sizzling rain. Some drops hit or splashed on me, but I barely noticed.

I was beginning to make my peace with the fact that they hadn’t come looking for me at all when Gwen showed up. A swarm of firebees swirled over her head, any raindrops evaporating before they could hit the bees and anything beneath them. 

“You really have to stop doing this,” Gwen said. She reached her arm out to me and I took it silently. I clutched the feather in my hand as we flew back to the house. When we got back, I stood in the doorway while she told the others where she found me. It reminded me of the first time I wandered away from the castle and got delivered back to Belos by a coven guard, only he was a lot less forgiving than the Clawthornes were. 

I only heard snippets of their whispered concern. “He seems really out of it.” “Is there anyone we need to talk to about this?” “Maybe he should just go home.” I sunk down to the floor, waiting for the verdict of what they would do to me. I knew they wouldn’t hurt me. I knew that. But I had the same numb feeling I got when I knew I was about to be punished by Belos.

It was Eda who came over to me. She crouched down in front of me, careful not to get too close.

“Hey, kid.”

I flinched and pressed myself against the wall.

Eda sat down cross-legged. From the corner of my eyes, I saw the other Clawthornes walk upstairs.

“You don’t have to say anything, but you do have to, you know, not run back into the boiling rain. Again.”

I stared at the swirling pattern on the doormat.

“Once the rain stops, I’m taking you home, okay?”

I don’t have a home.

“Besides, we wouldn’t want you to miss another day of school.” 

Shit. I forgot I was supposed to be at school today.

“Unless you need to stay home tomorrow. Or however long. You won’t catch me enforcing attendance policy.”

I might’ve laughed under normal circumstances.

“Look, kid. Lucky for you, I’m the closest thing you have to a parent here. I’ve tried to give you some space, but I do still feel responsible for you, in a way. And I care about you. You think I’d let just any random kid live under my roof?”

That actually did make me smile. I couldn’t resist saying, “What about Luz?”

“Hey, Luz is not just some random kid. She’s my random kid. Which means you are too. Like it or not, you’re family.”

For the first time that day, I teared up.

“So, we’re gonna go home, stay inside , watch a movie with flaptop thing Luz left, and we can talk about this tomorrow, okay?”

I nodded half-heartedly.

While we waited for it to stop raining, she helped me get my stuff together. When I felt like I could talk again, I tried to apologize. Eda wouldn’t let me, said she’s run away from this house before too. We left without saying goodbye to the others.

When we got to the Owl House, I went straight upstairs, dodging “Welcome back!” greetings from King and Hooty. I grabbed my CD player and took into the bathroom with me so I wouldn’t have to listen to my own thoughts while I showered. I used a towel to cover the mirror so I wouldn’t have to look at my own body when I got out.

I came downstairs in cat-print pyjama pants and a sweatshirt that’s way too big for me. I sat on the couch with Eda and King and we watched California Jack: Stealers of the Missing Boat and ate iced-scream (which Eda swears she did not buy from the night market). Then Eda walked upstairs with me.

“You gonna be okay tonight?” She asked. “I don’t need Hooty to activate security mode, do I?”

I immediately shook my head. “ No. Please don’t do that. I’ll be fine.”

She raised an eyebrow at me.

“I swear on the Titan himself, I’m not going to run away again.”

“I’ll make sure the Titan holds you to that.” Eda smirked. As if on cue, the sound of a crash followed by a dismayed weh! came from downstairs. “Speaking of which, I should probably make sure he gets to bed too.”

“Thank you, Eda.”

“Don’t sweat it.” She said. “By the way, are you gonna go to school tomorrow? Gotta know if I need to pack a lunch for you.”

“Um, uh, yeah, I guess so.”

“You got it, kiddo.” She started to head downstairs but turned back to look at me. “Let me know if you need anything, okay? And you’d better get your ass in bed if you don’t want to pull a neck muscle carrying those bags under your eyes!” She winked at me and then headed to take care of whatever King dropped or broke. 

I guess didn’t exactly follow her instructions to “get my ass in bed.” Can’t wait to fall asleep in class tomorrow.

And oh. I’m gonna have to tell the others what happened. Fuck.Hunter

Chapter Text

Dear Flapjack,

I woke up to the sound of Eda throwing her screaming alarm clock against the floor above me. It was a welcome reprieve from the scenes replaying in my dreams. By the time I got dressed and trudged downstairs, Eda was in the kitchen with a breakfast burritoad and a paper bag with my lunch in it. I ate as much of the breakfast as I could before being escorted to Hexside by Hooty, a mode of transportation that was obviously not my idea.

Unfortunately, my friends were all gathered on the stairs outside of school. Gus spotted me first and waved enthusiastically, and then made three illusions of himself who also waved at me. Amity elbowed Willow and pointed at me. I felt myself blush. When I reached the steps, I was met with a barrage of questions about my weekend and what were the Clawthorne parents like and did we find the thing on the rebus and why wasn’t I at school yesterday which went on until Matt Tholomule walked up and said, “Welcome back, Hunter. You look like shit.”

"Wow, thanks Matt," I said. "How observant."

Gus elbowed Matt and they both muttered things at each other. Willow stepped up to me. “Sorry, Hunter. You’re probably tired from the trip.”

I nodded. “Yeah, can we just, like, go inside?”

Inside was chaos. Apparently there was an accident in the abomination lab and an entire hallway got covered in purple goo. The weird thing is that the goo started solidifying, making it a lot harder for the abomination track to get rid of it. I didn’t know abomination goo could do that.

Willow walked me to my first class (thankfully on the opposite side of the building). It was quiet enough for us to hear each other, so Willow pulled me aside before I went in.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” I pressed my back against the wall. “I’m just tired.”

“Hunter, you’re always tired. Something else is going on.”

“Can we talk about this later? I don’t want you to be late.”

Willow started to say something else, but the school bell screamed and saved me from the conversation I wasn’t ready for. Willow frowned at me and I knew there was more she wanted to say, but all she said was, “We will talk later.” And she went to her own class.

I managed to stay awake through my potions class since I had to actively participate. My magic geology class was much harder to sit through. I’m pretty sure I fully dozed off at one point, but I got a rude awakening when I heard Mr. Marrow say the word grimwalker. I snapped out of my sleep-deprived stupor. 

“...Grimwalkers, but those rumors are unconfirmed. Since galdorstones are so rare and there haven’t been any recorded sightings of grimwalkers since before the Deadwardian era, it’s unlikely to be proven.” The subject changed to the origins of galdorstones, and I zoned out again. This was the first time I’ve heard grimwalkers mentioned anywhere besides books and the few people who know about me. But I don’t think I ever saw galdorstones mentioned in the books. Most of them were about how fucked up it is that anyone would try to make a living creature out of he body of a dead person and how terrifying it would be to encounter one in real life. So I thought maybe this could be an opportunity to ask someone who might have knowledge I don’t.

I didn’t have the guts to do it. Maybe one day I’ll ask.

I sat with my friends during lunch because I knew avoiding them would only lead to them worrying and asking more questions. I stayed quiet for most of the meal, only partially able to follow their conversations. Not even talks of flyer derby could get me to contribute. Maybe it is just exhaustion. After all, I barely slept all weekend. But I know that isn’t true, and Willow certainly knows that isn’t true.

We didn’t get the chance to talk one-on-one until after school ended, and we only had a few minutes before Hooty would get there to make sure I'd get back to the house.

“Basically,” I said when Willow asked what happened over the weekend. “The witch Caleb Wittebane fell in love with is an ancestor of the Clawthornes and she buried a bunch of momentos which were almost all letters or drawings but there were also literal bones in there which seriously freaked me out because they were Caleb’s bones so it’s kind of like they were my bones and there was some other stuff but it’s really complicated and I don’t really have time to explain.” 

Willow inhaled sharply. “That…that does sound like a lot. Are you okay after learning all of that?”

I shrugged like the answer wasn’t an obvious no . “I’ll be fine. It’s just a lot to think about, you know?” I was not planning on thinking about it.

Her eyes caught on something behind me. Hooty . I double checked to make sure I had all my things. 

“If you need to talk about any of it, I’m here for you, okay? I’m only one Penstagram message away.”

I agreed to reach out if I need anything. It’s easier to say I will than to actually do it. 

When Hooty brought me back to the house, I expected Eda to be waiting for me so she could ask what my problem is. But when we got there, it was just me and Hooty.

“We can finally have a friendship bonding moment! Hoot hoot!” Hooty said. We did not. I walked upstairs and went to bed. 

That was a mistake.

I had a dream that I was back in the Clawthornes’ house, with all of the Clawthornes and their palismen surrounding me. I couldn’t understand what they were saying, but I knew they were angry. I was trying to explain something, but all my words came out as scrambled nonsense. I think I was begging for forgiveness or mercy. Then they all left me and the walls and ceiling started closing in on me. I managed to wake myself up before it got worse.

When I woke up, it was dark outside and I didn’t feel like I had really woken up. I felt like I was still dreaming. I touched my face and hair to make sure I was actually there. I counted the wood panels in the floor and then the number of stitches on the recently added patch on my leggings. Once I was sure, I headed downstairs to see if we had any decent snacks and if Eda was back. Eda was definitely back. And she wasn’t alone. I walked into the living room and found her chatting and having tea with Darius.

I tried to turn back before I was seen, but Eda immediately saw and waved me over.

“There you are!” She said, then turned to Darius and added, “Apparently he’s been asleep since he got home from school.”

Darius smiled smugly. “Really? How in Titan’s name did you get him to take a nap?”

I glared at both of them, not exactly in the mood for teasing. “What are you doing here?”

“Am I not allowed to have tea with an old school friend every now and then?” He sipped from his cup, one eyebrow raised. "Why are you still in your school uniform?"

“Sure, but—Wait,” it took a second to process what he said. “You guys went to school together?” The thought of Darius in a Hexside uniform is hilarious. The thought of Darius being a teenager at all is hilarious.

“Yep!” Eda punched him in the arm, almost making him spill his tea. “He was a certified member of the Club Against Terrible Systems .”

Darius set his cup on the table and smoothed his silk shirt down. “I never agreed to that name, yet it continues to haunt me even now."

“That’s why we didn’t ask you before we turned in the registration form.” Eda said.

I tried not to laugh. I have so many questions. I need to tell Luz about this as soon as possible.  “Are you guys planning a full CATS reunion? Who else was in it?”

“I am certainly not planning a high school reunion.”

“Why not?” Eda crossed her legs and leaned back. “Are you afraid Ala—”

“I’m here to make a delivery.” Darius interrupted. “For you, little prince.”

“Don’t call me that.”

He shrugged. “Got a bunch of stuff from your room in the castle. Looks like a lot of junk to me, but Eber said I should let you go through it before throwing it all out.”

Eda snorted. “Ha! Like you didn’t ban anyone else from touching it.”

“Anyways.” Darius cleared his throat. “The box is on the table in there. I didn’t want to go through all your personal belongings, but I brought some of your books and such.” He smirked. “I didn’t realize you were hiding so many forbidden texts.”

I felt my face getting warm. “Thanks, Darius. That’s…actually really nice of you.”

“Don’t mention it,” he said. “Let me know if you want me to get the rest, or if you want to go take a look at it yourself at some point.”

I crossed the room to the table and opened the large wooden box. I was expecting it to be all books, but on the top layer was my pillow and the toys I kept on my shelves and bed. I glanced back at Darius, but he and Eda were back to talking. I put the lid back on and tried to lift the box. It was heavy, but I for sure could’ve done it by myself if it wasn’t such an awkward shape to hold. My options for help were Darius, who had already gone out of his way to bring this stuff to me and made sure no one else had messed with it, and Hooty, who is Hooty.

“Um, Darius?” I winced at having to interrupt. “Do you think you could help bring this upstairs?”

He took a final drink of his tea and stood up. “Just tell me where to go.”

He picked up the box easily, which definitely didn’t make me feel like a pathetic little kid. I told him to set it down outside my room. He’s seen enough of my personal belongings and it’s been awhile since I properly cleaned my room. He does not need to see all that. I was about to tell him bye and go back to moping in my room, but before I could, he put his hand on my shoulder.

“Hunter,” he said, the use of my actual name catching me off guard. He paused for a moment, looking at me intently. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

“O-Okay.” I said. “You too?”

“I mean it.” Darius said. “You don’t have to do everything all at once. You can take some time for yourself. Relax. Maybe sleep for once.”

“Still telling me what to do, I see.”

He sighed and then ruffled my hair. “It's just a suggestion. No one gets to control you anymore. Remember that.”

He walked away without saying bye. It occurred to me then that he could’ve just used an abomination to bring the box up instead of carrying it himself.

I spent an hour going through everything in the box. It holds all my old books, including all three of the wild magic books I managed to find, every non-breakable item from my shelves, and my first-aid toolbox. He didn’t bring any of my old clothes or weapons, or anything from that drawer beside my bed. Maybe I remembered to lock it after all.

I haven’t been in my old room in so long. Seeing my old pillow, its case shoddily patched by me, and my stuffed animals that I promised I would get rid of after getting my sigil and then after earning my title but never did, it reminds me that my room was the one place I ever had to myself, the one place I wasn’t constantly watched. It was where I was the loneliest and the most comfortable. But it wasn’t so lonely after you found me there.

Maybe I will go see it again. As long as I can wear a blindfold in the rest of the castle.

Hunter

Chapter Text

Dear Flapjack,

Think I might be getting sick. Almost passed out in potions lab. Brain hurts. Can’t go to sleep. Studying for finals. Can’t miss finals. Can’t be sick. Can’t be sick. Can’t be sick.

Hunter

Chapter Text

Dear Flapjack,

I got sick.

Willow says it’s probably because I was so sleep deprived. I don’t think sleep deprivation would make me vomit that much.

When I woke up before school the other day, I stood up and immediately regretted it. I regretted that and every decision I have ever made leading up to that point. My head almost exploded. If I had been any sicker, my brain would’ve melted out of my ears and I would’ve thanked the universe for its mercy.

Willow messaged me four separate times asking why I wasn’t at school. I didn’t see those messages until she came to the Owl House and to see why I wasn’t at school all day. Once she realized I was horrifically ill, she insisted upon taking care of me. I protested this suggestion at first. I did not want Willow to see vomit come out of my nose or my brains melt out of my ears. Then I passed out and woke up in her arms and decided maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to have her here.

“I think I’m dying,” I told her that night.

“No, you’re not,” Willow said. “You barely even have a fever.”

“Hnnngghhhh,” I said.

“Please try to sleep.”

“But I’ll die if I sleep,” I said, fully convinced it was true. 

“You will not die if you go to sleep, Hunter.”

“But I will .” I’m pretty sure I was sobbing at that point, which felt absolutely disgusting considering the vomit situation. “Don’t let me die, Willow. I can’t die in your arms again.”

“No, you can’t,” Willow agreed. “But if you don’t sleep, you’re not going to feel better. You are only going to feel worse. Trust me, I know.”

I fell asleep at some point after that. Obviously, sleeping did not kill me. It definitely helped physically. Mentally, it was almost as hellish as what went down in the bathroom that morning. 

I have a lot of weird dreams. You know this. I have a lot of bad dreams. But that night (and into the next afternoon), I had the weirdest, baddest dreams I have ever had. Even worse, I remember almost all of it.

The dream started out nice, actually. I was on a picnic with Willow, and I felt happy. Then she turned to me and said she had to ask me something. I thought it would be something nice. If I’m being honest, I (or dream me) thought she was going to ask if she could kiss me. Instead, her eyes glowed blue and she said, “Where have you been, Hunter?” And it didn’t sound like her. It sounded like him.

Willow’s face melted into green mud, and the scene changed. Now, I was at Hexside, the way it was before the Day of Unity. I was walking down an empty hallway. It was strangely dark. Then Gus stepped out of the shadows. He looked scared. When he saw me, his expression changed to anger. “What are you doing here, Golden Guard?” He pointed his staff at me, but instead of his palisman staff, it was the artificial staff that Belos made for me. It glowed red and I felt it pulling at my insides. I thought I was going to throw up again. Gus used the staff to drag me to his feet. He looked down at me and his voice changed the way Willow’s had. “It’s time to come home, Hunter.”

I closed my eyes as he brought the staff down, but no impact ever happened. I opened my eyes to find Gus and the Hexside hallway gone. I was lying on my back, looking up at the ceiling of a cave. Amity appeared several feet above me, looking down, her eyes full of hatred. “There’s nothing worse than disappointing someone who thinks you’re special,” she said. She held a shovel over the hole I was in. “Let me help you, Hunter.” Again, her words were distorted, twisted with Belos’ voice. She shoveled cold dirt and snow onto my live body. I could feel the impact of each shovel of dirt falling onto me until I was completely covered. I thought I was going to suffocate. 

“There you are.” At these words, the feeling of suffocation dissipated. It was Belos’ voice again, but not the cold, distant version I usually hear in my head. “Where have you been?” He didn’t ask it as an accusation. No, he was talking to me the way he did when I was little. I opened my eyes and saw him standing over me, the light of the moon behind him. He reached his hand down to me. “It’s all right, Hunter,” he said. “It’s time to come home.” As he spoke to me, I started feeling less scared. I took his outstretched hand.”That’s right,” he said. “Let me help you.”

He carried me back to the castle, all the way to my room. If I hadn’t already been asleep and dreaming, I think I would’ve fallen asleep in his arms.

Belos took me to my room in the castle and laid me on the bed. He walked to the doorway and looked at  me again. “Maybe he will last longer than the others,” he said softly.

As he left, I heard him lock the door from the outside. The feeling of peace wavered. Something was wrong. I wasn’t safe; I was trapped.

I called out to him. Wait! Don’t leave! My voice sounded strange, like it was coming from somewhere behind me. I dragged myself from the bed and tried to get to the door. It felt like swimming through swamp water. Please, Dad, wait—!

I started sinking into the floor. I reached up, I wasn’t sure what for, and grabbed something. It came down with me, and I landed in darkness. I laid there, waiting for whatever horror was next. I didn’t have to wait long. A light shined from behind me. I turned to face it. To face them. Dozens of Golden Guards. They all looked down at me, their expressionless masks staring blankly. I crawled backwards, fearing what they would do to me. Instead of coming towards me, they started collapsing one by one. Their masks and hoods came off, revealing only skulls and bones.

I looked down at myself. I was in my uniform. The thing I had grabbed, still in my hands, was the Golden Guard’s cloak. A dozen disembodied voices that sounded like mine hissed at me, “You’re next.” I cowered, covering my face and curling into myself. 

“Hunter?”

I didn’t move.

“Is he awake?” Eda’s voice.

“I don’t know.” Willow.

“Maybe we should pour water on him.” That was King.

It occurred to me that I might not be dreaming anymore. I just had to open my eyes and it would be over.

“We are not going to pour water on him, King,” Willow said.

“I’ll go get the bucket,” Eda said.

I opened my eyes. Willow, Eda, and King were all standing over me in my room. I tried to say, “I’m awake, please don’t dump a bucket of water on me,” but I’m pretty sure it came out more like, “Hhhnnnggghh mmmhhhnnn,” which was at least enough to let them know I wasn’t still asleep.

Willow crouched down next to my bed. “Hunter!” She reached out and put her hand on my cheek. “You’re awake! How are you feeling? What do you need? Water? Snacks?”

I put my hand over hers. I was just glad she was here and real. Her hair was down, in her face a little bit. I reached out and tucked it behind her ear. Her cheeks were warm and she smiled.

“You’re so pretty,” I mumbled, still somewhat delirious, too tired to care. 

She softly brushed my hair from my face. “I’ll go get you some water, okay?” She kissed my forehead and stood up. “Don’t go anywhere.” 

“Okay.” I didn’t process the fact that she’d kissed me until she was out of the room. And that my forehead was cold and sweaty. Embarrassing. I wanted to get up and go after her, but when I tried to sit up, I realized that my entire body still hurt like hell and moving was not an option. 

It took a lot of convincing to get me to go to sleep again that night. Thankfully, my dreams weren’t as bad or as vivid. I woke up with a similar creeped-out feeling, but I felt less shitty physically. Willow came over again and she brought incredible soup made by one of her dads. By the end of the day, I could fully stand up on my own without passing out even a little bit.

The next day, today, I had to cram in three days worth of studying. This would’ve been fine, except I couldn’t stop thinking about those dreams. Or about Willow kissing my sweaty forehead. But mostly the dreams. 

The thing that freaks me out the most is that part with Belos. I can sort of handle dreams about him attacking or possessing me, but him being nice? Feeling safe? Why does that feel so much worse?

Why can’t I stop thinking about it?

Hunter

Chapter Text

Dear Flapjack,

The first day of my last week of school is officially over, and it went pretty well. At least, the exams were okay. I’m not entirely certain the ability to name and categorize 120 different kinds of rocks will be a skill I use in the future, but you never know. The other exam I had was for Magical Applications of Mathematics, which is definitely an exam that I sat through and tried my best. I could practically hear my old math tutor sighing in disappointment when I got to the oblong division section. The rest of it felt fine, but I’m not looking forward to seeing the marks I’ll get.

Aside from exams, today was…a lot. When I got to Hexside, I met up with the rest of the squad as usual. They asked how I was feeling (completely recovered, thank you), and I asked if anything interesting had happened on the days I missed. They all immediately said “no” and “of course not!” and “it’s been totally boring and normal!” In hindsight, they were all lying. I guess I can’t judge them for that. In the moment, I didn’t think much of it. I may have been more focused on how Willow’s hair was braided differently and how I thought it looked cool, having one braid instead of two. Not that her usual two braids aren’t also cutecool. Whatever. The point is, I ignored my friends’ oddly passionate insistence that nothing interesting had happened while I was gone.

Look, I know I’m not the most popular guy at school (that is, somehow Matt Tholomule). I mostly stick with my friends and I’m satisfied with that. It’s more friends than I ever had before, so I’m content to just hang out with them. However, I have made an effort to be somewhat sociable. I’ve had the most success in potions lab, since that requires collaborating with my classmates, and, as Amity predicted, I’m one of the top students in the class, so people actually want my help sometimes, especially this student named Falon. They sit next to me in class and we’ve been partnered up by our teacher a few times. The day I had missed class at the beginning of last week, they asked where I had been and said they were glad I was back. They’re pretty cool, and I thought they liked me but…Today, when I went into class, Falon was standing with some other students, ones I don’t know as well. Falon looked over when I walked in. I smiled and started to wave, but they immediately looked away. They whispered something to the others and then they all gave me a weird look at the same time. No one talked to me during our pre-final, even though Professor Kanderen encouraged us to work with and help each other. I tried to ask Falon how their practice potion turned out, but they made some excuse and walked away from me.

I told myself to forget about it. They’re probably just stressed about exams, right? So, I focused my attention on rock classification.

At lunch, it was just Amity and me since Gus and Willow were studying in the library. We didn’t talk much. She asked how I was feeling, and I said I was still a little woozy but mostly fine. I asked how her weekend was and she said it was boring because Luz couldn’t come visit. As we were eating, I saw Falon across the cafeteria, which reminded me what had happened earlier. I decided to tell Amity.

“My friend from potions class has been acting weird today.” I pushed my snapping peas around on my plate. “Actually, the whole class was kind of weird.”

Amity froze with her fork in mid-air. “What? That’s weird. I’m sure it’s nothing, though. People are probably just stressed. I’m sure it has nothing to do with you.”

“Yeah, probably—Wait, I didn’t say it had anything to do with me.” I squinted at her. Her face turned red and she avoided my gaze.

“Oh! Yeah, of course. I just mean, you know, if you were thinking that, you shouldn’t. But if you weren’t then I guess I didn’t need to say that.” She grinned, clearly forcing it.

I was now convinced that something definitely was going on and it definitely did have something to do with me. “Amity, what’s going on?”

“I-I’m not supposed to tell you.” She winced, looking around nervously. “We can talk about it after exams, okay?”

“I think we should talk about it now.”

“We really shouldn’t.” She took a deep breath and leaned across the table. “Look, Hunter,” she whispered. “All I can say is that you should keep your head low and focus on exams. We can explain everything later. Promise.”

“Keep my head low? And who is ‘we?’”

She looked around like she was expecting someone to sneak up on us. “Just—try not to bring any attention to yourself. We can’t talk about this here—”

She stopped abruptly when a couple of students walked by with their lunch trays. One of them looked at me and her eyes widened before she glared at me. They both walked off without saying anything. I have never spoken to those witches before.

“See? What the fuck was that?”

Amity’s shoulders dropped. “We can talk after school, okay?”

“Today?” I asked.

She nodded. “Today.”

I tried to do what Amity suggested and literally kept my head down. For whatever reason, people were treating me differently than they were before. Amity and the others knew why, but they couldn’t tell me. Every time I got distracted from my math exam, I got that sinking feeling in my stomach. Something was wrong, and I didn’t know what.

I found out before my friends got the chance to tell me.

I was at my locker, looking through my bookbag after my last class. When I took my geology textbook out, a loose piece of paper fell to the floor. I unfolded it.

WHAT ARE YOU HUNTING?

Beneath the words was a drawing, small and crude, but I knew what it was: Two halves of a broken palisman.

I froze. Who wrote this? Who put it in my bag?

I counted my breaths, trying not to panic. I shoved the paper in my bag and got out of the building as soon as possible.

Gus was waiting for me outside. He waved me over and I tried to pretend like nothing had just happened.

“Hey, Hunter!” He held his hand up for a fist bump. I didn’t leave him hanging

“Gus,” I said; I could hear the fear in my own voice. “What’s going on?”

“I just wanted to ask if you wanted to come over and, uh, talk about Cosmic Frontier?” He put his hands up, shrugging.

I glared at him. “Don’t mess with me. Is this about why everyone—”

He sighed. “Yeah. Amity told me to use a cover in case anyone overheard.”

“Are you actually Gus?” I had the feeling this might be an illusion. I poked his shoulder.

“It’s me, real and in the flesh,” he said, putting his hands up. “I wouldn’t mess with you.” He looked at me, and I looked into his eyes. He seemed anxious, and was obviously hiding something, but I believed him.

“Okay,” I said. “Let’s go talk about ‘Cosmic Frontier .’”

We flew to his house on Emmaline, silent the entire ride. His dad was using a typewriter in the kitchen when we walked in.

“Hi Dad! Hunter is here too! Okay, bye!” Gus said in one breath. Perry started to say something back, but Gus dragged me to his room before we could hear it. Amity and Willow were already there, sitting on the floor in front of Gus’ bed. Gus and I took a seat with them. There was silence for a moment, but I couldn’t stand it.

“What is going on? Why are people suddenly afraid of, or-or whatever about me?”

I looked at Gus who looked at Willow who looked at Amity. Amity closed her eyes and took a deep breath. 

“There is a rumor going around,” she said. “About you.”

She didn’t immediately continue. “What is it?” I asked. “Everyone already knows I was the Golden Guard. I thought they were mostly over that.”

“Someone started saying that you’re still loyal to Belos,” Amity clarified.

“What? Why?”

“We don’t know why,” Willow said. “And we don’t know who started the rumor.”

“But you all knew people were saying that? Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“We thought it would blow over by the time you got back,” Gus said. “Random rumors usually don’t survive the weekend.”

“But sometimes they do,” Amity added. “Sometimes they get worse.”

I looked at all of them again. They all avoided my gaze, looking at each other or the floor or their palismen. “What aren’t you telling me?”

It was Willow who finally told me. “They’re also saying that you used to hunt and bring palismen to Belos so he could use their souls and that now you are keeping yourself alive by using palismen.”

I felt sick again. Who would even know that? Did Kikimora tell Boscha? As for the other half of that, who would think that? Why would they say that?

“We obviously know that second thing isn’t true,” Amity said. “But, you know, Luz told us about how you tried to steal the palismen from Hexside.”

“But I—“

“You let them go. I know.” Amity traced circles on the rug. “So, you didn’t ever actually give palismen to Belos?”

Without even thinking, I said, “No, of course not!” A lie. “I mean, I was there sometimes when it happened, but I never handled the palismen myself.” Another lie. “And I didn’t know they were actually alive back then.” A third lie.

I don’t know why I didn’t just tell them the truth. I also didn’t tell them about the note I found in my bag.

The three of them relaxed a little bit after I said all that. I know I’m bad at lying, but I guess I was convincing enough. They probably thought I was acting panicked for all the other reasons. It’s better if they don’t know the truth. It doesn’t even matter anymore. The other rumors are completely false, but if I told my friends the truth about what I did for Belos, would they still trust me? I just want to be a normal student. 

Emmaline, who had been resting on the floor next to Gus, crawled over to me and climbed onto my knee.

“I’m sure it’ll die down for real over the break,” Gus said. 

“Or it’ll get worse, right?” I glanced at Amity as I pet Emmaline’s head with the back of my fingers.

“Maybe if we figure out who started the rumor, we can put a stop to this whole thing and you won’t have to worry about it anymore,” Amity suggested. “We can start asking around tomorrow.”

I’d forgotten about tomorrow. I have to go back for another day of this, and this time I’ll know exactly why people are looking at me that way. They’re afraid of me, afraid that I’ll try to steal their palismen. Even though I would rather die than ever hurt a palisman again. Even though my friends’ palismen follow me around and climb on me whenever they get the chance.

“I think I should go home,” I told them. “I have to study and also mentally prepare for social ostracization.”

“Just two more days, Hunter,” Willow said. “We’ll figure this out and then you won’t have to worry about it anymore.”

I am still worried about it.

Maybe I shouldn’t have lied. Sure, Amity sounded pretty scared when she asked me that question and they were all so relieved when I told them I hadn’t done that, but maybe they wouldn’t have made a big deal out of it. They know me. They know I would never hurt a palisman. Not ever again.

You knew that, didn’t you, Flapjack? I mean, you trusted me. After meeting you, I never even thought about trying to get more palismen for Belos, even more after I saw their malformed souls inside Belos’ mind.

I don’t want to hurt anyone anymore.

You believe me, right, Flap?

Hunter

Chapter Text

Dear Flapjack,

I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry i’m sorry i’m sorry i’m sorry i’m sorry 

i miss you

Hunter

Chapter Text

Dear Flapjack,

It was almost over. I just had to get through my potions exam. That’s what I thought. I finished the exam. I was going to go home before lunch and skip the last useless end-of-trimester classes.

I was on my way to clear out my locker. I ignored everyone else in the hallways. I pretended not to hear them. I flinched when I thought I heard someone say grimwalker , but I convinced myself I was just being paranoid. Turns out, I was right to be paranoid.

I took my textbooks out of my locker, thanking it for holding all my stuff, but as I walked away, it spit something out at me. A blank envelope, definitely holding more than one piece of paper. My heart dropped. I’ve received a few notes over the last few days, most just calling me a traitor or a palisman killer. But I knew whatever was in this envelope was worse than any name-calling I’ve been dealing with.

Obviously, I didn’t open it in the hallway. I rushed outside to find the courtyard deserted. I could’ve waited to open the envelope until I got home. But I didn’t. I haven’t been thinking clearly. My hands shook while I stood next to a column and opened it. The first page was a single sentence.

I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE, GRIMWALKER.

My body went cold. The rest of the pages were full of information from books. My head was spinning. I could barely read any of it. Some words stuck out like knives. Necromancy . Galdorstone. Dangerous. Do not approach. Soulless. Do not trust. Kill on sight.

The final page was a drawing of me. I would’ve laughed at how ridiculous it looked, how they exaggerated all of my features, but the word GRIMWALKER written across the bottom killed any humor.

I shoved all the pages into my bag. What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck was all I could think as I walked to the Owl House. When I came in, Eda and Raine were sitting on the couch, suspiciously close. Eda said something about me being home early. I ignored her and went straight to my room. Since the door doesn’t lock, I pushed the big chest in front of it. I dumped my bag out and spread all the pages across the floor.

There are ten in total, including the picture and the note directed at me. Two are information about “ingredients.” Three are stories about or historical sightings of grimwalkers. Two pages are tips on how to identify one. The last one is instructions on what to do if you encounter one.

Surely no one would be able to tell just by looking at me. No one has before.

But whoever made this also made the note with the broken palisman. I compared the handwriting just to make sure. I have no idea who did this or why. They aren’t blackmailing me. There have been no threats or conditions. Maybe this is a warning. Whoever this is clearly has a major problem with me. They’ve already told people that I used to hunt palismen. I just don’t understand why.

Every page suggests or outright states that grimwalkers are monsters, not actual people. Grimwalker creation is a kind of necromancy, and people don’t talk about necromancy. It has always been frowned upon at best, punishable by death at worst. Even the wild magic books I read condemned necromancers. My existence is wrong . I should’ve never been alive. He made me from the stolen remains of his brother. He made dozens. He killed them all. He was always planning to kill me.

When I found out that I’m a grimwalker, I ran to Hexside. It was the only place I believed I could hide. I didn’t sleep. I wouldn’t have eaten anything if you hadn’t found hexmix for me. I thought about killing myself then. I figured I might as well since being found by Belos would be a thousand times worse and I’d end up dead anyway. You told me not to. You said you didn’t want me to die. Hunter stay! Hunter good! I think that’s what you said. Stay! Eat! Wake up! 

After reading through every page, I put them back in the envelope and shoved them under the mattress. I’m going to have to tell Eda now. Everyone will know soon enough. Might as well get it over with. I’ll tell her tonight. For now I’m going to lie in my bed and pretend that nothing is real. This is just another nightmare. I’m just dreaming. I’ll wake up and none of this will have happened.

Hunter

Chapter Text

Dear Flapjack,

Everyone knows.

I haven’t left the house since I got home yesterday. I’ll probably never leave again. Willow and Amity came over to tell me what happened and to make sure I was okay. By that point, I had a dozen Penstagram messages asking me if it was true or calling me a freak and a monster. It all felt like a dream until my friends showed up.

According to them, word spread like fire starting at lunch. People weren’t just talking, though; they were passing around flyers. 

NECROMANTIC MONSTER: NOT WHAT HE SEEMS

Created to hunt and kill! Thirsts for blood!

Gray skin; malformed body parts; unexplainable scars

DO NOT let the GRIMWALKER get you ALONE!

It’s absurd. The exaggerated drawing emphasizing my scars and teeth, the awkward phrasing, the very concept of a flyer announcing my monstrosity. If it were a baseless lie, it would be funny. A random classmate secretly being the product of blood-thirsty necromancy? Honestly, they’re underselling how fucked up I am. They didn’t even mention the most important ingredient: stolen parts of a dead body!

I actually did laugh when Amity pulled out the flyer. I think I must’ve been delirious. Reality did set in eventually.

“We’ll get through this,” Willow told me. “The people who actually know you won’t fall for this crap.”

“Fall for what? It’s true.” I held the flyer up next to my face and tried to imitate the angry grin. “I’m coming for your blood!”

No one laughed. 

“Everyone will forger about this by the end of break.” Now I was lying to myself. “I’ll just hang out here until they all get over it.”

Willow and Amity looked at each other. “There’s already a petition to ban you from Hexside,” Amity said. “The students who were already convinced that you’re still loyal to Belos are running with this. They’re saying grimwalkers are always loyal to their ‘masters,’ no matter what. I think it’s only going to get worse from here.”

“A petition to ban me?” I laughed again. They must think I’m fucking crazy. “Pfft, like Bump would ever agree to that. He loves me.”

“Well, if enough students sign it, there won’t be much he can do about it.” Willow messed with the ends of her hair. “We’re gonna do everything we can to stop this.”

“They can’t…they can’t just, kick me out of school.” Reality was, in fact, setting in. “After everything I’ve done, they’re just gonna toss me into a ditch? I know I fucked up before but I’ve been trying to make up for it. I guess it isn’t enough. I mean, how am I supposed to make for being a necromantic freak?” I waved the flyer around. “I can’t fix this!”

“Hunter, we are going to figure out how to get you out of this…this bullshit ,” Willow said. She almost never swears. “You can freak out for now, but at some point we have to be serious.”

“I’m dead fucking serious.” I hated the way I was talking and raising my voice, even in the moment. But I couldn’t shut my stupid mouth. “Some dumb fucking flyer is going to ruin everything I’ve worked for. Whoever the hell is doing this probably wants me dead. And do you think this is gonna stay inside Hexside? All of Bonesburough will know by tomorrow morning.” I reached under my bed and took out the mystery envelope. “I can’t go out there! Do you know what the books say about grimwalkers?” I dug through the pages until I found the one I was looking for. I cleared my throat and read, “‘Grimwalkers are sickly creatures that will stop at nothing to accomplish their maker’s goals. Do not let them near children. Do not trust them. If you find yourself at the wrong end of a grimwalker encounter, do not hesitate to kill it.’”

I waited for Willow or Amity to say something. I cast the paper aside and curled up, bringing my knees to my chest. “It doesn’t matter,” I say. “Whatever happens will happen. Just gotta wait and see.” I buried my face in my arms.

“Have you talked to Eda about this?” Amity or Willow asked. I can’t remember who.

I shook my head. “She doesn’t even know I’m a grimwalker.”

“She…doesn’t?”

“Nope.”

“Oh. Well. I think she does now,” Willow said.

I moved my head just enough to look at her. “What do you mean?”

“We, uh, sort of told her,” Amity said. 

“What?”

“I assumed she knew! Since you live here and I figured Luz would’ve found an opportunity to tell her at some point.”

“She asked us why we’re here and we told her.” Willow looked so anxious. “She looked surprised but I thought that was just because of how weird this current situation is.”

I stood up without saying anything else and marched down to the living room. “Eda!” I called.

“Relax, kid, I’m right here,” Eda said from the couch. “Are you okay?”

“What did they tell you?”

“The girls? They said something bad happened to you at Hexside because you’re a grimwalker.” She stood up but didn’t come closer to me. 

“I swear, I was going to tell you when the time—”

“The time is never right, kid. Don’t worry about it. You can tell me now.”

So I did. The self-preservative filter I usually maintain was off-duty. I told her everything I could think of. About the Emperor’s mind, about Caleb and the Golden Guards, about the rumors at school and the notes and the flyer. At the end of it, I was sitting on one end of the couch while Eda stared at me, eyes wide and mouth open.

“Wow,” she said. “That is…a lot.”

I just nodded. We sat in silence for a while, then Eda spoke again.

“I’d ask why you didn’t just tell me, but I get it.” She looked down at her arms and hand. “I know what it’s like to be seen as a monster. Heck, I wasn’t seen as normal even before the whole curse thing. I know it’s easier or safer to hide certain things about ourselves. I’m glad you told me now.”

“Yeah, I just, I don’t know what to do,” I said.

“Me either.” Eda shrugged. “We’ll have to take it one day at a time. I’ve got your back, kiddo.” She smiled at me and I actually felt a little better. Not much, but a little.

When I went back up to my room, Willow and Amity were playing cards with King. I walked in as Willow put down her winning card. They all turned and looked at me.

“Sorry I ditched you guys,” I said. “And I’m sorry for yelling.”

Willow smiled softly at me. “It’s okay. We understand.”

“Thanks for coming over.” I walked around them and sat down on my bed. “I think I need to be alone, now.”

“Are you sure?” Amity asked.

I nodded.

“One of us will come check on you tomorrow,” she said, not asking. “You know how to reach us if you need anything before that.” As she walked out, she told Willow she’d wait outside for her. King also walked out, leaving me and Willow alone. I would’ve been nervous or whatever, but I was too exhausted to feel anything.

She stood in front of me for a moment. I wonder what was going through her mind. If she does/did actually like me as, you know, something other than a friend, I fear that outburst I had might’ve done nothing but push her away.

“You don’t deserve any of this,” she said. “You know that, right?”

I shrugged my shoulders. Because what if I do? My dream of being a normal student was never really going to happen, but I didn’t think it would be taken so soon. 

“Whatever happens, I’m here.”

I couldn’t look at her. I’m not sure I responded at all. And then I was alone.

Hunter

Chapter Text

Dear Flapjack,

Luz came over to the Demon Realm as soon as she heard that I, in her words, “got outed” as a grimwalker. She tried all day today to get me to talk about it. I’m not sure what there is to talk about. My feelings? I don’t feel anything about it anymore. Thoughts on what to do about it? I can’t think at all. When she eventually gave up, we put on a movie in our room. She fell asleep almost immediately, and now Stringbean is draped around my shoulders watching me write.

It’s good that she’s here. She was the first person to ever find out. She never even seemed to think it was a big deal. Like, aside from the Belos stuff. I guess a grimwalker isn’t that far off from any given demon if you’re used to the Human Realm. I tried to explain it to her back when we were all stuck there. She wanted to know why I was so adamant about not letting the others know.

“You don’t look that different from any other witch,” she said. “It’s not like you’re a zombie.”

“It’s not about looking different. It’s more complicated than that,” I said. “And I don’t know what a zombie is.”

She started telling me about zombies and then we got distracted talking about human monster legends and I avoided ever letting the grimwalker thing come up again.

She understood it a little more after I showed her the pages that were given to me. She doesn’t know much about necromancy aside from knowing that corpses can be reanimated in certain circumstances. I told her that almost every form of necromancy is universally condemned by witch society. Even before Belos/Philip came along, it was considered to be blasphemous. Since we live on a giant rotting corpse, desecrating the dead is thought to be taking advantage of what the Titan gives us. I think that may be where Belos got the idea to use the Titan’s will as a way to manipulate people into the coven system. Necromancy is a form of wild magic, so he basically extrapolated that to mean all wild magic was displeasing to the Titan.

“So, Philip condemned necromancy as form of wild magic, but he was doing necromancy the whole time?” Luz shook her head. “The layers of hypocrisy never cease to amaze me.”

“Hypocrisy was what he did best,” I said. “Do you remember the artificial staff I used to have?”

“The one you used to hold me and Eda over boiling water? Yeah, I remember.” She smirked. Luz loves taking every opportunity to get on my ass about that stuff. It’s not like I was actually going to dump them in the ocean.

I rolled my eyes at her. “Yeah, that’s the one. Did you ever wonder how Belos made ‘artificial’ magic?”

She shook her head.

“He told me it was a gift from the Titan since he had such ‘big plans’ for me. Turns out, the key component of my artificial staff was the bile sack of a dead witch.”

Luz looked as grossed out and horrified as I did when I first figured that out. One of the grimwalker books had a little section that mentioned bile sacks could be used as magic source even after a witch was dead. That’s when I realized what the goopy stuff inside the core of the staff was.

“Where did he even get a bile sack?”

“Gee, Luz, where do you think?”

“You know, I’d rather not think about it.” She crossed her arms and looked away for a second, only to turn back to me with a blank expression. “Update, I can’t not think about it now.”

This is simply part of my routine. Every now and then, I’ll have a horrifying realization about Belos or my upbringing, have a brief crisis where it’s all I can think about, and then shove it in a metaphorical box and never think about it again. If I didn’t have the box, my brain would stop working entirely.

“How are you so casual about this?” Luz asked. “Doesn’t it freak you out?”

I shrugged. “Yeah, but I like learning about wild magic, and it’s interesting to figure out different ways it can be used, even if those ways are objectively fucked up and creepy,”  I said. “By the way, that gross feeling you have is the way most people react to learning about grimwalkers.”

I think she finally got it then. Having reached a state of numbness myself, it was almost funny to watch her go through all the papers again with that new perspective. She kept reading quotes out loud and I just sat there and stared at the wall, barely hearing her at all.

“A bunch of this stuff isn’t even true!” She said, her voice loud enough to bring  me out of my daze. “You don’t have an extra set of fangs and you aren’t blood thirsty. And these stories seem to take a lot of creative liberty with the concept. You sleep and you eat normal food! You don’t drink blood!”

“Well, apple blood is pretty tasty,” I joked. I’ve been thinking about breaking into Eda’s “grown-ups only” cabinet, but I don’t feel like being on the receiving end of Harpy Eda. 

“And what’s this about boiling rain?” Luz ignored my joke and read off another page. “‘Grimwalkers are largely immune to damage inflicted by boiling water, including rain and ocean water.’ No one can stand the rain here. That doesn’t even make any sense!”

“I haven’t been able to test that yet,” I said. “I figure that next time it rains, I’ll go outside and see what happens.”

“Oh my god, you’re such an idiot.” She slapped her forehead. “I’m not going to let you put yourself in danger because of some stupid book page that has no basis in reality.”

I almost made a joke about having experienced worse than minor burns from rain but thought better of it. She would not find that funny, at least not right now. And she would’ve tried even harder to get me to talk about my feelings.

While Luz does not think I should walk out into boiling rain, she does think I should walk into town because she’s still convinced no one will actually care about me being a grimwalker. At least, she doesn’t think anyone will do anything about it. I agreed to go tomorrow, on the condition that we get the others to come with us. This will probably be the last time I leave the house for awhile, and I know our friends are about to get busy with reconstruction over break. 

I should probably be worried. I don’t really know how the general public will react. Willow and Amity didn’t seem to think that my fellow Hexoleos were taking it well. The whole petition to ban me thing isn’t promising either.

It’s better to get this over with. If there’s a mob, I’ll just move to the human realm and never come back! Which would be a fine option! I’m probably more human than witch, anyway. Medical care could be an issue, but I know how to take care of myself, and Camila is a veterinarian so she could probably figure stuff out, so it would be fine, actually.

Guess I’ll let you know how it goes! Unless it does turn out to be worst case scenario and someone kills me on sight. Bye!

Hunter

Chapter Text

Dear Flapjack,

I almost felt normal this morning.

The shock of receiving the envelope and finding out about the flyers had worn off, I’d already cycled through a dozen escape plans in my head, and I was hopeful that I’d be able to have a normal time with my friends. That’s what hanging out with Luz Noceda does to a guy. It gets you hopeful.

I tried to dress as unassuming as possible. I put on gloves, tucked my pants into my boots and put a tight long-sleeve shirt on under my red button-down. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to tie my hair back like I usually do or to leave it down so it could maybe cover my face a little. It’s times like I these that I wish I still had a mask to wear. Luz said I should just put it in a ponytail since I can take it down if I start feeling uncomfortable. I always feel uncomfortable in crowds, but I went ahead and tied it back anyway.

When Willow and Gus showed up, Clover flew over to me and landed on my head. Emmaline crawled up my arm and clung to my shoulder. I laughed, running my finger over Emmaline’s scales.

“Did you tell them to do this?” I asked.

“No,” Willow said. “They just love you more than they love us.”

“They literally do.” Luz coaxed Stringbean out of her overalls pocket and the palisman came over to me and coiled herself around my arm. “See?” Luz turned to the others. “She even slept on his bed last night.”

Gus gasped. “Betrayal!” He put his hand over his heart and pretend to be shocked by Stringbean’s disloyalty. “Palisman parenting is a thankless job.”

Their palismen do love me. But they don’t usually hang all over me that much unless something is wrong. Maybe they could sense my anxiety. Maybe Clover and Emmaline just missed me because it had been a few days since I saw them. Or maybe they had some way of knowing what was going to happen.

After Amity arrived (and Ghost rubbed her face all over my feet and ankles), we headed to town. I’m pretty sure we all thought it was just a regular day. There haven’t been many events since we started reconstruction. What were the chances there would be one today? 

Really good, apparently.

As we landed, we saw a banner for the Student/Creature Association Revelry Fete, only the banner just said “SCARF” and I didn’t see the F at first so I thought we were walking into an event called “SCAR.” The SCARF was apparently planned to give families something to do since school was over, which meant that a shit-ton of people from Hexside were there. We could see some of them from a distance.

“How could I forget about SCARF?” Gus shook his head. A few tiny illusion versions of himself appeared and also shook their heads in disappointment.

“We could just come back some other time?” Willow looked at me with a sad smile.

I, genius teen prodigy that I am, decided to go in anyway. “Let’s get this over with.”

When we first walked in, a few students came up to us, mostly to say hi to the renowned hero Luz the Human. Similar to the beginning of the week, they all avoided looking at me, even while talking to my friends. I took my hair tie out and pulled it onto my wrist.

“Hey, Hunter!”

I froze at the sound of a loud, unfamiliar voice.

“What’s it like being a grimwalker?”

Fuck. People around us starting looking in our direction.

I heard Gus say a soft, “ oh no .” I followed his gaze to figure out who or what he was talking about, but the crowd was too thick to tell. My friends came in closer around me, taking defensive poses. I clenched my hands into fists. I heard the witches and demons around us start talking about me, not even attempting a polite whisper.

“Is that the guy from the poster?”

“What’s a grimwalker?”

“Grimwalker? We should call security.”

Willow put a hand on my shoulder but I flinched away. Everything and everyone felt like they were closing in on me. It was like a nightmare I’ve had a dozen times before. Luz started arguing with the crowd, but I could barely hear her. All the escape routes I had gone through in my mind vanished. I could’ve asked one of the palismen to fly me out but that would’ve made the palismen hunting rumors worse. I couldn’t think, let alone speak. People—my friends, the crowd, whoever—were saying my name. I didn’t move.

Eventually, someone (Gus, I realized later) grabbed my hand and started pulling me away from the crowd. The buildings and festival stands moved by in a blur. I was basically being dragged out by my friend. I couldn’t focus my eyes on anything. It felt like I was dreaming and had reached the part when I was supposed to wake up.

We made it to the outskirts of town. I was pulled between two buildings, then I saw Gus in front of me. He was holding up his fingers and asking me to breathe. I focused on that, breathing in as he put up fingers and exhaling as he put them down. After a few minutes of that, I came to my senses enough to realize it was just me and him.

“Where are the others?” I managed to ask.

“They were distracting the crowd so I could get you out of there,” Gus said. “We’re supposed to meet them back at the house.”

I tried to remembered what anyone said or did. Even now, hours later, I’m not exactly sure what happened. By the time we got back to the Owl House, I was thinking more clearly. Amity, Luz, Willow, Eda, and King were all waiting for me and Gus in the living room. They all looked at me like I was supposed to say something.

“Uh, hi?” I said.

“Hunter, I’m so sorry.” Luz was the first to speak. “I shouldn’t’ve pressured you, I’m sorry I didn’t believe you, if I had just listened—”

“Luz.” I held my hand up. “It’s not your fault.”

She hung her head. She’s always taking the blame for shit other people do. I needed her to know this had nothing to do with her.

“What did people say?” I asked.

They all went from looking at me to looking at literally anything else.

“I want—I need to know.” I really felt like I did. It’s better to know than to wonder.

My friends did their best to recall what they heard. According to them, it started with people asking each other about grimwalkers and what those are and what I was doing there. Then, a few people started acting scared. It was mostly parents, afraid I would eat their kids or whatever, and when parents get scared, their kids get scared too. It got even worse when someone yelled about me coming for their palismen. I asked if anyone had seen who said that, but none of them knew. After they told me as much as they were willing to share, I excused myself to my room. 

Alone, I immediately broke down. I fought the urge to scream, to break something, to bang my head against the wall. I wanted to pull my hair off, rip my skin off. I settled for taking off my gloves and dug my fingernails into the palm of my hand. What if they’re right? What if I hurt someone again? What if I lose control? My thoughts spiraled. I couldn’t stop them. I scratched harder. I dug my nails in until I looked down and saw blood. 

I swear, I didn’t mean to. Not this time.

Still, the laceration was something I could fix. Something familiar. 

I learned how to treat my own wounds after Belos stopped letting me go to the healing coven. I learned to sew my own stitches. My early attempts made the scarring worse, but didn’t take too long to improve. Sewing stitches and wrapping bandages became routine. I was even able to help some fellow coven scouts back when I was still allowed to go on group missions. 

I took my first aid kit from its place at the end of my bed. Since getting it back thanks to Darius, I’ve added supplies and thrown out the old needles. Included in those supplies is a box of colorful band-aids from Camila’s house.

Even though all this scratch required was a band-aid, the process of opening the kit, finding the right tool, and applying it to a wound was as comfortable as getting to sleep with my old pillow again. 

I think it was that familiarity that made me think of him. 

But I didn’t feel angry. I wasn’t even scared. I was just, I don’t know, sad. Like I missed him. Like I wished he was here to tell me believed in my and that he knows I can do better next time.

Why would I want that? 

What is wrong with me?

By the time I was sticking on my purple band-aid and putting my gloves back on, I was done crying. I wish I could say I was done with that feeling, too.

Exhausted, I curled up on my mattress and looked at the grain of the wood panels. I could hear the occasional muffled voice coming from downstairs. I considered going back down to let them know I was okay, but I fell asleep before I could decide.

In my dream, I was a kid again, sitting across from Belos in his study. He was teaching me how to sew, not my flesh but the hem of a shirt. Take your time, Hunter , he said. If you try to rush it, you could hurt yourself.

It was a warm memory that never happened. He never cared if I hurt myself as long as I did what he needed me to. The scars that accumulated on my hands from needle pricks or “training accidents” never fazed him. Actually, before I left the coven,the only person who ever bothered asking me what had happened to my hands was Raine. I was late to a meeting of the head witches and forgot my gloves. Raine saw my hands, the only exposed part of my body, and asked like it was a casual question. “Golden Guard,” they said. “I don’t mean to pry, but I’m curious—how did you hurt your hands?”

If they had been anyone else, I would’ve snapped something about disrespect and crossing a line. But they caught me off guard, so instead I made up a dumb-sounding lie and then excused myself from the conversation. After that, I never left my room bare-handed.

I woke up this evening with the dream and that memory burning in my mind. It took a few minutes to remember where I was, when I was. I rolled over and saw Luz sitting against the wall reading one of my Cosmic Frontier books. King was asleep on her mattress.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Luz said when she saw that I was awake. “How are you feeling?”

I tried to say, “Exhausted,” but it came out as a mumbled, “Ehssmmmmshhhh.”

“Understandable.” She set the book down and came over to me. She asked if she could sit beside me, so I sat up and made room.

“I’m sorry,” I said as she moved in beside me.

“It’s not your fault either, hermano. ” She pulled the blanket over her legs and rested against my shoulder. “Can we just…talk about something else?”

“Yeah, of course.” I thought for a second, trying to pry my mind from Belos or the grimwalker situation. Then I thought of something Luz would definitely be interested to know. “Willow kissed me last week.”

“WHAT?” Luz sat up and looked at me, eyes shining. “Tell me everything. Right. Now.”

I laughed. “Relax, it was just a forehead kiss.”

“That’s still a kiss, and you still have to tell me everything.”

I told her about how sick I got and how Willow came over and hung out with me and how I slept for 19 hours and then I deliriously called her pretty and then she kissed my gross sweaty forehead.

“So when are you two actually gonna go out together?” Luz teased.

“I don’t know.” I put my face in my hands. “I don’t know how to ask someone on a date. I didn’t even know what a date was until six months ago!”

“Have you asked Hoo—”

I slapped my hand over her mouth before she could finish that sentence. “Do not . Amity told me about that whole basement thing.”

She peeled my hand away from her face. “Well, it worked out for us, didn’t it?”

“I can’t ask her out right now anyway,” I said. “Not until I figure out how to not be socially ostracized and/or killed. I don’t want her to get hurt.”

This time, Luz didn’t deny the possibility of violence towards me. She fidgeted with the hem of my blanket. “Maybe…maybe you could come stay with me and Mama for a while. You know, until this shit dies down a bit.”

“What if it doesn’t die down?”

“Then we’ll organize a grimwalker acceptance campaign and punch the teeth out of whoever started it.”

“Finally, a decent plan.” I sunk down so I could rest my head on her shoulder. “Would Camila be okay with me staying with you all?”

“Uh, yeah. She’s been asking when you’re going to come home.”

That was how she phrased it: come home .

“I know you were super busy before, but now is kinda the perfect time. Vee and I still have school, but we have plenty of time to hang out after and you never sleep at night anyway.”

I wanted to say yes. I want to go back to Camila’s house and watch movies and play video games with Luz and Vee and make stuff with the sewing machine and go to the zoo and feel normal. 

“I can’t.” I tried to come up with the words to explain why, but it didn’t even make sense to me. I could spend 2 weeks with the Nocedas and forget about being outed as a grimwalker. But I wouldn’t forget. “I can’t just run from this.”

Luz looked a little sad, but she said, “I understand. I know realm-hopping can’t fix our problems.”

“I appreciate you offering. Really.”

“It’s a standing offer,” she said. “Your sorry ass is always welcome in our house.”

I snorted. “I’m pretty sure Eda told me the same thing.”

“Who do you think I learned it from?”

Today was shit. I’m glad it’s over. But tomorrow, I’ll have to wake up make a plan. I can’t hide in the Owl House or the Noceda House. I’m going to go out there and figure out who did this and why.  I swear it.

And once this is over, I’ll go home with Luz. I promise you that.

Hunter

Chapter Text

Dear Flapjack,

It’s been almost a week and I do not know who did this or why.

Gus said I should make a list of my potential enemies and try to narrow down our options. I wrote down a few options (the old coven heads, the ghosts of past Golden Guards who might be angry that I got to live, that one coven scout I sort of/maybe pushed off a mountain, and, of course, Kikimora). King told me that Kikimora at least sort of knew about the grimwalkers, but he wouldn’t tell me how he knew that. Kiki is supposed to be in Palm Stings, and I feel like if she wanted me dead she would (try to) do it herself. I don’t think she’s smart enough to come up with a plan to turn the Hexside student body against me by strategically spreading rumors and designing a poster that gave me fangs. If she wanted power, I think she is smart enough to know no one at Hexside would want anything to do with her.

Amity suggested getting Lilith’s help to get a more accurate history of grimwalkers. I hesitated at first. Asking this of Lilith meant we had to tell her why we all gained a sudden interest in an archaic form of magic that is, at best, considered a myth and at worst universally despised. I still don’t know Lilith that well, at least, not this Lilith. Head Witch Lilith would’ve been right next to Kikimora on the potential enemies list. Eventually I agreed to include the elder Clawthorne sister. She would’ve found out anyway, and she has access to historical records no one else does.

Lilith came over yesterday and I told her everything. She was quiet for quite a while after, drinking an entire cup of tea before responding.

“I had…no idea,” she said. “I know the Emperor was bad, but this?” She shook her head in disbelief. “Hunter, I’m so sorry.”

“It wasn’t your—“

“I know.” She interrupted me. “That isn’t what I mean. What I’m saying is that you deserved better.”

“Oh,” I said.

“He treated you like you were a tool. He used you like a weapon instead of caring for you as a child, and you didn’t deserve that.”

“Oh,” I said again. It was strange to hear all this coming from her. I’ve been told similar things before, mostly by my friends, but hearing it now and from Lilith, it made me feel weird. I don’t know if I believe her.

“Anyway.” Lilith cleared her throat and changed the subject. “How can I help with your current situation?”

I explained Amity’s idea to gather more accurate information, and I showed her the pages that had been snuck into my locker. She took them with her to use as a starting point for research, and she thanked me for trusting her. I thanked her for agreeing to help. After she left, I had the thought to ask her if she thought any of the other ex-coven heads would do this. Maybe I’ll get the chance to ask later.

One last thing: I do have a bad idea that might not be entirely stupid. I’m writing it down here so I can read it tomorrow with a (potentially) less exhausted brain. I think that maybe we should break into* go to Hexside and search for clues. I saw something similar in a movie we watched in the human realm, and I’ve been told movies aren’t necessarily accurate representations of reality, but what if there is something we can find at the school? Maybe whoever did it left a bunch of extra posters in their locker, and if we could find their locker we could figure out whose locker it is and therefore who made the posters and then figure out why they decided they want to ruin my life.

Or we might just find security ghouls and get expelled. 

I’ll ask the others what they think. In person, of course. In that same movie, the characters found out their private messages had been hacked by the main villain, and who knows if the same thing could happen to our Penstagram group chat?

But hey, I’ve snuck into Hexside before! I lived there for like 3 days before getting caught! 

What’s the worst that could happen?

Hunter

Chapter Text

Dear Flapjack,

I fucked up

They were right about

I’m sorry

It’s happening again

Everything has been my

I can’t stay

I’ve been sitting here for an hour trying to figure out how to write this down.

Maybe it would be easier if your name wasn’t staring from the page.

But I can’t cross you out. 

My hunch about finding clues at Hexside was correct. I told Gus about my idea first. He said it was risky, but considering we didn’t have anything else to go off of, it seemed like a decent option. He said we should bring Willow and Amity. I agreed.

I told Eda that the three of them would be sleeping over. In hindsight, I should’ve told her about the plan. With her flagrant disregard for rules and school in general, she might've helped, or she would've stopped us from going thanks to her parental instincts. But we didn't tell Eda, so she didn't help and I led my friends into a trap.

After Eda went to bed, the four of us took the first step of the plan and climbed out my window. Hooty was out of the house with Lilith and Eda will sleep through anything, but I still thought going through the door would be too risky. King sleeps in the weird places sometimes and we didn't need to blow our cover by tripping over him on our way down the hall.

The plan didn’t really come together until Willow mentioned something that happened a couple of weeks ago: the abomination lab disaster. It was the first in a series of weird things happening in different tracks' homerooms. I missed most of them while I was sick. According to the others, the healing homeroom was next. Some of their equipment got enchanted and started moving its own. The students and faculty present believed it to be a harmless if annoying prank, but later, it was found that some spell components and potion ingredients had gone missing. That happened the day I started feeling sick. The next day, the bard track came in and found that all their instruments were out of tune. Evidently, it’s not abnormal for Hexside students to be especially troublesome right before finals. Since no one had gotten hurt, finding the culprits was not a priority.

The final “prank” was someone using illusion magic to project Principal Bump’s voice over the loudspeaker and call for a fake assembly. Everyone showed up to an empty gymnasium, confused until Bump finally showed up and told everyone to go back to class because he didn’t actually call for an assembly. To the best of my friends’ recollection, the person on the loudspeaker said the assembly was being called to go over new safety protocols.

Hearing about that made me wonder. “When exactly did you guys first catch wind of the rumors about me?”

“I overheard something the next morning while I was sorting abomination ingredients,” Amity said.

“A couple of upperclassmen were talking about you when I went into the illusions homeroom after the ‘assembly,’” Gus said. “They changed the subject as soon as they saw me.”

Willow didn’t respond right away. “Skara asked me if I knew where you were and then asked if the rumors were true. I didn't know what she was talking about. She explained, I told her that was all bullshit, and she told me if I was going to keep hanging out with you, I should be careful anyway." Her cheeks turned pink. I'm not the sure why; she's not the one who should be feeling embarrassed.

I focused my attention on the mystery in front of me, putting my personal thoughts and feelings aside. I could deal with that later. “And no one thought they should prioritize finding out who was sabotaging the homerooms?”

They all shrugged.”Nobody got hurt,” Amity said. “I think administration was more focused on finishing the trimester with the school intact.” 

“And the rumors about me started after the fake-out assembly?”

“I guess so.” Amity looked at the page of notes I was taking. “You think it’s all connected?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “But I don’t have any other ideas.” I wrote out a basic plan, one that I hoped would be give us enough time to search the affected homerooms and labs and get back to the house before sunrise. It had been a long time since I planned a mission. It was one of my favorite parts of my job. It’s kind of like solving a puzzle, thinking through the objectives and what steps to take to achieve them and creating contingency plan for when something inevitably goes wrong. I wasn’t fully satisfied with this plan. My old missions usually had tangible objectives. I knew what or who I was looking for. We were going to be searching for evidence we couldn't be sure existed.

- Sneak out after Eda goes to sleep.
- Enter the main school building through the gorenado shelter tunnel that connects to the locker rooms.
- Split into pairs and investigate the homerooms with which each person is most familiar.
- Reconvene in the away-team locker room no later than 2AM. If the other pair does not return by that time, assume they have made an emergency exit and return to the Owl House.
- If security (or anyone else) approaches, leave through the nearest exit. If there is no exit available, hide as best as you can. Do not let your guard down.
- Confrontation is a last resort only.

Looking down at Hexside from Willow’s staff, it was almost like looking at a mountain, like any other natural part of the Titan. Large, imposing, unmoving. The campus is usually crawling with activity. It’s been a long time since I’ve been inside the school after hours. I tried not to think about the first time I broke into Hexside. I reminded myself that this was different. I wasn’t running from anyone. I was with my friends. I didn’t have anything to lose. I’d already decided that, if we ended up getting in trouble with Bump, I would take the fall. It’s not like I was going to be whole-heartedly welcomed back after the break anyway. I didn’t tell the others about that part of the plan.

We entered the locker room without any issues. Amity and Gus went to investigate the abomination and illusion homerooms; Willow and I headed to the plant homeroom. 

Everything seemed normal at first. I’ve been in there a few times, whenever Willow wants to show me whatever cool project she’s working on. I could sit in there for hours listening to her talk about plants.

It didn’t feel so inviting in the dark. The light that usually pours through the curved windows was replaced with the faint glow of stars. The absence of students left the room near silent. As we walked in, all I could hear was our footsteps and the groaning of plants. We closed the door behind us. Willow asked Clove to provide some light and she obliged.

“Do you see anything weird?” I asked Willow.

“Not really. It sorta smells different, though,” she answered, sniffing the air.

“Different how?”

She stood on guard and turned around to see the whole room. “Like evenshade nettles.”

“What is that?”

“Something that’s not supposed to be here.”

I followed close behind her as she walked through the room examining the plants. “It’s a mutation of sleeping nettles,” Willow said. “I only know what it smells like because Professor Fael showed me how to destroy it. They were all supposed to be destroyed.”

I tried to remember if I’d heard of evenshade before. Nothing came to mind. The room didn’t smell that unusual to me, maybe a little sour, but I can't identify plants by smell. “What’s wrong with them?”

“It’s a weed designed to take over every plant that comes into contact with it. Instead of killing other plants it, well, it possesses them.” Again. she sniffed the air like she was trying to find the source. “It overtakes them, and it keeps spreading from there.”

“Yeah, that sounds bad.”

We came back around to the entrance. Willow inspected the last section, the one reserved for her projects. She handed her staff to me and created two green spell circles in front of her. I stood back as she put her hands through the circles and reached to touch the largest plant in the plot, a well-trained fairytrap. I’ve seen her do this at least a dozen times. It’s how she checks in with her plants to see what they need and how they’re feeling. But this time, as soon as her hands made contact with the towering flytrap, she flinched away like it had shocked her. I dashed to her side.

“Captain! What’s wrong?”

“It must be the evenshade.” She tried to cast a spell on her plants, but nothing happened. “Oh no. No no no no no.” She tried again. “We have to seal off—”

The fairytrap snapped out at us, narrowly missing our heads before I got us out of the way. From a somewhat safe distance, I saw the plant change from greens and reds and purples to a sickly shade of gray. The plants surrounding it were turning too. The fairytrap grew twice its size, snapping furiously at us. It wasn’t hard to dodge its attacks, but none of Willow spells could control it. She turned her focus to the uninfected plants, creating vines that wrapped around the trap, holding it back.

“We need to get out of here!’ Willow grabbed my hand and sprinted for the door. As she reached for the handle, I turned back a split second before vines, now turned brown, snapped out at me. I sidestepped and its thorns grazed my shoulder, tearing my shirt.

“Hunter!” Willow slid in front of me as the vines reached out again. One of them wrapped around her left arm, but she pulled it off with sheer strength. I swung the staff and Clover sent a wave of burning yellow light at the infected plants. It held them back long enough for us to get out. Willow slammed the door shut and locked it. She opened a panel next to the door, revealing a series of levers and switches. It took me a second to figure out what she was doing, but then I saw the cracks of the door-frame fill with green light. She flipped several switches, finally pulling a red cord that caused the plant homeroom to fill with thick steam. Whatever it was seemed to burn the plants inside.

Willow’s eyes watered, a tear streaking down her cheek. “I’m sorry,” she said to the plants. There was blood staining the sleeve of her shirt, bright red against yellow.

“You’re bleeding,” I said, reaching for the roll of bandages in my belt bag.

She shook her head. “We have to leave,” she said. “I don’t want to meet whoever planted those nettles.”

I didn’t argue. Pain radiated through my back and shoulder. I could deal with that later. We ran in the direction of our planned exit, the one that would take us back to the locker rooms, and hoped Amity and Gus were fairing better.

They were not.

There was a loud crash as we passed the theater hall, followed by the sound of someone screaming.

“Was that…?” Willow came to a halt and looked back. In answer to her question, the sound of Amity’s voice ricocheted into the hallway.

“Get away from him!” she shouted. “I said GET. AWAY.”

Willow and I ran into the theater. Amity was standing in front of us by the back row of seats, spell circles raised. Gus was suspended above the stage, his hands tied by vines. The way he looked reminded me of the Collector’s puppets. Amity didn’t see me and Willow come in before she charged at the platform, her hand engulfed in purple flames. Willow and I followed her. Everything happened so fast. I couldn’t tell if Gus was conscious. I couldn’t tell if Amity knew who or where she was aiming for. She set the stage on fire.

“What’s going on?” Willow yelled. Startled, Amity turned as raised her fire at us before realizing who was in front of her.

“Can’t explain.” Amity returned her attention to the stage. She jumped up and used abomination goo to lift herself to Gus. The fire was spreading. Amity took Gus in her arms. As she moved him, the vines, the regular green and not gray, caught fire. Amity jumped from the stage, holding Gus over her shoulder. “Let’s go,” she said.

We sprinted for the exit we’d come through, the only escape not blocked by a wall of fire. Amity passed Gus to me and stood side-to side with Willow. “Protect him,” she told me.

The theater doors broke open, pull apart by vines from the other side. I ducked behind a row of benches and set Gus to down. I checked to make sure he was breathing, relieved when I saw the almost imperceptible rise and fall of his chest. I couldn’t see any injuries.

I held tight to Willow’s staff, my only means of offensive magic. On the other side of the benches, Amity and Willow held off the barrage of attacking plants. I couldn’t see the witch on the other side, but I knew Willow was more than a match for any plant witch. Sure enough, she and Amity managed to push the attack back long enough for us to get out. I hoisted Gus over my shoulder, wincing at the streak of pain from the evenshade cuts, and followed the girls into the corridors.

None of us were in a state to run. I walked behind to cover our backs. Willow’s arm was still bleeding. There were cuts on Amity’s face and legs. One of them must’ve pulled the fire alarm; water began spraying from the ceiling. At least the whole school wouldn’t burn down. We weren’t far from our exit, and I almost thought we could get out without further incident. Then I heard footsteps behind us. I turned on my heel in time to see the witch racing toward us before they could attack. I swung a blast of light from Clover’s staff, knocking the witch off their feet. I passed Gus to Amity.

“Get him out of here,” I said.  My instincts to fight were kicking in, stronger than I’d felt in ages. “I’ll handle this one.”

“We can all—”

“ Go! ” I shouted. “Both of you!”

They hesitated for one more second before taking off with Gus. I needed them to get to safety. Something told me I would be able to take this witch on by myself, at least long enough for my friends to get out.

The one advantage of growing up as a powerless witch is that I became far better at hand-to-hand combat than my peers. I had to hold my own against full witches to earn my place in the coven, and I had to do it without magic, artificial or otherwise. Most witches depend on long-range spells and are rarely prepared to get up close and personal. My combat skills combined with the palisman magic I had now meant I was more than able to take on a single witch.

They weren’t willing to go down without a fight. Their magic was powerful, but they were clearly no match for Willow. I kept my distance, dodging each of their vines and thorns. The pain crawling from my shoulder, down my arm, and across my back was worsening, but it just made me angrier. When the witch paused for just a second to catch their breath, I sprang into action. I kicked their feet out from under them. I wasn’t thinking anymore, just fighting. A small part of me was telling me to just get them down long enough to run away and to get the hell out. But whoever this was hurt Gus and Amity. They hurt Willow. I wanted to hurt them back.

The witch was regaining some ground but still narrowly missing me with each spell. I dashed around, making them spin in circles to try to keep up with me. I saw my opportunity and I took it. I came up behind them and swung my staff at their head. I head a cracking sound and they collapsed. The fighting rush was still in my veins. 

I think I would’ve killed them. If I hadn’t seen Clover at that exact moment, I wouldn’t have stopped until I knew that witch was dead.

But Clover. There was a crack down her back. She wasn’t bleeding, but she was hurt. I snapped out of whatever haze I was in and ran.

Willow, Amity, and Gus were waiting for me in the locker room. Gus was awake, thank titan, sitting against the wall with Amity holding a cup of water for him. 

“Hunter!” Willow ran and hugged me. It hurt. I was too dazed to reciprocate.

“Willow,” I said. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” I held out her staff and Clover flew into Willow’s arms. Willow’s eyes widened when she saw her palisman’s injury. “It was an accident,” I said.

“Clover…” Willow pet the back of her head. “Are you okay? It’s okay, I’m here now.” 

I don’t know why I thought it. Maybe it was the pain. The adrenaline rush. The fear. Whatever it was, as Willow cradled Clover and carried her away, I remembered, or I thought— damn it . I can’t write this down. I shouldn’t have even thought it. Why did I? Why did I get that…that urge ?

I backed away from the others, sat on a bench, and tried to pull myself back together. I just needed to get back to the house. I needed to shower and sleep this off. I needed to tend to the wound on my back. I didn’t want to let Willow do that. She offered to help. I don’t want to take my shirt off in front of anyone, especially her. She did let me look at the slashes on her forearm. The blood was dried, making it look worse than it actually was. I told her we needed to clean it before we could bandage it.

We flew back to the Owl House. I rode with Gus and Willow with Amity. They said they think Clover will be okay, that Owlbert had gotten a similar injury before and recovered just fine. But I couldn’t stop thinking about you, Flapjack. About how it was my hands that–that—

Now my friends are asleep upstairs. They’re hurt because of me. I asked them to break into Hexside. They did it to help me. And now they’re hurt. Now Clover is hurt. And I can’t trust myself to be awake and alone with their palismen. 

In the morning, I’ll have to tell Eda what happened. I’m fighting the urge to run away. Even if I wasn’t in so much pain, it’s not like I have anywhere else to go. I can’t leave. I can’t…I can’t stay. I’m so tired. I can’t keep doing this. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.

Hunter

Chapter Text

Dear Flapjack,

Sometimes I think about how dead I would if it wasn’t for you.

There’s the obvious: I would’ve stayed dead on Halloween. But let’s be real, if it wasn’t for you, he would’ve killed me way sooner than that, on the Day of Unity at the latest. But almost definitely before that. Unless I never found out about how he was lying to me for my entire artificially constructed life and that I was the last in a long line of corpses used as playthings, in which case I probably would have died by draining spell while still believing he loved me.

But I survived. And you died. And he died.

It’s tearing me apart. One half is holding on to my friends, my new family, the things that I like and love. The other half is tied to, you know, everything else. And it hurts so bad. My skin literally hurts most of the time, and I’m so used to it that it hardly feels worth mentioning. I avoid the touch of others. I don’t tell them why. They’ve gotten used to keeping their distance, and now I can’t ask for a hug when I need it the most. I think that hurts worse than the scars. That old familiar loneliness comes crawling back every chance it gets. 

I don’t know why I’m still here.

I’ve been asking the same question for months. I spent most of my life with a definite answer. I was born created with the answer painted on my face. I was a tool. At least a tool knows its purpose, even if it’s disposable. Replaceable. He phrased that in such a strange way; “It would be such a hassle to find a replacement.” Difficult, but not impossible. An inconvenience, but not inconceivable. Throwing me out was always an option.

I keep telling myself that other people don’t see me that way. I know that they don’t. But maybe they’re wrong. I’ve served my purpose. I served it at the bottom of a lake in the human realm. I’ve felt like I’m drowning ever since.

Now, I’m locked inside the Owl House. I guess all cages feel the same, even though Eda is doing this to keep me safe and not to “teach me a lesson.” As if I ever learned anything from sitting alone in an empty room for hours on end. This really isn’t the same as back then, though. I have my belongings, except for the sharp ones. I’m not alone, and I can go to the other parts of the house as long as someone else is close by. Eda gets on edge whenever I’m out of earshot. This is such an over-reaction. It’s not like I was actually going to do anything. 

Yesterday morning, when Eda woke up and saw the state we were in, we told her everything. Amity told her about getting separated from Gus while they were in the illusion track homeroom, how she found him in the theater hall, unconscious and wrapped in vines. Gus didn’t remember anything after going into the homeroom. Willow told her about what happened with the plants. Eda had never heard of evenshade either. I was quiet, trying to focus on what my friends were saying instead of the growing pain in my shoulder. I didn’t have anything to add until we got to the end of the story, when I stayed behind to fight the masked plant witch.

“I fought them off while the others got out,” I said. “I hit them in the head with Clover and then ran to catch up. But, uh…” My face burned; I felt like crying. “I hurt Clover. Accidentally.”

“She’s okay,” Willow interjected. “Just a little banged up, but so are the rest of us.”

After we finished telling her the whole story, Eda made us breakfast. Willow, Gus, and Amity worried about what they were going to tell their parents. Eda promised not to snitch if they didn’t want her to, as long as we all swore we wouldn’t ever do anything like that without telling her. 

“I’m not mad,” she said. “I’m just worried. Any one of you could’ve been even more seriously hurt or killed . I know you weren’t expecting to have company last night, but if you’re going to run off in the middle of the night without adult supervision, you have to be prepared for the worst.” She continued, “I am going to tell Raine and the CATs. Whatever that witch was doing, it’s obviously nothing good. Do you have any idea why they were there?”

None of us did. We have no clue who that plant witch even was. I’m tired of wracking my brain trying to figure out why any of this is happening.

Before they left, I tried to apologize to my friends for putting them in danger. They said it wasn’t my fault, which was nice of them and also blatantly false. Once they were gone, I was going to go to my room and sleep for a few hours or maybe forever, but the Owl Lady wasn’t about to let me off that easy.

“Hold up, kid,” Eda said, her words bringing me to a halt halfway up the stairs. “We’re not done talking about this.”

“Well, I have nothing else to say,” I told her. “I’m going to sleep.”

“Willow told me you got sliced up by that freak plant. She also said you wouldn’t let anyone else help you take care of it.”

“That’s because I can handle it myself.” I started walking up the stairs again.

She grabbed my shoulder. The pain I had pushed to the back of my mind spiked. I audibly gasped and pulled away so aggressively that I landed on the stairs. I struggled to breathe, hissing through my teeth on every exhale. Eda crouched beside me and for a second I thought she was going to say I told you so .

“I am so sorry,” she said instead. “Is that where you got hit?”

I nodded, too pained to speak.

“Take your time, kiddo.” She held her hand out to me and I took it. I didn’t try to get up right away. I squeezed her hand and caught my breath, even though I couldn’t take full inhales without making it worse. After a minute or so, she helped me sit upright and then brought me back to the living room. She made King get off the couch  directed me to lie face-down with my left shoulder on the outside.

“What’s wrong?” King asked. “Can I help?”

“Yeah, get us a bucket of warm water and some rags. And then grab one of those green potions from the cabinet.” Eda pulled the table closer and sat down on it. “I know you didn’t want help, and I’m not going to force you to do anything,” she said. “But if those cuts are on your back, then you can’t take care of them yourself.”

I wanted to argue, but I knew she was right.

“Do you think you can manage sitting up long enough to take your arm out of your shirt?”

I grit my teeth and did what she asked. If I could ignore the pain all night and all morning, I could ignore it long enough to pull my arm out of my sleeve and undershirt and pull the hem up to my neck, careful to only expose my back. Eda gave a low whistle.

“It’s that bad?” I asked.

King showed up with the water and rags before Eda could answer.

“Which potion did you want?” He wrung his little hands.

“The green ones on the top shelf. You’ll probably need the step ladder. Don’t break anything.”

He scampered off and Eda returned her attention to me. “Yeah, Hunter. It looks pretty bad.”

It had to have been serious for Eda to call me by my name instead of kiddo.

“Willow said you got hit by the same plant she did, but her arm did not look like this.” She dipped the rag into the water. “I’m going to clean off the blood and stuff. It’s gonna hurt, so brace yourself. Are you ready?”

I clenched my fists. “Yeah, I’m ready,” I said.

I had tried to wash the wound in the shower earlier, but either it started bleeding again without me noticing or I did a shit job cleaning it. The cloth stung bad, but the water was at least a little bit soothing.

“I think it may be infected,” Eda said as she finished cleaning the wound. I caught a glimpse of the rag as she hung it over the bucket. It was stained dark red and brown. “The veins around the cuts are turning red, and black where it’s worse. I don’t know if I have the skill to heal this myself.”

“I can’t see a healer,” I said reflexively. “Can we try to do it ourselves?”

“We can try, but if this gets any worse…”

King came back with the potion. Eda inspected it to make sure it was the right one and gave King an appreciative head scratch. He really is the cutest little god. 

“Listen, blondie,” Eda said to me. “I’m gonna do what I can with potions, and I’m gonna see if I can get some higher quality salve or something from a healer. What I’ve got for now is this.” She held up the green potion. “It’ll help with the pain and get you to sleep. It might make you a little loopy, and I’m only giving you a little bit. If you end up needing more, tell me.” She poured the liquid into a tiny cup and helped me sit up so I could swallow it. It tasted as bad as I expected it would and burned my throat. As we made our way upstairs, I could feel it starting to work. 

“You know,” I said as the pain subsided. “I totally could’ve done it myself if I could reach it.”

“I’m sure that’s true,” she said.

“I’ve had a lot of practice.”

“Is that so?”

“Mhmm. My ‘uncle’ gave me plenty of learning opportunities.” Whatever was in that potion took away my ability to keep my mouth shut.

Eda stopped. We were at the top of the stairs. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, you know. Whenever I fucked up, I had to learn from my mistakes.” I pantomimed a slashing motion. “Whoosh! You know. Whenever I deserved it. Ha. I probably deserve it now.”

She stared at me, probably concerned. I couldn’t really tell. Then she half-carried me the rest of the way to my bed. “You don’t deserve to be hurt, kiddo,” she said as she eased me down.

“Why not? I hurt my friends. I hurt Clover. I fucked up. I’m a fuck up.” I think I was slurring my words. I probably sounded crazy. “It’d be better for them if I just– poof– disappeared, you know? I think I’ve done enough. I think I’d be better off—”

“Hunter,” Eda said; she sounded scared. “You’re not thinking clearly. You’re going to sleep this off, okay? Don’t say anything stupid.”

I think I said “okay,” but I might’ve fallen asleep before I could.

My dreams were vivid. They started in the school, replaying everything that happened except I couldn’t react right. In the part in the plant room, I couldn’t get Willow out before the evenshade took over the whole room and us. In the theater, everything was on fire. I tried to get Gus out, but he got pinned under a row of burning seats. I turned and saw Amity fighting off a faceless shape. She called to me for help. I didn’t make it in time.

That was all the regular stuff, the kind of dream I would expect to have after what happened.

The scene changed from the burning theater hall to an empty corridor. I was alone at first. Then Clover flew in from behind me. I could tell she wanted me to follow her, so I did. As I walked, I started to feel the pain in my shoulder and scars. It felt like my skin was being ripped apart. I stumbled and fell to the ground. Clover turned and came back for me, and I saw my hands reach out and grab her from the air. She made panicked sounds. I couldn’t control what I was doing. I watched myself…I saw…myself break her. I felt myself inhale the green fog of her life. The pain in my body evaporated. I was left holding her lifeless and broken pieces.

“Hunter?”

I turned and saw that Willow was behind me. She didn’t look scared; she looked horrified and disgusted. I tried to say her name but no sound came out of my mouth.

“What is wrong with you?” She moved closer to me. “Wasn’t one palisman enough?” She sounded angry and sad. “I can’t believe I trusted you. You’re not my friend. You’re just–”

“The Golden Guard.” Luz finished Willow’s sentence. I turned and saw her coming towards me. She held her staff, Stringbean, and pointed it at my chest. “I know what Philip did with those palismen. What you did with palismen. You can’t hide forever. Everyone will know, just like everyone knows you’re a grimwalker .”

At the sound of that word, they all vanished. I was alone in the silent darkness, willing myself to wake up. Then I heard footsteps behind me.

“There you are.” 

“U-Uncle!” I turned and knelt in front of him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s all right,” Belos said. He held out his hand and helped me up. “But next time, I’d appreciate if you ask before taking one of the palismen for yourself.”

“But I didn’t want to take any,” I said. “I don’t want to!”

“You may not want to, Hunter.” He stroked my cheek and tucked my hair behind my ear. “But you can’t decide what you need .”

He started to walk away from me. As he did, the pain came back. I fell to my knees and reached out for him. “Wait!” I said. “Don’t go. I’m sorry. Please.”

He didn’t stop.

“No, dad! Don’t leave me! Please!”

He kept walking into the shadows until he disappeared entirely. I crumpled into a ball on the floor, shaking from the pain of the infection and the humiliation of calling him that word.

I woke up alone in my room. There were tears on my face. It was dark outside. I wanted to die even more than I had before. I wanted to forget about the dream. I wanted to make it stop. I guess it probably is a good thing that Eda took the first aid kit out of my room while I was asleep. It’s probably a good thing that King came to check on me a few minutes after I woke up. 

I’m still here. For you, Flapjack.

Hunter

Chapter Text

Dear Flapjack,

When the infection got worse, I tried to convince Eda not to get a healer. She told me she knew I was uncomfortable with it, and that even if she doesn’t know my reasons, she has her own to be wary of healers. She did ask what my reasons are, but I didn’t answer. I don’t think I could fully articulate it if I tried. Regardless, I did eventually acquiesce. The pain was unbearable, and it was spreading across my body, the infection turning my veins dark gray.

This healer named Basil came here two days ago. I met them during Hexside construction since they were on-site in case of accidents or injuries. Their healing spells helped with the open wound made by the evenshade’s thorns, but they couldn’t heal the infection. I told them about the evenshade, and they had only heard of the plant in passing, a rumor going around in the healing coven.

I didn’t want to, but I asked for Willow’s help. To be honest, I’ve been avoiding her. I’m already bad at messaging, but I didn’t respond to any of her Penstagram DMs, not even the funny posts she sent. I felt bad asking for a favor now, but as far as I know, she’s one of the only people who knows about evenshade at all. So, I told her that something weird was happening to my injury.

“Mine has been healing like normal,” she said when she came over a few hours after Basil left. I had gotten enough pain relief to be able to sit up for more than thirty seconds. When Willow showed me her arm, I didn’t see anything abnormal about her cuts. They were healing well, actually. There were no signs of blackened veins and the pain hadn’t spread outside the point of contact. I didn’t show her my entire back, but I pulled the sleeve of my shirt up so she could see what was happening to my veins.

“Yeah, that is definitely not normal.” She frowned. “This is going to sound weird, but the way it’s spreading kind of looks like roots.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s nothing, probably.” She sat back on the couch and thought for a while. We stayed there in silence. My mind wandered. I felt awkward, being here with her. I wanted to apologize again, but I knew she'd probably just say it wasn’t my fault. I thought about asking her how she’d been the last couple of days, but then she would ask how I had been and the only things I had to talk about were excruciating pain and repetitive nightmares. Before I could decide to say anything, she started talking again.

“The thing about evenshade is that even though it’s extremely dangerous to any plants it comes into contact with, it isn’t harmful to witches—I mean, aside from the basic physical attacks.” She looked at me with a soft expression. “But you aren’t a witch.”

It took me a second to pick up on what she was saying. “You think it might be affecting me differently because I’m… not a witch?” I still have a hard time saying grimwalker out loud. 

“Maybe grimwalkers have more in common with plants than witches do,” Willow said. “So the evenshade poison is affecting you, a lot more slowly than it would a plant, but in a way that wouldn’t happen to a witch.”

“You think it’s trying to take over my body the way it took over the plants at Hexside?” The thought grossed me out.

“I mean, I’m not a healer, I’m just a plant witch, but yeah.”

“You are not ‘just’ a plant witch. If you’re right, maybe we can figure out an antidote for the poison.”

We told Eda about our theory, and she agreed that it was at least worth looking into. She got Basil to come back the next day, and they talked to Willow about possibly combining regular healing magic with treatments for plant diseases. They ended up making something out of healing salve and a diluted mixture of the stuff that killed the homeroom plants, including the evenshade. Basil put a little bit on an unaffected part of my body to make sure it wouldn’t destroy my skin. It stung, but it didn’t leave any sign of damage. Willow left the room while Basil applied the mixture to my arm, shoulder, back, and neck. They did it slowly, carefully monitoring the effects. Even as the salve stung, I could feel the tearing pain of the infection ease up. By the end of the treatment, the pain had receded to the skin and muscles around the cuts.

Since then, the ripping sensation has faded into a dull ache, constant but not unbearable. I haven’t needed Eda’s knock-out elixir. Once she lets me leave the house again, I’m gonna go see Darius to ask him about the investigation. Raine, who has come over every day since the Hexside incident, keeps telling me they’re looking into it and I shouldn’t worry about it. I feel like Darius won’t be as adamant about “protecting me” from all this, especially when he figures out I’m going to keep investigating with or without adult supervision.

I just need to convince Eda to let me out. She obviously knows I’m not giving up on getting to the bottom of this, and I basically told her that, once I can stand up for a prolonged period of time without passing out, I’ll find a way out whether or not she gives me permission.

“As proud as I am that you’re finally sticking up to authority figures,” she said. “I don’t want you going out there and getting yourself hurt.”

“Well, I have to do something before someone else gets hurt.” I was curled up at the end of the couch, fist tapping against my knee. “School is starting in less than a week and we have to find that witch before they do anything worse.”

“Like Raine already told you five times this week, we’re going to take care of it. There are safety measures being put in place at Hexside. The CATs network are all on the lookout for that freak. And you do not need to put yourself in danger just because you think this is somehow your fault.”

“How is it not my fault? They’re targeting me. I brought my friends to Hexside and got them hurt. If they come back and target Hexside again, it’ll be because I couldn’t stop them.” 

“Like brother like sister, I guess.” Eda chuckled. “Look, kid. I know I can’t force you to stay here, and I don’t want to.” She looked at me with an expression I couldn’t read. “But whether you like it or not, I care about you and I can’t let my kid put themself on the chopping block because they’re under the impression that their existence is a problem they have to solve.”

I huffed and looked away.

“You didn’t force your friends to break into Hexside. They chose to go with you because they love you. You hurting yourself or willfully putting yourself in danger isn’t going to make their lives better. You ‘disappearing’ would certainly not make their lives better—or mine.”

I refused to let myself cry. Part of me wanted to believe her, but I don’t know if I’ll ever shake the feeling that any mistake I make or problem I cause should be met with consequences. A failed mission can’t be forgiven without making up for it. What happened at Hexside was worse than a failed mission. I don’t know how to make up for it.

Eda paused for a long time. I couldn’t tell if she was waiting for me to respond, then she said, “Did you know that I’m the reason my dad can’t carve palismen anymore?”

My fist stopped tapping. I did not know that.

“It was the curse, of course, but that didn’t make me feel any better about it. He was blinded and his hands never worked the same way again. I felt guilty about it for decades. I refused to go see him, made excuses why I couldn’t come home or why he couldn’t come here, because I was too ashamed to face what I’d done.”

I thought about when I first met Dell, how the scars on his face and hands reminded me of my own. 

“You wanna know what good that did either of us?” Eda shook her head. “If it wasn’t bad enough that I took away his sight and his hands, I took his daughter away too. He’d forgiven me a hundred times over, but I couldn’t forgive myself. All that did was hurt us both. The fact that I get to be in his life now is something I will never take for granted.”

After I, again, didn’t respond, she stood up. “Wait right there,” she said. “Owlbert, you stay here and make sure the kid doesn’t make a break for it.”

Owlbert flew out of her hair and landed beside me on the arm of the couch. Eda ran upstairs. Owlbert looked at me with wide eyes. I tried not to think about the dreams I’ve been having. He cooed at me, flapping his wings a little bit. I didn’t understand whatever it was he was trying to tell me.

Eda returned moments later. She got on the table in front of me like she was perching on it and then held her hand out. “My dad gave this to me a while back, and it helped me realize that holding onto guilt was keeping anything new from growing. He had found a way forward.” She opened her fist to reveal a kind of seed I’d only seen pictures of. “It’s a—”

“A palistrom seed!” I sat upright. “I’ve never seen one in person. Where did he get it? Are you going to plant it?”

She laughed. “Dang, kid. I didn’t realize you were into trees like that.”

My cheeks burned and I probably turned bright red. “I’ve just, uh, read a lot about palistrom trees. You know, research.”

“I’m sure,” she said. “To answer your question, he got it from the Bat Queen. They’ve been regrowing the old forest. I’ve been holding onto this, trying to figure out the best place to plant it. But I think you should be the one to decide.” She held it out again. Tentatively, I held my hand out. She pressed the seed into my palm; it was warm to the touch. 

“Why me?” I asked.

She shrugged. “It just feels right, I guess.” Owlbert gave a couple of excited hoots, to which Eda said, “Looks like l'il owl boy agrees. I think Dell would, too.”

“Do you really think so?”

“Absolutely. He kept asking about you the last time I stopped by the house, wants to know when you’re gonna visit them again. Plus we had to physically stop him from going after you himself. I think you left quite the impression, blondie.”

I’m not exactly sure how I managed to leave a positive impression on the older Clawthornes, but I decided to take Eda’s word for it. 

Tomorrow, Basil is supposed to come by to see how the infection is healing and maybe apply more salve. Eda said she wants me to stay home until the infection is totally gone. I guess I understand why. I hadn’t realized how much she cares about me. It probably really freaked her out to see me like that, all bloody and pained. The least I could do is stick around until I’m fully healed.

For the first time since our trip to Bonesburough, I feel hopeful. I could almost feel the life inside the seed. I can imagine the towering palistrom forests that were wiped out before I got here, regrowing and becoming a safe place for new life. For now, I’ve put the seed in a little pouch and am keeping it under my pillow. I still can’t believe it. An actual palistrom seed. In my hands.

I know I don’t deserve it. I served the man responsible for the forest’s destruction. I handed palismen over to him even after I learned that they’re living creatures. I didn’t stop until I met you.

You deserve the seed. I’ll plant it for you, Flap. I can at least do that.

Hunter

Chapter Text

Dear Flapjack,

I didn’t ask to be this way. I didn’t ask to exist. If who I am is fundamentally wrong, perverted, disgusting, how can I ever be good?

My body has never actually been mine. It was made from the reused remains of someone who never agreed to this. He never got to choose, and neither did I. My “childhood” was spent on learning how to be the Emperor’s perfect little soldier boy. When I finally got the chance to be a normal teenager, he took it from me. At best, I was a tool, one he used as he pleased and discarded as soon as it got inconvenient. A tool, a weapon, a spare body he 

I woke myself up clawing at my skin, trying to get him out of me. The pain in my scars flares up and I don’t tell anyone because I’m scared the pain means he’s still there. Why can I feel him and not you? You gave me your eyes, your magic, your life. But all I can see is the body he left me with. I’ve always been a walking corpse. Why didn’t you let me die? 

I wish I could rip myself out of this body. Eda was right to take sharp objects away from me.

At some point, I’ll fall back asleep. I may have a nightmare. But I’ll wake up and this will go back to being tolerable. I just have to stop thinking about it long enough to get through a day. Every day. Every fucking day. And then come back to an empty room feeling like a hollowed-out shell. The tearing of my skin, the inexorable feeling that there’s something inside me that isn’t me. No matter how many time I tell myself he’s dead he’s dead he’s dead I can’t get rid of him. I hate him. I miss him. I don’t know what I am without him.

I’m sorry for ranting. I don’t mean to be like this. I’m sorry.

Hunter

Chapter Text

Dear Flapjack,

I finally got Darius to let me in on the investigation. I’d like to say it’s because I convinced him of my maturity and earned his respect. But that didn’t work so I threatened to go back to Hexside on my own. And I meant that. It’s not even because I have a death wish. Mainly it’s that, after so many days sitting around the Owl House, my decision making skills have atrophied. I’ll do anything if it means getting out of this damn house and actually dealing with the problem.

So, against my better judgment, I have agreed to go with Darius and Raine to see Kikimora. Writing it down makes me realize exactly how stupid of an idea this is. I know she can’t kill me, especially since I’m going with Darius Deamonne and Raine Fucking Whispers. Hell, I didn’t need anyone’s help taking her on before. It’s not like she still has access to an abomitron. The unofficial council made sure of that before shipping her off to Palm Stings. 

I thought Eda would be mad that I talked to Darius behind her back the moment she said I could leave the house. I promised I would be back within two hours, and I did follow through on that. This meant I had to take Owlbert. I really didn’t want to. Ever since I had that dream, my stomach turns whenever I see a palisman. I told myself that the dreams and weird urges were just because of my injury, and since that’s almost completely healed, I don’t need to worry about it any more. Still…my hands were shaking so bad I almost lost my grip on the staff multiple times.

Nevertheless, I arrived at Darius’ home on the outskirts of Bonesburough and pounded on his door until he let me in. 

“I thought you were under house arrest,” he said when he saw me. I rolled my eyes and walked past him to go inside.

“Tell me what’s going on with the investigation,” I demanded. “I deserve to know.”

Darius closed the door and crossed his arms. “It’s not about whether or not you deserve to know.”

“Then what is it? Am I supposed to prove myself to you again?” My voice was raising, the anger I’d kept contained coming to the surface. “Do you want me to sit around in my room waiting for someone else to deal with my problems?”

“You really aren’t helping your case here.” He shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. “This ‘problem’ is bigger than you, little prince.”

“Stop calling me that!” I yelled. My voice cracked.

He didn’t respond right away, just stared at me with a slightly perturbed look on his face. “You are not doing well, are you?”

“Whatever.” I turned away in a vain attempt to hide how red I knew my face was. This conversation was not going the way I imagined. “I’m not leaving until you tell me what you know about the Hexside rumors and that plant witch and the even—”

“Don’t you have a curfew? Do I need to send Eda a crow?”

“Stop treating me like a kid!”

“You are a kid.”

“I wish that was true.” I took a breath, smoothed my hair out of my face, and attempted to obtain some degree of composure. “I appreciate your concern, Darius, but if you don’t tell me what you know, I’m going to look on my own, starting with going back to Hexside, then I’ll go to the castle—”

“Fine.” Darius put his hands up in surrender. “Tomorrow, Raine and I are going to Palm Stings to speak with Kikimora.” Even saying her name seemed to irritate him. “If you’re that determined to worsen your own life, you can come with us.”

“Wait, seriously?”

“Don’t make me regret this.”

I promised that I wouldn’t, he said he’d get me from the Owl House tomorrow, and I got home with time to spare. Eda asked what I decided to do with my precious 2 hours. I briefly considered lying, but lying to Eda would be stupid so I told her the truth.

“You’re desperate enough to willingly talk to Kikimora? ” She clicked her tongue and laughed a little. “I won’t get in your way, kiddo.”

Her calling me ‘kiddo’ reminded me of Darius saying that I am, in fact, a kid. That might be technically true, but every time I try to act like that’s true, I nearly get myself and my friends killed. I think it’s time to stop pretending I’ll ever have the life of a normal teenager. I’m going to figure this out and put a stop to it, even if that means talking to Kikimora. 

I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?

Hunter

Chapter Text

Dear Flapjack,

I think I was better off when all I did was take orders from other people. It turns out, I really am bad at making decisions for myself.

I guess I should start where I left off: Kikimora. We met her in public at a Palm Stings boardwalk. I have to admit, she looked more relaxed than I’d ever seen her before (even if the bar is lower than mine). She did not, however, look happy to see me.

“What’s that brat doing here?” She glared at me as soon as she saw me walking up behind Darius. “This isn’t what we agreed to.”

“Shut it, Kikimiki,” Darius said. “You agreed to tell us what you know, so tell us.”

There was a bit of back and forth before she agreed to let me stay. The four of us sat down at a table near the end of the boardwalk. Raine was oddly quiet while Darius and Kiki spoke. 

“I don’t know why anyone would want anything to do with Hexside. Trust, I have stayed far away from that Titan-forsaken warzone.” She visibly shuddered then continued, “What I do know is some of your fellow coven heads have been ‘in conversation’ with each other. They’re very unhappy with the current distribution of power.”

“Which coven heads, exactly?” Darius asked.

“Oh, you know.” Kiki waved her hand dismissively. “The usual suspects. That thespian Vernworth, Terra Snapdragon–” she looked pointedly at Raine. “–that creepy healing witch. What’s her name? Oh, who cares. You get the point. I’m sure they’re after the throne or something. It’s really none of my business.”

“Then why do you know so much?” Raine asked; it was the first thing they’d said since we first got there. “Are you waiting for a new ruler to grovel for?”

“Please, Raine,” Kiki said. “I’m perfectly content to keep relaxing here in Stings. I just like to stay up-to-date. Never hurts to be in the know.”

“I’m sure.” Raine glared at her.

“I’m a neutral third party now,” she continued. “I’m stuck out here on the hand, after all. A truly gracious banishment.”

I scoffed. “Yeah, right. You just want to be useful to someone again.”

She rolled her eye. “Nobody asked you, golden brat. And isn’t that why you’re here? To feel ‘useful?’”

Darius held me back from standing up. “Can we please stay on track?” he said to all of us, then turned to Kiki. “Tell us what you know about the other coven heads.”

“I already did. They’ve been chatting with each other, but I unfortunately don’t have any more information. Any other questions?”

“Have you ever heard of a plant called evenshade?” Raine asked.

“Well, yes. The plant coven’s best kept secret. Terra and one of her underlings were working on it beneath the castle before the Day of Unity. Emperor Belos wanted to use it to control wild magic, as usual, but they didn’t get the chance to finish it. I heard all the tests were destroyed.”

“You heard wrong,” I said. “Who was the witch working with Terra? What happened to them?”

“Like I said, some underling I don’t know the name of.” She paused for a moment, then asked, “Do you mean there’s still evenshade out there?”

“Some samples were discovered,” Raine said before I could answer. “But they have been taken care of.”

“I suppose that’s for the better. All they managed to create was a parasite they couldn’t control.”

“How do you know all this?” I asked.

“The same way I figured out what you are long before you did,” she said. “I’m a very good listener.”

I clenched my hands into fists under the table. “You mean eavesdropper.”

Kiki shrugged. “Better an eavesdropper than a grimwalker.”

“Better a grimwalker than a sniveling little—”

“That’s enough, Hunter.” Darius put his hand on my left shoulder and I pretended that didn’t hurt like hell. “But that does beg the question, Kiki: Who else did you share that information with?”

“I had no reason to tell anyone else,” she said, looking at the claws on her right hand. “But who knows, I might’ve let it slip to that Boscha girl. But if you think whoever spilled those beans is connected with your head witch suspicions, I’m sure any of them could’ve figured it out without my help.” She glanced up at me. “They weren’t exactly fond of you, ‘little prince.’”

I wanted to drop-kick her like a grudgby ball into the boiling sea, but Darius kept his grip on my shoulder.

“Thank you for your help, Kikimora,” he said. “We’ll take this into consideration the next time the subject of your un-banishment comes up.”

“It was my pleasure,” she said. “Do let me know if you find out anything else. I’d hate to be left out of the loop.”

None of us responded to that. When we got up to leave her there, she said one last thing to me. Darius and Raine had walked out of earshot. 

“You know, you won’t find whatever it is you’re looking for by blindly following orders,” she said. “But I guess you can’t help but do what you’re told, Golden Guard.”

I glared back at her. What made her think I was blindly following orders? I was the one who insisted on being let in on the investigation, and even though she had no way of knowing that, she also didn’t have reason to assume I was ordered to be there. I was doing the opposite of what I was told. I decided it was just her trying to mess with my head, so I didn’t respond and caught up with Raine and Darius.

“Well, that was a waste of time.” I said as we reached the shore. “Is that seriously the only lead you had?”

Darius just shrugged, but Raine looked back at me. Their eyebrows were furrowed and it looked like they wanted to say something to me, but Darius elbowed them before they got the chance. As usual, information was being withheld from me. I decided not to question them further. If I played dumb, they wouldn’t have cause to lock me in the Owl House again.

When they dropped me off that evening, I came inside to find only King. He was baking some human mixture from a multi-colored box, wearing an apron and a little white hat on one of his horns.

“Hey, roomie!” He called to me. “I hope you like–” he checked the box “–party-fetti rainbow cupcakes!”

“I don’t know what any of those words mean.” I started to head for my room, then figured I might as well ask, “Is Eda here?”

“Eda? Oh, uh, no. I mean, yes. She is here. But she’s asleep! And if you wake her up, she’ll be really mad. So you should just not go check on her. Because she’s sleeping.”

Is that what I sound like when I lie? The lie was so obvious, I knew I could get him to tell me the truth. “King, where is Eda? Do not lie to me.”

He sighed and got down from the stool he was using to reach the counter. “She made me promise not to tell you.”

I groaned and rolled my eyes. “Of course she did. Did she tell you why?”

He wrung his hands. “I’m not supposed to say.”

I got on my knees and put my hands on his shoulders. “Listen, King. I know Eda wants to protect me, and you probably do, too. But don’t you know what it feels like to be treated like you can’t help or contribute as much as other people? How it feels to be protected from things that directly involve you?”

He didn’t meet my eyes or respond.

“I don’t want someone else getting hurt because of a problem I caused,” I said.

King sighed. “Eda didn’t exactly tell me where she went. I don’t think she wanted to tell me she was leaving at all, but I woke up as she was going out her window. She said, ‘King, I’m leaving to check on something really important and I’ll be back late tonight. Whatever you do, do not tell Hunter.’ Then she flew off in harpy mode and I’ve been baking to deal with the stress.”

I sat back on the floor. “You have no idea where she went?”

He shook his head.

“Shit.” I ran my fingers through my hair. “They were just using Kiki to distract me, weren’t they?”

“I’m sorry.” King sat down next to me and took off his little hat. “I’m not exactly sure what you’re talking about, and Eda hasn’t been telling me about the whole investigation thing either. But with the grimwalker stuff, there is something I know that I should’ve told you a long time ago.” He took a deep breath and then started, “On the Day of Unity, in the Head, when you and Luz and everyone were fighting Belos, Kikimora showed me where the Collector was.”

“You have told me this before.”

“There’s more,” King said. “The Collector wasn’t the only one down there. It was sort of a–an open grave. I didn’t really have time to process it all, but there were a lot of skeletons down there.” He swallowed hard. “Skeletons, and masks. Kikimora said it was where the ‘failures’ end up.”

It took several seconds for me to comprehend what he was saying—and what he wasn’t saying. “Masks…You mean…” I swallowed, nearly gagging before saying it. “Golden Guard masks?”

King looked at me, eyes wide and sad, and nodded.

“How many?”

“I don’t know. A lot.”

I tried to focus on my breathing instead of the sick feeling building in my gut. “Why are you telling me this? Why now?” My voice was tight, and I’m afraid I might’ve come across as angry.

“Maybe the person who told everyone about, you know, maybe it has something to do with that place I found. If they know about it too, maybe they could’ve found out about you.”

“Kikimora. She’s the one who showed you?”

He nodded again. I clenched my fists. Of course Kiki wouldn’t actually tell us anything. Darius, Raine, and Eda had said nothing to me about searching the Titan’s head or anything related to it at all. It hit me that I’ve been in the Titan’s head before. That whole time, I had been walking over a grave? My grave? Thoughts were cutting through my mind. I didn’t know what to do. Now I realize that I should have stayed put, waited for Eda, bugged her until she gave me answers. But no. That would’ve been the smart thing to do, and I’m an idiot.

“Are you okay?” King asked. “You look like you’re about to throw up.”

I shook my head. “I’m fine.” I did feel like I was about to throw up. “I just need a second.”

“Okay,” he said. He sat with me for several minutes while I caught my breath and sorted through everything I’d heard that day, anything that might tip me off to where Eda had gone. I remembered that Kiki told us the evenshade had been developed somewhere underneath the castle. Maybe Terra and that other witch had gone back there to recreate it. I’d never seen any plant experimentation going on in or under the castle, but I knew my way around well enough to hunt it down. And if there was nothing there, I would use the tunnel system to go to the Head myself.

Once I had formulated this half-baked plan, I told King, “This has been an overwhelming day. I think I’m going to go lie down.”

“Sure thing, buddy,” King said. “I’ll be here if you want to talk or eat cupcakes or anything.”

“Thanks, King. And thank you for—” I swallowed my nausea. “—For telling me what you found.”

I went upstairs and did not lie down. Seeing my bed made me want to, but everything else in my body was telling me to leave, to chase whatever I would find in the castle and beyond. So, I changed into an all-black outfit, including my Hexside cowl, and I pulled a cloth mask over my mouth and nose. As I stepped up to the window, I glanced back. I was struck with a memory of something that happened back at the Noceda house. I could almost hear you chirping at me— Stay! Stay! Danger! Hunter stay! —when I put you in a cage so I could do something stupid. But when I glanced from my window in the Owl House, all I saw was an empty room and no one to hold me back.

It was fully dark out when I slipped through the window and dashed to the ground. It’s the time of year when it’s comfortably warm during the day and almost freezing at night. No matter; I’d get plenty hot while running to the castle. One of the earliest things I learned in scout training was how to navigate the Isles with or without a map. The castle was my center; I knew where everything else was in relation to it. Wherever I went, I knew how to get back. And I knew how far I had to run from the Owl House. If I didn’t have your magic, it would’ve been an idiotic endeavor. 

But it turns out none of that mattered. I wouldn’t have made it anyway. Because I was being followed the whole time.

At first, I thought I had tripped. That was bound to happen eventually. But as I tried to get up, I felt something wrap around my ankles. I grabbed a tree root, tried to keep myself from being dragged down under the ground. The force was stronger. I was pulled under, and as darkness surrounded me, suffocated me, I thought, No one even knows where I am. No one will know what happened to me. They won’t even find my body . And for a moment, I felt peace.

Then I woke up. Not from a dream in my bed as if none of that had ever happened. It took a minute to get my bearings and figure out what was happening.

I was in a dimly lit, musty smelling room. I was on my knees. My hands were bound behind my back, my ankles and shins bound beneath me. My fabric mask was pulled across my mouth, gagging me. My vision was blurred, way more than usual. I instinctively struggled against the binds, but I felt something sharp poking at my skin through my clothes.

“If I were you, I would quit struggling,” a voice said from behind me. “That’s evenshade tying you up.”

I tried to say, “Who’s there? Who are you?” but I was gagged so that obviously didn’t work.

They laughed. “Cute,” they said. “Or maybe just pathetic.”

I heard footsteps come around. My kidnapper crouched in front of me and I startled so bad thorns pierced through to my skin. They were wearing my old mask. The Golden Guard mask. Before I could finish the thought, Did I get kidnapped by another grimwalker? , they took the mask off to reveal someone else’s face. My relief at seeing a face that didn’t look like mine was gone as quickly as it came. The person in the mask was Basil the healer.

“I’m so glad you’re feeling better.” They stepped back and looked down at me. “Good enough to run off on your own, finally.”

I fought against the gag, the only bind that wasn’t a toxic plant covered in thorns, and attempted to push it out with my tongue. When it didn’t work, Basil leaned down and pulled it away. I took my opportunity and bit down on their finger as hard as I could. They pulled away from me, holding their bleeding hand with the other.

“What the fuck do you want from me?” I demanded to know. “Why are you doing this?”

“I don’t ‘want’ anything from you, Golden Grimwalker.” They tossed the mask down at my feet. “Everyone thinks you’re some reformed hero who would never hurt anyone. I ‘want’ them to know the truth. Because I know what you are. I know what you’ve done.” They drew a glowing blue circle around their hand, closing the bite wound. “After all, you were the one who took my palisman.”

“W-What?”

“Of course you don’t remember. It was just another part of the routine for you. Someone hands you a palisman, or you go and hunt one down, and then you dutifully deliver them to your dear old ‘uncle.’”

“Who are you?”

“One of the random, faceless minions you bossed around.” They pulled their sleeve up to reveal the Emperor’s sigil. “At least, that’s who I was to you. My name is Basil Pestris. I helped Terra create evenshade, but she gave up on it so easily. Her heart was never really in it. Now, look around, Golden Guard. Do you remember this place?”

I tried to do as they said, but it was too dark and everything more than a foot away was blurred.

“This is where you kept the palismen. You held them sedated in their wooden forms, bagged up until it was feeding time.” Basil bent down in front of me, just far enough away that I couldn’t bite or headbutt their face. “Then what do I see? A little red bird tucked into your hood. I heard you talking to it—you’re awful at hiding. A few days later, you disappeared. When you finally came back after the Emperor was killed, there was no more little red bird. Just you, horrifically scarred but somehow alive.”

My mouth went dry. I could feel my heartbeat behind my eyes. They might as well have put the gag back in. I couldn’t talk anyway.

“When I saw you at Hexside—or really, when I heard you—I started asking around. Luckily, one of your flyer derby teammates remembered your palisman. She couldn’t recall its name, and she had no idea what happened to it.”

I didn’t care about which teammate it was. That didn’t matter. I just wanted this to be over.

“Once I discovered the fact that you are a grimwalker, it all made sense. It was hard to believe a witch would do something as vile as consume their own palisman, but a grimwalker?” They shook their head. “A grimwalker would do anything to obey its master.”

I stared at the mask on the ground in front of me.

“Nothing to say? Good. I could do without hearing that grating voice of yours.”

I would’ve spit on them if my mouth hadn’t gone dry.

“It’s crazy how they just let you walk around Hexside with all those palismen around. They don’t even know what you did, what you are. But I’m going to show them.”

I managed to get one word out: “How?”

“I’m glad you asked.” They grabbed something from the table beside them. Even blurred, I could tell it was a knife. I hoped in vain that they were going to stab me and then this would all be over. “I’m the only one who can control evenshade,” they said. “Its poison is slow acting and, as you know, painful. It can’t be cured or treated, except by one thing: the soul of a palisman. Once the infection  reaches your brain, I doubt you’ll be able to restrain your natural instincts for long. You’ll crave it until you get what you need, or you’ll die hungry.”

My head was spinning. I understood what they were saying. I didn’t want to. But I did.

They knelt in front of me, dagger in hand. Basil’s gray eyes looked directly into mine, cold and unfeeling. They brought their arm back; I squeezed my eyes shut and braced myself. The they stabbed me in my left side. I made some weak choking sound. They removed the blood-soaked blade and used healing magic to close the wound. That didn’t stop the pain from piercing through my entire body.

Basil stood and dispelled the vines that had bound me. I collapsed onto the floor. Black spots clouded my vision. I wished they would just kill me. 

“I’d wish you luck,” Basil said. “But you’re perfectly capable of finding palismen without it, aren’t you, Golden Guard?”

That was the last thing I heard before I lost consciousness.

When I came to, the pain had dulled to a strong throbbing. The room smelled different. It was colder. My arms shook as I tried to push myself up. My vision wasn’t back to normal yet, but when I looked at my surroundings, as I felt the floor and smelled the air, I knew exactly where I was: the throne room. I still wanted to lay down and die, but I wasn’t going to lay down and die in that room. I forced myself up to my hands and knees and crawled towards the exit. As I moved, the pain subsided a bit more. I kept going. The doors of the throne room were open—actually, one was gone entirely. When I got to the exit, I brought myself closer to the wall and managed to stand up. Using the wall for support, I kept going. 

I wasn’t expecting anyone to be there. I could see out a broken window that it was still dark outside. I hadn’t heard any footsteps or talking—not until I heard someone say, 

“Is that…Hunter?”

I froze at the sound of my name. I looked around madly, unable to tell what direction it was coming from. “Who’s there?”

I heard someone approaching. I had no weapons and no strength; I didn’t bother getting defensive. If this person wanted to kill me, there was no way I could stop them. I would probably thank them. But the person approaching didn’t want to kill me.

“Hunter, it’s Steve.”

I turned to face him. “Steve?” 

“Yeah, man, it’s me. Are you okay?”

I managed to focus my eyes enough to confirm that yes, it was Steve who found me.“What’re you doing here?” I asked, my voice hoarse.

“I’m on night patrol,” Steve answered. “What are you doing here?”

As if on command, my legs buckled out from under me. I crumpled in front of him.

“Oh shit.” Steve grabbed my shoulders to keep me from fully hitting the floor. “Oh fuck.” He put his hand on my face and tilted my head to look at him. “Hunter, can you still hear me?”

“Yeah,” I mumbled.

“Good. Don’t fall asleep, okay?” He looked back and yelled to someone else, “Go get help!” Then he turned back to me and inspected either side of my face. “Did you get hurt?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Was that a yes?”

“Yeah.”

“Where are you hurt?”

“Ribs. Got stabbed.”

Steve looked at my right side and then saw the hole in my clothes on the left. He lifted my shirt out of the way and I heard him take a sharp inhale. “Shit, man,” he said. “Are you still living with the Owl Lady?”

“Yeah,” I said.

Three or four more people showed up. I think they were all members of CATs. Steve and another witch stood on either side of me and lifted me, putting their arms around my back to help me walk. They dragged me to a room with a fireplace, and I realized how cold it had been in the corridor. Steve sat me in an upright chair near the fire.

“Don’t fall asleep,” he repeated to me. To someone else, “Katya, get to the Owl House as fast as you possibly can and tell Eda to get her ass to the castle.” Back to me, “What day is it?”

“Friday? Maybe Saturday?” I started coughing. “Sorry.”

“Good, yeah, it’s early Saturday morning.” He patted me on the back. “What’s your name?”

“Hunter.”

“Good. Your best friend’s name?”

I coughed again, but managed to say, “Luz.”

He kept asking me simple questions—the names of the people I live with, the color of my clothes and then his clothes—and then he asked, “How did you get here?”

I shook my head. I didn’t want to say.

“C’mon, Hunter. How did you get to the castle?”

Finally, I muttered, “Trapped.”

“Someone trapped you? Who?”

I fell into a coughing fit. Every heave sent waves of pain through my body. I started to feel nauseous. “Sorry,” I said again.

“It’s okay.” He rubbed his hand up and down my back. The gesture didn’t hurt any more than existing did in that moment, and it was actually a little comforting. I wanted to fall asleep. I guess that showed on my face, because for the third or fourth time, he repeated, “Don’t fall asleep.”

“I’m trying,” I said.

“Should I keep asking questions?”

I nodded. He kept his hand on my back as he asked more questions. When Eda finally got there, she was in harpy mode and looked ready to fight. When she saw me looking, I imagine, incredibly sick and pathetic, she changed out of harpy mode and started questioning Steve. He told her everything I had told him. He asked if he could move my shirt to show Eda the injury, and I let him.

“Holy Titan, kid,” Eda said. “What did you get yourself into?” 

I didn’t want to answer any more questions. I wanted to go back in time and undo this entire day.

“I wanna go home,” was all I could say. “Please.”

“Alrighty, kiddo. Let’s get you home.” Eda held her hand out. I took it and stood to my feet. And immediately regretted it. 

As soon as I stood up, the nausea I’d been fighting took over. I started retching. It’d been hours since I’d eaten. I expected to dry heave, maybe choke out some stomach acid. What actually came out was dark, almost black bile. It splattered against the gold rug. I heaved. More bile came up, burning my nose and throat, changing from watery acid to something more like mud. It smelled like burning dirt. I couldn’t stop heaving even after the bile was out of my system. I gasped for air, nearly passed out. Steve grabbed me before I could land in whatever the fuck had just come out of my body.

Throwing up was misery, but afterwards. the pain from the wound was less intense. I guess I expelled some of the poison. I could see a little more clearly. My chest and stomach were sore, and my nose and throat still burned. We moved to a different room, someone’s office maybe, and Eda and Steve made me stay awake for several more hours. Eda refused to fly me home until we were sure I wouldn’t have another “episode.” I thought that was a weird way to refer to it, but I didn’t say anything.

It must’ve been late morning when Eda and I finally left. I went to sleep on the couch and slept until the next morning. Surprisingly, I felt sort of okay physically. The pain was localized around the stab wound. I’ve never been stabbed before. I would like to never be stabbed again.

This afternoon, I managed to tell Eda part of what happened. I told her the Basil the healer is actually an exceedingly disturbed ex-coven member who has it out for me. I did not tell her why. I didn’t mention palismen at all. I didn’t tell her what Basil said the poison would do. I told her I thought the treatment from before might still work. I said I was sorry for running off on my own. I promised not to do it again.

Even though the agony has ebbed away, I trust that it will come back again, probably worse than before. It’s possible Basil was lying about there being no other cure, but I don’t doubt that this will be slow and painful. 

Flapjack, I swear to you that I will never hurt a palisman again. I’ll never touch a palisman again. If I die, I die. I can’t hurt anyone if I’m dead. It’d be better that way.

And maybe, if I die, I’ll get to see you again.

Hunter

Chapter Text

Dear Flapjack,

The first time I saw my uncle consume the soul of a palisman, I hadn’t even started scout training. I wasn’t supposed to see it. I was supposed to be in bed behind a locked door. But whoever was watching me that day forgot to lock the door. As soon as I realized I could open the door, I did something I knew was bad.

I wandered around the castle. There weren’t many guards in the area near my room, but I was careful to remain unseen. I imagined I was a coven scout on an important stealth mission. It was the first time I’d ever been alone in the corridors. It was terrifying and exhilarating. 

I wasn’t planning on going inside his study. I’d been warned that there would be consequences if I did. I was only going to sneak by, and it was so late that I assumed he would’ve gone to bed by then. So, after double checking for any sign of castle guards, I snuck down the forbidden hallway. When I saw light flickering through the slightly cracked double doors, I nearly turned and ran back to my room. Then I heard my uncle cough. I’d heard that before, a few times. But it seemed worse than usual. I crept closer to the door just in case it got so bad he needed help. At least, that’s what I told myself then. 

As I neared the door, he broke into another coughing fit. He swore under his breath, something he rarely did in front of me. I crouched low and peeked through the cracked doors. 

His study was large, and the shadows cast by the single lamp made it seem cavernous. He was sitting at a desk bigger than my bed, going through drawers, frantically searching for something. He found what he was looking for. From where I was, it looked like a plain wood carving, small and brown with a little bit of yellow paint. I wondered why he had been so desperate to find what, to me, appeared to be a toy. 

Then he snapped it in two. Bright green fog and liquid spilled from the broken halves. I saw my uncle inhale deeply, like he’d been underwater and was coming up for air. His eyes glowed blue. I froze where I was kneeling, unable to move. I knew that I needed to move. Why couldn’t I move?

Suddenly, he appeared in front of me. I hadn’t even seen him get up. He pushed the doors open and looked down at me, his eyes now back to their regular cold blue; he said nothing.

I started babbling, apologizing and begging for forgiveness, promising never to do this again. He let me go on like that for a minute, his posture unchanging. Eventually, he did stop me.

“That’s enough of that, Hunter,” he said. His tone was even, neither angry or soothing. “I suppose you were going to have to learn about this eventually. Come in, let me show you.”

I did as he said. He walked me to his desk, which was almost taller than me, and picked up the pieces of the broken carving.

“Many years ago,” he said. “I was cursed with a terrible sickness by wild magic.”

Wild magic. I thought about the stories he told me about wild witches. They wiped out our family. They would tell lies and trick me into disobeying the laws of the Titan, so I should never trust a witch without a coven sigil. He told me that, one day, he was going to teach me how to fight wild magic.

“I have spent much of my life searching for a cure, but there is only one treatment that keeps the curse at bay.” He got on one knee and showed me the pieces. “This is called a palisman. Palismen are made from wild magic and are very, very dangerous, but when I use them properly, the way the Titan intended, they soothe the effects of the curse.” He held the halves out to me. “Go on, Hunter. You may examine them for yourself.”

I took the pieces. What had seemed so small in his grasp was bigger than both my hands combined. I could tell it had been carved to look like a griffin. There were still traces of the green liquid on the inside of either half. It smelled like dirt and smoke.

“What do you think, child?”

“It doesn’t look dangerous,” I said. “Why did you have to break it?”

He gently put his hand on my face and stroked my cheek with his thumb. “It may not seem dangerous now, but that is the trick of wild magic. It often disguises itself as a seemingly benign object, but wild witches use it to create chaos and destruction. They use their palismen to hurt people, to kill people as they killed your parents.”

Looking at the broken palisman, my hands started shaking. I held it back out to him. “I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“I know, Hunter.” He didn’t take back the pieces. “The good news is that the Titan blessed me with the knowledge of how to take the magic found in a palisman and use it for healing. That is how I learned to make the curse manageable while I do the Titan’s bidding.”

I didn’t want to keep holding the palisman, but he hadn’t taken them back or given me permission to put them down. 

“Don’t worry. Now that I’ve taken its magic, it can’t hurt you or anybody else.”

“It made you not feel sick?” I asked.

He nodded. “It makes me feel much, much better.”

“That’s really nice for the Titan to do that,” I said.

“It’s not a matter of niceness. Managing the sickness means I can continue to enforce his will and help lead all those on the Boiling Isles. I earned his trust, and so he enables me to continue my mission.” He squeezed my shoulder. “And when I took you in as my ward, the Titan told me something about you.”

My eyes widened in awe. “About me?”

He nodded. “He has big plans for you, Hunter," he said. "So long as you do not stray from his path.” 

The Titan had plans for me. Even though I was born weak, a half-witch with no magic, the Titan was going to use me to help my uncle. Stay on his path, I told myself. Earn his trust.

My uncle stood up and we walked to the doors. Before he opened them, he paused and looked down at me.

“One last thing, Hunter,” he said.

I craned my neck to look at him. I waited.

“What I have told you tonight is very sensitive information. Only the most trustworthy of witches have knowledge of my curse. You must never tell anyone what you saw and heard here. Do you understand?”

If only the most trustworthy witches knew about the curse, that meant I had to be trustworthy. I had to keep his secrets. “Yes, sir. I understand.”

“And do you promise to keep this between you and me?”

I nodded.

“Use your words, please, Hunter.”

“I promise, uncle.”

After that, he walked me back to my room. I carried the broken palisman with me in my hands. 

For years, I kept those pieces in a drawer beside my bed. They were a reminder of the Titan’s plan and my uncle’s trust. As I worked my way up to earning the title of Golden Guard, I studied them, tried to understand how the palisman magic helped my uncle. I wanted to find a way to cure the curse all together. I saw how badly it was hurting him. I thought I could help.

The first time I read that palismen are living creatures with thoughts and emotions, I slammed the book shut. Every palisman I had seen was in its wooden form. I couldn’t believe they were anything but shells that contained the magic that kept my uncle’s curse at bay. I had handed dozens of palismen to him, watched him break and absorb their magic. They were the only thing that could calm him down.

Not long after I read that, I was summoned to the throne room. He was angry; I don’t remember why. But he was mad and strong emotions made him sick. He told me to bring him palismen. I did as he said. 

I went down to where we kept the supply, a room accessible only to me and him. I took the first palisman I saw. It was carved to look like a bat. As I held it, I couldn’t forget the words I had read. I could almost feel the life inside. When I watched Belos break and inhale its magic, I knew. He wasn’t simply absorbing magic; he was consuming the soul of a living creature.

Years later, I met you.

By then, I had seen palismen in their active form. I took them from so-called wild witches, brought them to Belos, and watched in relief when the consumption curbed his sickness. Hundreds of times. 

If you had known all that back then, would you still have chosen me? If I hadn’t found you, would I have continued handing him palismen until he inevitably killed me? When he killed me, would I have deserved it?

Hunter

Chapter Text

Dear Flapjack,

Remember when we thought there was a chance the rumors about me would die down over break? 

Ha ha ha.

I stayed home from the first day of school, for reasons that are beyond obvious. Even without the pain, which is somewhat bearable thanks to Eda’s pain killer, I’ve been so exhausted I can barely get out of bed. I’ve downplayed it in front of Eda and King. They’re worried enough as it is. We’ve been applying the salve from before, but I know it’s not doing anything. The CATs are searching for Basil Malpestris, but, as far as I know, nothing has come up.

Willow and Gus came to the house after school. They brought a “care-package” with sour candy, a wolf themed coloring book, markers and pens for the coloring book, and soup from Willow’s dad. There was a card attached but they told me not to read it until after they left.

As we sat on the mattresses in my room, I let them ramble about the contents of the care-package for a few minutes. Why not have a small moment of positivity before turning to the far more unpleasant subject that is the reason they made the care-package to begin with? When they ran out of things to say about candy and markers, I nonchalantly asked, “So, what’s happening at Hexside?” 

Willow and Gus looked at each other. They for sure discussed what they were going to say before they got here.

“Well, aside from the burned up theater and all the dead plants, it was a pretty normal day,” Willow said, her voice measured like she was trying the place the words exactly right. “There was more security than usual, which got people talking. All they know is that there was an attack on Hexside over the break and that safety measures have been put in place to prevent ‘further incidents.’”

“And?” I pressed. I don’t know why they thought saving information relevant to me for the end would be helpful.

Willow looked at Gus. I guess it was his turn. He cleared his throat and took a drink of water, stalling. “The rumors about you have not died down,” he said. “They have, in fact, gotten worse.”

“Wow, I’m so shocked,” I said, deadpan. “Who could’ve predicted that?”

“The grimwalker thing is what’s been talked about the most,” Willow said, not acknowledging my hilarious and well-timed sarcasm. “A few people asked me about you. I told them it was none of their business and that they should leave you alone unless they want to have to deal with me.” She coughed into her fist. “I might have gotten a little carried away.”

I admit, it was nice to hear that someone was standing up for me like that. Of course it was Willow.

“Some people also think you–” he paused and fidgeted with the collar of his uniform “–think you attacked Hexside.” He grimaced apologetically.

“Fuck.” I can’t say I was surprised. “I’m fucked. That settles it. I can never go back.”

“If you don’t come back they’ll suspect you even more,” Willow said.

“If I do go back they’ll kill me.” I gave an over-exaggerated shrug. “You win some, you lose some.”

“We’re obviously not going to let that happen,” she said. “We’ll stick with you and we’ll prove that they have nothing to fear.”

I flopped down on my bed and mumbled, “But what if they do?”

“What’d you say?” Gus asked.

“Nothing.”

“Listen, Hunter,” Willow got up and stood over me. “You are not a monster. You’re not a palismen killer, you’re not controlled by Belos, and you didn’t attack the school. Yeah, you’re a grimwalker, but you’re also a Hexoleo and, most importantly, our friend. I know you think the entire school is against you, but there are tons of students who don’t give a fuck about rumors because they’ve seen who you actually are. Skara, Viney, Matt, Edric and Emira—heck, even Principal Bump is on your side. He’s already trying to shut down rumors about the attack.

“I don’t want Hexside to become the sort of place that outcasts students just because they’re different. You make Hexside a better place. You make our lives better.” She held her hand out to me. “Please come back, Hunter.”

I grasped her hand and she pulled me up. 

“Fine,” I said. “One chance.”

I didn’t fully believe her. For one, I am a palismen killer. For another, even if I have somehow made their lives better, I have, in other ways, definitely made it worse. But hey, I’m probably dying, anyway. I should spend the time I have with my friends.

Willow grinned and Gus got up and hugged us both. They didn’t see me wince.

By the time they left, I was completely drained. Eda managed to get me to come downstairs for dinner, and I told her that my friends talked me into going to school.

“Are you feeling up for that?” She asked, a cup of apple blood in hand. “You got stabbed like, 3 days ago.”

I shrugged. “It’s not hurting as bad. I’m just tired.”

“Just tired? You look like boiled cabbage that’s been left out over night.”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“You look sick, kid,” Eda said.

“I always look sick. It’s kind of my thing.”

“Look, I won’t stop you from going to school. Titan forbid I get the way of a child’s education.” She took a long drink, set the cup on the table, and pointed a finger at me. “If you go, I’m dropping you off and picking you up. If the pain comes back or you start vomiting or you pass out, go to the healers and use this–” She pulled a walkie-talkie out of her hair and handed it to me. “–to contact me as soon as possible. Hexside is in range; King and Luz tested it a million times.”

I’d used that walkie-talkie once before. But that was a long time ago.

“Okay, fine,” I acquiesced. “Guess I can’t blame you for worrying.” To be honest, it’s a relief knowing I have an escape route at any given moment. 

I crashed as soon as I made it up to my room. I dreamed that I had horned spiders crawling out of my skin. When I woke up, I could still feel them. At least the panic of searching my clothes and bed for spiders got me up with plenty of time before school.

Putting my uniform on felt strange. It doesn’t fit right anymore.

I drank plenty of coffee and had a mild elixir for the pain. I looked over the class schedule that had been sent in the mail over break. It listed 3 different potions classes. Seeing that made me want to switch to multi-track like Luz said I should. But I don’t see the point of learning about magic I can’t do.

Eda came down, chugged a coffee, and then summoned Owlbert. I tensed up at seeing him. I told myself it was fine. I wasn’t going to hurt him. I couldn’t even try with Eda around. I kept repeating this to myself on the flight to Hexside. I asked Eda to stick around until I found one of my friends. Amity showed up first and seemed genuinely excited to see me.

“Hunter!” She came over and hugged me. This is not something Amity usually does to me.

“Hey, Amity,” I said as I pulled away. “How’s it going?”

“It’s great! I’m so glad you’re here!” She said way too loudly. Quieter, she said, “Sorry about that. We’re just trying to show people that you’re not dangerous.”

We . That meant I would be getting similar treatment from Willow and Gus. Sure enough, both of them hugged me when they got there. I didn’t mind; I mean, I don’t think I did. It was just weird after they’d spent so long avoiding touching me all that much.

“I have good new, by the way,” Willow said. She opened her book bag and Clover flew out. “Look who’s all healed up!”

I stumbled backwards. A disproportionate response. I caught myself and forced a laugh. “Haha, feeling sorta jumpy today. That’s great, though. I’m so glad she’s feeling better.”

Clover landed on Willow’s head and nestled in. I prayed she would stay there and also that none of the other palismen would come near me.

I felt people staring at us as we crossed the courtyard. I mostly kept my eyes on the ground. Every time I glanced up, I accidentally made eye contact with whoever we were walking past. Each time, they averted their gaze. I wasn’t sure how much of that I could take. 

Willow, Gus, and Amity all walked with me to my first class, Intermediate Potions II. A few familiar faces waved at us—Ed and Em when we passed the illusions homeroom, Matt as we walked up the stairs. I was winded when we reached the second floor. I felt so weak; if one flight of stairs made me have to catch my breath, how was I supposed to get through this whole day?

When we reached the classroom, I assured the others that I would be fine and that I would see them after first period. I took a seat in the back of the class, an early morning lab like last time. Most of my classmates from Potions I were in also in this section. I kept my head down as they came in, scribbling in my notebook to act busy.  No one took the seat next to mine. I saw Falon walk in and sit in the second row without looking in my direction. Professor Kanderen came in right as the bell screamed. We were once again starting the semester with a sleeping potion, a more advanced one, but really just a warm up. He handed out ingredients and warned us not to be wasteful as plant-based ingredients were in low supply “due to the incident in the plant track homeroom.” A demon a few seats away turned and glared at me. It took me a second to realize he had done that in reference to “the incident.” At least he didn’t blast me with a fire ball. Kanderen asked why I wasn’t in class the day before and I told him I’d been sick.

I followed the potion instructions, squinting as I double checked each step before adding an ingredient or switching the direction I was stirring. Other students were chatting with each other while they worked. I listened to them as I made my potion, just in case they said anything about me.

“Yeah, I’m surprised too,” I heard someone say. I didn’t look up from my work. “I did not think he’d show up,” they continued.

“Does he really think people are going to buy the ‘I was sick’ excuse?” Someone else responded. These idiots did not care that I was in hearing distance.

“He does look pretty sickly,” said the first witch. “What did that flyer say about gray skin?”

Before the second witch could answer, they were interrupted by our professor.

I finished my potion first. Kanderen approved it and said he was glad I was there. I scribbled in my notebook until class ended. As I walked out, Falon called my name. They came over to me and said they wanted to show me something. I saw their palisman, a blue and green frog sitting on their shoulder. I panicked and said I had to go.  

I’d like to say the rest of the day went the same way, that I got through my classes mostly unnoticed and unbothered, and maybe overheard the occasional conversation about me. I’d like to say that, but as usual, I don’t get what ‘I’d like.’

At lunch, I asked my friends if we could sit at a corner table so no one would be able to sneak up on me. The cafeteria felt far more exposing than a classroom. In class, we’re in a relatively small room, there’s always a professor hovering around, and I’m confident that no one would try anything serious where a teacher could easily intervene.. The cafeteria is a large open space, with big windows and a crowd. There is little and sometimes no adult supervision. Today, there were more adults than usual, probably as part of the extra security measures. 

I had a hard time eating the lunch Eda made for me. Having realized that my fellow students were willing to openly disparage me while I was in the same classroom as them, I feared what they would be willing to do if they got me alone. The anxiety made my stomach turn, but I knew going on with an empty stomach would be foolish, so I ate half. My friends were chatting with each other; I couldn’t pay attention.

The pain in my side was rising. I reached into my bag for the extra elixir from Eda. As I pulled it out, a stray piece of paper came with it. In the split second before I thought, Hey, maybe this is one of those ominous/hateful notes like the other ones that put in my bag or locker, I grabbed the paper and turned it over.

WHAT DID YOU DO?

Beneath the bold black letters was a drawing in red, much like the first note I received, of a broken palisman. Of you.

I dropped the elixir and it shattered on the floor.

“Hunter, are you okay?” One of my friends asked.

“Yeah, I-I gotta go, uh, use the restroom. Sorry.” I got up from the table and walked out of the cafeteria as fast as I could. The pain spreading from my left side deepened. My heart was pounding. I walked into the nearest bathroom, letting the door slam behind me. All of the stalls were empty..

Hyperventilating, I braced myself against the counter top. I made the mistake of looking in the mirror. Gray skin, sunken eyes; the only color on my face was the pink of my scars. I made the second mistake of lifting my tunic to see the wound. There were crooked black veins twisting out from where Basil stabbed me. It spread up beneath my undershirt to my shoulder. 

“Hunter?” It was Gus. “Are you in—” He stopped mid-sentence when he saw me. “Hunter, what the–what happened?”

I pushed myself away from the sink and tried to run into a stall. My legs gave way beneath me and I landed on the floor. Gus rushed towards me. I moved away, put my hand up in a halting motion.

“It’s fine,” I said, struggling to breathe. “Don’t–don’t come closer.”

Gus held back. He took a few deep breaths of his own. “Do you want me to lock the door?” He asked. I nodded. “Okay,” he drew a circle and I heard the lock click. “It’s just you and me in here. Can you try to take some breaths?”

I tried. Gus sat a few fet in front of me and held his hand up, putting his fingers up and down while I tried to match the pace. The pain receded, once again contained to the wound and immediate surrounding area. Gus came closer like he was approaching a wild beast.

“That looks a lot worse than last time,” he said softly. “The treatment isn’t working, is it?”

If I admitted the treatment wasn’t working, he would tell Eda. They would make me try different treatments, and I would know no other treatment would work. 

I wondered if what Basil told me about “natural instincts” becoming uncontrollable was true, if the poison would reach my brain and I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from taking a palisman. And if the mild version of the poison I’d gotten before gave me the urge to do that to Clover within hours, what would this do to me?

I could tell them. I could tell them, and they could protect their palismen from me. There could be another cure. I don’t actually want to die this slow, excruciating death. 

Realizing that made me feel worse. Tears sprang into my eyes. I looked Gus and told him the one true thing I could. 

“I don’t want to die,” I said. “I don’t want to die.”

He dropped all hesitation to approach and put his arms around me. I hugged him back. I sobbed into his shoulder. We didn’t say anything else.

I’m not sure how, but, except for the one following lunch, I managed to go to the rest of my classes. I don’t think I’ll retain any information given in those lectures, but I sat through them. When Eda took me home, I went upstairs and slept for a few hours. I woke up in pain. The pain was easier to ignore when it wasn’t paired with the cycling thought, I’m dying. I don’t want to die. I’m dying. I don’t want to die.

I took a hot shower, which somehow eased the pain more than the lower strength elixir, and ate dinner with King and Eda. I couldn’t fall back asleep after that.

I know what’s killing me. I know what will fix it. I can’t do the thing that will fix it. I can’t tell anyone that I’m going to die unless I…

My friends found that drawing of you. I dropped it when I dropped the elixir. They asked me about it. I had nothing to say. They know that isn’t what happened.

I’m going to try and read before I attempt sleeping again. I need to think about anything other than this.

Hunter

Chapter Text

Dear Flapjack,

I spent the next 3 days of school more focusing on breathing and staying calm than on lectures and lab instructions. The pain gets worse when I’m stressed or upset, so if I don’t get stressed or upset, the pain is bearable. It’s lessened enough for my friends and Eda to be convinced it’s getting better.

I’ve become desensitized to the things people say about me. After so many “half-dead-witch” or  “witch Hunter” or “scar face” or  “necrofreak” or “emperor’s pet” notes fed to my locker or comments said to my face, it’s gotten old. I’ve learned to brace myself at the start of each day. I know what’s coming. I can ignore it. I can throw out the notes. I can avoid the people I’ve heard saying those things. Well, except for the ones in my classes.

Most students aren’t saying this stuff out loud, not when I’m around, at least. The isolation feels more pointed. Empty seats beside me and group projects done without me sting worse than words said about me. Every time I think someone might ask for help with their potion or to compare notes from classes, they walk right by me. I kept telling myself it was fine. I have my friends; we meet up before school, at lunch, and again before leaving. A few of my friends’ friends (or siblings, in Ed and Em’s case) have also been so bold as to interact with me. At least when Matt Tholomule insults it, it’s for my personality or how I look and not that other stuff. Genuinely, I prefer that. He’s a little shit, of course, but he can actually be endearing. It’s a little confusing, but I think I kind of get why Gus hangs out with him so much.

After so many days without anyone directly antagonizing me, I let my guard down. I woke up feeling decent enough this morning, good by my increasingly low standards, and I was excited to see my friends. Willow walked me to class. When we went up the stairs, she put her arm around my back to support me. A couple of passing students gave us a disgusted look. Willow glared right back at them. She didn’t move her arm away until we reached the potions lab.

“See you at lunch,” she said, smiling, maybe blushing a little.

I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Thanks, Captain.”

Then I turned and walked into my classroom, heat rushing down my face and neck. There was a twinge of pain in my side as I sat down. I guess any emotion can trigger the poison if it’s strong enough.

I pulled out my notebook, prepared for another class of memorizing elixir combinations and sitting alone. Then, in my peripheral vision, I saw someone sit in the desk closest to mine. I didn’t look over. I stared at the surface of my desk, placing my notebook and vials exactly where I liked them. When Professor Kanderen came in and greeted the class, I instinctively looked up. In doing so, I caught a better glimpse of the student to my left. I didn’t know her name, but I was pretty sure she was one of the witches who called me sickly on Tuesday. 

I spent the rest of class avoiding looking in her direction. Two of the times I happened to glance to my left, I caught her giving me the dirtiest look, her pale blue eyes narrowed like she was trying to shoot ice daggers at me. It started raining halfway through the lesson. I pulled my attention from my new desk neighbor to the sound of sizzling water against the window on my right. 

As class came to a close,  I put all my things together, planning to get out as soon as possible. I did not want to find out if this witch was planning on doing something more than glaring. A second after Kanderen dismissed us, someone slapped their hands on my desk.

“Hey, Grimhunter.” Sure enough, that witch was planning on doing something more than glaring.

I steadied my breathing. “Grimhunter? That’s a new one,” I said without looking up. “Not bad.”

She bent down and got in my face. I froze. I was certain she wouldn’t do anything in front of our teacher, but he was probably on his way out.

“You little freak,” the witch hissed at me. Her straight black hair fell around her face, making her eyes look even more unnervingly blue. “You may have fooled those friends of yours with the Mr. Meek-Nice-guy act, but we all know what you are.”

I didn’t respond. I sat there, unable to move or look away from her gaze.

“What’s wrong? Palisman got your tongue?” She sneered. “You know, we were planning on leaving you alone, as long as you minded your own business. But you crossed the line, half-dead.”

I tried to think of what she could be referring to. I hadn’t done anything different today than I had the days before. And who was the “we” she referred to?

“Coast is clear, Zira!” Someone behind her said. I heard the classroom door close. A tall demon with yellow tusks came up next to the witch, Zira, who was taunting me, and then a witch with dark red curls walked up to me. The three of them were cornering me. I was still frozen where I sat.

“Here’s the thing, Hunter, ” Zira said. “We can’t sit by and watch a good witch get lured in by someone like you.”

It started to dawn on me, what she meant by “crossing the line.” I felt the searing pain of poison running into my veins. 

The second witch grabbed a fist-full of my hair. The demon grabbed me by the arm. I cried out; they held me tighter, claws digging into my flesh.

“No witch or demon can ever trust you knowing you were created to serve Belos. So don’t try—“

I yanked my head out of the witch’s grip and head-butted Zira. She stumbled back and fell on the desk behind her. The demon rushed to help her up, releasing his grip on my arm. I made a break for the door. I was reaching for the handle when an invisible force drew me back. Whichever witch had cast the spell released it and I fell on the ground. Zira, her nose crooked and bleeding, stepped on my chest.

“You aren’t leaving until you’ve learned your lesson.”

When I heard those words, words I’ve heard before, they struck me like ice—cold and burning. For a second, it made me want to lie there, grit my teeth, and take whatever they were going to do to me. But it also set off another set of instincts. I became acutely aware of my body—not its pain, but the space it occupied. The situation before me came into focus; I knew where each assailant stood, I knew the position of the desks. I knew how to fight my way out.

I kicked out the legs of the nearest student—the red-haired witch. She dropped to the ground. I rolled away from the other two and got to my feet. I didn’t have a staff, no weapons at all. I’ve grown weaker, especially in the last few weeks. But something…something came over me. I couldn’t feel the pain or the weakness anymore. Zira and the others seemed surprised that I was fighting back. I found a bit of satisfaction in that.

I grabbed the nearest chair and threw it at the demon. He blocked it with a spell, but I wasn’t trying to hit him with the chair. I slid across the floor and knocked his legs out from under him. He fell and dropped the chair on himself. I felt myself smile, almost laugh at that. Then I turned my attention to Zira. I grabbed her cowl and pushed her against the nearest desk. In the corner of my eye, I saw the red-haired witch move to draw a spell. Almost instantly, I was in front of her, pressing my foot onto her wrist. 

“What is wrong with you?” Zira said. She didn’t sound disgusted anymore; she was scared. 

The demon boy got up and came at me. He tackled me to the floor and pinned me down with both hands. He met my eyes for one second, and I saw that same fear I heard in Zira’s voice. I kneed him in the gut and shoved him off of me. He backed away.

“His eyes…” The demon said. “Why do his eyes…”

I turned back to Zira. Her eyes were wide in horror as she pulled out her palisman staff. The sight of it shocked me to a halt.

“Don’t come any closer!” She said, aiming the staff at me. My gaze caught on the palisman glowing at the end. My next urge was to reach out and grab it and break it off the staff. No no no, I thought, or maybe I said it out loud. Don’t do that, I can’t do that.

In my moment of hesitation, the demon got me in a chokehold. I reached up and clawed at his face. I felt his skin scrape under my fingernails. He shouted in pain and pulled tighter, cutting off airflow.

“Let’s just get out of here,” the red-haired witch said. “This isn’t worth it!”

With her staff still aimed at my face, Zira looked from the witch to the demon to me. In her moment of hesitation, I reached out for the end of her staff—for her palisman. It was too far.

“No!” She screamed, moving further from my reach. “Bas was right about you, you–you– palisman hunter!”

I kept scratching at the demon. I knew it was over. I couldn’t stop fighting.

“Lia, get the potion.”

The red-haired witch came up to me, potion in hand.

“Careful,”  Zira said. “He might bite.” 

Lia tentatively brought the potion towards me. The demon wrapped an arm around my head and held it in place, tilted up. I shut my mouth. They pulled it open. The potion poured into my throat. My body still wanted to fight, but elixir was stronger than I was. I felt myself going limp in the demon’s grasp until he dropped me. The three of them ran out of the classroom. 

I’d assumed that the potion they forced down my throat was a sleeping elixir; it was a paralyzer. All I could do was lie on the floor and wait for it to wear off–or for someone to find me. My guess was 15 minutes for the potion, if it was the same kind we made at the end of Potions I. It could’ve been modified to last longer, or to wear off faster. I’m not sure how much time passed before I gained control of my fingertips and, gradually, the rest of my body. I didn’t bother getting up right away. I moved to a slightly less uncomfortable position and waited.

When the bell screamed to mark the end of the period, I knew I had to get out. Using the desks and chairs for support, I made my way to the door. Then I heard voices from outside.

“...Yes, sir, this is the room!” Zira.

“We’ll take it from here, Ms. Pestris.” Principal Bump. 

“But–!”

“Thank you for bringing this to our attention,” Bump said. “You ought to head back to the healing homeroom.”

I heard the turn of a lock and ducked behind a desk. But there was no point trying to hide. Bump found me cowering. All the fight in me was long gone. I waited for punishment.

“Hunter,” Bump said gently, like he was talking to a lost kid looking for their parents. “Can you tell me what happened?”

I shook my head.

“Zira Pestris told me you attacked her and her friends,” he said. “Is that true?”

I didn’t respond. I did attack them, but they provoked me.

“I don’t want to jump to conclusions without hearing both sides of the story,” Bump said. “Why don’t we go talk someplace else?”

I nodded. He put his hand down to help me up and I took it. Do I even need to tell you that people were staring? I will say, they looked even more scared and angry than before. Word gets around fast.

It was easy to figure out what Zira had done. They all must have been pretty banged up after that. I don’t really remember everything I did. It might’ve been worse than what I’ve already said. And me? I was relatively uninjured, maybe bruised from slamming my forehead into Zira’s nose, but not bleeding.

In Bump’s office, I tried to figure out what I had done. What should I tell him? How do I prove they started it? 

“Now, you know we cannot tolerate violence here at Hexside.” Principal Bump sat on the other side of his desk. The barrier between us put me slightly more at ease. “Especially not between students. If you don’t talk to me, I’ll have no choice but to take Zira at her word.”

“They attacked me first.” My mouth was bone dry, my voice was cracked. “It was self-defense.”

“Tell me exactly what happened, Hunter.”

“They cornered me after class. I don’t know what they were going to do to me. One of them, maybe two, they grabbed me. I-I uh, Zira got really close to me, so I hit her nose. With my face.”

“Did they say anything to you before the fight began?”

“They said I—I mean, they told me I needed to stay away from real witches and demons. Because I’m—well, you know.”

Bump raised an eyebrow at me as if he didn’t know. Guess he wanted to hear me say it.

“Grimwalker,” I said, my voice small around this word that feels so heavy. “Because I’m a grimwalker.”

He wrote something on a piece of paper. “Ah, yes. About that,” he said. “Having known you for many months myself, I have been operating under the assumption that the majority of the on-going speculation regarding grimwalkers and yourself has been false, however…”

My chest tightened. I didn’t like where this was going.

“Zira told me, and the other two students confirmed, that you became extremely aggressive when they mentioned the deceased emperor.”

Oh.

“They also stated that you attempted to attack Ms. Pestris’ palisman.”

Oh no.

“Is that all true?”

Yes . I felt dizzy. My heart pounded in my head. 

“Hunter?”

They were right about me. I’m a freak, a palisman killer, a slave to my dead creator. A monster. 

Principal Bump stood up. I got out of my chair and knelt on the floor.

“I accept whatever punishment you deem fit for me,” I said, bowing my head. I just hope it’s quick.

I was met with silence. I waited. This was always the part I hated the most. Waiting while Belos calculated how severe the consequences would be. Feeling him loom over me as I thought of every option he had used before, wondering if I would be dealt some new form of pain.

Bump put his hand on my shoulder. I forced myself not to flinch.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Hunter,” he said. “Responding to violence with violence wouldn’t help anyone, especially not you. And I do want to help you.”

I didn’t speak or move.

“I have some ideas, but I’ll need to speak with Edalyn before proceeding,” he said.

I looked up at him. “No. No, you can’t tell Eda. Don’t tell her. She can’t know.”

Bump looked down at me with pity. “I’m afraid I have to inform your guardian.”

“No no no no no…” I sat back, shaking my head and pulling at my hair. “She can’t—She can’t—She—” 

“I’m going to send her a crow; once she gets here we can discuss our next steps.”

I wanted to scream. That isn’t going to help. I wanted to throw something. Don’t be stupid. I wanted to hurt myself. That will make it worse.  

I kept my grip on my hair, unable to breathe right or think right. I heard Bump speaking, but I couldn’t process any words. Why couldn’t he just hurt me? Was he trying to be nice? Did he sincerely think this was the kinder option?

When Eda showed up, Bump asked me to tell her what happened. She looked at me in confusion or concern or fear. I looked away, shaking my head no . Bump gave her a brief explanation of what happened. Three students had been taunting him, something they said provoked him to attack them and one of their palismen. The other students received injuries ranging from deep scratches to a broken nose. He didn’t tell me much, but he confirmed those details.

“Has he said anything else?” Eda asked, glancing at me.

Bump cleared his throat. “Not really, no. But I would like to discuss this further with you, in private.”

He asked if I wouldn’t mind stepping into the sitting room outside his office; Eda told not to run off; I numbly complied. A scream from the bell marked the start of lunch period. My friends were probably wondering where I was. No, they had probably heard about what happened from some second or third hand source already, an exaggerated version of the story like the exaggerated version of my face on that flyer.

I know Zira and her friends started it. But I don’t know if they were actually going to hurt me. I don’t know what they were going to do at all. They grabbed me, but it might not have been as aggressively as it felt in the moment. I’m always overreacting to people touching me. They didn’t really try to hurt me until after I broke Zira’s nose—I fucking broke her nose. And the palisman…I was just….I was defending myself, right? She was pointing a weapon at me. I just wanted it all to stop. I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t mean to do any of it.

After Eda and Principal Bump finished their private conversation, Eda came out without him. She knelt in front of the chair where I had been sitting and compulsively bouncing my leg and looked up at me.

Okay, kiddo. I want you to know, I’m not mad at you. You’re gonna take some time off from school which, yeah, is a nice way of saying you’re suspended. Don’t worry; it happens to the best of us. Look, I know you haven’t exactly been feeling great lately, and good ol’ Princy B, he thinks it could be good for you to have, well,  some “professional” help. Hey now, don’t give me that look. I’ve heard good things about therapy from Lilith. Bump thinks— we think that it could be good for you. And, um, how do I put this….you’re gonna have to go a few times before you come back to school. I’m going to take you home now, okay? We’ll talk more when you’re ready.

Eda came with me to my locker. New notes had piled up since this morning. I made my first smart choice all day and didn’t read any of them. I got my books and the little Cosmic Frontier figurines Gus gave me and the colored pens from the care package. Eda threw the notes into a trash bin that promptly swallowed all of them. Then we headed for the exit.

“Hunter, wait!”

I turned and saw Gus jogging towards us.

“I’ve been looking for you.” He came to a stop, slightly out of breath. “I heard what happened.” He then seemed to notice that I was carrying an overstuffed bookbag and that Eda was there. He looked from me to her and then back. “You’re leaving,” he said.

I nodded.

“Will you be here next week?”

I shook my head. “Suspended.”

His eyes got all sad. “For how long?”

“Dunno.”

He frowned at me for a second and then hugged me. I knew we would probably hang out this weekend, that school isn’t the only place we see each other. But it felt like he was hugging me goodbye. As I hugged him back, I thought about what happened on Tuesday, how it probably scared him.

“I love you, Hunter,” he said.

All day, I’d been trying so hard not to cry, but I couldn’t hold back my tears when he said that. 

“I love you too, Gus.”

We stood there, hugging while silent tears ran down my cheeks, until the bell went off. It was almost time for every student to flood the halls to get to class. I did not want to be there for that.

“Don’t worry, little bro. I’ll see you soon,” I said as I pulled back. He was crying too. 

He wiped his face with his sleeve. “You’d better.” 

When Eda and I got home, all I wanted was to go to my room and lie down forever. Eda stopped me before I could.

“Hold up, kiddo,” she said. “There’s one more thing we need to talk about.”

“You said we could talk later.”

“I know, I know.” She put her hand on my shoulder. “But this is something we have to talk about right now, Hunter.”

The way she said my name proved how serious she was. “Okay,” I said. “What is it?”

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and then looked directly in my eyes. “Bump told me you said something weird, something about accepting punishment? And that you seemed like you were expecting him to–to hurt you.”

My face burned. Why would he tell her that?

“You’ve said some other stuff to me about feeling like you deserve to be hurt or punished. I just want to make sure…do you think you might try to hurt yourself?”

My first instinct was to deny this entirely. The real answer was yeah, probably. Instead, I just shrugged.

“So that’s a yes.” Eda saw through me. She sighed. “I’m sure you feel guilty about this whole thing, and I understand that. I’m not gonna tell you how to feel. I’m just going to ask you, just for today, not to hurt yourself, okay?”

I looked away. “I already hurt three other people. What’s one more?”

“‘One more’ is a kid I care about who is clearly in a lot of pain, physical or otherwise, who doesn’t need to put themself through any more pain just because someone told them they deserved to be punished for their mistakes.” Eda put her hand on my face and ran her thumb across my cheek bone. “So, at least for today, can you promise me you won’t do anything to hurt yourself?”

“Okay.”

The first aid box was once again removed from my room. I handed over my sewing needles and pins, too. My knife hadn’t been returned to me since last time. I gave Eda permission to tell King, as long as she left out the gory details. She let him know that I wouldn’t be going back to school for a while and that he should make sure I don’t spent too much time alone. To be completely honest, I am glad that she told him. It’s nice to have him sleeping in my room again.

I don’t know what comes next. I’ll have to tell Eda the truth about the poison eventually. My friends will want to know the full story of what happened today. I don’t know if they’ll ever look at me the same way. I’m still resisting the voice in my head telling me I deserve to hurt the way I hurt other people. That voice. You know which one. I’ll hear him in my dreams tonight. I don’t know how long I’ll be able to resist him.

Hunter

Chapter Text

Dear Flapjack,

In reality, it’s not a word I ever called him. I never would’ve thought to. Calling him “uncle” was already a privilege, a name I only got to say in private, like how “Hunter” was a name I only got to hear in private. Growing up, the concept of a father was grouped in with the family who were all killed by wild witches. But I never had an actual father. I never had an uncle, either.

I had an emperor.

A creator.

A god.

When we were in the human realm, my demon realm friends put up drawings of their families. They all have fathers. Maybe that’s where it started. Hearing how badly Willow and Gus missed their dads, how Amity, despite the complications, was desperate to get back to her dad.

And I had no one.

The only parent I ever had was gone. Well, I thought he was gone. But I don’t have to tell you that.

After everything ended, I heard Luz and Eda and King and Raine talk about how satisfying it was, stomping him into the ground. I should’ve been as excited or at least relieved as everyone else. Really, I should’ve been more relieved than everyone else. I would never have to worry about him controlling me ever again.

Right?

Luz noticed how quiet I got when they were telling the story. She found me afterwards.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hey,” I said.

She fidgeted with her hands, anxious. “You must be feeling a lot right now.”

I shrugged. At the end of it all, I was too exhausted to feel much of anything.

“He’s really gone,” she said. “For good, this time.”

“I know.” Maybe it was because he had taken over my body, or because he created me, but I felt it when he died. Maybe I’m just delusional.

“You can tell me if I’m way off base with this,” Luz continued. “But, I mean—god, how do I put this…” She looked at the ground we were sitting on. “It’s not exactly the same, obviously, but I know what it’s like to lose a father.”

Father.

“I know he wasn’t actually your dad, but he was probably the closest thing you had to one.”

“I guess so,” I said. I hadn’t thought of it that way, but he did sort of adopt me, I guess. That doesn’t seem like an entirely accurate way to phrase it anymore.

“I’m sorry.” Luz looked away.

“Don’t be. You didn’t do anything wrong.” That’s a phrase I was getting used to saying.

“No, I mean, I’m sorry that your dad or uncle or whatever he was—I’m sorry that he sucked so bad.”  She shook her head. “I’m sorry that he treated you the way he did. You didn’t deserve that.”

So many people have told me that now. Luz, Amity, Lilith, Willow, Gus, Darius, Eda. I should believe it. I was starting to believe it.

But now?

This morning, Eda came into my room while I was still in bed. She set a coffee mug on the stack of books I use as a nightstand and handed me an ice pack. I sat up slowly, mindful of the various pains in my body. Eda sat down on the second mattress and waited as I pressed the ice pack against my forehead.

“Hey kid. Did you sleep alright?” she asked. “Or at all?”

“Eh,” I said. “Not exactly.”

“Figures.” She leaned back on her hand. “We’re gonna take this one day at a time, okay? We’ll figure out this poison thing and the therapy thing, and it’s going to get better. For now, though, is there anything you want to do today?”

I took a sip of coffee. “What do you mean?”

“You know, games, movies, sightseeing, or if there’s any particular food you’d want to eat. Stuff like that.”

“Oh. I don’t know. I don’t really feel like doing anything.”

“That’s fine. Understandable.” Her eyes flicked around the room; her fingers tapped the mattress.

I set the ice pack down. “Is that all?” I didn’t want to rush her out of the room, but I felt like there was more she was hesitating to bring up.

She sighed. “Do you think you might be able to tell me more about what happened yesterday?”

I took another drink, my shoulders tensed up to my ears. Having written it all down and (sort of) sleeping on it, I did have some idea of what to tell her. I didn’t want to, but I couldn’t avoid it forever.

“There’s something wrong with me, Eda.”

Her eyebrows furrowed, but she didn’t say anything.

“I don’t know if it’s because of what Basil did or if it’s something I was bor— created to be.” I held the mug with both hands. “But I can’t trust myself anymore.”

“What do you mean, kid?”

I took a deep breath, and I told her the truth. “Basil wasn’t targeting me just because I used to be the Golden Guard. It’s because of what I did when I was the Golden Guard. My main job before I became the head of the Emperor’s Coven…” I squeezed my eyes shut and forced myself to say it. “Was to find palismen for my—for Belos. I would bring them to him and he would use them. Kill them. I collected them from wild witches or from those who joined the Emperor’s Coven. Basil was in the Emperor’s Coven.

“They were helping Terra Snapdragon develop this plant for Belos. Evenshade. For whatever reason, they kept working on it after Belos was defeated. The poison only affects plants—plants, and grimwalkers. That’s why Willow didn’t get an infection after the Hexside incident.

“Basil wanted revenge, I guess, for taking their palisman. They think it’s justice for everyone to know what I did. What I am. They think that I—that I—“ I took a shaking breath. I didn’t want to finish the sentence. “They think I killed Flapjack for Belos. Or because I’m a grimwalker or needed to so I could survive, which is sort of true, actually. And they want Hexside and whoever else to know, so they poisoned me. The only cure would be to—to do that to another palisman. And if I don’t…” Writing it down had been one nearly impossible task. Saying it out loud was another level. My voice was tight and quiet as I continued, “If I don’t eat a palisman, I’ll go insane, like, I won’t be able to control myself. The poison will make me do it anyway, or—or I’ll die.”

I looked at Eda for the first time since I’d begun speaking. She was leaning forward, her face lined with that concern that’s become familiar. After a long moment of silence, she said, “They told you all that?”

I nodded.

“And you think that’s why the fight happened.”

I nodded again.

She ran her fingers through her hair. “Okay. Okay. Wow. That witch has a real twisted sense of justice.”

“I guess so.”

“Well, I know so. Getting revenge for their palisman by putting other palismen in danger? That’s a load of griffin shit,” she said.

“But, Eda,” I said. “They’re right. I killed so many palismen, and if I can’t resist this, I’ll kill more.”

“I’m going to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

“But how? There’s only one way to prevent it, and you seemed very opposed to that solution yesterday.”

Eda’s eyes widened. “Oh titan,” she said. “Do you seriously think killing yourself is going to fix this?”

“I can’t be responsible for the deaths of any more palismen.”

“Listen, kid.” She stood up and pointed at me. “I’ve been living with a curse since I was your age. A curse that made me hurt people I love. I pushed everyone away so I couldn’t hurt them too. You think I never thought about doing myself in? After what I did to my dad? I know you would probably rather die than hurt another person or palisman, but if you think I’m gonna let you hurt yourself , you’re a bigger idiot than I thought. If that Basil fucker can make an evil plant specifically to torture you, we can make a not evil plant-idote to heal you.”

“I appreciate that but—“

“Nuh-uh-uh!” she interrupted. “I may not be the most powerful witch on the Boiling Isles anymore, but we have some powerful friends. Can you imagine what Darius would do to me if I let you die? Or Luz? Or, titan forbid, Camila?” She shook her head. “Nope! We’re going to figure this out, and by ‘we,’ I mean every witch, demon, and human that gives a damn about your sorry ass. Got it? Good.”

I was speechless. There was clearly no point arguing with the Owl Lady. 

I can’t say I felt much better after that. I’d like to be as convinced as she is that an alternate cure is possible. Instead, I fear this will only prolong the issue. This poison, this curse, it already made me lash out once.

You’ll crave it until you get what you need, or you’ll die hungry.

I curled up on my bed. Tears ran down my face, dripping from the bridge of my nose onto my pillow. Telling Eda should’ve made me feel better, right? She seems confident that I can survive this without killing, without eating a palisman. I thought about that dream I had the night after the Hexside attack.

You may not want to, Hunter. But you can’t decide what you need .

When he said that to me—in real life, I mean—we were up late in his study. He was doing some work I don’t remember the details of; I was doing homework. It must’ve been history or linguistics, because I wanted to stay up even later. Though, it’s possible that I had other reasons to avoid going to bed.

“Oh dear,” he said when the clock struck midnight. “We need to get you to bed, don’t we?”

I groaned and put my chin on the table I studied at. “Do we have to? I don’t wanna go to bed,” I said. 

He sighed in amused annoyance. “You may not want to, Hunter, but you cannot decide what you need.”

I knew better than to protest a second time. He was in a good mood, and I planned on keeping it that way. I gathered my books and quill and followed him to the door.

I must have been 10 at the time; I remember having a bandage around my knee and limping when he walked me to my room. That was another need I didn’t choose. I needed to go to bed. I needed to be taught a lesson. I needed to forget my wants. 

Those words would repeat in my head for years. Whenever I thought about what it would be like to live outside the castle, to exist as a normal witch, I remembered that the needs my uncle told me I had were more important than any desire I found for myself. 

The memory is so strange to think about now. It would be easy to say that an interesting school subject is what made me want to stay up, but I don’t remember the lesson. I remember the warmth of my uncle’s study, the intimacy of being allowed inside that room, the way he smiled when I voiced my childish complaint. His bad moods were becoming more frequent, as evidenced by the bandaged gash on my knee. I savored the way he stroked my cheek before leaving me alone in my room. I didn’t want him to leave.

That was the moment I relived in my dreams this afternoon. Not the warmth or his smile, but my chest-crushing desire for him to stay. In the dream, he isn’t emperor or uncle; he’s dad.  

And I was his obedient little son. When I made a mistake, I apologized. When he broke my body in response, I thanked him.

That night, after he took me to my room, he paused in the doorway. “One last thing,” he said. “I’ll be stopping by to observe some of tomorrow’s training session. I look forward to seeing how you’ve improved since the last incident.” He smiled, but the warmth was gone. “Goodnight, Hunter.”

My skin went cold. I knew the real reason he was coming to observe. After I’d botched my previous test, he wanted to make sure I’d taken his lesson to heart. 

“Goodnight, uncle.” I forced myself to smile until he closed the door, then I pulled my blanket over my head so I could cry without him hearing.

Today in the Owl House, I tossed and turned in my bed. The pain isn’t unbearable, but I felt the poison crawling under my skin, keeping me from finding any semblance of comfort. 

I just want this out of my body. I want my body to be mine .

Hunter

Chapter Text

Dear Flapjack,

The last time I was in the Head of the Boiling Isles, I was supposed to die.

I was always told the the Head was a sacred place, that only Belos, the Titan’s prophet, was permitted to enter. When I became the Golden Guard, I was granted permission to join him. There were strict boundaries. I was to stay on the path and never walk away from his side. He warned me that if I strayed from the acceptable areas, I would be punished by the Titan himself.

Thanks to the son of the Titan, I found out the real reason I wasn’t allowed off the path.

Lilith came over last night. She claimed it was because she had research notes to update me on, but I knew she was mostly there to babysit me while Eda went to the night market. Still, I hoped she’d found information that might help us figure out a way to cure the poison.

“All the literature I could find is deeply inconsistent,” she told me. “The vast majority are incomplete; the only complete ones are modern interpretations of myths and rumors. It’s nearly impossible to discern the veracity of any of these works.”

I scanned her pages of notes. There was a list of instructions without ingredients, there were stories without sources, there were stern warnings against attempting to create one. Nothing was ever written from the perspective of a grimwalker, never an account of meeting a grimwalker that was a normal person who just so happened to be a clone. There was definitely nothing on grimwalker-specific ailments or cures.

“Why is there no accurate information?” I scowled at the worthless papers. “How did Belos figure out how to make them if there’s not a single complete list of ingredients and directions?”

Lilith rested her chin on her hand, thinking. “No complete list that we can find,” she said. “He must have had his own instructions. It would make sense for him to restrict that knowledge from the rest of the population.”

Of course.

He would’ve had to keep it where no one else would find it—especially me. He kept detailed notes on all his projects. I’d seen diagrams of the artificial staffs he made, extensive writings on the portal door. Somewhere in the castle, there had to be a journal where he’d written out every detail of the experimentation. He’s the only one who’s actually made a grimwalker in the last 500 years. His private notes would be the most accurate first-hand information we could possibly find.

I tried to think of where he would hide them. I was permitted into his study, the place most of his writing was kept. I'd had access to the library of prohibited works. I had almost entirely free-reign of the castle by the time I was promoted to head witch. But there was one place more strictly forbidden than anywhere in the castle.

“I know where it is,” I said. “I know where we can find his records.”

I told Lilith what King told me about the graveyard in the Head. Only, I didn’t use the word “graveyard.” I said, “There’s a place in the Head where he kept previous experiments. No one was allowed down there. I didn’t even think he went down there. But if he kept that other stuff there, his notes were probably there, too.”

“Hunter, you’re a genius!” Lilith said. “If we get those notes, we may be able to figure out how to heal your curse. We need to find them as soon as possible.”

It was the urgency that kept them all from overthinking the implications of where I suggested we go. In the morning, I gathered with Lilith, Eda, Darius, Raine, and Amity in the living room of the Owl House. King expressed wariness of the idea, but I didn’t let him explain. King knows what it's like to see the remains of his ancestors, and he knows what it's like to have the truth hidden from him. I told him that I wasn’t going to be left out of this mission because Eda and Darius and whoever else might think I’m not strong enough to see the bodies of past Golden Guards. They had already hesitated, and all they knew was that it was vaguely Golden Guard related. I told them and myself that I had to do this.

The mission was simple: fly to the head, find the location at which Belos kept his experiments, and find all the notes he made about those experiments. Calling them experiments kept me from thinking too hard about what we might actually find.

Amity was the first to arrive at the house. “Hey,” she said to me. Her eyes scanned the room, empty aside from me. “Are you…doing okay?”

I shrugged. “Kinda numb to it at this point.”

“You know, I’ve heard a lot of crazy rumors going around,” she said. “But I think I’d rather get the story from someone who was actually there.”

“I doubt the rumors are any worse than what really happened.” I crossed my arms. “Doesn’t matter anyway. It’ll be a long time before I come back to Hexside.” If I come back to Hexside.

“Sorry.” Amity looked down and away from me. I felt kind of bad for brushing off her question.

“Let’s just focus on the task at hand,” I said, hoping to change the subject. As I did, Raine came through the front door, loudly announced by Hooty. Eda, who I hadn't seen since the night before, appeared downstairs as soon as Raine walked in. 

Lilith and Darius arrived not long after. The six of us went over the plan and divided ourselves into pairs—Eda and Amity, Lilith and Raine, Darius and me. Before we left, Eda pulled me aside and asked if I was really feeling up to this.

“I’ll be fine,” I said. In truth, I felt poison tearing at my muscles every time I moved. But I'm used to pushing through pain. “I can do this, Eda. I swear.”

“Okay, kid.” She ruffled my overgrown hair. “Just don’t let yourself get separated from Darius once we’re in there. King said we might find some gnarly shit.”

“Gnarly shit? Were those his exact words?” I laughed.

When King told me about what he found in the Head, I had no time to process the information, and I got pretty... busy afterwards. I’d barely thought about it since that night. When I did, I couldn’t conceptualize a pit full of old skeletons in any way that felt real. It was an idea that felt as distant as the concept of having a childhood. I kept my mind set on finding those documents, the real answers about what I am. I didn’t care if the answers were worse than the questions. If Belos kept notes as litigiously as I presumed, we would find the truth behind the lie of my life. Everything he ever told me, every fiction he invented to keep me on his path, every excuse for how he treated me. He told me where to walk and I walked; he told where to stay and I stayed. He acted like he was doing me a favor, as if “taking me in” was some selfless sacrifice. I spent every waking hour attempting to repay the favor, trying to prove he made the right choice, that I wasn’t a waste.

I knew there were Golden Guards that came before me, even if I had no clue how many there had been. What was it Basil said? “Golden Grimwalkers.” A long line of facsimiles grown from a desecrated grave. Tools to do his bidding. Toys for him to break.

I prefer not to think about it. I’d rather believe it doesn’t matter. That was in the past, right? So what if I'm a grimwalker? That’s what my friends tried to tell me. Human, witch, grimwalker—it made no difference to them. They, like me, couldn’t conceptualize what being a grimwalker even meant. I’m just as much a person as they are, right? I’m not different in any way that matters. That’s what they said. That’s what they believe. That’s what I almost believed.

When the six of us got to the Head, we divided into our teams to cover more ground. I was the most familiar with the layout, although some things had been broken or destroyed entirely. I still had ideas of where to look. Amity and Eda searched the area that used to house the portal, Raine and Lilith entered the passageways connected to the castle, and Darius and I took the stairs into darkness, the ones I knew would actually lead us to what I wanted to find.

You must never descend those steps, Belos had told me. Not even I am permitted to traverse down there.

Darius walked in front of me, casting a small sphere of purple light to guide us. The further down we reached, the steeper and more uneven the steps became.

If you go down there, I will not be able to protect you from the Titan’s wrath.

I looked over the edge; the light did not reach the bottom. It was getting warmer, humid. My anxiety rose despite repeated attempts to focus on breathing. Breathing itself was becoming more difficult.

The Titan has a great plan for you. It would be a shame to squander it all on childish curiosity.

Over and over, I reminded myself that the real Titan never spoke to Belos, that his words were all manipulation. The real Titan is dead, and they wouldn’t care about us being here anyway. Belos was the one who decided what was sacred. But no matter what I told myself, I couldn’t shake the fear that this would end in punishment.

I focused my gaze on Darius and the steps in front of me. Whenever there was a dropoff or a gap between platforms, he used abomination magic to make a path. Once, the stone beneath my feet crumbled and gave way. Darius caught me and told me to watch my step. The air in the Head was typically dry and stale; it usually smelled like stone and metal from the pipework. But as we came down, it became acrid like the scent of rotting fruit. It got so bad that Darius covered his mouth and nose. My ears started ringing. Near the bottom, the humidity thickened into fog. Soon we could only see the ground directly in front of us. Then we reached the end of the stairs.

Darius cast a greater light. Then he froze, his body stiff and blocking my view. I clenched my fists and stepped around him. What I saw hit me like a blow to the throat.

Dozens. There were dozens of Golden Guards before me. Their decomposed bodies piled on top of each other. Indistinguishable from one heap of bones to the next. Broken masks glinted under the violet light. The air was nearly unbreathable, dense and putrid. 

King had called it an open grave. That was a generous description for what we actually found. It was a dumping ground. Remains unceremoniously discarded, seemingly thrown down from the bridge far above. A bridge I had walked across. I stood next to Belos on that bridge. He knew what we were walking over. He was anticipating the day I would join my predecessors and become another shattered mask.

Darius put his hand on my shoulder. I felt him looking at me but I couldn’t look back. Then he moved away from me and began searching for something. He inspected each skull, each mask. My head buzzed. I couldn’t remember what we came for. My heart was beating slowly, loudly in my head, sending waves of pain through my body. The fog felt like it was weighing me down, willing me to lay here and rot.

I saw Darius drop to his knees in front of a pile of bones. I watched him pick up a mask and wipe off its grime. I told myself to go to him, but my body did not comply. 

In my peripheral vision, I saw a faint flash of blue light. For a moment, I thought I imagined it. Then it pulsed again. There was an entryway, an unnatural cave. I walked towards it, drawn by the strange light. I did not look back at Darius.

The smell of rotting flesh intensified. When the light flashed again, Pipework twisted through the walls and ceiling. The passage opened into a small dark room. The stench was unbearable. My throat constricted; I couldn’t breathe. Blue light pulsed through the room, down dark purple roots into cisterns of mud.

Against my better judgment, I moved closer to get a better look, one step. Then another.

Then I tripped onto a rotting corpse.

I screamed and scrambled back. Bones cracked underneath me. Decomposing flesh stuck to my hands. 

The light pulsed through again, and I realized— those aren’t roots; they’re veins. They were pumping into the basins of mud. No, not mud. When I stood, I saw sludge the color of dried blood. One of the vats of sludge was starting to bubble. 

Oh no.

I stared at it, waited for the light to return. In the brief seconds of darkness, I prayed I was mistaken and that nothing was there and that I was insane and this wasn’t real. Blue light pulsed through the veins and into the cistern to reveal

a hand. A gray hand. Dripping with sludge. Bones partially exposed. Reaching out. 

No.

I wanted to bolt. My mind screamed at my body to run.

The hand in the sludge clenched into a fist. My scream caught in my throat, came out as a strangled squeal instead. I knew what it wanted, what it had been waiting for. But I couldn’t give what it wanted.

The veins began to pulse more rapidly. It was like they were begging me to come take the hand and pull the body out. It was trapped, waiting for the day its creator would come for it. It.

Me.

I tripped backwards over the mangled grimwalker corpse. I crawled away from it. And then I threw up. Acrid, putrid vomit. The color of dried blood.

That was where Darius found me—on my hands and knees over a pool of what looked like blood. He took one look at the room and then pulled me out. I didn’t resist. I couldn’t if I had wanted to.

He dragged me past the bones of my predecessors. It felt like the skulls and masks were staring at me as we passed. Darius took me through another carved passageway. We emerged in daylight. I collapsed to the forest floor and started drying heaving until I broke into sobs. Darius reached out to comfort me. I swatted his hand away.

“Don’t.” I snapped. “Do not touch me.”

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw that hand, reaching for me, dripping like its flesh was melting off. Every time I opened my eyes, I saw the stains on my hands. Blood and rot. 

I don’t know how I can ever look at myself again.

My body, never my body. The same as all the bodies piled in the Head. Created in a tomb. Broken by our creator. 

The urge to run returned. Only pain held me in place.

Eventually, Darius crouched beside me, a safe distance away, and told me the others would be here soon. The others? I almost asked; I’d forgotten there were other witches with us.  I forced myself to sit up. Darius handed me a small towel and I wiped my face and hands. Even then, there was still blood staining my skin.

As the others showed up, I sat against a tree and heard Darius explain what we found. He said that there were stacks of books in that room. I hadn’t noticed those—you know, the things we came for. He described the body I fell on as “additional remains,” but warned Lilith and Raine that they needed to mentally prepare themselves for what they would see. If I had been able to speak, I would’ve told them not to go in at all. Whatever was in those books wasn’t worth it. We can’t cure what I am.

Not a witch. Not a human.

Blood and rot. Putrid. A perversion.

Eda took me and Amity back to the Owl House while the former coven heads went to investigate further. I don't really remember the flight back. Eda must have carried me As soon as we got there, I went upstairs to take the hottest shower of my life. Amity stopped me outside the bathroom door.

“Hunter, wait,” she said.

I looked at her. It was the first time I’d looked in someone’s eyes since going into the Head. She was sad, worried.

“Are you okay?”

I could’ve laughed. Instead, I silently shook my head.

“I don’t know what you saw down there,” she said. “But whatever it was, it wasn’t you. They weren’t you.”

I turned the doorknob. “Aren’t they?”

That made her look even sadder. “Hunter…”

“I’ll see you later, Amity.”

I went into the bathroom and locked the door behind me. I wasn’t in the mood for an encouraging speech. She didn’t see what I saw. She doesn't know what she's talking about.

I was in the bathroom so long, Eda came and checked on me multiple times. I used the hottest water I could. It wasn’t enough. Nothing was enough. I still feel it. It replays in my head over and over. Exposed bone. Rotting flesh. Mangled corpse.

If I could cut this feeling out of my body, I would. It doesn’t matter if I hurt myself. Why should anyone care? I don’t matter. I don’t deserve to be here. I’m just another used and wasted body.

As I walked to my room, I overheard Eda telling Hooty to put the house in ‘security mode.’ Guess she’s afraid I’ll run out there and kill myself. But I don’t have the energy for that. The poison will do the job soon enough anyway.

I know what I’ll see in my sleep tonight. Or this morning, really. The sun is going to rise soon. I should just get whatever horrific nightmares I’m going to have over with.

Goodnight, Flapjack. Sorry you died for a walking corpse.

Hunter

Chapter Text

Dear Flapjack,

In the first dream, I am in the grimwalker lab. I reach into the bubbling cistern and pull out a skeleton wearing the mask and cape of the Golden Guard. It falls on top of me.

In the second, I see myself take the reaching hand and watch it drag me under the sludge. I drown in grave water.

In the third, I watch the corpse come to life. It lifts its head and I see my face rotting off its skull. It puts its hands around my throat.

Between each dream, I almost woke up. My body craved sleep, but my mind invented new ways to torture me each time I drifted off. The dreams started to blur together, disjointed images of skin falling off my hands. Exposed muscle and sinew disintegrating off my bones. Drowning in goop made out of blood. Reaching for the surface. Swallowing mud. 

At one point, I woke up enough to open my eyes. I told myself to get up. No more nightmares. Please.

Sleep dragged me back down. 

The last dream began as a relief. Instead of the heavy fog and darkness of the grimwalker pit, I was in a warm, bright hallway in the castle. I was walking to my uncle’s study. I carried a heavy stack of books. This was routine. Something I looked forward to. A weekly appointment where I got to be nephew and Hunter, not Golden Guard. I knocked on the door. 

Just a moment, Hunter. My uncle’s voice was almost sing-songy.

I waited. 

He opened the door. But it wasn’t his study on the other side. It was a long corridor that stretched on further than I could see. My uncle towers over me, looking down with a soft smile, and puts a hand on my back. I don’t know what I did wrong for him to be taking me here. 

Come along, Hunter.

I comply. My body follows him through the corridor.

The Titan has big plans for you. And it would be such a hassle to make a replacement.

We reach the room of pipework and stone. An empty room no one else in the castle would think of twice. I can hear the heartbeat of the Titan echoing through the metal pipes. 

What a shame, uncle says. I told you not to stray from the path, but here you are.

I stand still, waiting for the transformation. But he doesn’t hit or cut me. He grabs me, cursed hand lifting me into the air.

This is for your own good. 

He drops me. I fall through the floor into cold darkness. Falling. Trying to scream. No sound comes out. Then I hit water. I try to swim up, but the water turns to mud. All I can see is a pair of glowing blue eyes. I reach up. He pushes me back down. I gasp and swallow thick blood into my lungs. I am reaching for him. He is holding me under. 

I woke up shivering and drenched in cold sweat. I gasped for air and threw off the covers. I needed to shower again.

Swallowing a surge of nausea, I dragged myself out of bed and into the bathroom. I took another burning shower. I twisted my neck trying to see the poison growing around my ribs. I watched clear water swirl down the drain, cleaner than I’ll ever be. Afterwards, I stared at the towel that covers the mirror. I thought about the glass behind it, how easy it would be to break into jagged shards.

I got dressed and went downstairs.

“This is truly a remarkable find,” Lilith was saying when I came downstairs. She was sitting at the kitchen table with Eda and Raine, going through stacks of grimy old books. “Even aside from the—”

Eda elbowed her. The three of them all looked at me like they thought I would shatter if I heard the wrong words.

“Good morning,” I said, trying to be normal. Two dozen books from the most forbidden place were stacked on the table, books that contained answers about what I am, what I’m made from, books I was never meant to see.

“Good morning, Hunter!” Lilith said, overly cheery. “There’s griffin eggs on the stove for you.”

“And cold toast on the counter,” Eda added.

“And fresh coffee by the sink,” Raine said.

And centuries of hidden knowledge on the table, I thought. But yeah, breakfast is definitely the first thing on my mind.

I poured a cup of coffee and took the toast. The eggs were too rich for my weak stomach. I sat next to Eda and reached for the nearest book.

“Hold it, blondie.” Eda reached over like she was going to grab my wrist, but she didn’t touch me. “Are you sure you want to see all this?”

I bristled. “Don’t try to protect me from this,” I said. “I’ve been protected from this shit long enough.”

“We’re not trying to hide anything from you, Hunter,” Raine said. They leaned forward to look at me from behind Eda. “But we don’t even know what ‘this shit’ is yet. We want to sort through it first, so we can prepare you for whatever we find. But we won’t hide it.”

I held the book, one of the thinner ones off the stacks, and waved it around. “You scared I’ll have a full mental breakdown if I read this?”

Eda, Raine, and Lilith all answered at the same time.

“-Well, yeah.” 

“-Yes.”

“-Ehhh? Probably.”

Their frankness surprised me. It was sort of nice to get a direct answer for once; I respected it. “Oh.”  I reluctantly set the book down. “I guess that’s a fair assumption.” Eda and Lilith have seen me freak out about old writing twice already.

I spent the day attempting to myself occupied while Raine and the Clawthorne sisters flipped through each book and made notes of their contents—I sewed a patch onto the undershirt I was wearing when I got stabbed. I organized the shelves in my room and replaced the book-stack nightstand with a wooden box. I started thinking about the grimwalker corpse I desecrated and took another shower. I paced in my room and tried not to imagine all the ways I could’ve ended up as just another body in a pit. I started feeling faint and sat down staring at the wall for an hour. When I couldn’t take it anymore, I took my sorry ass downstairs for a progress report. 

“We haven’t done a thorough read-through of any of them,” Lilith told me. “But we have organized them by subject and form.” She went on to explain that not all of the books were grimwalker related, at least, not exclusively—several were studies on wild magic, and there were a couple of necromancy-centric tomes. But nearly half the books were notes and studies written by Belos. They dated back hundreds of years, to when he made the first grimwalker.

All those notes, hundreds of pages of observational study, books on wild magic that had been hidden from everyone else—it reminded me of myself. All the secrets I shoved under my bed. I remembered the private journals I used to keep; they weren’t like this one, though. They’re filled with fieldnotes and mission plans and phrases Belos made sure I’d never forget.

Raine told me that they had found the most recent of Belos’ journals. They didn’t hide the fact that that journal contained the details of my creation and life. They said they wouldn’t stop me from reading it, but that they recommended waiting to decide. I stood there holding the closed book in my hands, felt the leather imprint creases into my skin. I got that buzzing in my head again, same as when Darius and I found the Golden Guards. Then I put the book on the table.

“Not yet,” I said.

The three of them looked between each other, silently communicating something I couldn’t comprehend. Then Lilith cleared her throat.

“There is one I think you should take a look at.” She took one of the larger volumes from a stack. “This has a complete list of instructions and ingredients; I believe it could help us understand how to heal your curse.”

That’s the phrasing she keeps using. Heal your curse. Not poison or infection. Curse.

I accepted the book from her and flipped to the marked page.

Galdorstone. That one had been mentioned in works I’d already read, even in my geology class. Stonesleeper lungs and selkidomus scales . I had been sent on missions to hunt those creatures before; Belos never explained why he wanted me to track them down. Bone of ortet. I didn’t know what an “ortet” was, but I knew what bones he had been using. 

But there was one ingredient that stood out from the others: Palistrom wood. According to these instructions, a lot of palistrom wood. All this time, I thought the palistrom forests had been destroyed to create palismen for Belos. The image of him cracking palismen from their staffs flashed through my mind, then the image of skulls and masks piled at the bottom of a pit.

Did he do that to the Golden Guards too? Does the palistrom in a grimwalker contain the same magic as a palisman? 

No. It couldn’t be. My blood is as red as a witch’s, not green.

But if it is the same, maybe that’s why...

He killed the grimwalkers when they betrayed him, right? That’s what he said. Every time they choose to betray me. That’s the only reason he would kill them. Not because killing them would help him would give him…

Regardless. In the moment, I diverted my mind from that line of thinking to consider how this information could help us heal the curse. If nothing else, the palistrom wood could be why a poison created for plants was effective against me. It was a place to start.

“Lilith, Eda,” I glanced up from the book. “What do you know about palistrom trees?”

For a few hours, I stopped thinking about myself. Instead of a project to find a cure for me, it became another puzzle and an opportunity to learn more wild magic. Lilith has knowledge of the history of palistrom wood and its various uses; Eda knows how to care for palistrom trees and how they differ from regular trees. But they told me Dell would know far more than either of them.

If Eda hadn’t given me that palistrom seed and said her dad would want me to have it, the idea of asking to speak with him about this would’ve been unthinkable. But if it's true that he likes me, he might be willing to help.

We stayed up talking until Raine started falling asleep on Eda’s shoulder. We took that as our cue to break for the night. Lilith went home and Raine went upstairs with Eda. I tried to go to sleep. My mind wouldn’t rest. I couldn’t stop thinking about the heaps of knowledge sitting downstairs. After tossing and turning until it became too physically painful to keep lying there, I snuck back to the living room. 

The stacks of Belos’ notes were sequestered on the kitchen table. At first, I kept far away from them and instead picked up a book titled Necromancy & Me: Fair Warning Fables, a collection of cautionary tales meant to scare witchlings. I browsed the pages until I saw a title that was strangely familiar: Witchlets in the Wood. The story was written with archaic language, making it difficult to decipher at first. As I continued reading, it started to click. 

Two children get orphaned. With their dying breaths, their parents leave the children in the care of their uncle. 

Oh.

The uncle, greedy for the children’s inheritance, abandons them in the woods. Then their uncle becomes overwhelmed with guilt. He goes back to the woods to find them, but is too late. The children froze to death. The uncle uses a forbidden necromancy spell to try and bring them back, but it goes wrong. Their spirits curse the man to be freezing cold for the rest of his life, never able to get warm or to forget what he did to his niece and nephew.

Reading the story made me remember: my uncle Belos used to tell me a story like this. Maybe I’m remembering it wrong, but I think that in his version, the children get lost in the woods because they disobeyed their uncle. He told them to stay on the path no matter what. For some reason, the children leave the path. The uncle can’t go into the woods to find them because anyone who leaves the path will be lost forever, even if they leave with good intentions. If only they had listened to me, the uncle says at the end. Now they will be cold and lost where I cannot find them.

It was a warning. Obey or die.

I shut the book. Memories of that time pounded in my head. He used to tell me stories. It was so long ago, before I was allowed to interact with anyone outside the castle. He told stories to warn me about the dangers of the world before I had the chance to see it. I learned that disobedience leads to death, that wild witches who didn’t follow the Titan’s will would try to deceive me, that they would masquerade kindness and should never be trusted.

If you stay on the path I show you, you will be safe from wild magic.

Those witches will say they want to help you, but they will only hurt you.

It hurts me when you stray from the path. Why are you hurting me?

I know it hurts now, Hunter, but this will remind you to stay on the path.

I hadn’t thought about it in ages, not until I read the story in that book. I didn’t read any others, but I’d bet he got all those little “parables” from this book and just changed the details. It’s just another lie, another story invented to control me. That’s all he ever did, right? Lie and control. He never cared about me.

I got up, set the book down, and headed for the kitchen. The journal Raine showed me earlier was set aside from the rest.

Belos hid the truth. He hid all these books. There would’ve been no reason to lie while writing private notes. 

I wanted to know what he really thought about me. How he actually felt. Here was my chance to find out.

I opened the journal to a random page and skimmed it until I found my name.

Hunter’s curiosity is insatiable. He’s always reading and asking questions. As of late, most of his questions have been about the Titan. He seems somewhat doubtful, but I could be misreading his intentions. So long as he comes to me for answers, I will allow his questions to be asked.

I flipped to an earlier page.

Despite some minor setbacks, Hunter is performing quite well in his studies. I admit, I had my doubts about raising a grimwalker from childhood. I’ve been surprised by how much I enjoy his presence. I find myself looking forward to our meetings.

Another page.

I confess I have found more fondness for Hunter than his predecessors. He looks at me with such awe in his eyes. He is always prepared to be by my side at a moment’s notice. Even after I have had to discipline him more harshly, he still comes back to me. In all my years of grimwalker creation, he has shown the most promise. I feel strangely proud of his progress.

Another.

It hurt deeply to learn that Hunter has been secretly reading about wild magic behind my back. He told me he was reading the books to help with my curse; he’s well-intentioned but dreadfully naive. My demonstration of the danger of wild magic should be a strong enough warning to bring him back to my side. I don’t enjoy hurting the boy, but he forced my hand. While he bandaged his face, I explained how much his disobedience hurt me. When I began to leave, he took hold of my cloak and asked me—

I slammed the book closed and threw it on the table. I know how that story ends. I didn’t need to be reminded. My scars burned, my muscles tightened from the poison. I had to get away from those books.

When I made it back to my room, I didn’t sleep. Even awake, I can hear his voice in my head. I thought about taking yet another shower, but standing is too painful right now. I started biting my nails and then sucking my fingertips like I did when I was little, and I heard his voice telling me to put my hands down and stop acting like a child, Hunter. I thought writing might help, but it will be morning soon and I can’t stop thinking and I was so stupid, I mean, what was I thinking opening that journal? Did I think it would make me feel better? Or did I do it because I knew it would make me feel worse? What’s wrong with my head? 

Why won’t it stop?

Chapter Text

You know what’s funny, Flap?

Half the times he “taught me a lesson,” I immediately forgot what I was supposed to have learned.

My memories of those times have nothing to do with his reasons. It’s all visceral. My heart sinking when he told me to kneel. My shoulders tensing as I braced for the impact. Seeing blood before feeling where it was coming from. Staying on my knees until he dismissed me. Thanking him. Stitching the tears in my skin and my clothes.

Once—only once—he made me clean the wound before letting me leave. 

I was bleeding. Badly. It hadn’t been a calculated strike. He had been angry. I had begged, worse than I had in years. I knew better than to cry and ask for mercy. It only ever made things worse.

If I had moved half an inch in the wrong direction, he would’ve taken my eye out.

He wanted me to clean myself up before I left the throne room. Simply putting on my mask was out of the question; any touch to the right side of my face triggered the worst nerve pain I’d ever experienced. If anyone else in the castle saw, they’d ask questions. The Golden Guard goes into a meeting with the Emperor and comes out with a chunk of his face missing. It’d be all anyone could talk about. 

So, while I was on the floor unable to do anything but watch blood stain my uniform, he somehow acquired a basic first aid kit. I got to work. Without a mirror, I had to use touch to figure out where to clean and how much bandaging I would need. It was sloppy, painful work. I only needed the bandage to last until I reached my room so I could do it properly. But my hands were shaking, only making the wound worse as I tried to clean it.

Meanwhile, my uncle stood there and watched.

“Do you see what wild magic does, Hunter?”

I don’t remember responding.

“This wouldn’t have hurt me so much if you hadn’t been lying to me. It pains me to know you don’t trust me after all I’ve done for you.”

Even back then, I could hear the irony of that statement. Him saying how much I hurt him while I was in the worst pain of my life. I shut that thought down, though. It wasn’t my place to question the ways in which he helped me. I reminded myself to trust his judgment, that he only punished me when I deserved it.

He crouched down in front of me. For a split second, I thought he might help me with the bandaging. Then I thought he would strike me again. He just watched. 

I believed him when he said I hurt him, so the fact that he was choosing to stay with me felt like grace. A kindness I didn’t deserve. 

When I was nearly done, he got up to leave. I couldn’t stand the thought of being left alone in the throne room. I just wanted him to be there until I finished. So I grabbed his cape.

“Please don’t leave.” I bowed my head. “Not yet.”

When he turned his face to me, there was a flash of anger. I tensed, fearing I had been too disrespectful and would be met with another strike. Then his expression softened and he knelt in front of me. He cupped the left side of my face in his hand and wiped tears or blood from my cheek. 

“All right, Hunter,” he said. “I can stay.”

I was so relieved that the pain became tolerable. He knelt beside me while I finished dressing the wound, an entirely different person than the one gave it to me. I looked at him and saw my uncle smiling kindly, not the volatile emperor who could lash out at any moment. I remember looking at the scar across his face and thinking, Now I’ll have one, too.  

He looked at me and saw a bleeding teenager who would do anything to please him.

When I was done, he handed my mask to me. 

“You know I do this for your sake, don’t you?” He asked me.

I couldn’t bring myself to look in his eyes. “Yes, sir. I know.”

“You’re going to do great things for me and the Titan.” He held his hand out to help me up. “I don’t want you getting distracted.”

I put my shaking hand in his and stood to my feet. “I won’t get distracted. And thank you. For helping me.”

He gently brushed his thumb across my left cheekbone. “I’m so glad you understand.” Then he kissed my forehead.  

It was such a rare display of affection, I didn’t know how to react. So I just stood there, frozen as he put on his own mask and left the throne room. I didn’t snap out of it until the doors slammed shut. 

I walked to my room with my mask on, my cloak stained with drying blood. Sitting at my desk, I pulled the mirror from my first aid box and peeled off the mask and bandage. 

No wonder he didn’t want anyone else to see me like this. 

The proper cleaning and dressing dragged out as I struggled to get my hands to do what they needed to. I felt faint standing up. I spit blood into a towel. I wasn’t equipped to treat a wound like this. Even if I had been in a state to stitch, I don’t think I could’ve sewn this together. The most I could do was keep it clean and covered to stave off infection. Scarring was a given.

It was so confusing. With one hand he attacked me, with the other he wiped my tears. He was always nicer right after a punishment, more affectionate, touching my face and hair, telling me how the Titan had “big plans” for me. But the turnaround had never been this quick. Tearing my face, bringing me medical supplies, saying how much I hurt him, stroking my cheek, kissing my head, leaving me alone. 

The stains never came out of that cloak. 

I can’t remember the moment he struck. I forgot what I did to earn it. But every time I saw the wound while changing the dressing, I felt a wave of shame. I was grateful for my mask. As Golden Guard, I was seen as the Emperor’s most trusted official. I had authority; people respected me. But that authority was as artificial as my magic.

When he called me by my name, I felt small. Only he got to use my name, only he got to see my body, and, after that day in the throne room, only he got to see my face.

Reading those journal entries made me feel small all over again. I expected to read angry disappointment or, at best, cold disdain. But he wrote about me like I was his pet. He said he was fond of me. He liked me. He wanted me to succeed . And he would’ve told me as much. I want to help you be better, he said while he made me take off my gloves. I’m doing this because I love you.

And I believed him. He took everything from me and I thanked him. I gave him everything and it wasn’t enough. I gave him everything and he took even more.

As soon as I “strayed from the path,” any love he had for me evaporated.

I should be past this by now. I got out. He’s dead. Any love I had for him should’ve evaporated as soon as I learned the truth.

I don’t understand why I still feel this way, why I keep having dreams where I cry out for him, for my dad. I don’t want to remember. I’m tired of remembering. And if I tell anyone else that I miss him, they’ll think I’m crazy—or worse. 

I’m so stupid. 

He hurt my friends. He hurt you.  

I should hate him—and I do. I do hate him. I’m glad that he’s gone and that he’ll never be able to hurt anyone ever again. I just didn’t…I didn’t think I would feel so empty with him gone. How fucked is that? No matter how hard I try, I can’t stop hearing his voice in my head.

I’m still fighting it. I promised you I would keep fighting. But it hurts, Flap. And my body…it just wants to stop hurting.

Willow and Gus are coming over tomorrow. Willow and Gus. My friends. My friends are coming over tomorrow. I have to tell them truth about the poison. I have to tell them. I will tell them. They won’t hate me. I know they won’t hate me. They’re too good to hate me. Deep breaths. I just have to take deep breaths. I just have to breathe.

If you were here…What would you say if you were here? What would you do?

You’d pull my hair. You’d say, It’s okay, it’s okay. You would bring me snacks. Gotta eat! you’d say. Hunter gotta eat! And I would wonder why you picked me. Love you! Flapjack love Hunter! And you would mean it. You were the first one to say that to me who actually meant it. 

Willow and Gus. They say they care about me. How do I know they’re telling the truth? Belos said he he cared about me. Then I fucked up. I disobeyed. I wasn’t what he wanted. I was broken.

If I tell my friends the truth about what I did to palismen, they might never look at me the same way. If they see the pit of bones and waste I was made from, they’ll see what a grimwalker really is—what I really am. Willow will never want to touch me again, let alone kiss me. They may all pretend it’s okay, that they don’t care about that shit. But maybe they should. Maybe they should care. 

If Eda’s plan works out and we cure the poison, I don’t know if I can just go back to Hexside. I’ll never be a real witch anyway. I could…I could accept Luz’s offer and live in the human realm for a little while. But that’s only if the plan works, and let’s just say, I am not optimistic. That’s Luz’s thing and she’s not here right now.

But I’ll try anyway. I made a promise. I’ll keep fighting.

Hunter

Chapter Text

Dear Flapjack,

I’ve never been good at lying. 

I was taught that lying is wrong and that liars are bad. Lying was the only thing worse than failing. Failures could be made up for; lying was unforgivable.

So instead of lying, I hid.

It started with something small—I was told to get rid of all the childish belongings in my room. If I was to be a member of the Emperor’s Coven, I needed to stop acting like a child. I put my toys and games in the garbage, but there was one plush I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of. It was a gift from this one coven scout who liked me—and, in hindsight, probably pitied me. She showed me a red frog plush called Sprig, said he needed a friend, and she asked if I wanted to be his friend. I was not entirely sure what a friend was. But I liked Sprig, so I took him to my room.

When I was throwing out my blocks and puzzles and coven scout action figures, I picked Sprig up from my bed. I looked at the stuffed toy I’d been sleeping with for years, the one I held when I couldn’t stop crying the first time Belos cut me, the one I still held close after punishments. I looked at the sack that was about to be taken somewhere and burned. Then I put Sprig under my blanket and pillow. When the scouts came by to collect, I worried they might search my entire room to make sure I had followed orders correctly; Belos liked to be thorough. But they just took the sack. I’d gotten away with it.

The guilt followed me for weeks. The night before I got my sigil, I had a dream that Belos found out about Sprig and decided that, since I couldn’t follow orders, I couldn’t be in the coven.

I got better at hiding things, and not just from Belos. I found books on wild magic at the night market and buried them under my bed. I wore gloves and a mask and became a different person. I kept my name and the Emperor’s secrets to myself. 

I don’t know how my books got found. I probably got careless and left them sitting on my desk. Maybe I let it slip to another scout. Whatever it was, I got back from a mission—a successful mission—and was not met with the approval I anticipated. You know the rest.

I learned that day that keeping secrets was just as bad as lying, if not worse. It took months to earn his trust back. Daily inspections, then weekly, then randomly and without warning whenever he felt like it. He said he needed to make sure there were no signs of wild magic in my room or on my body. He ordered me to show him everything. Everything.

By the time you found me, the inspections were happening less frequently. But I was terrified. The low-grade anxiety I always maintained in his presence got so much worse. I worried he would be able to smell my fear. I warned you. I knew what would happen when he found you.

Ever since I lied to Willow, Gus, and Amity about what I used to do with palismen, I’ve felt that guilt and anxiety every time I’m around them. Even after telling Eda, the mere thought of telling my friends has made me spiral.

They’d hate me. They’re going to hate me. They’ll never be able to trust me. They’ll finally see how disgusting I am. They won’t want me around anymore.

And if they don’t want me, I don’t know what to stick around for.

So, when Gus and Willow came into my room two days ago, my instinct was to keep hiding. The tearing in my scars flared up as bad as the poison in my muscles. I’d been nauseous all day, unable to keep anything down, including Eda’s pain relieving elixirs. My vomit had been streaked with dark green bile. The site of my injury was changing, greenish-gray discoloration spreading around my torso and down my left leg. I was getting worse.

The fear in Gus and Willow’s eyes told me I looked worse, too. Hiding my deterioration wasn’t an option. 

When they came in, they hadn’t asked me how I was. It would’ve been a stupid question. I asked how school was going; they gave one-word answers. Then silence. I sat on the edge of my bed, leg bouncing and thoughts racing. I heard myself swallow. I felt them staring at me while I stared at the floor. 

“Well, um…” I swallowed again. “There’s some stuff going on, and, well, there’s something I need your help with.”

Willow answered immediately, “Whatever you need!”

“Anything at all!” Gus added.

Their response sent a wave of shame through my body. They would do anything for me, and I couldn’t even be honest with them. How pathetic.

I pulled my fingers through my hair. I’d spent all day thinking of how I would phrase this, but the script I made in my mind evaporated. “So, basically, the whole poison thing—it’s sort of worse than I said before, and we don’t really know what to do about it, but Eda and her dad had this idea—well, you see, grimwalkers are sort of made of palistrom wood, and there’s someone they think might be able to help, and it’s uhh, getting kinda dire, so I’m supposed to go see this demon tomorrow, and I’m kinda freaked out about it for reasons, and so I was wondering if you guys could maybe come with us.”

When I finished, I dared to look at them. They seemed, I don’t know, bewildered?

“That’s…a lot of information.” Willow glanced at Gus.

“And yet shockingly vague,” Gus said. “I mean, we’ll still help, but…”

“But it seems like you’re leaving a lot of stuff out,” Willow finished his sentence.

I tried to smile, but it felt more like a grimace. “Does it? I feel like that’s basically everything.”

They frowned at me.

“I mean, it’s not every detail,” I continued. “But we can get to that later.”

“Exactly how much worse is the ‘poison thing’ getting?” Gus asked. “Is it as bad as it looks?”

I shrugged. “Well, it hurts pretty bad, and I’ve thrown up like three times today, and if this plan doesn’t work out we have no idea what else to do.”

“Hunter,” Willow said. “You can tell us.” She put her hand on Gus’ shoulder. “Please.”

I couldn’t look them in the eyes when I said, “I think it might kill me.”

I heard one of them sniffle. I didn’t know how to comfort them.

“B-but if this plan works, then it’ll be fine and everything will go back to normal. I just…I’d feel a lot better if you guys were with me.”

They assured me that of course they would go with me and they apologized for not realized how bad it had gotten and I told them not to apologize. Then they asked if we should tell Luz and Amity.

“I already dragged Amity into this shit once, and I don’t want to put her through any more of it. And Luz—Luz would jump in front of a raging slitherbeast if she thought it would help. I don’t need her to get herself killed trying to protect me, or whatever.”

They nodded in understanding, then Gus asked, “And exactly what, in this scenario, would she be jumping in front of to protect you?”

I took a sharp inhale. “Well, and I probably should’ve mentioned this sooner, the demon I’m asking for help from is actually the Bat Queen.”

I knew Luz and the others were on better terms with the Bat Queen than they were the first time they met—a story Eda told me when she brought this idea to the table. But I also knew the Bat Queen could be volatile. I’d never personally encountered her before. If I had, she probably would’ve killed me. There was still a good chance she would kill me now if she were to recognize me.

Willow and Gus said “BQ” wasn’t really that bad, just intimidating. She wouldn’t attack someone unless they tried to hurt palismen, they told me. I nearly threw up again. Thankfully, the wave of nausea was good cover to change the subject. I excused myself and said they should probably leave so I could rest before tomorrow. Willow cast one more worried glance my way as I left the room. I spent half an hour retching in the bathroom, and then I went back to my empty room and slept until morning.

In my dreams, I watched my flesh rot and fall off my bones.

When I woke up, I had bled through my shirt and blankets. Dark red and weirdly gooey blood stuck the fabric to my skin. “Fuck,” I said. I peeled my shirt up and contorted my neck trying to assess the damage. A shallow wound the size of my hand had opened around the site of the stab wound. The flesh was raw and clearly infected. I don’t know how the wound reopened. I thought I might’ve scratched at it in my sleep, but there was nothing on my hands and there weren’t scratch marks anywhere else. It didn’t hurt any worse than the day before—the shallow open wound was numb, explaining why it didn’t wake me up. I knew the numbness was a bad sign. The infection was killing my nerves.

I looked around the room for my first aid kit before remembering Eda still had it. “Fuck,” I said again. I was too tired to feel an appropriate sense of urgency and would’ve rather crawled back in bed than bother cleaning up. But Eda would kill me if I let an open wound fester instead of asking for her help, so I stumbled to the door.

“Eda!” I called. “Are you awake?”

Instead of Eda, King appeared in the hallway, his head poking up from the top of the stairs. “Hunter?”

I leaned through the doorframe. “Do you know where Eda is?”

“She went to pick something up from Raine’s,” he answered. “She said she’d be right back.”

“Shit.” I winced. “Do you know where my first aid kit is? I need it, like, right now.”

He seemed to understand the urgency, so he ran upstairs and came down seconds later with my familiar red box in hand. He sat in my room with me while I cleaned the wound. I’m not sure if Eda told him not to leave me unsupervised or if he only stayed because he was worried, but I was grateful for his presence. I did most of the work myself. He helped me attach the bandage after seeing me struggle with it for a few seconds.

“Thanks, bud,” I said, smiling at him. 

“You’re going to get the Bat Queen’s help, right?” King asked. “This…really doesn’t look good.”

I nodded. “I’m going to try. But I don’t know if she’ll be willing to help me.” 

“Kid, I already told you—” Eda appeared in my doorway with maroon and black fabric folded over her arm. “BQ ain’t as bad as everybody seems to think. Intimidating, abrasive, threatening, sure. But deep down she’s a big a softy.” She stepped inside, glancing at the first aid supplies, wadded up blankets, and King’s worried expression. “What happened?”

My body tensed. I felt like I’d been keeping something from her. “The wound on my side sort of re-opened. King helped me bandage it. That’s why the first aid kit is here, but you can take it back—”

Eda held up the nub of her right arm. “Calm down, I’m not upset. Just worried. Mind if I sit?”

I shook my head and she took a seat next to me on the bed.

“We’re getting you help, okay?” she said. “My dad will get here before noon and we’ll go as soon as possible. Bat Queen isn’t going to hurt you, and if she tries, your friends and I will protect you.” She held the fabric out to me. “And so will this.”

I took it. The fabric was lightweight, and soft, a material I didn’t recognize. “What is it?”

“A witch’s cloak,” she said. “I’m borrowing it from Raine, so don’t throw up on it or anything.”

“Oh, I’ve read about these.” I unfolded the cloak and held it in front of me. “It’s made from witch’s wool, right?” I thought about getting wool from the night market once, after I read about its protective qualities. But it would’ve been hard to hide an entire cape from Belos, and I didn’t know how to knit anyway.

“You’ve read about it?” Eda snorted. “You’re a bigger nerd than Luz.”

“I didn’t think that was possible,” King said.

“Thank you, Eda,” I said, ignoring the nerd comments. “I really appreciate this.”

“It’s Raine you should be thanking,” Eda said.

“I’ll remember to do that,” I said. “After we get back.”

The preparation for our visit to the Bat Queen’s nest was minimal, and most of it was focused on making sure I would actually make it there. I couldn’t eat, but I managed to keep down a little bit of pain killing elixir. Seeing Dell’s palisman almost brought it back up. I swallowed it back and greeted him with a slight bow, which was apparently not the appropriate greeting despite him being an elder and authority figure. Toast chirped at me, probably saying hi. I avoided looking at them.

Willow and Gus showed up a few minutes after Dell, both in their Hexside uniforms. Clover and Emmaline were in their staff forms. Eda was still upstairs when they came in, so I had to introduce my friends to Dell.

“Oh, right,” I said when they were all awkwardly standing in front of the door. “Dell, these are my friends Willow and Gus. Gus, Willow, this is Dell Clawthorne, head of the palistrom forest repair project and also Eda and Lilith’s father.”

“It’s an honor to meet you, Mr. Clawthorne.” Willow dipped her head and I felt slightly better about my own bow from earlier.

“Please, call me Dell,” he said. “It’s a pleasure to meet the next generation of witches.”

“You were a palisman carver, right?” Gus asked.

Dell nodded. “That’s right, Gus.”

“That is so cool,” Gus said. “Can you still teach people how to carve? You know, Hunter said he—”

“—He was ready to get going!” I interrupted. I was not ready to have that conversation with Dell. “Eda! Let’s go!” Gus gave me a weird look, but I could deal with that later.

As Eda came into the living room, I took the witch’s cloak from the table and pulled it over my shoulders.

“Whoa,” Willow said. “When did you get that?”

I turned and saw her staring and blushing. I felt myself start blushing. “Oh–uh–it’s not mine, I’m just borrowing it. From Raine.”

“Oh, I thought that you—I mean, the red…Never mind.” She turned and fidgeted with the hem of her uniform. I could not figure out what she was talking about.

As Willow, Gus, and Dell headed out the front door, Eda grabbed my right hand. “Hold on, kid,” she said.

I turned to face her. We’re almost the exact same height now, and it felt strange to meet her eyes without looking up. I feel older than I am most of the time. There’s a disconnect between me and my friends—not that they’re immature. They can just, I don’t know, relax in a way I can’t. But with Eda, I feel so small and young. It’s not a feeling I particularly like, but meeting her at eye level made me remember: I’m not a kid. I have to be strong enough to face my own problems.

“Are you gonna be okay for the flight there?” She asked me. It took a second for my mind to catch up with what she was saying.

“Yeah,” I answered. “It’s not that far, right?” 

“No, but I don’t want you falling off Owlbert halfway there. Or puking.”

“I won’t,” I said. “I can handle this.”

“Okay. I trust you.” She ruffled my hair. “But let me know if that changes, blondie.”

It wasn’t until we were flying there that I fully realized what we were about to do. What I was about to do. I had never personally encountered the Bat Queen before, but I had heard stories. Coven scout missions to get palismen from her forest never ended well, to the point that they were banned outright. Scouts who went in were lucky if they ever came out. She knew what they were coming for.

When I found out about Hexside’s palisman adoption day, it felt like striking gold. The Bat Queen was practically handing palismen over to me. It was a golden opportunity to prove my worth to Belos. A mission to her nest, which I had considered before, would’ve been a huge risk. Though, if it had come down to it, if we needed palismen badly enough, I would’ve gone there eventually. But bringing palismen to the school? I thought it was the best thing that could’ve happened to me.

I guess it actually was, just not in the way I expected.

Now, flying over the Boiling Isles with Eda Clawthorne, I couldn’t stop thinking about how much I deserved the Bat Queen’s wrath. I didn’t form a plan or script of what to say to her; I couldn’t imagine saying anything to her at all. The truth is, if my friends weren’t with me, I would’ve lost my will to go through with this.

Then there was the fact that I was about to be surrounded by dozens, if not hundreds of palismen. Eda was the only one who knew about my fear of losing control. I believed she was capable restraining me if needed, but I also knew that Bat Queen would kill me before I could lay a hand on any of her palismen, a fact that was both comforting and horrifying.

After our flight through clear skies, we landed in a gray forest. Fog and silence hung in the air. My anxiety was rising, which was bad news for my infection. I glanced at the others to see if they were as tense as I was, but Eda and Dell seemed perfectly at ease. At least Gus and Willow looked nervous. I walked in between them. The Clawthornes led the way.

We passed through a cave-like tunnel formed by trees twisting and growing together. Cob webs hung low between branches and stone. Bones crunched underneath our feet, making Willow wince with each step. I probably should’ve been more freaked out by walking across a boneyard, but at this point, I’ve seen worse.

In the clearing past the tunnel, low fires burned in stone hearths surrounded by piles of gold. On a platform in the center was the shadowy shape of the Bat Queen.

“Hiya, BQ!” Eda said, waving. “Long time no screech!”

I could see why missions to the nest were banned. In addition to the crushed bones littered at the entrance, there were skeletons scattered around the clearing. The trees overhead were so dense it would be nearly impossible to fly out without using the narrow tunnel. And then there’s the Bat Queen, surrounded by fire and gold, head and wings and talons, bigger than the five of us combined.

Bat Queen opened her eyes—magenta, flaring in the firelight—and lifted off the platform, landing directly in front of Eda. Willow and Gus grabbed onto me and I pretended that wasn’t extremely painful for me. Bat Queen stared at Eda, who stared right back. Their stare-down lasted longer than I would’ve been able to stand. Then three tiny Bat Queen babies flew out of her hair and swarmed Eda. They screeched and crawled all over her. For a second I thought they were attacking, but Eda just laughed and held them.

 “Owl Lady,” Bat Queen said, smiling. Then to Dell, “Clawthorne.” Then she turned her eyes to us. “And guests.”

Willow and Gus waved and laughed nervously.

“What brings you to my nest? We do not have plan to tend the forests today.”

“Bat Queen,” Dell said, leaning on his staff. “I apologize for arriving without warning, but we have an urgent need for your help.”

“My kid is sick,” Eda said. “And you might be our only hope to save him.”

“What could I do to help a witch? Do you not have healers?”

I stepped forward from Gus and Willow. “I’m not a witch,” I said.

Bat Queen turned her whole body to face me. She narrowed her eyes and stepped closer, sniffing. “You are not witch.” She sniffed again. “Nor are you human.”

My hands and legs shook, but I stood my ground. “I…I’m a grimwalker.”

“Grimwalker,” she repeated. “Yes, I smell death on you.” She paused, leaving the air heavy with silence as she kept her eyes trained on me. “I have seen ones like you before. Grimwalker came, tried to steal palismen.” 

I gulped. “I-I’m sorry for the actions of my predecessors.”

“He isn’t the same grimwalker, BQ.” Eda came and stood beside me, the bat babies on her shoulders. “He’s different, and he’s hurt. You know how to care for palistrom wood and the life that comes from it, and grimwalkers—”

“Have palistrom inside,” Bat Queen finished. “I have never cared for grimwalker before. His predecessors are palismen hunters. Why should I trust this one?”

She stared into my eyes as if she could see through me. Behind her, spots of yellow lit up in the trees—eyes. And I knew they were the eyes of palismen. Dozens of pairs looking down upon me, judging me. I realized I couldn’t hide the truth.

“I told you, he’s not—”

“You shouldn’t,” I interrupted Eda. “You shouldn’t trust me. I don’t deserve your help.”

“Hunter…” Willow said from behind me. I glanced back and tried to smile as if I knew what I was doing. Then I knelt in front of the Bat Queen.

“I was the Golden Guard of the Emperor,” I said. “And I was no different than the ones who came here before me.”

Bat Queen clenched her talon, causing thick webs to come from the ground and wrap around me, covering me to my neck. “Why did you bring him here, Owl Lady?”

“Please.” I looked up at her from my place on the ground. “Let me finish.” I didn’t have a plan, and I didn’t believe my confession would change her mind, but she, the protector of all palismen, deserved to know who I was.

She glared down at me but didn’t make a move to harm me, so I continued.

“My name is Hunter,” I said. “Because I was made to hunt wild witches and palismen. I was raised by the Emperor to hate wild magic. And I brought palismen to him. I thought he was using them to heal a curse, and that they weren’t living creatures, He…he killed and ate the souls of palismen to sustain his life. But I was wrong. I found out that palismen are alive, and that the magic my u— the Emperor —consumed wasn’t just magic; it was life.

“I should’ve stopped then. I shouldn’t have done it in the first place. But I didn’t stop. I learned what palismen really are and I kept handing them over to be killed. I killed them.”

I was grateful for the webbing preventing me from seeing the reaction of the others. The Bat Queen, on the other hand, I couldn’t look away from. She didn’t break her gaze, ready to strike me down at any second. I’m sure the only reason she held back was her friendship with Eda and Dell.

“On palisman adoption day at Hexside, I took the hutch of palismen to take them to the Emperor,” I continued. “And that’s how I met Flapjack.”

Bat Queen’s narrow glare softened for just a second. She recognized the name.

“Luz the human convinced me to bring the palismen back to Hexside. I thought that would be the end of it. But Flapjack came back for me. He chose me. I didn’t understand why. But he did. I decided never to bring Belos another palisman, even though I knew he would punish me for it. I protected Flapjack from him. Then, when I ran away from the Emperor’s Coven, Flapjack protected me. He–” my voice broke. “He was my best friend.”

My breaths were haggard as I went on telling her about you. “I loved him. For some reason, he loved me too. He stayed with me even when I thought I didn’t deserve to be alive.”

I’d never told the rest of the story out loud before. I let other people speak for me or avoided the subject entirely. I wasn’t ready to tell it. I did it anyway.

“But then–then Belos found us. H-he took over—he possessed my body and used me to hurt Flapjack. He tried to–to force me to eat him.” I sobbed, fighting to keep it together long enough to finish. “But I resisted, and I-I killed myself so he couldn’t hurt anyone else. Then Flapjack—he gave his life to me. I-I didn’t ask him to. I saw him in my mind and I didn’t understand what was happening and so I tried to ask him. And he said…” I closed my eyes as I recalled the last words you said to me. “Hunter give Flapjack second chance. Now Flapjack give Hunter second chance. Hunter stay.”

I opened my eyes to find the anger gone from Bat Queen’s face, replaced with sorrow. Then her eyes glowed yellow and my body went stiff. I felt her look into my mind. Then she let me go, the webs dropping me to the ground.

“You speak the truth, grimwalker,” Bat Queen said. “Flapjack was noble palisman, chose you to live.”

I pushed myself up to my hands and knees. After a moment of catching my breath, I said, “He did. But someone poisoned me, and they told me I could only be cured by doing what my—what the Emperor used to do to palismen. But I could never do that.” 

In saying that, I realized it was true. No matter what poison or curse was given to me, I would never eat a palisman. I was able to break Belos’ control because he tried to force me to. “I would die first,” I said. “But Flapjack gave me a second chance. I don’t want his sacrifice to be in vain. You don’t have to help me. You have every reason to let me die. You can punish me, kill me. But if you can help, I’m asking you to—for Flapjack.”

The Bat Queen considered me for a moment. My friends and the Clawthornes were silent. Then Bat Queen said, “I will let the palismen decide.”

She spread her wings and from the trees palismen climbed and flew down. The first one to reach me was a little griffin. She sniffed my hand and then nuzzled her face against it. The palismen all came to me, chittering and chirping and mewing and croaking. They landed on my head and shoulders, crawled up my arms and legs. I sat up and started laughing. In the relief, I couldn’t feel the pain in my side. Owlbert, Emmaline, Toast, and Clover came over to me. Tears were still streaming down my face. I felt a warmth in my chest that spread to the rest of my body—a familiar feeling. The same feeling I had as I woke up from the dead.

Bat Queen extended the claw of her wing to me. I placed my hand on it and she helped me to my feet.

“Bat Queen will help you, yi yi,” she said. “Show me the poison.”

I pulled my shirt up and peeled back the bandage. She squinted at the blackened skin and dark green infection. Then she turned to Eda and Dell and told them it looked almost the same as rotting palistrom wood. They agreed and asked if there was anything that could be done to reverse it. She said that, paired other healing ingredients, the sap of a palistrom tree might be able to heal some of the damage, but it may be a long process to fully cure it, if it could ever be fully cured. There wasn’t much sap available, so we would have to be careful with how much we used, but she gave us a full vial.

“Thank you, Bat Queen,” I said before we left. “I will repay this favor someday.”

“Yes,” she said. “I believe you will.”

Outside the clearing on the other side of the tunnel, Willow and Gus embraced me. I winced—the pain was coming back. I’d spent the first half of the day suppressing the pain, and it was catching up to me. I told Eda we should probably get home before I crashed. On the way back to the Owl House, I held onto her.

When we made it, before I went up to my room to sleep for an entire day, I turned to Dell and my friends.

“Thank you,” I said. “Dell, I don’t even know what to say.”

He put a gentle shaking hand on my shoulder. “It’s all right, son. Toast and I knew you were something special. Please, let me know if you ever need anything. I’d be glad to have you around.”

I wasn’t sure how to respond, so I just said thank you again. Then I looked at Willow and Gus. I was losing the energy to speak, but had something to tell them. “I’m sorry,” I said. “For lying.”

They exchanged a look with each other. I don’t know how they can communicate with each other without speaking.

“It’s okay,” Gus said. “I just wish you didn’t feel like you had to lie to us.”

“I thought you might hate me if you knew the truth.”

“We could never hate you, Hunter,” Willow said. “You should really know that by now.”

I blinked away tears. “I know I should. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” She smiled softly, then she reached out and adjusted the shoulder of my cloak. “Earlier, what I wanted to tell you about this,” she said. “The red reminded me of Flapjack. It kind of looked like wings when we were flying.”

I wanted to kiss her. Instead, I hugged her and said thank you again. As I pulled back, she leaned forward and kissed my cheek. My face burned and I could not find the ability to speak.

“Okay, bye, see you later!” She grabbed Gus’ arm and they left.

With what was left of my energy, I took a short shower and redressed my wound. Later that night, Eda would wake me up to give me the first dose of the palistrom sap treatment. She’d say she was proud of me before I fell back asleep.

For the first time in weeks, I didn’t dream about rotting flesh or Belos’ voice or hurting palismen. I dreamed about you and I walking through a forest of green trees. Warm. Glowing. Safe.

Hunter

Chapter Text

Dear Flapjack,

In the week since my visit to the Bat Queen’s nest, I’ve felt a fog lift from my mind. My eating schedule is slightly more regular, and my sleeping schedule is getting back to normal. Of course, normal for me is an average of 4 hours a night, which is apparently not actually normal.

The palistrom sap serum has reduced my pain so it now sits at a dull constant. While the pain is alleviated, I still feel weak. If anything, I feel weaker than I did before. Standing for too long makes my legs shake, and sometimes they give way when I get up. I’ve almost dropped books and dishes, my hands shaking more than they used to. Eda keeps telling me to take my time, that I don’t have to do everything all at once. But I’ve spent nearly a month wasting away. I can’t just sit around doing nothing. Eda did so much for me; the least I can do is help around the house. 

This weekend, Luz barged into my room and yelled at me (mostly in Spanish) for a minute straight. I barely had time to process the fact that she was there, let alone what she was yelling at me. All I picked up on was that she was upset that I hadn’t told her how bad things had gotten and that if I ever did that again she’d kill me. Then she flopped onto her bed and screamed into a pillow.

“Sorry,” I said when she was done.

She peeled her face from the pillow and looked at me with tears in her eyes. “Please don’t ever do that again,” she said, her anger replaced with worry.

“I’m not planning on it.” I set aside the stitching I’d been working on when she came in. “And, to be fair, I didn’t exactly tell anyone the whole truth.”

She sat up and wiped tears away. “I know, but you could have told me. You don’t always have to take care of yourself, you know?”

“You’re not exactly king or queen of letting people help you, Luz,” I said. “How many times have you nearly gotten yourself killed trying to make up for your mistakes?”

“That doesn’t make it okay.” She curled up, hugging her knees to her chest. “We’re both pretty bad at opening up, huh?”

“Yeah,” I said.

“Yeah,” she said.

We sat in silence for a few moments, a rare feat for us. I fidgeted with the hem of my t-shirt and wished I was wearing something that covered more skin. Luz traced circles—glyphs, I think—on the floor with her foot.

“You still look pretty fucking sick,” she said, her voice flat.

“Do you mean that literally or colloquially?”

“Literally,” she answered. “And who the heck says ‘colloquially?’”

“What’s wrong with saying colloquially?” 

“You sound like a nerd.”

I scoffed. “That’s rich coming from you, nerd."

That made her smile, and it hit me that I hadn’t seen her smile in weeks. I hadn’t realized how much I missed her.

“Eda wouldn’t tell me exactly what happened with BQ,” Luz said. “She said I should ask you.”

My face burned. “I don’t really want to talk about that right now.”

“That’s fine.” Luz leaned back on her hands. “Willow did tell me.”

“Oh.”

“You know, you didn’t have to lie to them about your past. Or to me.”

I looked down at my hands, at the lines of scars carved across my skin. “No,” I said. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t have to punish yourself for things Belos made you do,” Luz said.

I clenched my fists.

“Remember what you told me? He tricked people. He manipulated you. It wasn’t your fault.”

Don’t start crying about this, idiot.

“You’re not him.”

I dug my fingernails into my palms. Images of the Golden Guard boneyard flashed through my mind. I could almost smell the rotting flesh that clung to the books we found there. Even after I have had to discipline him more harshly, he still comes back to me.

“Hunter?”

Remember—this lesson stays between you and I. Do you understand?

“Hunter, can you hear me?”

Use your words, Hunter. You are not a child.

Luz put her hand on my knee. The touch pulled me out of my head. I had been tapping my foot without realizing. She sat on the floor in front of me, eyes wide. I remembered where I was—my room. My room in the Owl House. The room that I share with Luz. Luz. who was trying to comfort me. I sank onto the floor and dropped my head on her shoulder.

“‘Mm sorry,” I mumbled. I think I was crying.

Luz, Luz the human, Luz my sister, pulled me into a hug. She rubbed my back the way Steve had after I got poisoned. “It’s okay,” she said. 

When we pulled away from each other, I saw blood smeared on the palm of my right hand and under my fingernails. I’d broken the skin of my hand without realizing. “Fuck.”

Luz had seen it too. “Hunter, what—?”

I got up and left the room, holding my left hand over my right. I went into the bathroom and locked the door behind me. I ran cold water over my hands, washing rust down the drain. Luz pounded on the door.

“Hunter, for once,” she said. “Just let me in! Please.”

Nephew, you know what will happen if they see you like this. You wouldn’t want your failures to bring your title into question, would you?

“I’m fine!” I yelled through the door.

“Do not lie to me, Hunter Noceda!”

I froze. Hunter Noceda. Noceda. I shut the water off and opened the door. “Luz?”

She grabbed my hand and turned it over to look at the palm. I wanted to snatch it back. It was bad enough for her to see the current lesion; her examining the whole of my scarred and calloused hands sent shame through my whole body. I don’t even know why. She’s seen my hands before.

“Accident or on purpose?” she asked.

Now, what do you say if someone asks about that gash?

“Accident.”

She met my eyes like she was trying to tell if I was lying.

“It was an accident,” I said again, unsure if I was lying.

“Okay. I believe you.” She looked back down at my hands. “Do y’all have band-aids?”

We went back to our room and I grabbed the band-aid box from the ledge above my bed. “I can just do it myself,” I said. “You don’t—”

“Oh, shut up.” She took the box and pulled out a bright green band-aid. “I know you can do it yourself, nerd. That doesn’t mean you should.”

I bit back another of my default protests. There’s no point arguing with Luz Noceda. Noceda. She'd just randomly attached her name to mine. It sounded almost natural. I wanted to ask her about it but something stopped me.

I held out my hand and she gently placed the band-aid over the scratch. She held my hand in both of hers for a moment and seemed to calm down. 

“We want to help you,” she said softly. “You may not believe me, but it’s true.”

“We?”

“Eda, me, our friends. You’re not helping any of us by suffering alone.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” she said. “I understand how it feels, you know? Trying so hard to protect other people from me and my mistakes or pain. But it only hurt them more.” She closed my fingers over the band-aid. “I didn’t realize that until…until Flapjack.”

I felt my face contort in confusion. “What? What do you mean?”

“I know it wasn’t our fault that–that he died, but I still wonder, if I hadn’t convinced you to go into the woods without the others, if it would’ve gone differently.” She let go my hand and held hers in fists in her lap. “Or if I’d just believed you about seeing Belos the first time.”

I wanted to cry all over again. “Luz…”

“I’m sorry.” She wiped her own tears. “I just, you know, ever since Willow told me what happened with BQ, I keep thinking about it. About him.”

Join the club, I thought.

“I really loved that little rascal,” she said.

“He loved you back,” I said, my voice cracking. “I wouldn’t have met him if it wasn’t for you, you know.”  I try not think about what would’ve happened if Luz hadn’t stowed away in that hutch.

“Oh, yeah,” she said, sniffling. “And I wouldn’t have met you if it wasn’t for him.” 

Flapjack, I can’t remember the last words I said to you. I only remember you being afraid of me. You’d never been afraid of me before. I don’t know when he took over, when my words weren’t mine anymore. In those last moments, when I felt your presence in my mind, I didn’t realize what you were doing until it was too late. You were gone.

I looked at Luz, the sister I found because of you. I put my hand over my heart, still beating because of you. “I wish I’d thanked him.”

That night, Luz and I pushed our slightly uneven mattresses together (she called it a “mega bed” which is a generous title for two lumpy twin beds) and watched movies with King. When she came in yelling at me earlier, I was worried things would stay tense for the rest of the day. But it was easy. She didn’t ask about the covered mirror when we were brushing our teeth together. She didn’t treat me like I was fragile the way everyone else had been. She told me about school and how she and Vee have gotten closer and how bad Camila is at MarioKart. 

Halfway through the third Azura movie, she fell asleep on my shoulder. King was curled up on the other side of her. I shut the laptop and shifted so we wouldn’t sleep sitting up against the wall.

“Nuh-uh, I’m still awake,” Luz mumbled. “Can finish this one.”

I chuckled. “I’m sure,” I said.

“Just need to get comfy,” she said, shuffling down to put her head on the pillow.

“That is not going to help you stay awake.” 

“Sure it…is…” She started softly snoring. King mumbled something in his sleep. I stared at the ceiling until, eventually, I fell asleep too.

The nightmares were back.

It started as a distorted memory of what Luz had told me that afternoon. I heard her words echoing in a dark room— He tricked you. He manipulated you. It wasn’t your fault.  

A door opens behind me, washing the floor in stark brightness. It’s my room in the castle. I see myself from the outside, frantically searching for something. It’s the younger version of me, the one I still sometimes expect to find in the mirror. I am frantically opening drawers and turning over piles of clothes.

“Shit shit shit!” I say. How could I have lost something so important? Today of all days? “C’mon, Hunter, where the hell did you put it?”

There is a knock on the bedroom door. I freeze. I’m too late.

“Sir, I’m here to escort you to the ceremony.” It’s some random coven scout. I don’t recognize the voice. It is the first time I have been called sir.

“I-I’ll be right there!” My changing voice cracks as I open the same drawers for the third time. “And I don’t need an escort!”

“The Emperor sent me, sir,” the scout says. “And he told me to remind of your most recent lesson?”

There is no way Uncle would tell a random scout what a ‘lesson’ meant to him. But 13-year-old me knows. There are still stitches in my arm from Uncle’s last lesson on timeliness. He told the coven scout to say that to scare me into arriving on time. If I want to arrive at the ceremony’s designated time, I need to leave now and abandon my search for the most important piece of my new set of armor. Either way, Uncle will be displeased.

I get off the floor and brush the dust from the knees of my trousers. I put on my cloak and hood and open the bedroom door. I do not acknowledge the scout following me. They are my subordinate; I need to act like the superior officer I am now.

I march to the private area adjoining the throne room, from which I will make my entrance. Uncle is waiting inside. Wearing his own full mask and robes, he is facing the door we will walk through for the knighting ceremony.

I drop and kneel at his side. “I’m here, Emperor Belos.”

“You’re late, Hunter.” He doesn’t turn from the doors. 

My breath falters. “S-sorry. I was looking for—” 

“For this?”

Without looking at me, he offers his hand out, holding the Golden Guard’s mask. “You left it in my study last evening,” he says. “I would appreciate it if you would refrain from such carelessness in the future.”

Silently cursing myself, I take the mask. I had taken the armor to my uncle’s study so he could show me how to put all the pieces together, but I had been sure to take every piece with me when I left. I could’ve sworn I’d placed the mask on top of the folded white cape. “My apologies, sir, it won’t—”

“We will discuss this later, nephew.” He turns his head ever so slightly, and I see glowing blue eyes beneath the mask. “Your shoulder guard is on the wrong side. I assume you can fix that yourself.”

He opens the doors, but instead of the throne room, it is an entrance to the catacombs beneath the castle. I am following him, brand new staff in hand. My mask gives me tunnel vision. My uncle is breathing raggedly. I am reaching into my pocket for the small palisman I keep on hand for moments like this. I am too late. His curse overpowers him and he lashes out, wildly slashing and punching anything around him.

“Uncle, please!” I shout, dodging the haphazard strikes. “Can you hear me?” That’s not how this memory goes.

His head and neck twist all the way around to scream in my face. I flinch and hold out the palisman. He takes and crushes it, green blood spilling from his claws to the floor. Some of it drips onto my face. It burns.

The green sludge over his body doesn’t recede. It stretches and bubbles, as if there is something trying to tear out from under his flesh. He grabs me and lifts me from the floor.

“Insolent child,” he growls. “You will pay for your disobedience.”

I wait in terror for blood or death. Instead of either, I feel cold slime crawling up the back of my neck.

I woke up screaming. I clawed at my neck, could still feel his breath on my face. Luz shot up from her pillow and grabbed my wrists. I shoved her off of me.

“Don’t touch me!” I yelled, terror and anger raising my voice.

She scrambled backwards, eyes wide and scared.

I backed up into the corner, realizing what I’d done. “Oh no. No no no no no.” I pulled my knees up to my chin.”I-I didn’t mean to—I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry—” I couldn’t stop repeating it.

Luz took deep breaths and then came a little closer to me. “It’s okay. You didn’t hurt me,” she said. “It’s okay.”

I fought to remember the present. Owl House. Bedroom. Luz. It was still dark outside. I grabbed the back of my neck. Skin. Hairline. Scar tissue. My breaths were shaking, but I was breathing.

“It’s okay,” Luz said again.

“Okay.” I wiped moisture from my face. Tears, sweat, whatever. “I’m sorry.”

“You know…” She pulled the covers over her legs. “I get those too.”

“Get what? Nightmares?”

“No—well, yes, I get nightmares,” she said. “But I meant night terrors.”

“Night…terrors?”

“Yeah, that’s what it’s called when you scream in your sleep.” Luz laced her fingers together and stretched out her arms, a nervous tell of hers. “I got them a lot when my dad was sick. They’ve sort of come back since last year.” She nudged me with her elbow. “Guess I know how Vee and Mom feel now.”

“I didn’t realize there was a name for it.” I tugged at the collar of my shirt. “It happened a lot when I was little.”

“Makes sense,” she said.

“Did it—Did I scare you?”

“I mean, I was kinda scared for you.” She averted her gaze and paused before asking, “Why were you scratching your neck like that?”

My face burned. I looked at my shaking hands.

“You don’t have to tell me,” she said.

For once, I felt like I could.

“I had a dream,” I said. “About…well, you know.”

“Yeah, that’s kinda what I figured.”

“Thank you, by the way.” I picked at my thumbnail. “For stopping me.” I probably would’ve scratched off an entire layer of skin off my neck if she hadn’t. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too.”

Neither of us felt like going back to sleep. We finished Azura 3 and went downstairs as the sun started rising. We made breakfast and coffee and I admitted that I actually hate drinking my coffee black. I’m used to it from my years as a coven scout. Adding milk or sugar feels overindulgent. Luz told me about a kind of coffee drink called a “latte” that is mostly milk and comes in tons of flavors. 

“If you come back to the human realm,” she said. “I could make you try all my favorites. And you could experience the joy of a freshly baked chocolate croissant.”

“Is that an invitation?”

“Duh.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m not trying to be subtle.”

“Like you could if you tried.”

She flipped me off. “If you weren’t so frail, I’d punch you.”

“I am not ‘frail.’” I glared at her teasing. “I’m in peak physical condition.”

She snorted. “This is peak physical condition? Kinda pathetic, to be honest.” she said. “Seriously though. Vee and I are on summer break, and it’s not like you have school to worry about. It’s kind of perfect timing.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Perfect timing to be suspended from school?”

“Well, yeah. Wild how you managed to get a suspension before me, Mr. Rules and Authority.”

“Pfft, Amity told me you’ve been fucking expelled before.”

“That doesn’t count!” Luz said. “That was only because her stupid mom had beef with teenagers. And that’s all beside the point.”

“The point being?”

“You coming back to the human realm with me.” 

“Right.”

“So? What do you say?”

I had to admit, the prospect of getting away from all this shit that’s been happening in the demon realm was pretty appealing. To be even more honest, I’d been thinking about going back to the Noceda’s ever since she mentioned it a couple of weeks ago (which felt like several month ago). I put it at the back of my mind considering that whole everything about my life situation, but now…

“Sure,” I said.

“Wait, seriously?”

I nodded.

“Oh my god!” Luz’s face brightened. “Oh my god oh my god oh my god!!” She threw her arms around me, seemingly forgetting the whole “frail” thing, and gushed about how excited she was and how she was going to make me drink lattes and play video games.

It’s somewhat overwhelming to think about go back to the human realm. So, I’m trying not to think about it. I started packing and on the day after tomorrow, I’ll be leaving with my friends from Hexside. They’re staying over the weekend. I have yet to tell them that I’ll be staying longer than that. I know they’ll be happy for me, I just don’t want to say goodbye—even if they will be visiting there and I’ll come and visit here. 

A couple of days ago, Luz sent me an early morning Penstagram message confirming that her mom agreed to let me stay (mami was like “it’s about dang time!” and immediately went to the basement to get it ready 4 u lol) I knew I couldn’t keep putting off telling Eda and King. I paced around the living room for half an hour waiting for them to come down. My nerves just built up, so I grit my teeth, went upstairs to Eda’s room, and knocked on the door.

“S’that you, blondie?” Eda called sleepily. “What’s wrong?”

It occurred to me then that I had never been in her room before. I hadn’t gone to the third story of the house. I didn’t even know what it looked like, except for the alleged bird nest which, based on the smell of straw, was actually real. “Yeah, it’s me,” I said. “Nothing is wrong.”

King came to the door. “Are you sure nothing is wrong?”

“Seriously. I just…I need to tell you guys something.”

Eda sat up in the nest that very much exists. “Does this have anything to do with Luz giving you a duffel bag covered in weird human triangles?”

The duffel bag print is actually space ships. “Well, yeah.” I stood awkwardly, looking down at the two of them until Eda told me to take a seat.

“The hovering is kinda freaking me out,” she said. “Relax.”

I sat cross-legged on the floor and wrung my hands, averting my gaze from the two of them. Based on the duffel bag comment, she probably already knew I’d be going to the human realm.

“I’m want to stay with the Nocedas,” I said. “For a while. I know you’ve been worried about me, and I’ve been sick and stuff, and I know I still have to do the palistrom treatments, and I’m really, really grateful—”

“Hunter,” Eda said, moving up to the edge of the nest. “It’s okay.”

“I-it is?”

“If there’s anyone I trust to take care of you, it’s Camila Noceda. If you think staying with Luz and Camila will be good for you, I’m not about to stop you.” She reached out and asked, “Is it okay if I touch you?”

I nodded.

She put her hand gently on my right shoulder. “I only have one condition.”

“What is it?” I owe Eda so much. I would do anything to repay everything she’s done for me in the last few months. She hasn’t just let me stay in her house. In a way, even though she’s so different from Camila, she’s started to feel like another mom to me.

“You need to be honest with Camila.”

I must have looked visibly confused, so Eda elaborated.

“I know you’re a tough kid, and that you think you should deal with your problems on your own. But like it or not, there are people who care about you and who definitely do not want to see you hurt yourself.”

“Did Luz tell you to say that?”

“Kid, Luz doesn’t know the half of it. You and her, you’ve got a lot in common, you know? And that’s mostly a good thing. But this whole self-sacrificing isolation thing? Y’all have got to cut that shit out.” She sat back and pointed at me. “So, don’t wait until you’re nearly dead to ask for help. No witch—or grimwalker—is an island.”

“Well, yeah, I’m pretty sure only titans can become islands.”

Eda laughed, snorting. “Good one, kid.”

I don’t know what she thought the joke was.

“You’ll come visit me and King, right?”

“Of course. If you want me to.”

She rolled her eyes. “Uh, duh. I didn’t save your life just so I could never see you again. I actually like having your sorry ass around, sad boy.”

Despite myself, I smiled at the old nickname. “I’ll come back,” I said. “Promise.”

When I stood up to go down and start packing, King sprung up and hugged my legs. I picked him up and gave him a real hug.

“Pinkie swear you’ll come visit?”

“Pinkie swear.” I held my finger up. As he hooked his around it, I got an idea. “And I’ll give you proof.”

He came down to my room with me and I picked my Sprig plush up from my bed. “Take care of him while I’m gone?”

His eyes got wide as he took the plush. “For real?”

“For real. I wouldn’t mess with you. Or him.”

King hugged Sprig and promised to keep him safe for me. He sat in the room with me while I packed. Later, Eda asked if I wanted to have a going away party like Luz did, an idea that made me feel like puking (although, most things make me feel like puking these days). Eda said she would’ve been surprised if I’d said yes, but I did agree to spend the evening with just her and King.

When I met King and Eda, this was the last thing I would’ve expected. I was afraid of them, and of Luz. They were everything Belos told me was wrong with the world. Dangerous, rebellious, wild. Enemies of the state. But even when we were on opposite sides, they were never cruel to me. Even when I deserved it. When Luz told me I didn’t have to go back to the castle, that I could stay with her at the Owl House, I didn’t believe her. I ran from Eda thinking that whatever I’d find in the woods would be more merciful, especially considered what the Emperor had done to her.

Maybe Luz being right isn’t such a bad thing.

Before I went back upstairs, Eda asked if I wanted a hug. I don’t think I realized how badly I wanted a hug from her until that moment. “Yes, please,” I said. She opened her arms and I practically fell into them. 

“Thanks for sticking around, kiddo,” she said. “I’m proud of you.”

I buried my face in her shoulder and tried not to cry. “Thank you,” I said. “For everything.”

Back in my room, I took the leather pouch with the palistrom seed from under my mattress. I still don’t know where to plant it, but I want to keep it with me until I do. 

I think staying in the human realm will actually be good for me. I know it won’t be the same this time, and I know that’s objectively a good thing. I think I’m excited. And maybe anxious. But I don’t need to be anxious. It’s fine. It’ll be good. 

Look at me. Making a good choice for once. Aren’t you proud?

Hunter

Chapter Text

Dear Flapjack,

The first thing I noticed when we walked into the Noceda house was the smell. It hasn’t changed since the first day we spent here—fresh laundry and coffee.

Camila welcomed us with hugs, which I didn’t mind at first. She asked me if I was feeling better and if I had gotten taller. I managed brief answers (‘yes’ and ‘I’m not sure but maybe”) before the amount of people made it too overwhelming to fully engage in conversation. Amity and Luz were all over each other like they didn’t just see each other a few days ago. Stringbean and the other palismen seemed really happy to see each other. I wonder if they feel like someone is missing. 

Vee and Luz gave us all friendship bracelets with all of our initials on them to commemorate the first post-portal sleepover with all of us here. We had homemade pizzas, some with special ingredients Luz got when she was in the demon realm last week. To be honest, I preferred the human realm ingredients. 

The afternoon and evening went by in a blur. Putting our bags in the basement or Luz and Vee’s room, having dinner, deciding to watch a movie and then pausing it to talk for an hour. I should’ve been excited to be here. Camila, Luz, and Vee did so much to welcome us. Willow, Gus, and Amity seem to have fallen back into the familiarity of this house. 

I think it’s the familiarity that scares me.

I’ve tried not to be overtly on edge. I’m already prone to flinching and general hyper-vigilance. The only place I can turn that part of my brain off is the Owl House. Even there, I never know when a loud or unexpected noise will make my heart rate spike. Here, I got tense as soon as we walked in. No matter how many times I tell myself that everything is fine and that I have nothing to worry about, I can’t stop. It feels…wrong. I don’t know why.

Meanwhile, my friends are as relaxed as ever. And Willow…Willow has been acting weird. More blushy and touchy than usual. I know what you’re thinking, and let me assure you that I am not so oblivious as to not realize why. I know why. But it’s more than usual. She sat so close to me during the movie, and I should’ve been thrilled about that. It’s what I want, isn’t it? I want to be close to her. It’s not like I haven’t thought about kissing her every time I’ve seen her in the last week. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. It seems like she might want it too, like she might want to be, you know, something other than friends.

I’ve never kissed anyone before. I know she has, thanks to that stupid game Luz had us play last year. “Never have I ever” done anything a teenager is supposed to—no kissing, no moonlight conjurings, no “celebrity crush.” Everyone else realized I was uncomfortable pretty quick, and Luz felt bad for making me play. It wasn’t her fault, of course. Sometimes, when we were all here, stuck in the human realm with no way home, I didn’t feel so different from the others.

But the truth is, I am different. I feel it now more than ever. I’m less than a witch, less than human. I can’t go to school with them. I’ve never kissed anyone or even been on a date. I didn’t know what a sleepover was until we were stuck in one for 3 months. I barely even know what**

I haven’t talked to any of them about the grimwalker stuff. Amity tried to ask me about it last week. I shouldn’t have  snapped at her; it’s just not something I want to talk about. I don’t want them to know.

I tried to avoid telling them that I’m staying in the human realm. I didn’t want to kill the mood. But it came up during dinner, when Camila told me she and Luz had spent the last couple of days turning the basement into a proper bedroom. Amity, Gus, and Willow all looked at me, confused, hurt, maybe.

“Oh yeah,” I said with a nervous laugh. “Did I forget to mention? I’m gonna be staying here for, uh, longer than this weekend.”

Willow’s eyebrows furrowed. “How much longer?”

I shrugged. “A while?”

She exchanged a look with Amity, who shook her head in answer to some silent question.

“I don’t know,” I said. “Sorry.”

Gus was the first to have a positive response. “That’s good!” he said. “Not that you’re sorry, that you’re gonna spend some extra time here. We’ll miss you back home , but it’ll probably be good for you here.”

I smiled at him. “I hope so.”

“And you can still come visit us when Luz does,” Amity said.

As anxious as I was already feeling here, the prospect of returning to the Boiling Isles was even more nerve wracking. I nervously laughed again. “Ha ha, yeah! Definitely!” 

“And you guys can come here!” Luz said. Maybe she saw how anxious Amity’s suggestion made me. “Door’s always open—ours and the portal.”

“Of course we’ll come visit,” Willow said. “I didn’t realize how much I missed this place until we got here.”

The idea of my Hexside friends coming here also filled me with dread. When Vee changed the subject to ideas of what to do tomorrow, I sighed in relief. 

Willow didn’t leave my side from after dinner until we all went to bed. She fell asleep on my shoulder halfway through the movie. Later, she grabbed my hand and squeezed it as she said goodnight. It was to the point that Gus asked me about it when we came down here.

“So, have you and Willow finally made it official?”

“Made what official?” I genuinely didn’t know what he was referring to.

“You know, your relationship.” Gus spoke like I was supposed to know what that meant. I looked at him in confusion until he clarified, “Are you guys dating now?”

Heat pricked my entire body. “Dating? What? No. What makes you ask that? Did I do something weird?”

“No, no,” he said. “You two just seemed really close tonight.”

“Does everyone else think that too?”

“I mean, probably. Willow has been talking about you a lot lately, and—actually, I’m not supposed to say that.”

“Say what?”

“The thing I was about to say that I’m not supposed to.” He turned away and mimed zipping his lips. “Don’t worry about it. Willow will tell you.”

That did not help my anxiety. I’ve been overthinking it ever since.

Earlier, when Camila walked Gus and me down here earlier, I was once again struck by the familiarity. The smell of dry wood and layers of dust, cardboard boxes full of “awesome human stuff,” the sewing machine in the corner. Gus’ couch has been moved to the opposite wall and there’s a simple, low to the floor bed where it used to be. In the middle of the bed was a stuffed wolf plush, along with a note tied around its front leg that read, Welcome home, Hunter! Luz, Vee, & Camila.  

Holding the wolf, I turned to Camila. “You really didn’t have to do all this. I could’ve just used the sleeping bag again.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, mijo,” she said. “You don’t have to sleep on the floor anymore.”

She put her hand on my back and I flinched away. “Sorry,” I said. “And thank you, for the bed. I appreciate it.”

“No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

I twisted the sleeve of my shirt. “Don’t worry about. It’s just an old habit.”

Camila gave me a familiar worried expression but didn’t say anything else about it. “Well, be sure to give your new friend a name before Luz does it for you,” she smiled. “Come up whenever you’re ready.”

I put my duffel bag at the end of the bed. Gus was already messing with some strange glittery hourglass he found. I turned all the way around, taking the room in again, feeling strangely out of place. It’s so cozy. The warm light, the softness of the rugs and blankets, the creaking floor above us. I looked at the wolf’s note again. Welcome home.  

I like my room in the Owl House. I really do. But I guess on some level it still feels like Luz’s room to me. It’s not quite right when she’s not there. In my friends’ rooms, there are posters and photos on the walls. Their rooms feel like extensions of them. Amity’s drawings and Azura figurines, the random human objects lined up on Gus’ shelves. Willow’s plants and flyer derby posters and wall of instant photos. My room is mostly scattered books and a box of old junk. Not that my old room was ever a sanctuary of personal expression. I wasn’t allowed to have much outside of study materials and standard issue clothing. I wasn’t even allowed to change my hair. 

Belos said it was more practical that way. Fewer distractions, no excess vanity. That’s why my only mirror was the one I kept in the first aid chest. When that got found during an inspection, I had to explain that I only used it when necessary; he made me promise to keep it hidden at all other times.

The basement is strange. Not only is the house full of personal photos and “knick-knacks” upstairs, there’s also dozens of boxes down here. I asked Luz about it last year.

“Why keep all this stuff if you don’t even use it?” I said. “The space could be a lot more efficient—”

“It’s not about being efficient,” Luz interrupted. “This ‘stuff’ matters to us. A lot of it is my dad’s. There’s a lot of memories down here.”

I wondered why they would hold on to things that belonged to a dead person, but I sensed that would be an inappropriate question. 

I still don’t really understand it. Although, Gus and I never would’ve discovered Cosmic Frontier if Camila hadn’t kept all of her and Manny’s merchandise. The concept of seasonal decorations, however, will never make sense to me.

Maybe Camila will let me have some of my own stuff down here. I should probably bring my books from the Owl House—they take up a lot of space and I didn’t want to take any more than necessary, especially since I’m not even living there right now. I should probably get them back.

After everything that happened on Halloween, the clothes I made when I was here felt stupid  impractical. Before she and Luz went home, I told Camila that she could just throw them away. She said she wasn’t going to do that and that she would hold on to them “just in case.” I said that wasn’t necessary. She said it didn’t have to be necessary to be worth keeping. I guess that’s what the basement is for.

I’d probably feel worse if Gus wasn’t here. It’s good to see him happy. He didn’t like to show it, but the months we spent here were hard on him. Even though he kept himself distracted, he got sad at night. Sometimes he cried in his sleep. I didn’t really mention it because I didn’t want him to feel embarrassed. I mean, I didn’t think he should have been embarrassed by that, but I know how I would feel if someone saw me doing that. Gus was a scared kid who missed his dad; of course he cried about it.

He’s sleeping peacefully now. He fell asleep while we were coming up with name ideas for the wolf plush (his top pick is “Cerebus” after one of the planets in Cosmic Frontier, which would be great if I could pronounce it right). I stared at the ceiling beams I used to count when I couldn’t sleep. I looked for pictures in the wood grain. But then I started thinking about Willow and couldn’t get my brain to shut up and I thought writing might help.

Shit. Now I’m thinking about her again. What is she supposed to tell me? What am I supposed to tell her?  

You’d be laughing at me, wouldn’t you? You’d yank my hair until I confessed my feelings for her. 

I don’t know if I have the courage to do it without you.

Hunter

Chapter Text

Hey Flapjack.

Waking up in the Nocedas’ basement was disorienting. 

The rotting flesh dreams haven’t really let up since they started. The one I had last night lingered after I woke up. Cold sweat made my clothes and the sheets stick to my skin. Half awake, I kicked off the blankets and pulled off my shirt, grabbing at the skin on my chest and face, unable to breathe until I was certain my skin was still on my bones. Then I curled in on myself, shivering.

That’s when I remembered where I was. And that there was someone else in the room. I yanked the covers back up and looked through the dim light for my shirt. It was lying on the floor a few feet away from the bed. After checking to make sure Gus was still sleeping, I slid out of bed and put my shirt back on. 

I didn’t realize I’d put it on inside out until Vee pointed it out at breakfast.

“What?” I looked down at the shirt and felt heat crawl up to my ears. “Gus, why didn’t you tell me?”

Gus shrugged. “I thought it might be a fashion choice.”

“You do have a… unique style,” Vee said as she started taking everyone’s empty plates. “I wouldn’t put it past ya.”

I wanted to immediately go in the bathroom and change my shirt, but I felt obligated to help Vee with the dishes, so I stayed while my friends teased me about the way I dress. I tried to laugh along; they were being lighthearted. It wasn’t serious. Sure, I might dress like “a skater boy who wears pyjamas to the grocery store,” whatever the fuck that means, but it’s comfortable. I don’t know what I’m supposed to wear. I always do this stuff wrong. The teasing almost made me miss having a set uniform every day. 

Willow seemed to realize I wasn’t having fun with that conversation and changed the subject. I zoned out and fixated on the dishes. Unlike Luz last night, Vee didn’t tell me not to help. She understands why I need to do this stuff, that I need to feel helpful. We washed, dried, and put away the dishes while the others finalized the day’s plans.

The hypervigilance I’ve felt inside the house was much, much worse outside. The Noceda house feels solid. I spent so much time there and in the shack. I know where all the hallways lead and what’s behind all the doors.

Gravesfield feels like a dream.

Willow sat beside me on the bus ride there. I spent the 10 minute drive scanning the other passengers and keeping an eye on all our nearest exits.

“Relax, Hunter,” Willow said. “We’re safe.”

I leaned back against the seat. “Yeah, of course. I know that.” But I couldn’t keep my eyes from darting up and down the rows. Every bump in the road or car that passed us too fast increased the tension in my muscles.

She put her hand on my knee. “Do you need to do some breathing?”

“I’m fine,” I said. “Or I will be, once we're off this bus."

I did not feel fine when we got off the bus.

Our first stop was the coffee place Luz told me about. Robin's Roast. I think we probably went there at some point last year, but I have a hard time remembering anything we did in town. We squished into a booth together; I wanted to be on the outside but ended up in between Willow and Vee. Once again, Willow sat so close to me that our knees touched. 

We all got some pastries to share, and Luz told me I’d had too much coffee at breakfast to have a latte. I told her the third cup was only half, but that did not convince her.

“Is that why you’re so jittery?” Gus asked.

“I guess so.” I was grateful to have an excuse for how shaky my hands were and how much my legs were bouncing when I sat down.

“Didn’t Camila say we were only allowed two cups each?” Amity said, raising an eyebrow.

“Like I said, it was only half, so it doesn’t count.” I crossed my arms. “Besides, I didn’t want the last of the coffee pot to go to waste, and none of you wanted it.”

“We could’ve just poured it out,” Vee said. “It’s really not a big deal.”

Great. That means I both broke a rule and did something the others saw as stupid. I took a bite of chocolate croissant and waited for the attention to fall on someone else.

On the way out of the coffee shop, Luz told me to wait up.

“Why? Is something wrong?” I felt myself take a more defensive stance.

She and Willow looked at each other. “We’ll catch up,” Luz said to her. “You should go ahead with the others.”

Willow gave a weak smile. “Okie dokie! Don’t take too long.” She winked and then jogged to catch up.

“Nothing is wrong,” Luz finally answered my question. “Well, actually, I was going to ask you if something is wrong.”

“I’m fine,” I said. I could’ve been more honest with her, but I didn’t want to bring this stuff up while our friends were still here. “We can talk later.”

“It’s okay if you’d rather stay home,” Luz kept talking. “You don’t have to come to minigolf if you’re too anxious.”

“I’d rather spend time with my friends,” I said. “Besides, I need to get used to being here. Wouldn’t want to end up stuck in the house all summer.” 

“You can take it slow. It was hard for me to adjust when I came back, and I’m from this world. I don’t want you to push yourself too hard. You have time.”

“Do you think I can’t handle this?” I snapped. “We’re just walking around. It’s not a big deal, right?”

“Hunter…”

“I’m not weak. I’m not sick anymore. I’m just anxious because I’m always anxious and I had two-and-a-half cups of coffee. I’m fine.”

Luz frowned. “Sorry. I wasn’t trying to…I just…Sorry.” She turned and started walking towards where our friends were waiting for us. That’s when I realized how angry I must have sounded. How angry I felt. I didn’t want to feel that, especially not at Luz. I decided to apologize later, once this stupid day was over.

I’m allowed to be a little anxious, but I cannot blow up at my friends like that. I got lightheaded and took deep breaths until I could be sure I wouldn’t pass out. It’s a good thing I checked myself then, because after that I saw where my friends were waiting.

They probably didn’t realize or even think about where they were standing. Or what they were standing next to. I averted my gaze from the statue to the sidewalk, catching only part of what Amity was saying.

“...I mean, the last time you two snuck off—”

Luz grabbed Amity’s shoulder and interrupted. “Hey!” she said to me. “We’re going to the park now!” She turned to the others. “Hunter’s here, let’s go guys!” She flashed a sympathetic smile at me. I tried to smile back, relieved that she wasn’t upset at me.

Luz gave us a tour of the park she played at as a kid and showed us all the places she used to find snakes. All we found was a molted skin. As it got warmer outside, the baseball cap I wore to keep my ears covered made me sweat. We went to the library next.

Human libraries are overwhelmingly still. The shelves are just shelves, and the cabinets can’t be coaxed into giving you special information. The books just sit there. As we walked in, Willow teasingly raised her eyebrows at Amity. Amity’s face turned red and she crossed her arms. Then Willow dropped back to walk beside me.

“Do you want to walk around together?” she asked.

“Isn’t that what we’re already doing?”

She giggled and nudged me with her shoulder. “I mean just us two.”

“Oh.” My face flushed. “Um, yeah. I mean, yes. Yes.”

We split off from the rest of the group. The silence of the library meant I didn’t have to say anything. I put my hands in my pockets, but then I thought she might want to hold my hand, so I took them back out and awkwardly walked with them at my sides. My palms were sweating and we hadn’t even touched. Then we did. She took my hand and led me between two shelves in another section. There were books about gardening on one shelf and home crafting books on the other.

We let go and I scanned the row of books about knitting. I thought she just brought us here because there were books we would both be interested in. But after a few minutes of quiet perusal, Willow hooked her pinkie finger around mine. My face burned up to the tips of my ears.

"Hunter?" She whispered.

"Yes, captain?" I whispered back.

She giggled softly, blushing as she smiled at me. "You mean the world to me, you know?"

"Yeah?"

"What I mean is," she continued. "I really like you. Romantically."

“Romantically.” I repeated under my breath. My heartbeat pounded in my ears. I got dizzy and felt a stabbing pain in my side. No, no, no. Not now. 

“Are you okay?” The soft, sweet expression on her face turned to worry.

“Shit.” I stepped back and let go of her pinkie. “I-I need to sit down.”

“Okay. Okay.” She hooked her arm through mine. “I saw some chairs back here.”

She led to me a sitting area with cushy brown sofas. We sat down and she silently counted me through some deep breaths. I wiped tears before they could fall down my face.

“I’m so sorry,” Willow whispered. “I shouldn’t have—”

“Don’t,” I interrupted. “Don’t do that. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I know, but…” Her voice trailed off.

“I just…wasn’t prepared. Didn’t know what to say.”

“Do you want to leave?”

I had no interest in staying in that stuffy, cramped library, so I nodded.

We came down and sat on a bench outside. Neither of us spoke as we watched cars and people pass by. My mind buzzed without being able to produce a coherent thought. There was just a single repeating phrase— I’m wrong. I’m wrong. I’m wrong. I’m wrong. What had just happened in the library barely felt real.

When the others finally came out, Willow greeted them warmly. I barely managed to look up. Apparently, it was time to head back to the house for lunch. Lunch already? I didn’t realize how much time had passed.

On the bus ride back, I sat with Vee. She didn’t ask why I was being so quiet. She’s probably the only one who didn’t know anything about the whole thing with Willow and me. Actually, I’m sure Luz told her at least of it. Whatever it is.

I stayed quiet during lunch and while the others made friendship bracelets while waiting for Camila to get home. Willow and I kept accidentally making eye contact, both of us immediately looking away each time. I didn’t want to be weird about her. I like her so much and I reacted all wrong. I don’t understand why I freaked out like that. Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong.

At least I was good at the minigolf. Once I understood the rules, it felt pretty natural. And it gave me something to focus on instead of the incident in the library. However, the scoring system does not make any sense. Why would having fewer points mean you were doing better? I asked both Luz and Camila about this, but neither of them could provide an answer.

We split off into two groups—Vee, Amity, and Luz in one group, Willow, Gus, Camila, and I in the other. The “Putt Hutt” is a strange place. The neon colored rectangles with impediments made a little bit of sense, even if they were somewhat ugly. The point is to make getting the ball in the hole a challenge, a test more of the intellect rather than athletics. As I was still feeling somewhat faint, I was grateful that it wasn’t as physically involved as I expected, and that I had something to lean on while standing for so long. That other activity Luz suggested—laser tag, I think?—sounded much more intense. I didn’t understand the vast majority of her explanation, but I did promise I would try it eventually. 

Willow seemed a little more relaxed than she had at the house. She, Gus, and Camila were laughing and making jokes I couldn’t focus on enough to get. But I did walk out with the best score of both groups, beating out Vee by -1 point. It took some convincing for me to fully believe the lower score was better. That is not how games are supposed to work.

On the car ride home, I watched the green trees blur through the window. I sat in the front seat and half-listened to my friends discuss the epic highs and lows of minigolfing. I still flinched at some passing cars, but I was more relaxed than I’d been all day. Maybe it was just exhaustion making me numb. I was ready to watch a movie and forget everything else.

As we were all walking back inside, Willow grabbed my hand, holding me back. The others went inside and we sat down on the front stairs. All the anxiety came rushing back, my foot tapping against the steps.

“Hey,” Willow said. “I’m sorry about earlier.”

My mouth went dry. I didn’t know if I could speak so I just nodded.

“I shouldn’t have sprung that on you out of nowhere like that.”

It wasn’t really out of nowhere though, was it? Everyone else could see it.

“I wasn’t really planning on it, but the library was so quiet, and we were alone…” She fidgeted with a loose string on her shorts. Tiny plants sprouted from the wooden steps. “I should’ve realized you were already anxious and waited until you were feeling better.”

The last thing I wanted was for her to feel guilty. She deserved to hear the truth. I folded my hands together. “Willow,” I said. “I-I like you too. And I wanted to tell you back there. At the library. I wanted to. But I panicked.” I chuckled and wiped an embarrassed tear from my eye. Stupid. “Classic Hunter, right?”

She smiled softly at me. “You’re not panicking now.”

“I’m still pretty scared.”

“That’s okay. I’m kinda scared too.”

“You are?”

“Of course,” she said. “Everyone gets nervous about their crushes.”

Crush. That is what it felt like.

Willow offered her hand. I held it in mine. For a moment, it felt right.

But I looked down and saw the skin of my hand twist into rot and slime. 

I dropped her hand and held mine to my chest. Not real. That's not real. Images flashed in my mind of grimwalker flesh and exposed bone, of Willow touching me, kissing me, then recoiling in disgust when she feels the melting rot of my body.

In real life, she reached out and brushed her thumb against my cheek, a soft gesture meant to be comforting. A soft gesture meant to be comforting.

You know I only do this because I love you. His voice echoed in my head. 

My ears buzzed. “Not now. Not now,” I muttered under my breath.

“Hunter, what’s wrong?”

No one else will love you how I do.

I covered my ears with my hands as if that would make it stop. 

“Stop. Stop it!” I heard myself start to yell. “Shut up!”

Why would you let yourself be defiled?

“Shut UP!” I hit my head with the palm of my hand.

Look at how disgusting you are.

“Shut up shut up shut up…” I muttered over and over. I kept hitting my head. I was vaguely aware that Willow was still beside me. I think I heard her call for help.

Something is wrong with Hunter!  I couldn’t tell if it was her speaking or him.

I gripped fistfuls of my hair. It’s gotten so long again. I wanted to tear it all off. Stop it stop it stop it

Luz and Camila came outside. They asked Willow what happened.

“I don’t know. H-he got scared, or upset, and he started–started hitting himself and—”

I held my head between my knees, fingertips pressed into the back of my neck, foot rapidly tapping against the step.

Do you think this any way for the Golden Guard to behave? 

“Hunter, what’s the matter?” Camila asked.

I couldn’t move or speak. 

Answer me, Hunter!  

I waited for the strike, held myself in place for what I was sure was coming.

“Luz, go get some ice.”

I kept waiting.

Make this easier for both us and keep still, Hunter.

I felt Camila sit down where Willow had been.

“It’s okay, mijo. You’re safe,” she said. “You’re safe.”

I shook my head. It wasn’t okay. I didn’t feel safe.

Luz came back with a cup full of ice cubes. “Take this,” she said. “Just hold it. It’ll help.”

I did what I was told and held out my hand without looking up. Luz put a piece of ice in my hand. I felt the cold in my palm burn against the heat of my skin. I closed my fist and felt the ice melt between my fingers. Luz handed me another one.

“Try holding it against your face,” she said. “That usually helps me.”

Oh. It's supposed to help. They're helping me.

I went through five ice cubes, holding them in my hands, against my face or neck or wrist. My thoughts and heartbeat slowed down. Luz, Willow, and Camila sat with me until I could breathe again.

“Sorry,” I whispered. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Camila said. Her tone was so soft. I felt another wave of shame for ever thinking she would hit me. “Are you ready to come inside?”

How long had we been out on the steps? I thought about my bed and wolf plush in the basement. Comfort. I nodded. Luz helped me up. Dizziness rushed to my head; I grabbed the railing and took a few more breaths. The panic is bad enough; am I going to feel this physically weak every time it happens?

Willow glanced back at me as she walked through the door. I have no idea where we’re going to go from here. I don’t know how to be in a relationship. I barely know how to be a friend. I barely know how to be a person. And living in two different realms? Even if we both visit each other, the thought is so daunting. Shit. I’m going to have to talk to her before she goes home tomorrow.

Luz walked down to the basement with me. We sat on the edge of my bed and she picked up the wolf plush. “Have you given this little angel a name yet?”

“Not yet,” I said. I ran my hand over the soft artificial fur. Then I thought about the cubes of ice freezing out my anxiety, and I thought about you, when you told me your name after we got the portal key. “Maybe I’ll call him Snow.”

“That’s perfect,” Luz said. She held its arms and spoke in a silly voice, “‘Hi Hunter! I’m so glad you finally gave me a name! Snow, Snow, Snow, Snow.’”

I laughed harder than I had in a long time. It wasn’t even that funny. It was more from relief, I think. Most of the anxiety had worn off, but I wasn’t feeling entirely numb the way I usually do after that happens. I took Snow the wolf from Luz and fidgeted with his ear. “Thank you, Luz.”

“Any time, bro.” She nudged me with her shoulder. “That’s what family is for.”

After she went upstairs to watch movies with the others, I was about to change into my pyjamas. But then I realized I definitely needed to shower. I did not want to, especially since that meant going upstairs again. But I got my clothes and soap and made my way to the guest bathroom. I’m just glad I didn’t have to go through the living room to get there.

I stood facing away from the mirror and tied my hair back. Thanks to the general pain I’m always in now and the left-over anxiety from the day, it took longer than normal to get my clothes off. I managed to avoid taking any more than a glance at the mirror. I’m not ready.

I showered as fast as I could, eyes closed half the time. I had to lean against the tile wall a couple of times and wait for the light-headedness to subside. Once I was done, I put on my most comfortable pyjamas, brushed my teeth, and went back downstairs. 

When Gus came down a while later, he asked if I was feeling okay.

“Yeah, I am now,” I said. “Thanks.”

He sat on his couch and pulled his knees up to his chest. “If you ever want to talk about it, you know I’m here.”

I did know. But tonight, I didn’t feel like talking about it. Knowing that I could made it easier to talk about other stuff with him. We got the Cosmic Frontier board game from the closet—half the pieces are missing, but Gus filled in the gaps with some illusion magic. Once he got too sleepy to maintain the illusions, I decided it was time for both of us to go to bed—which, of course, meant he went to sleep and I stayed up writing.

I hated most of today. But my friends helped me. And I’ll figure out what to say to Willow. Maybe. Hopefully. I don't know. I don't know.

Hunter

Chapter Text

Flapjack,

Can’t sleep. It’s 4:00 in the morning. 

I think the box is broken.

You know.

The memory box. 

The glass box inside my head. 

The metaphorical glass box I keep memories in.

I think it’s broken.

Maybe it got too full. 

Maybe there’s only so many times I can shove memories and nightmares back to the untouchable corners of my mind.

It feels like someone came in and shattered it. Like it’s been picked up and thrown against the ground, freeing the ghosts and scattering glass across the floor. If I take a single step, the tiny shards will cut my feet to shreds. If I stay still, the ghosts find me. Haunt me.

He’s not really a ghost.

At least, I don’t think so.

Unless memories are ghosts. It feels that way sometimes.

Like he’s haunting me.

One step, there’s glass in my skin.

Stay still, his words are in my ears. 

I can see him. 

I can feel him.

It’s not real he can’t hurt me he can’t hurt me…

After last night, I tried to shove that memory back in the box. Maybe that’s what broke it. That conversation. Over and over in my mind. He sits at his desk, a few feet away from my spot on the armchair. I’m supposed to be reading some history book about the Titan and the coven system. I can’t focus on the words. I’m preoccupied thinking about something I wasn’t supposed to be thinking about.

A boy. I was thinking about a boy I met on a mission. Just a coven scout trainee, probably a couple of years older than me. Probably the age I am now. But I was the Golden Guard. His superior. It was his first real mission.

Astin. That was his name. He told it to me with his mask off. He asked me for my name.

“If you must, you can refer to me as Golden Guard or sir.” That’s one of the lines I practiced in my room. If a question came up often enough, I wrote it down, formulated the correct answer, and rehearsed how I would say it. 

It was a boring mission. A stakeout. Astin was chatty the whole time. When the higher ranked scout went out to get coffee and doughnuts, Astin turned his chattiness on me.

“You ever take that mask off?”

“No.”

“How come?”

“...”

“Do you have a name?”

“...Yes.”

“What is it?”

I began to wonder if being assigned a mission with this guy was in itself a punishment.

“We’re supposed to be watching out for wild witches,” I said. “Stop talking to me.”

He stopped. For about 30 seconds.

“So, do you, like, have any friends? Girlfriend? Boyfriend?”

I rolled my eyes. “I have no need for friends of any gender, scout.”

“I heard the last Golden Guard had to ‘retire’ after getting caught snogging a wild witch. Is that true? Heh, it’d probably pretty hard to snog someone with that mask on, yeah?”

I had no idea what “snogging” meant, but the word made me feel weird. Slightly nauseous. I didn’t have a script for this interaction, so I fell back on a reliable method of subject changing—threats. “If you do not shut your mouth and stop slandering the Golden Guard, past or present, I will inform your superior. Unless you want me to inform my superior.”

“Isn’t the Emperor like, your only superior?”

I glared at Astin. All he saw was a blank gold mask. He was quiet until the other scout came back, but then the other scout fell asleep. I was in the middle of writing up both of my subordinates when Astin restarted his interrogation, presumably having forgotten my very real threat.

“I bet it gets lonely, the whole Golden Guard thing. Not having any peers or friends or pets or anything.”

Maybe I was too tired to keep up the act. As lonely as “the whole Golden Guard” thing was, it was equally exhausting. If this mission wasn’t a punishment, it was certainly putting me to the test.

I looked at Astin. He had two different colored eyes. One green, one amber. Dark brown hair and skin. He had dimples. A crooked nose that had probably been broken at some point. He was taller and broader than me. And he was smiling at me.

He was cute.

My face flushed under my mask. I looked away at literally anything else.

“Big fan of the Emperor, obviously,” he continued. “But he’s not the friendliest guy, is he?”

“Not particularly, no.” I should’ve been shutting down the conversation, writing up Astin for slandering the throne, or, at the very least, ignoring him. But I wanted to keep talking to him. I wanted him to keep talking to me.

“You want a doughnut? I can look away so you can take your mask off for a second.” He held out a doughnut with dragonberry glaze. “I swear I won’t look.”

It had been over a year since my face had been seen by anyone besides my uncle. And if my uncle found out I had exposed myself for such a gluttonous pastry, I would probably get another reason to hide my face.

But Titan damn me, I really wanted that doughnut.

I took the pastry. Astin grinned, showing a pair of gold fangs. We turned away from each other. I double checked that the other scout was fully asleep. Then I pushed my mask up to my head and took a bite. I don’t think I’ve had a sweeter treat since. I didn’t give myself time to savor it, except for the sugar left between my teeth.

“All right,” I said, still chewing as I turned to face forward again. And I left my mask up.

Astin turned and then startled at the sight of my face—presumably because he wasn’t expected to see it and not because it was especially startling. He was on my left, so he probably didn’t see the one facial scar I had. After his initial surprise, he smiled. I smiled too. I blushed. Maybe he did too. Then I put the mask back down.

“Tell no one,” I said quietly. “Please.”

He pantomimed zipping his lips and throwing away the key. 

He was actually pretty quiet after that. I don’t think I stopped blushing until dawn. While I piloted the airship back to the castle, Astin leaned against the side and kept chatting with me. I flew a little slower than I needed to.

“You know,” he said a few minutes before we landed. “You’re a lot cooler than the other scouts made you sound.”

I didn’t doubt that other scouts hated me. Whether it was due to jealousy or the fact that I was an asshole when I was wearing that mask was up for debate. I chuckled. “Thanks, I think.”

“Maybe we’ll be on the same mission again sometime, eh?”

I rarely worked with the same scout twice. I wasn’t supposed to make friends. I definitely wasn’t supposed to feel all warm and smiley after a mission. Still, I said, “Maybe.”

At the time, I didn’t know what a crush was. I didn’t know why I couldn’t stop thinking about Astin and his dimples and fangs and eyes. I didn’t know why I took the mirror out of my first-aid kit, wondering how he saw me, what he thought about the way I looked.

I didn’t notice how much I’d been smiling until I was in my uncle’s study, unable to focus on history or covens.

He noticed.

“Hunter,” he mused. “You seem to be in an especially good mood this evening.”

That’s when the warmth I’d been feeling melted into shame. My skin went cold. “O-Oh, well, this is just a really…interesting part of history? That I’m reading about? I-In this book?” 

He raised a questioning eyebrow at me. “Is that so?”

I nodded vigorously. “Yes,” I said before he could tell me to use my words.

“Hmm,” he hummed. But he didn’t press the issue. After a few minutes of being unable to focus on the text in front of me, I tried to figure out how to ask the question I wanted to ask without being horribly disrespectful or sacrilegious.

“Uncle,” I said. “Is there something sinful about friendships or–or romance? Does it make the Titan unhappy?”

He paused whatever he was working on, closing the book and giving me his full attention. His face was stoic, a warning sign. He wasn’t furious. He was still breathing steadily and his eyes weren’t glowing. I could still fix this and leave the room with a slap instead of a cut.

“Hunter, child,” he said. “Whatever could’ve brought this question to your mind?”

I tried to keep my own breath steady. “I-I hear scouts talking sometimes. About partners, and marriage.” And snogging, whatever that was. “I want to make sure I’m living as you—as the Titan desires, and I would only want to hear it from you, Uncle Belos.”

Silent, he got up from his desk and stood in front of where I sat in the armchair. He put his finger under my chin and tilted my head to look up at him. “These relationships you hear about, they are the basal acts of lesser witches. Romance, lustful urges, fornication…Witches like you and me have no need for such degeneracy. I have kept myself separate from such savage relations, as should you.” He held his hand against my face. “All you truly need is family, and your family is right here. Do you understand?”

“Yes, but—”

His grip tightened, fingertips digging into the thin skin of my face. “But what, child? Have I not given you enough? Your home, your magic, your life? Do you not trust me?” His expression softened from anger to sadness and disappointment. “Do you not love me, Hunter?”

“O-of course I do!” I panicked and pivoted to reassuring him. The disappointment in his eyes was worse than his anger. “More than anything.”

He smiled in a way that would’ve been imperceptible to anyone else. Not that anyone else got to see his face.

“The Titan’s plans for you are far greater than some trivial, fleeting romance. Witches out there, they may try to seduce you, corrupt you. They cannot offer real love.” He stroked my cheekbone with his thumb. “They will never love you how I do.”

My heart was still pounding, but the softness of this touch was always comforting to me.

“As such,” he continued. His touch was still soft, but his eyes were narrow and cold. “I will not tolerate any such relations between you and any other witch. Do not let yourself be perverted and defiled by another. Do you understand?”

I nodded, struggling to verbally respond. I got that nauseous feeling I would get when overhearing coven scout conversations I wasn’t supposed to. 

“Use your words, Hunter.” He pressed his fingers into the back of my neck.

“I understand,” I said weakly.

“Take off your gloves for me, nephew. It is vital that you remember this lesson.”

The one time I hesitated when he told me take my gloves off, he opted for a more severe punishment. The kind that involved getting out of uniform to avoid ruining it with cursed slime and blood. Delayed obedience is disobedience. I should’ve known better. This time, I didn’t hesitate.

He took a small carving knife from his desk drawer, then came back and held my right hand. “You will not entertain any desire for romance. You will not think of such acts whatsoever.”

It stung. It bled. It was routine.

I put my gloves on, numb and looking forward to my first-aid chest.

“I know it hurts, Hunter,” my uncle said to me, once again placing his hand against my cheek.. “But I do this because I love you.”

I closed my eyes and leaned into his gentle touch. 

“I know,” I said. “I love you too.”

After that, whenever I had a thought of romance or attraction, I would press my fingers into the most recent cuts on my hands. If there weren’t any cuts recent enough to be effective, I made one myself.

I never saw Astin again. For all I know, he might’ve been killed for being in my proximity the week I asked that question. I’ve been too scared to look into it. I was only assigned solo missions from then on.

I didn’t feel the way I felt on that mission until, well, you know. Willow. After meeting her, I tried to stop thinking about her. I told myself it was just the rush of playing flyer derby, of interacting with witches my age, who saw me as a person and not a title. I managed to keep it down for a while. I didn’t let myself realize it until a few days before Halloween. I guess I’d gone long enough without cutting my hands to be able to let myself feel it. In hindsight, the feeling was there the whole time. I’m pretty sure I was the only one who didn’t know.

That was another box. A box I hesitated to open and then slammed shut as soon as Willow said it out loud.

I like you. 

Oh.

Romantically.

Oh.

And I told her. I like you too.  

And she held my hand.

And I felt my skin tear apart, saw my flesh melt and rot off the bone.

I tried not to think about Astin. I try not to think about Astin ever. I haven’t had a dragonberry doughnut since. 

Now the box is open. Shattered.

When Willow touched my face, I felt the echo of that stinging cut. I heard the ghost of his voice. Perverted. Degenerate. Defiled. The memory twisted with what I saw, what I touched in the grimwalker lab. I could almost smell it. Rotting flesh. Vomit. Blood. 

It all morphed together in my dream. I take my mask off for Willow. She smiles at me. I smile back. Her face twists into a look of horror. What is wrong with you? she shouts in a voice that doesn’t belong to her. It’s so disgusting! Get it away from me!

It’s still replaying in my head.

Another ghost haunting me.

And I can’t tell her that.

Whatever I say, it’ll hurt her. She wants to be with me. I want to be with her. I can’t. I can’t be touched. Not like that. Not by her. 

She could look past the grimwalker thing. She already has. She knows what I am and the shit I’ve done and she still likes me.

But she can’t see what’s in my head.

You know I do this because I love you?

I know. I love you too.

Hunter

Chapter Text

Dear Flapjack,

Am I always going to feel like this?

Am I always going to be like this?

There was a time, briefly, when I thought maybe, just maybe, things could be different for me. I remember the first time I had that thought, right here in this basement.

We had been here for a week, maybe a little longer. I was still exhausted. We all were. I was still on edge, convinced that my new friends would get rid of me at any moment. The fact that they had any semblance of trust in me was baffling. Even Amity was being nice to me—it’s hard to believe she was ever a bully. Having met Odalia, I can understand why she was. Actually, the fact that Amity is kind in spite of that…Maybe that gave me hope for myself.

But it was Gus that really let me believe it.

I was straightening up my sleeping bag. You and Emmaline were chasing each other around the room. Gus was showing me this human board game he found. It had little metal pieces made to look like household objects or human vehicles. And a dog? I didn’t understand why anyone would need a thimble that small, or why a top hat would buy property. Gus said we should play. I said now wasn’t the time for games.

“It wouldn’t hurt to have a little fun, would it?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows. “If you don’t want to play Mono-poly, there’s a bunch of other cool games in here.”

“I really don’t feel like playing games, Gus. Sorry.”

“That’s one of the games!” He started digging through the box he’d found the other one in. He pulled out a colorful box with the word SORRY! written across it. “I call dibs on blue. Which color do you want?”

“I’m not playing.”

“Fine. Maybe Emmaline and Flapjack will play with me.”

I tugged at the cuffs of my gloves. “Why don’t you just play by yourself?”

“Uh, because that’s boring?”   He unfolded the board and you and Emmaline came and sat on either side. “And that’s not how board games work.”

“Oh.” All the games I’d played as a kid were played alone. For the first time, it occurred to me that that might not have been normal. “Maybe some other time.”

As he explained the rules to you two, I folded and re-folded the clothes I had acquired that week. I’d promised Camila that I would find a way to pay her back. Her generosity was bizarre. Unwarranted. She kept insisting that we didn’t need to pay her back, that she wanted to help us. All she asked was that we help out around the house. I assumed that if she found out about what I did to Luz—you know, the whole threatening to kill her and/or bring her to the Emperor—and the whole I was that evil guy’s right hand man thing, she’d send me right back out. 

As he played Sorry! with our palismen, Gus kept glancing over at me. He’s still worried I’ll snap, isn’t he? I thought. Can’t take his eyes off me for too long.

“You know,” he said as he moved a blue piece of plastic around the board. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without gloves on.”

My skin went cold. I grabbed my hands defensively, as I could hide one gloved hand with the other. “Whaaat? Sure you have!” I said, vastly overcompensating. “I wear gloves a normal amount for normal reasons and you have definitely seen me—” 

“Okay, okay.” Gus put his hands up in dismissive surrender. “Forget I said anything.”

I looked at my hands. He looked at the board, seemingly no longer interested in playing. You and Emmaline shared a glance. I kept fidgeting with my gloves, my hands sweating. That was the one of the worst parts of wearing them all the time. I was used to it, of course. But in that moment, they felt as suffocating as the gold mask and white cape I used to wear.

“Actually…” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “You’re right. I don’t really take them off. Ever.”

I didn’t look as Gus moved from the board game to sit at the opposite end of my sleeping bag. 

“How come?” he asked. “I mean, you don’t have to say if you don’t want to but, like, I’m not gonna judge you or anything.”

My eyes were still fixed on the fabric covering my hands. If Gus saw what was under there, I thought he might never look at me the same way. If I hated looking at them, how would they make Gus feel?

For just a second, I glanced up and met Gus’ eyes. His facial expression reminded me of when Amity reached out to me at Eclipse Lake with an offer of friendship I didn’t deserve. I swallowed my anxiety and tugged at the fingertips on my left glove.

“I-I guess it would be easier to sh-show you.” My hands trembled as I pulled the glove off. I held my hand out for Gus to see.

The scars were mostly all healed, overlapping lines of pink or faint white. The more recent ones, the ones on the palm, they were still red, still raw. Gus leaned forward but didn’t try to touch me.

“How—how did you get those? Did Be—”

He stopped himself before finishing his sentence, but I knew. For some reason, I told him the truth.

“Yes,” I said, putting my hands in my lap. “When I do something wrong, or when there is a lesson he wants me to remember, he gives them to me as reminders. He has— had high standards for me, especially as the Golden Guard. When I don’t meet them, there are consequences.”

I’m not sure why I spoke about him in the present tense. At the time, I thought he was dead. Even aside from that, I wasn’t under his thumb anymore.

“But, um,” I continued. “After Luz and I–I mean, after I ran away from the castle, well, that was something I wasn’t supposed to do. Something wrong. I was so…I was scared. I knew that I deserved—that he would’ve punished me worse than a with few cuts on my hand, and I just couldn’t stop feeling guilty.” I ran my gloved thumb over the bare palm of my opposite hand, the scars beneath still sensitive. “So, I…I…”  I couldn’t finish the sentence.

“...You hurt yourself?” Gus said.

My ears burned and my eyes watered as I nodded. Gus was quiet for a long moment. You flew over from the board game and landed on my shoulder, nuzzling against my neck. Brave boy, you said. Safe now. Still here.

“Anyway,” I said. “That’s why I keep the gloves on. You guys don’t need any more reasons to distrust me.”

Gus looked surprised. “What? Distrust you? Why would that make us distrust you?”

“You know, if I’m willing to hurt myself, maybe…maybe…” Maybe I’ll hurt someone else.

My younger friend was silent for a moment. Then he said, “Sometimes, when I get really overwhelmed or upset, I hit myself.”

What?

“I don’t really mean to do it. It just sorta happens, you know. It’s like I do it to make the thoughts stop, or to keep my emotions from turning into illusions that’ll affect other people, or because I’m mad at myself for feeling that way. I used to feel super embarrassed about it, and I swore I would never tell anyone but…one time, my dad saw it happen. I was afraid he’d get upset—” he looked me in the eye ”—or that he would start looking at me differently.”

“...Did he?”

Gus smiled a little. “Nah,” he said. “After I calmed down, we talked about it and he told me to tell him if I ever felt like that again. Eventually, I told Willow about it too. She taught me better ways to calm myself down, so it doesn’t happen as much anymore. And when it does happen, I don’t beat myself up about it. Ah, no pun intended.”

Good friend! Gus good! You chirped from my shoulder.

“You don’t have to tell or show anyone if you don’t want to,” Gus continued. “But our friends, they’re good people. They’re not gonna be weird about it. We still like you, Hunter.”

Slowly, I pulled the glove from my right hand. I set it down beside the other one. You gave a wordless, happy trill. Gus smiled and spun a spell circle that made the gloves high-five each other. I laughed for probably the first time since we’d gotten there.

“I don’t know if you’re still feeling that way,” Gus said. “About leaving the coven and, you know, everything. But you didn’t do anything wrong. I’m really glad you got out of there. I’m glad you’re here.”

“Oh.” I felt myself smile. “I-I think I am too.”

And for the first time, I didn’t feel guilty for being happy.

Well. I’m back in this basement. No Gus. No palismen. Just me.

Guilty.

Last night, the first night alone here, I turned to say “goodnight” to you. When I woke up, I rolled over and expected to see you curled up in a nest of fabric scraps. I saw Stringbean chittering and curling up on Luz’s head and felt my chest tighten. 

Empty.

After our Demon Realm friends went home last night, Camila went to bed early; Luz and Vee invited me to their room to play video games. I was relieved they didn’t want to talk and presumably didn’t hate me after what happened this morning. Besides, my MarioKart skills have gotten super rusty, so I needed the practice. We got so into the games that we didn’t look at the time until nearly 1:00 AM. Vee, ever the responsible one, said we needed to go to bed and that, no, we couldn’t play “one more grand prix” because that was what we said two hours earlier.

Alone, I went downstairs to the basement. To my room. It’ll take time for it to feel like that. It took time at the Owl House, too. Everything takes time.

I spent half an hour rearranging the things I’d brought with me. I took the chest that holds the palistrom serum out of my duffel bag and set it on the sewing table. I don’t know why I didn’t take it out before. Gus knows about the treatments. But it’s not like I’ve needed them yet; I did my Friday dose before I left the Owl House and the next one isn’t until tomorrow. So why does it feel like I was hiding it?

I slept with the lamp on. I’m not afraid of the dark, obviously. It just felt lonely in there without Gus. And the basement gets really dark since there’s no windows. And when I turned off the lamp, I got this sinking feeling in my stomach. I turned it back on, hugging Snow tight and almost wishing I hadn’t left Sprig with King. I should feel safe here. It is safe here. Yeah, I’m alone. I know that. But this is the Nocedas’ basement in Connecticut and not, you know, somewhere else. You know.

This morning, Camila left a note on the fridge with a few chores for us to do while she was at work. I was up several hours before Luz and Vee, and I didn’t have anything else to do, so I just took care of all of them. Dishes, vacuuming, watering plants, dusting. It wasn’t anything crazy, and I only got a little dizzy after I vacuumed.

“Dude, we were supposed to split the chores between the three of us,” Luz said when she found me wrapping the vacuum cord. “You don’t have to do it all yourself.”

“I know,” I said. “But I was already up and bored.”

“Have you even eaten yet?” Vee asked.

“Well, I had some coffee—“

“That wasn’t the question.” 

“I don’t know what I’m allowed to have,” I said. “So…no.”

She and Luz exchanged a glance. “Didn’t mom already tell you you could have whatever you’d like?” Vee said.

“Well, yes, but—”

Luz groaned and rolled her eyes. “C’mon, nerd. Let’s at least get you a poptart.”

I do like poptarts, and since Luz and Vee were also having breakfast, I felt okay eating. They’re so comfortable with each other. I don’t know how Luz does it, how she just says things and doesn’t overthink it but still knows what to say. Even more baffling is Vee. The basilisks were worse off, way more isolated and tortured than I was. I don’t know where she got her confidence. The two of us avoid talking about the overlap in our pasts. Once she found out who I was, she told me she didn’t want to dwell on the past, that she came here for a fresh start. She said I should get a fresh start too.

My “fresh start” went sour pretty quick, huh?

After breakfast, Luz asked if I wanted help making the basement feel like my own space.

“I don’t really have stuff,” I said.

“Well, we need to make room for when you do have stuff,” Luz said. “Plus you can pick out some of the stuff we already have down there. Come on!” She grabbed my hand to pull me from the table. 

I reflexively snatched it away from her. “It’s fine,” I said before she could apologize. “Let’s go move boxes around, I guess.”

The three of us came down to the basement and started sorting through and organizing boxes. Well, I was trying to sort and organize. Luz and Vee kept getting distracted by random shit we found. Luz pulled out a bunch of neck ties, a strange rope of fabric humans use as an accessory. They are intended to look “professional” but they actually look stupid. Luz and Vee tied a few around their heads and then forced me to do it too. There was a box of large music circles called “vinyl records,” but we couldn’t find the conduit used to play them. A couple of boxes had photo albums that Luz didn’t feel like looking through. There was a full-length mirror that was so dusty Vee started writing words in it. I figure that will be useful when I need to do my treatments.

After a couple hours of goofing around, the place looked messier than it had before. Human stuff is weird and I don’t understand most of it. Eventually I got Vee and Luz to put everything back in boxes. I was getting tired and wasn’t sure how much longer I could push junk around for. We got most of it against the back wall and behind the counter. We moved the sewing table so we could put an old nightstand next to the bed. I didn’t say anything when Luz pulled the birdcage from a shelf and didn’t seem to think anything of it. I put it back behind the counter after they left.

When Luz opened the door to the Cosmic Frontier closet, I told her I wanted to wait to go through all that. 

“There’s just one thing I need to get,” she said. She took out a box and set it on the end of my bed. “Check it out.”

I squinted at her, trying to discern whether or not this was some sort of prank. Then I opened the box. It was all the clothes and fabric Camila saved for me. My jacket, my O’Bailey costume, my wolf t-shirt. There were a bunch of patches and plain shirts and another denim jacket, one I hadn’t seen before. At the bottom, there was a brand new sewing kit, a little purple box with needles, a thimble, pins and a pin cushion. It wasn’t until I’d taken everything out that I saw what was written on the side of the box: Hunter’s stuff.

“Oh,” I said. I felt myself start to cry. “She did keep it.”

Luz nodded. “She didn’t want to overwhelm you when you first got here.”

“Why is she so nice to me?” I wiped my face with my sleeve.

“‘Cuz she loves you.”

“Duh,” Vee added. “She’s like, the nicest ever. And she means what she says.”

“You’re still family, Hunter,” Luz said. “And it’ll be official as soon as mama forges the paperwork.”

I couldn’t respond. I wanted them to hug me, but they’d been avoiding touching me the entire time we were down here. I should’ve just hugged them myself, I know. But I couldn’t. 

They went up stairs to put together a late lunch/early dinner, and I said I’d be up in a second. As they walked out, I laid the clothes out on my bed. It was hard to look at the O’Bailey costume; the wolf shirt was worse. And I didn’t care about the sloppy stitchwork. I could just get rid of them, but they are just clothes. They’ve clearly been washed. And all that stuff happened so long ago. 

For now, they’re back in the box, under everything else.

The patch-covered jacket, on the other hand, felt like a dream. I was in some kind of fugue state when I put everything on it. I was so excited. I was excited making the costume too. The whole time we were here, I got to choose what I wore. I’d never been able to do that before, not beyond socks I was able to keep hidden—and even those were a risk. This jacket, I didn’t even know what half the stuff was before I sewed it on. And yeah, it’s got two completely different sleeves, but I sewed it together. Making all this…I think it was the first time I liked myself.

I started crying again. I was so close. I was happy. I hadn’t even realized that was an option. The closest thing I’d had to happiness was the satisfaction of doing what he wanted. It was always what he wanted. What he told me I needed. When I finally had what I wanted—when I finally let myself want anything—he punished me for it. He ruined it. He ruined my costume and my wolves, things I loved. He took you. He ruined me.

And I’m still thinking about it. I can’t look at myself without thinking about it. I can’t be touched without feeling it. I wake up clawing at my skin. I thought getting rid of the poison would make it go away. But it was never about the poison. It always comes back to him. To me.

I grabbed at my chest, clutched the fabric of my shirt, trying to feel you, searching for that warmth.

All I could feel was my own heart, weak and racing.

Why can I hear him and not you?

Maybe, if I would just get over myself and be normal, I could’ve said yes to Willow. 

Another want I let him ruin.

She wants me. Actually wants me. The way I want her. And I fucked it up. I can’t be what she needs. What she deserves.

Willow. The first person who met me as someone other than the Golden Guard. Who didn’t make me feel like I was worthless. Who forgave me after I betrayed her.

I didn’t really sleep Saturday night. I couldn’t stop replaying what had happened. I went over a thousand versions of what I could say. I tried to get the memories out of my system. I thought about how, if I hadn’t freaked out, it would’ve gone so different. If I could just be normal…I wanted to kiss her. I’ve been wanting to kiss her for months. If I’d done something about it after Luz’s coming home party the way Amity told me I should, or when I got sick the first time and Willow spent hours taking care of me and then kissed my forehead, maybe things would be different. I got so stuck in my own stupid head that I missed my chance.

What makes it worse is that I’m pretty sure all our friends have been expecting us to start dating. Apparently they were all talking about it behind my back. Not only did I disappoint Willow, I disappointed everyone else.

When it was getting to be morning, I went up to the living room and waited on the couch. Did I know what I was going to say to her? No. Did I have to say something anyway? Yes. I knew that I did. And I knew that no matter what I said, it wouldn’t fix what I am. When she walked in with Amity, I stood up. Amity winked at her and walked into the next room, leaving the two of us alone.

“Good morning, Captain,” I said, my face burning.

“Good morning to you too, Hunter,” Willow said, smiling slightly. “Are you feeling okay?” She squinted at me. “Did you sleep at all?”

“Not important. I–We need to talk, I think. Yeah. Please.”

“Yeah, I think so too,” she said. “Do you wanna talk here or…?”

“Outside? I mean, if that’s okay, since it’s a little more private and the others—”

“We can go outside.”

So, we took a walk. The morning was still cool. I kept my hands in the pockets of my sweatshirt. I saw her’s fidgeting from the corner of my eyes. We walked in silence until we were about halfway between the Noceda house and the portal shack. I stopped and took a deep breath.

“Captain,” I started. “Willow.”

She turned to face me, her green eyes so bright against the gray morning. “Hunter.”

“About yesterday…”

“Mhmm?”

“I meant what I said. I mean, I really do like you. I do.” Another deep breath. “But I…I don’t think we should date.”

Her face fell. Shame burned through me.

“Oh,” she said. “Um. Okay.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have—”

“But I am sorry.” I pressed my back against the tree behind me, my head spinning slightly. “I don’t want—I mean, I wish…I wish it was different. I wish I was different.”

“Hunter…” She pursed her lips. I told myself to stop looking at her lips and turned away.

“I’m still really freaked out by all the shit that happened at school and the whole being poisoned thing. I don’t know. I just—it was bad. I don’t know what…what I am. My body, it doesn’t feel like it’s really mine. There’s something wrong with me. He—The—You know, the whole grimwalker thing. I can’t—I can’t be who I need to be for you.”

I stammered through the explanation. I don’t know if I made any sense. I knew I wasn’t entirely honest. As much as it was about my body, about what I am, it was just as much about what happened in my head when she touched me, when I thought about her touching me.

 Willow was quiet for a long time. She sniffled. The fact that I’d made her cry made me want to die.

“I don’t need you be anything other than who you are. I don’t want you to be different.” she said. “I like you. You. It doesn’t matter that you’re a grimwalker.” She reached for my hands. I jerked them away.

“Yes. It does.”  

I’m so tired of hearing that. It doesn’t matter. You aren’t different. You’re the same as us. I’m not the same. I’ve never been the same. Even if she doesn’t see that now, one day she will. She’ll see those books, she’ll hear about what’s really in the Head of the Titan, she’ll realize that my little breakdowns aren’t going away. That I can’t be fixed. “Willow. It does matter.”

“I know how—”

“No.” I squeezed my eyes shut. “You don’t know. Y-you don’t know what it’s like. In my head, in my…my…You don’t know.”

“But it doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

“It should!”   I shouted. I immediately clamped my hand over my mouth. 

She flinched and took a single step back.

I didn’t mean to yell. “I’m sorry.” My voice squeaked. I took a couple of shaking breaths before I continued. “I’m sorry. I just…everyone says it doesn’t matter. But it matters to me. I can’t…I can’t stand myself, Willow. I can’t even look at myself.” 

I was told that I was better than witches who engaged in romantic relationships, that the plan the Titan had for me was more important. But it’s the opposite way around, isn't it?

“I can’t be a boyfriend. Not now.”

She looked at me with tear-filled eyes. I could tell she wanted to keep trying to convince me. I wanted to die. There’s nothing she could’ve said that would’ve worked. I can’t put her through my shit any more than I already have. Not now. Not when I can’t touch her without thinking of

“I… I still want to be your friend, though,” I said.

“I still want to be your friend too,” Willow said.

“Is it gonna be awkward now?” I asked

“I don’t want it to be awkward,” Willow answered.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“Is it?”

“It will be,” Willow answered.

We walked back to the house in silence. Plants twisted up in the places she stepped. I shoved my hands in my pockets, too tired or numb to cry. When we came inside, our friends all looked up and then pretended like they hadn’t been anxiously awaiting the outcome of our conversation. I made eye contact with Willow. She smiled softly at me, her nose red, and said, “I’ll tell them,” too quiet for the others to hear.

I attempted to smile back.

As she started saying whatever she decided to reveal to our friends, I headed downstairs. I curled up on my bed, hugging my wolf and wishing I was someone else. I didn’t go back up until Gus came and got me for lunch.

I was mostly quiet for the rest of the day. Nobody acted like they were mad at me, but I didn’t want to say anything that might screw that up. Luz gave me this thing, a “fidget spinner,” which kept my eyes and hands occupied. I think she saw me picking at the scab on my hand.

After dinner, the seven of us walked to the shack and the portal door. I didn’t feel like hugging anyone so I awkwardly waved at Willow, Amity, and Gus as they headed home.

The walk back to the Nocedas’ house was strange. Quiet. There were frogs croaking in the forest. There was a slight chill in the air, the heat of the day evaporating as the sun went down. I wondered how Eda and King were doing. Maybe it doesn’t feel all that different to them since I spent most of my time in my room anyway. 

Tonight during dinner, a full day later, I was quiet. Still. The fun of organizing the basement left me tired, and looking at my old clothes left me feeling defeated.

I flicked the fidget spinner under the table, trying to pay attention to what the others were talking about. Ideas for what to do this summer. The suggestion of me learning to drive (I couldn’t muster a more enthusiastic response than “I dunno, maybe”). They mentioned the possibility of going to the zoo; I think they were trying to cheer me up again. Afterwards, Luz and Vee once again invited me to play video games with them. Doing that seemed easier than being in the basement by myself all night, so I accepted.

We started off with Super Smash Bros, and it didn’t take me long to get the hang of it again. Having hyperactive reflexes pays off sometimes. 

I really don’t know what set me off. I thought I’d gotten enough crying done before dinner. But there was a moment of quiet while we were switching from Smash to MarioKart, and I burst into tears.

Sitting on either side of me, Luz and Vee stared with wide eyes.

“Hunter?” Luz said.

“Sorry guys,” I sobbed. “I-I don’t know happened.” 

“What do you need?” Vee asked.

I said what I’d wanted to earlier. “A hug.”

Immediately, their arms were wrapped around me. I sobbed into Luz’s t-shirt. Vee rubbed my back in a circular motion, a gesture that’s become more comforting each time someone has done it.

“It’s okay, hermano,” Luz said. “It’ll be okay.”

When the intensity of my crying subsided and we pulled apart, I wiped my face with my sleeves. “Thank you,” I said, feeling small and vulnerable. But somehow, maybe safe. “I just…I fucked up. With Willow. Do you think she hates me now?”

“I don’t think that’s possible,” Vee said. “She’s been down bad since last year.”

Not sure what “down bad” means, but I got the idea.

“She’s not mad at you,” Luz confirmed. “I swear. She’s just, you know. Sad.”

“What happened, exactly?”

I wiped my face and pushed at my sleeves. If there’s anyone in either realm who can understand what’s it like to be something that shouldn’t exist, it’s Vee. If there’s anyone who can understand being a disaster around a girl they like, it’s Luz. 

I explained what happened during the weekend, first on Saturday and then yesterday morning, in a way that was only somewhat coherent. I left out the nightmare I had Saturday night. But the important parts, the relevant parts, I managed to spit out.

“I mean, it’s not just the—what I am. It’s not just about that. I-It’s my head. My mind. I just freaked out when she touched me. When she said she liked me. I don’t know. It was fine before! I was okay with her! I don’t know what changed. All those thoughts—”

“What thoughts?” Luz asked.

My mouth went dry. I ran my thumb over the scars on my hand, each ridge a reminder of how bad I am.

“I-I just feel—I mean, whenever I do something wrong, or if I do something I think or I thought was wrong, I start hearing—I hear…” The words caught in my throat, coming out as only a strangled whimper. Pathetic. You can’t even speak right. I clenched my hands into fists and resisted the urge to hit myself.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Luz’s hand hovered over mine. “It’s okay.”

I hate that people hesitate to touch me, like I’m wet paper that will break with one wrong touch. I hate the fact that they’re usually right. I hate recoiling from every unexpected touch, and as much as I wanted Luz to take my hand, I was so hyper-aware of the scars that I didn’t let her.

“Do you want some ice?” she asked.

I nodded and let my head fall on her shoulder again. Vee got up to bring the ice. After two ice cubes pressed against my palms, face, and neck until they melted, I felt like I could speak again.

“Titan, that’s so embarrassing,” I muttered, picking up a third cube.

“Yeah, experiencing emotions is sooo cringe,” Luz said sarcastically as she nudged me with her shoulder. “I would never do that.”

“For sure,” Vee added. “I personally have never cried before.”

“Me either,” Luz laughed, apparently unable to keep a straight face while telling such an obvious lie.

I laughed too. “Didn’t mean to ruin game night,” I said.

“Oh, we’re still going to beat your ass at MarioKart.” Vee picked up her controller. “Don’t worry about that.”

“If you’re still down to play,” Luz said.

I wiped my face a final time. “I could use a couple rounds of distraction.”

I played worse than I had the night before, but I didn’t care. I just wanted to be near them, two of the only people I feel fully comfortable around. Well, as fully comfortable as I’ve ever felt.

When we eventually went to bed sometime after midnight, I came downstairs to find the box of clothes and fabric still on my bed. The patch-covered jacket hung over the side, with the plain old denim jacket just under it. I grabbed both jackets and sat down. 

I ran my fingers over the stitches of my jacket. Messy work. I could do better now. I can learn how to properly use the sewing contraption. And with the new jacket (well, not exactly new. It’s got a few holes and several areas are worn down to the thread), I have another chance. It needs to be patched up and I can at least do that, right? Maybe that’s why Camila gave it me. I’ll make sure she really wants me to have it before I do anything, but if I end up making it my own, I’ll be more thoughtful about it this time. 

It’s something. One thing I know I can do. And I won’t think about him when I’m sewing this.

I’ll think about you. About Luz and Eda and Camila and my friends. The people who don’t make me feel worthless.

That’s something I can do.

Hunter

Chapter Text

Dear Flapjack,

It’s humiliating being this weak.

I spent most of today organizing and planning what I want to have in the basement. I probably should’ve gotten help moving the tables around. I had to sit down for an hour to recover. 

Physical strength was the one thing I always had. I was stronger than most witches since I couldn’t rely on magic. Now I can’t even rely on my own strength. I guess this is what Luz meant when she said we have to rely on others sometimes.

I was feeling better by dinnertime. I was even able to keep up with the conversation. I don’t really remember what we were talking about, but I knew in the moment. It’s just that, afterwards, I had other things on my mind.

It’s Tuesday. Treatment day. I’d been planning on doing it myself. I'm aware that this wouldn’t make any sense logistically, but I wasn’t about to ask for help with something like this.

With Eda, I sort of got used to it. After the first time she treated one of my injuries, it was easier to let her do it again. But here? I mean, this is a Boiling Isles injury/poison/condition/whatever the fuck. It’s not human. It doesn't belong here. The people who do shouldn't have to deal with it.

After helping with the dishes, I turned to go downstairs. I was halfway down the hall when Camila called after me.

“Hunter, mijo, wait up,” she said.

I froze in my tracks. “Sorry.” I assumed I'd done something wrong, missed some of the dishes or put something in the wrong place.

“What for?” Camila asked as I turned to face her.

My mouth opened, but I didn't have an answer. “I don’t know? What should I be sorry about?”

“No, no, there’s nothing you need to be sorry for.” She shook her head and then looked at me with what I assume was concern. “You need to do your treatment today, right?”

I grimaced. “You know about that?”

“Eda sent me a letter with instructions.”

My face burned. Of course Eda told Camila. “Oh.”

“I know you prefer to do things independently, but this seems pretty hard to do on your own.”

My instinct was to say no and insist on doing it myself. I could reach the wound, even though I had to be lying on my right side, so I’d have to twist in a weird way to do it, and then I’d have to lie there until it was fully absorbed, and I’d have to be extra careful not to drop the vial because the shaking in my hands gets worse between doses.  Okay, yeah, thinking it through, doing it myself suddenly seemed really stupid.

“Probably. Yeah.”

“Is it okay if I help you with it?”

“Are you sure?” I asked. “It’s kind of weird, isn’t it?”

“Of course not, mijo. I treat wounds and illnesses for a living. And this doesn’t even require a needle.”

“Oh, yeah. Right. Yeah. I would…really appreciate your help, Camila.”

I told her we could do it a little later, before bedtime. She agreed.

For the rest of the evening, I mentally prepared myself. Well, I tried to. I think it ended up having a counterproductive effect. I worked myself about the whole thing. What if she gets grossed out? What if my skin really does start rotting off? What if my other scars scare her?

After I showered, I took that full-length mirror out. I wanted to know exactly what Camila was going to have to look at. I can’t remember the last time I let myself really look in a mirror. 

I was going to have to face this eventually.

To face me.

Is that really me?

I didn’t recognize that scrawny thing in the mirror. If that’s what I look like after two weeks of “recovery,” how much worse was I before? Standing there in boxers and a t-shirt, all those scars on my arms, my legs, my hands, my neck. And I never got used to the ones on my face. They look like his. I look like him.

Once I started, I couldn’t look away. The damp hair cold against my face. Eye-bags like bruises. Harsh shadows against my collarbones.

Now I understand why they all look at me like that. Like I’m sick. Frail. Pathetic. This is what they’re looking at. This is what they see and call “Hunter.” 

How can they stand it? 

My hair is down to my shoulders. The last time I cut it—I don’t even remember. I think Willow helped me with it when I went back to Hexside.

Willow. Oh Titan. Why would she even want to touch that? It doesn’t look much better than a rotting corpse. It doesn’t look like me. 

I almost forgot why I decided to bring out the mirror to begin with. The wound on my side. It’s just another scar now, even though it hurts more than the others. Those scars pull at my skin, tearing or painfully tingling. The one on my side goes through skin to my muscles. The medicine has helped, but by the end of tonight, days after the last treatment, I could feel it in my shoulders and ribs.

I lifted my shirt to look at it. The blackish-green staining my skin and veins is more of a blue tone now. That’s probably a sign of improvement. It is getting better. It won’t look like this forever.

I stood there, staring numbly at the discoloration until Camila knocked on my door.

“Ah—one second!” I turned from the mirror and put on my baggiest pyjama pants. I dashed up the stairs faster than I should have and opened the door.

“You ready?” Camila smiled at me. She carried a plastic first aid kit. 

“Yes!” I lied. It was just another thing I wanted to be over. So Camila and I walked downstairs. She went over the instructions Eda had given and I clarified a couple of the steps. It’s not too complicated, really.

I lie down on my right side. I pull my shirt up enough to expose the infection site. Eda, and now Camila, cleans the area. I clench my fists. Camila picks up the glass vial of grayish-blue serum, takes off the cap, and attaches the dropper. Three heavy drops directly on the wound site.

“Now I just have to lie here until it’s dry,” I said. I don’t know if I wanted her to stay or leave. She had no reason to stay. Her job was done. “That’s it.”

She was sitting on the little bench that usually sits behind the sewing table. “You said it’s getting better, right?”

“Yeah, it looked way worse before.” I'm too tired to walk on eggshells about this. I can never phrase things right, so I might as well be blunt. “I was basically dying.”

Camila’s face scrunched up the way it did when we told her about food from the Boiling Isles. “It must have been so painful. You’re very strong for getting through that.”

I laughed humorlessly. “I don’t feel strong.” Especially not there, lying with my ribs exposed, my body entirely vulnerable.

There was a moment of silence, and I thought Camila was going to leave. Then she said, “I’ve been meaning to ask you about what happened the other day, on the porch with Willow?”

Unable to turn away, I squeezed my eyes shut. “I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean to freak out.” Something is wrong with me. “It just sort of happens sometimes. Sorry.”

Camila continued, “Willow came and talked to me afterwards.”

My shoulders tensed.

“She said she’s worried about you. Especially about the way you were hitting your head?”

I clenched my fists. No, no, no. Don’t talk about it. It didn’t happen. I didn’t mean it.

“Eda told me she’d been worried you’d do something to hurt yourself.”

“I don’t feel that way any more.” The words came out before I could think about them. “That was just, I don’t know. I wasn’t feeling good. I’m fine now.”

“But on Saturday—“

“That was different!” I said too loudly. I still had a couple of minutes before the serum would be fully absorbed. I wanted out. I wanted to run. “It’s just a stupid thing that happens when I get too upset.” It’s stupid and I can’t control it and no one is supposed to see it and I’m not supposed to behave that way. “I won’t let it happen again.” 

“Okay, mijo.” Camila smiled at me in a way that seemed forced. “Is there anything else you need tonight?”

“I’m fine, thank you.” I hope she didn’t see the tear leaking from my right eye. “Buenas noches, Camila.”

“Igualmente, mijo.”  

By the time she left, the serum had been fully absorbed. I always wait a little longer than I actually need to, just to be sure that it works the way it’s supposed to. I can’t waste any of the medicine.

I pulled my shirt back down and got up to turn the mirror back around. But then I made the mistake of looking again. I stared at my own eyes, couldn’t pull myself away. My eyes. Bloodshot. Brown irises, like yours. Like Luz and Camila’s. Framed by scars. The first thing people see when they look at me. Sometimes it’s the only thing they see. Such a distinct face. 

The first time I saw myself like this, I wanted to throw up. 

It was the morning after everything ended. I woke up on the floor of what would become my room at the Owl House. The five of us plus King were all crammed in there under a pile of blankets. It was the best we could do since most of Eda’s belongings were still in a coven storage facility.

There was faint light coming through the colored glass. Everyone else was still asleep. I got up from in between Gus and Willow, careful not to disturb them, and stepped out to find the bathroom. 

Before then, I had caught a few glimpses of my reflection in broken windows, but I was mostly avoiding it. I could feel that my face had changed, but there had been more important things to worry about.

It’s not like my face was ever really my own. It’s not like any part of my body was ever mine. 

It was always his. His desperate attempts to make “a better version” of his dead brother. His tool to use and break as he pleased.

Luz found me in there, sobbing and hyperventilating on the bathroom floor. She took my hands to stop me pulling at my hair. After I calmed down a little bit, she asked if I wanted to cut it again, but I shook my head. At the time, I couldn’t explain why I didn’t want to cut my hair. 

I’ve been afraid to cut it short ever since.

Looking at it tonight, at my hair, my face…I don’t look like me. 

The last thing he did to me was to change what I look like. Was to make me look like…

I started to feel dizzy and turned the mirror around. Guess I wasn’t exaggerating when I told Willow I can’t stand to look at myself. 

It’s good to know it’ll be there if I ever want to subject myself to mental torture.

But I don’t need a mirror to do that, do I?

Hunter

Chapter Text

Dear Flapjack,

Sorry it’s been so long since I’ve written. I know it doesn’t actually matter. It’s not like you can actually read these letters. Since birds can’t read. Ha ha ha.

I’ve been in the human realm for a few weeks now. I haven’t gone back to the Boiling Isles at all. I promised like, five different people that I would come back to visit. I can’t even bring myself to walk out to the shack. Luz keeps asking if I’ll go with her, and she said she’ll stop asking if I tell her to. But it’s good that she asks. If I ever When I do decide to go, it’ll be a nice surprise for her. I did ask her to bring my books from the Owl House and to give Eda an apology note from me.

Dear Eda,

The idea of going back to the demon realm makes me feel like barfing and/or passing out. Are people still obsessed with me being a grimwalker? Will anyone try to kill me on sight if I show up in Bonesburough? Sorry to let you down again this week. Tell King I’m sorry too. Miss you both.

Your honorary kid, Sad Boy

Luz said I didn’t have to add the “honorary,” but I felt weird. I don’t like to be presumptuous. Even though Eda has explicitly called me “her kid” multiple times. 

I thought the house would be boring on the days Luz wasn’t here, but it’s actually pretty fun hanging out with Vee. And I’ve found ways to keep myself busy. The jacket is coming along pretty nicely. I’m taking my time with it, and I’ve been practicing embroidery on some fabric scraps before trying it on the jacket.

A couple weeks ago, I was in the living room with Vee while she played this freaky game on Luz’s computer (I think it’s called the Sims?). I was pretty deeply concentrated on the floral patch I was sewing over a tear on the right shoulder. I really didn’t want this one to end up looking like sutures. Camila came in after work and saw that I was working on the jacket. She got this look on her face. At first I thought she was happy, but then she teared up and I got confused.

“Is everything okay? Am I not supposed to be—?”

“No, no, Hunter. Everything is good.” She wiped her tears. “You’re all good. I’m just glad you took that old jacket.”

“Well, it was with the other sewing stuff you gave me, so…”

She sat down beside me on the couch. “This was my husband’s,” she said. “He had it for decades, wore it down to the seams, but he refused to ever get rid of it.” Camila smiled. “He wouldn’t want it to be stuck down in the basement forever. It deserves a second life.”

A second life. I guess that’s what I have. 

“Plus,” she continued. “You’ve got the shoulders for it.”

I’m not sure what she meant by that. The jacket is too big for me.

Luz, Vee, and I have done some “summer activities.” Not swimming, though. It’s not that I can’t swim. I can. What I can’t do is show off that much of my body. Even if I wear a t-shirt in addition to the swim trunks, that’s still surface area I prefer to keep to myself.

I actually wore shorts and short-sleeves last year. I didn’t feel self-conscious, and most of my scars were still hidden. Guess that’s another thing Belos took. Comfortable summer clothes.

Thrillingly, Camila nearly has all the paperwork necessary for me to pass off as a Normal Guy from the Human Realm. And I think I’m going to learn how to drive a car. According to the paperwork, I’m 17 years old, which is deemed an appropriate age for one to learn how to drive a car. I learned how to fly airships when I was 13. I can’t imagine driving Camila’s human car being harder than that. I do think she was surprised that I said yes to her suggestion so easily.

The thing is, if I can drive, I’ll be able to run errands so she won’t have to. There’s only so much I can do around the house, and Luz and Vee don’t like when I do more than my “fair share” of the chores. But they’re too young to drive, so I’ll have those tasks to myself.

I can be useful.

Also…driving is done sitting down. I still have a lot of weak days. I’m trying to push through it. Can’t get stronger if I don’t push through it. And it’s embarrassing to have to ask someone else to open a fucking jar for me. I should not be getting fatigued doing one lap of walking around the block. I used to run for miles at a time. I could scale buildings without using magic.

“I mean, it makes sense,” Luz told me during the first week. She was doing laundry in the basement while I practiced patchwork. “You were like, really sick.”

“Well, I’m not sick anymore,” I said, irritated. I was about to learn that sewing while irritated is not a great idea. “So I don’t have an excuse.”

“An excuse for what? Being tired? For not instantly regaining muscle after weeks of being sick and not eating enough?” Luz smashed the button to start the dryer. “You don’t have to do everything, Hunter. It’s okay to rest for a while.”

The needle pricked my finger. I swore and kept sewing. “I’ve rested long enough.”

I haven’t kept up my strength, I haven’t been in school in weeks, I’m hiding from my demon realm problems. The least I can do is get back to “peak physical condition.” I’ve been so lazy.

“Have you actually rested?” Luz asked.

I grit my teeth. “Don’t lecture me about rest, Luz.”

She put her hands up. “Far be it from me to lecture anyone about anything. I just don’t want you to work yourself to death.”

I scoffed and said something I immediately regretted. “Well, that’s what I was made to do. Guess it’s in my blood.”

“Hunter, don’t do that.”

I didn’t respond, just kept my focus on the patch. I pricked my finger again. My hands were shaking.

“I don’t care what you think you were made for,” Luz said. “I know you want more than that.”

Want. “If you haven’t noticed, I don’t get what I want.”

“That isn’t true.”

“No, you’re right. I get what I want, and then I fuck it up.” My anger had been building for a while. I’d shoved it down and focused on anything besides my own thoughts. “I got to be a Hexside student and then I got myself kicked out.”

“Hunter—“

“Willow tells me she likes me romantically, and I freak out and scare her and ruin it. I start living here and I can’t get through the day without throwing up or passing out.”

“You’re still throwing up?”

Only twice. I ignored her question. “And when we got stuck here, I finally, finally let myself want things. I started thinking about what I’d like to do with my life. I cut my hair so I could be my own person, because I wanted to look at myself and see something other than a dead man—I finally wanted to be alive. And you know what happened next?” I laughed manically and mimicked slitting my throat because I didn’t know how to mimick drowning. “I killed myself!” And my best friend!

“But you’re here now. You have a second—“

“A second chance?” I shook my head. “Yeah. A second chance that I’m wasting. I don’t know what I’m doing!  Maybe I can’t do anything! Maybe I’m a freak of supernature that can’t be anything more than someone else’s rotting flesh! Maybe I’m cursed! Maybe I am a curse.” My hands were clenched, nails digging my palms.

Luz sat down on the end of my bed. “Maybe you are.”

“Don’t try to—Wait, what….?” That was not the answer I expected.

“Maybe you are a curse or a freak. But you’re also my brother. You’re family, hermano.”

“Oh.”

“Yep, and you’re not getting out of being loved by hating yourself.”

“You…really mean it, don’t you?”

“I already told you,”  she said. “I can’t lie to you. Now let me see your hands.”

I unclenched my fists and held out my hands. No blood drawn. Just white crescents pressed into healed scar tissue.

I can’t say that I felt much better after than conversation. If anything, I just felt guilty for lashing out a Luz for a second time in a week. I hate being angry. I hate talking to anyone like that. Loud. Aggressive. 

That guilt. It made me nauseous again. I’m not supposed to be angry anymore. That’s not who I am anymore. 

Only, that’s exactly what I am. Angry and aggressive and broken. Guess it’s in my blood.

I thought being here would make me feel better. My in-house anxiety has gone away, at least during the day, but I still… those thoughts. I still hear them. I’m not going to do anything. I promised Eda and Camila and Luz that I wouldn’t. My brain, it just gets so loud sometimes. I’m trying to focus on the good stuff. Like the fact that the Nocedas really do feel like family. At least as far as I can tell. I don’t have much to compare it to. I feel like I’ve known Luz my whole life. And honestly? Meeting you and her was the real start to my life. Everything before that…it wasn’t really mine, you know?

I’ve been trying to decide what patches to put on the jacket—Manny’s old jacket. I’ve patched up the holes and worn out seams, but when it comes to personal expression, it’s hard to commit to anything. I’m trying to be intentional this time. And I have a couple ones I know I want—I’m working on stitching a cardinal, of course, and I’ll definitely put some Cosmic Frontier stuff on it. That just feels right, since Manny also loved it.

I wish I knew more about him.

From what I’ve heard, he was a pretty good example of what a dad should be.

Fuck. That reminds me. This conversation I had with Luz the other night. I couldn’t sleep and went upstairs to get some water, maybe even a snack. But I sat down at the table and couldn’t get up to get anything. Anxiety glued me to the chair.

What did I tell you?

I was so small. It’s one of my earliest memories. 

“Hunter, I asked you a question.” He towered over me. Whenever I looked up at him like that, I felt so puny, always aware he had the power to squash me like a bloodyfly. “What did I tell you?”

I mumbled my answer. It wasn’t satisfactory. Not enough for him.

“I bring you here, give you food and shelter, more than enough, far more than you’ve earned.”   He leaned down and held the half-eaten sweetcake in front of my face. “Is this the thanks I get for taking you in?”

“I’m sorry, uncle,” I said, on the verge of throwing up the two bites of sweetcake I had stolen. I felt so guilty for disappointing him, for not appreciating his generosity. “I was hungry and—”

He slapped me across the face. I fell on the ground, hand over my stinging cheek. I think I was too shocked to cry. He’d never hit me before.

“Do not make excuses, child.” He stood up at his full height. “You will learn to be grateful. You’d be dead without me. The Titan deemed your life worth saving. You will not dishonor the Titan’s mercy like this again. Do you understand?”

I nodded. I was scared. I didn’t know if I could speak at all.

“Use your words, Hunter.” My uncle said, a phrase that was already becoming familiar. “I’ll ask again: do you understand?”

I choked out the two words he always wanted to hear. “Yes, uncle.”

He locked me in my room for two days after that, warning that every word of protest would mean an extra day without food.

Sitting in the Nocedas' kitchen in the dark, I couldn’t stop replaying that memory in my mind. Even a glass of water felt like it would be taking too much, taking more than I’ve earned.

Luz found me there, illuminated by the faint light of her phone screen.

“Hey,” she said.

I gave a nod to acknowledge her presence.

Just like old times, I thought. The “Insomniac Duo” is one of many titles Luz has given our friendship—Insomniac Duo, Death Defying Duo, Tricked by Belos Buddies (featuring Lilith), Boo-boo Buddies (featuring King and anyone else Luz has stuck a band-aid on), the list goes on. We found each other at this table or on the living room floor on many occasions last year.

“Want a snack?”

I shrugged.

She poured herself a bowl of dry cereal and sat down, eating the peanut butter/chocolate puffs by hand. She held the bowl out to me and I shook my head. After a couple more bites, she cleared her throat.

“We also have the fruity flavored ones,” she said. “If that sounds better.”

I do like those fruity puffs. And Luz was offering, which meant I wouldn’t be taking anything I shouldn’t. I thought about it for a second and then nodded.

She smiled and immediately got me a bowl of rainbow colored cereal. I ate it one piece at a time.

“You don’t have to worry about eating our food,” she said. “It’s ours, and that includes you.”

I shrugged again. I knew she was telling the truth. I know this isn’t

“Luz,” I said, my voice quiet and rough after not speaking for several hours. “Did you ever…” I tried to figure out how to phrase a question I’d been sitting on for weeks—longer, probably. “When you were younger, did your parents…” I felt guilty even thinking about asking. “I mean, when you got in trouble…”

“Oh,” Luz said. She paused with a handful of cereal halfway to her mouth. “Well, they got mad sometimes. I was kind of a menace as a kid, especially since I was an only child, and since I’m, you know, me. They were crazy patient, actually.”

“Hmm.” I ate another piece of cereal.

“There was this one time,” Luz continued. “After dad died. Mama was really stressed. She had to work a lot to make up for taking so much time off. We were having dinner and I dropped an entire plate of spaghetti on the floor. Glass and noodles everywhere. With everything she was dealing with, it all built up.” Her voice dropped to a hesitant whisper. “She sort of took it out on me that time.”

I’ve accused Luz of speaking without thinking, but I guess she’s influencing me because I did not think before asking something incredibly stupid.

“Did she hit you?”

“Oh my gosh, no!” Luz said immediately. “Of course not, she would never—!” She stopped and gave me the worst look. Her eyes got all wide and sad. “Oh, Hunter. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“It’s fine. It was a stupid question. I’m sorry.” My hands started shaking. I hid them under the table. “I know Camila isn’t—I know she’s not…she’s not like that.”

“...Like Belos?”

I’m not sure if she said it as a question, but I nodded anyway.

“Pretty sure he’s a statistical outlier and should not have been counted,” she said in what I think was a joking tone. I didn’t really get it but I gave a breathy chuckle anyway.

“Sorry,” I said again. I winced a little, expecting the usual ‘don’t apologize,’ but it didn’t come.

“Guess you’re not exactly king or queen of thinking things through either, huh?” She smirked.

That got a more earnest laugh out of me. “Guess not.”

We finished our cereal in silence. Luz was done a few minutes before me, but she waited. I got really dizzy when I stood up. My attempt to brush it off did not convince my sister that I was as “totally fine” as I claimed, so she stood at the basement door until I got to the bottom of the stairs.

I don’t know, Flap. I don’t know why I asked.

Okay, yeah. I do know.

It’s just kinda hard to imagine growing up without a raised hand (or claw) around the corner of every word, action, or breath.

My dad uncle would beat me for less than a broken dish in a Titan’s heartbeat.

Those dreams I have. The ones where he leaves me and I call him that. I call him dad. I keep thinking it, even when I’m awake. And then I think about how Willow talks about her dads, how they haven’t always been perfect but they have always done their best to love and support her. And Gus’ dad, who’s always saying how proud he is of Gus. 

And Emmanuel Noceda. Manny. Who loved Cosmic Frontier and the Good Witch Azura. Who had stacks of music circles and wore the same denim jacket for 20 years. 

Then there’s my “dad.” It’s sick to even call him that. The things he did to me…that’s not what a dad does, is it? 

But it’s over. He’s gone. Dead. Extremely extra dead. And I sort of almost have two moms now. I have siblings. They chose me. For some reason.

Is this the thanks I get for taking you in?

I’m not going to get angry again. Not at Luz or Camila or Vee. I’m not going to take this for granted, even if they say I don’t owe them anything. At the very least, I owe them gratitude. I’ll keep the anger…elsewhere. I’ll be good. I’ll be what they deserve.

Hunter

Chapter Text

Dear Flapjack,

Well, it turns out that visiting the demon realm would’ve been a bad idea after all. 

Everyone is always like, “Hunter, you don’t need to worry,” “People like you for who you are, Hunter!” Except there’s plenty of people who hate me for what I am. Everyone loves to have a common enemy, and being the only necromantic homunculus anyone knows has made me an easy target. Evidently, getting suspended from Hexside for attacked other students did nothing good for my reputation. Aside from the squad, Amity’s siblings, and the Entrails, the student body seems to be, at best, apathetic to the idea of my existence. Apparently Boscha has been using this (this being me) as an excuse to bully Amity and Willow again. I’m sure she and Zira Pestris would get along just swimmingly. Let’s just say I would not pass up the opportunity to headbutt Boscha in the face. 

Luz told me about it when she got home on Wednesday. She spent a couple extra days in the demon realm and, since she like, saved the world and everything, Principal Bump lets her show up to random classes whenever she gets the chance. I should’ve asked her to bring me some homework. Anyways, it turns out that the answer to both the questions I asked Eda in the note I sent her was yes. The good people of Bonesburough are ready to photograph, harass, or kill me at any given moment.

“I’d tell you not to be dramatic,” Luz said when I told her I could never show my face in town or at Hexside again. She’d come down to my room to deliver the news. “But last time I said that we ended up running from an angry mob.”

“Well, yes!” I said. “Sometimes being a pessimist pays off.”

“Seriously, though,” Luz got back on track. “If you do end up visiting, you’ll probably be stuck in the Owl House the whole time.”

“And I’ve had enough of that.”

“Exactly.”

I hugged Snow to my chest. “Now do you get why I didn’t want to tell anyone?” She never really understood the big deal, not when we first found out. Can’t say I’m mad that she ended up telling all of our friends while I was dead. At least I didn’t have to tell them.

“I get it,” Luz said. She pulled at a loose thread on her shirt. “I always knew the Boiling Isles had their fair share of assholes, but I guess I hoped there would be a little more kindness to go around after everything that happened.”

“Societal collapse doesn’t always bring out the best in witches,” I said. “History is a cycle.”

Stringbean noodled out of Luz’s pocket and curled up against my shoulder. I scratched the top of her head.

“Hey, at least palismen like you,” Luz said earnestly. 

I laughed. “Maybe I’ll go live in the Bat Queen’s forest.”

“Ah yes, learn the ways of the palismen, you must,” she said with a weird sort of garbled voice.

“What?”

“Holy titan, we haven’t made you watch Star Wars yet!?” Luz slapped her forehead. “I have failed you, young padawan.”

We ended up watching the original Star Wars movie that night. Luz and Camila gave me all the info on release history and prequels and sequels and spinoffs before I saw a single second of any of it, and I assume this is the ideal way to start.

The next day, yesterday, Camila gave me a thick manual on driving and traffic laws. I’ve read it twice now, and I think after a third read I’ll be ready for the test to get my “learner’s permit.” It makes me miss studying for Hexside exams. I’m sure telling Luz and Vee that would get me a barrage of “nerd” comments, but in my defense, I am a nerd.

I’ve ended up alone with my thoughts a lot. When I was sick, it was a lot easier to sleep. I probably got more sleep in the weeks after getting stabbed than I’d ever got before. The nightmares could be brutal. Especially after—well you know. I thought it would get better after what happened in BQ’s forest. That moment when the palismen came to me, that was the closest I’ve come to feeling like maybe you were still with me, in a way. But aside from the occasional dream, I’ve only got memories and photos that are painful to look at.

I told the Bat Queen I didn’t want your sacrifice to go to waste. Now that I’m not actively dying, I have to figure out what to do with the life you gave me. Months ago in this basement, I told Gus that I missed knowing who I was supposed to be. There’s no higher power telling me what my life is supposed to be. No one is giving me orders. I’m just sitting around or getting winded climbing one flight of stairs or lying in my bed wondering if I’m really alive at all.

Eda sent a short note home with Luz.

Hey kid,

I talked to Lily about therapists. Dunno if you still want to go back to Hexside, but I think counseling might be good for you either way. Do you still have a Penstagram scroll? Message me and I’ll send the options Lily gave me. No rush.

Your dishonorary mom, the Owl Lady (@THEOWLLADY)

I avoided reaching out to her for two days. For one, typing on the tiny little scroll is really hard and it takes forever to write anything. For two, the whole “mandatory counseling” thing might be one of the demon realm problems I came here to avoid. 

What is therapy supposed to do anyway? If I need to talk, I can talk to my friends. I could even talk to Eda or Camila. And I have this journal.

But that’s the thing. I thought having a journal would be pointless. But I’m pretty sure it’s the only thing that’s kept me remotely sane in the last couple of months. And the people who said I should do it are people who have been to therapy. And maybe, maybe there’s other good stuff therapy could do.

But what I write about here…there are some things I can’t speak about.

They’ll want me to talk about him, won’t they?

Random strangers have asked me about him. My friends have tried to get me to talk about it; they eventually gave up, but that might just be because I got outed and then stabbed so we had more pressing things to worry about. I freak out every time he gets brought up. So I keep it in here. Well, some of it. There are some things I can’t write about. Things I’d rather forget. Things I’d rather die than have someone else find out. 

You know, they tried to get me to go to therapy back in the fall, right after everything ended. I think there must be something about me that just screams traumatized! Gee, I wonder what it was that tipped them off.

I hated ignoring Eda. But I wasn’t going to message her if it meant putting myself in therapy.

Then I had a conversation with Camila.

It’s Friday, so she came down here after dinner. I haven’t exactly been chatty during treatments, another thing I feel bad about. It’s easy to talk to her about Cosmic Frontier and driving. I like hearing her talk about the weird or cute or funny animals she treats at the clinic. 

But when she’s down here, my mouth goes dry. I can barely speak at all. Sometimes the only words I manage to get out are the thank yous and goodnights. On Tuesday I couldn’t even say that. The harder it is to speak, the louder the phrase use your words, Hunter plays in my mind, and then it’s even harder to speak.

Camila was quiet tonight. As she prepared the vial, I lied on my right side and pulled my shirt up to the bottom of my rib cage. I counted the balusters on the basement stairs, trying to put my focus on something other than my exposed skin and Camila’s gentle touch. I thought she would leave once her part was done, as she has every time besides the first. But like that first time, she stayed seated on the sewing bench.

“Hunter,” she said tentatively. “How have you been feeling here? Is there anything I can do to make it more comfortable for you?”

A wave of guilt washed over me. Had I been acting uncomfortable? Is my anxiety that visible? If there’s one thing I can’t do, it’s hide my emotions. I should’ve known.

Look, I have been doing better since the first weekend. I guess that bar is pretty low, though. I haven’t had another freak out, but there’s all these little thing I don’t realize I’m doing when I’m nervous. Tapping my foot, picking at my nails, pulling at strings or fussing with the hems of my shirts. I used to be able to keep myself from doing all that. Fidgeting wasn’t appropriate for the Golden Guard, the Emperor’s right hand man, etc. etc. Most of it got beaten out of me.

I can’t stop myself from doing it anymore. I apologize when someone else notices, they tell me I don’t have to apologize, I don’t tell them why I feel the need to. I laugh off the guilt and pretend to be a normal person who apologizes a normal amount of times for normal reasons.

“I’m fine,” I managed to tell Camila. Not exactly a lie. I feel fine. Not as good as I thought I would, but not like I would rather die in my sleep than wake up for another day of living in a body that doesn’t belong to me.

“I talked to Eda this afternoon,” Camila said. “She asked to speak with me at the Owl House.”

If I hadn’t been lying there waiting for the serum to be absorbed, I would’ve run from this conversation. But I can’t risk wasting a single drop of the serum, so I was essentially glued to the bed. My mind brought me back to the moment in Principal Bump’s office.

No, no, no—you can’t tell Eda!

My eyes lost focus and went blurry. Camila’s words sounded distant, like a recording played with the volume too low.

She said found a therapist that could meet with you at the Owl House, so you wouldn’t have to worry about traveling in public. I heard it’s been…tense in Bonesburough. And mijo, I know you didn’t want to try counseling before, but it’s been really good for Luz. And for me. I think it could help you, too. We won’t force you, but it may be good for you to start now, while life is a little calmer for you. You don’t have to answer now. We can talk about it later.

I didn’t want to talk about it later.

She left and I found myself lying on the bed, too out of it to get up. I stayed there, tears dripping off the bridge of my nose. Not sure exactly why I started crying. For a moment I felt like I would rather die in my sleep than wake up for another day of living in a body that doesn’t belong to me.

When everyone at Hexside found out that I’m a grimwalker, I was suddenly the most popular guy on Penstagram. I privated my account after people started leaving mean and gross comments under my photos.

does half a witch @hello.willow know her boytoy is a necro? Under a photo of me and Willow taken during Hexside reconstruction.

First a human, now a grimwalker? #GlandusWouldNever Under the “first day of school” photo I took with Luz and the others.

are those SCARS or are grimwankers just UGLY? Under what had been a photo of myself I actually liked. (I’m still hoping “grimwanker” was a typo)

But the one that made me lock my account and shove my Pensta scroll in the depths of my laundry was under my favorite photo that exists. Under the photo taken from Willow’s memory, the one she handed me in the middle of the end of the world, a photo that made me feel something other than anger. You and me. When we won the flyer derby game. The first time I felt alive.

Is that the palisman you ate?

After that, I didn’t bother going through the private messages. I know my friends tried to reach me, especially when I was sick and got suspended, but I couldn’t bring myself to look at any of it. I’d promised Eda I wouldn’t hurt myself, right? That’s all opening that thing would’ve done.

But Penstagram is the easiest way to communicate between realms. Luz uses it all the time. Sometimes she shows me and Vee all the memes and videos sent in the “Hexsquad” group chat. My favorites are the pictures my friends send of their palismen. 

I promised my friends I would have my scroll here anyway. I just didn’t make any promises about using it. Haven’t unrolled it since I got here. Haven’t unrolled it since before I got stabbed. That whole thing really put the pressures of social media into perspective.

But Eda had gone through the trouble of contacting therapists and finding one who would make house calls. The least I could do is give it a shot.

So, after lying in my bed overthinking it for half an hour, I got up and dug the scroll out of my duffel bag. I winced when I saw the dozens of unread direct messages. The most recent ones are from my friends. They’ve all reached out at least once since they went home. Even Willow. Ignoring their messages didn’t feel so bad when they were totally hidden from me. Scrolling past them now sent a pang of guilt down my throat. 

But past the recent messages from friends and friendly acquaintances (I don’t want to know what Matt Tholomule is messaging me about) are the messages that came in post-outing. I didn’t let myself linger long enough to catch a glimpse of whatever was said to me after I got suspended. My friends told me that rumors about the fight were going around, which was probably an understatement.

Going back there…I don’t know if it’s worth it. Human school sounds miserable, but at least no one at Gravesfield High could poison or curse me—I think. Weird that Hexside was once the safest place I could think of to hide. Now the house I fled to go there is the only place on the Boiling Isles that I can stomach just thinking about visiting.

I scrolled all the way down to one of the oldest message threads on my scroll. Nearly a year ago, when Darius first gave it to me, Luz somehow managed to find my account and immediately started harassing me with the Owl Lady’s account. I accidentally sent a photo I was trying to send to Willow. Working that thing with gloves on was a pain in the ass.

I opened the chat and got to work typing out my message. Had to keep it simple.

RULERZREACHF4N: talked  to CAmila .  Therapy?

THEOWLLADY: Finally!

THEOWLLADY: Uh I mean, yippee!

THEOWLLADY: One hour session on Tuesday morning okay?

RULERZREACHF4N: okay ..

THEOWLLADY: I know this is tough, baby. Proud of you ♥

Before I put the scroll away, I went back to that photo. A silly red cardinal curled up in a freshly embroidered white cape. 

I teared up looking at you. See, Flap? I thought to myself, or to you. I’m trying. It’s a step, right? 

Right?

RULERZREACHF4N: thanks

Then it was back in the rocket ship duffel bag. At some point, I might go back and delete all the harassment sent to me. Could be nice to talk to my friends without having to realm hop.

What would you say if you were here?

I wish I knew.

Hunter

It was a dream. It was a dream. That wasn’t real. It wasn’t. It was a dream. Not real. A dream.

He isn’t here. He isn’t here. I’m here. I’m safe. I’m safe. I’m safe. I’m safe. I can’t sleep again. I can’t see that again. What if I see it again?  Can’t sleep. Did I scream? Did they hear me? Why am I so scared!? IT’S NOT REAL IT WAS JUST A DREAM JUST A DREAM JUST A DREAM HE’S GONE

He’s gone.

I promised I wouldn’t I promised. I promised. Can’t break a promise. Can’t disappoint them. Luz. Eda. Camila. Willow. Fuck I hate this. I hate it I hate it I want out! LET ME OUT! I CAN’T KEEP DOING THIS

it was just a dream. i can still hear him. it was just a dream. he’s in my head. just a dream. he’s in my blood. i feel him. i still feel him. why why why why why why

I WANT TO DIE

can’t say that can’t say that fuck fuck. why won’t it stop why can’t i make it stop 

i shouldn’t exist. freak. pervert. killer. corpse. i can’t i can’t i can’t i can’t

shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up

JUST A DREAM

or a memory

i don’t know

everything he did to me

i still feel it

dream it

can’t hurt myself i’m not allowed. no knife no scissors no blood

blood and flesh and rot and stench and i shouldn’t exist

kill me kill me kill me i should’ve just died i should’ve

can’t say that don’t say that you fucking idiot you’re so stupid what’s wrong with you can’t even say his name without throwing up are you gonna throw up??

don’t beg don’t beg don’t make it worse you always make it worse shit i’m so pathetic useless stupid idiot

Chapter Text

Hey Flap,

It’s been a long day.

Woke up from a nightmare at 2:00 in the morning. It was the bad one. Hadn’t had that one for a while. I woke myself up scratching the back of my neck. I felt sick. I tried to write it out and calm myself down, but when this happens, there’s not much that can help.

Eventually, I had no choice but to drag my ass upstairs to the bathroom. This was far from being the first time I’ve had to rush to the bathroom in the middle of the night so I could spend an hour puking. At least the bathroom in Eda’s house was directly across from my room. The stairs are really starting to be a pain in my ass. Not as much a pain in my ass as the cold hard bathroom floor I had to sit on for my hour of puking.

I tried to keep the volume down. The only thing more embarrassing than almost passing out and/or throwing up whenever I get too emotional is someone witnessing it. 

I’m not sure how long I had been in there when Vee knocked on the door.

“Hunter?” she said. “You okay?”

“Yep! I’m—”  I hiccupped in that really gross way that happens after throwing up. “I’m fine!”

“Can I come in?”

“NO.” Okay, wow, way to ease her concern, I thought to myself. “I mean, no?” I said, softer.

“You’re a bad liar, Hunter Noceda.”

Hunter Noceda. I guess Vee went to the Luz school of getting me to come out of the bathroom after exhibiting concerning behavior. “Okay, fine. I’m coming.” I tried to get myself off the floor, but my legs did not cooperate. I sat back against the wall. “Nevermind.”

She slid the door open. At least I had already progressed from throwing up to dry heaving, so most of the evidence of how disgusting I was had been flushed away. Without saying anything, she grabbed a washcloth from under the sink and ran water over it. She slid over to me and curled down.

“Do you mind if I get some of that crust off your face?”

I could’ve done it myself, could’ve asked her to hand me the rag. She knew that too. But I nodded and let her do it for me.

The damp cloth was cold which made me realize how warm my face was. Vee wiped my chin and the corners of my mouth then put the rag on top of the toilet.

“Thanks,” I said. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“Did I wake you up?”

“Basilisks have better hearing than humans,” she answered. “I doubt Luz or Mama heard.”

“Sorry,” I said again. 

“It’s okay,” Vee said again. “Are you feeling better? Do you wanna go back downstairs?”

I shrugged. 

We both sat there in silence for a while. I knew I wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep, but I didn’t want Vee to feel like she needed to stay up with me. There was, however, a question that had been on my mind since that day with Luz in the Owl House.

I cleared my throat, but my voice was still hoarse from the strain. “A couple minutes ago,” I started. “You called me Hunter Noceda?”

“Yeah? That’s your name?”

“Is it?”

“Well, that’s what your new social security card says. Like how mine says Vee Noceda. Do you…want it to be your name?”

Want. “I-I don’t know. I don’t know if…if I deserve it.”

“That’s not what I asked.” Vee looked at me questioningly. “Do you want Noceda to be your last name? Because as far as we’re concerned, you’re family, named or not.”

“You…you see me as family?” 

When we were first stuck in the human realm, Vee was quiet around us. I think she was worried that we would freak out since she’s a basilisk. It was the first week, she and I were at the house alone. I was still too anxious to see any more of the human world outside this house and some of my injuries were taking longer to heal. Well, I wasn’t really letting them heal.

I admit I was nervous around Vee. Actually, it was you who convinced me I should just talk to her and stop avoiding the giraffe in the room. Be friend! You said. Friend likes you! After arguing with you for a while, I went upstairs and found her playing MarioKart in the living room. At the time, I still didn’t really know what video games were, and Luz’s explanations didn’t help because I also didn’t know what “television” or “movies” were.

I sat down on the opposite end of the couch from her.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hey,” I said.

She paused the game and set the controller down. “Have you, you know, been adjusting okay?”

I shrugged. “It’s weird here. The trees, the rain. And there’s all this stuff—” I gestured at the room full of human objects and devices. “It’s sort of confusing.”

“You’ll figure it out,” she said. “I’m sure it’s not more complicated than, you know, being the Golden Guard.”

I winced and started fidgeting with the ends of my gloves. I still hadn’t taken them off around anyone else yet.

“Sorry.” Vee curled her tail up onto the couch. “That was insensitive, wasn’t it?”

I straightened my posture and tried to mask how I felt. “It’s fine. You’re right. I was the Golden Guard.”

“I’m not very good at being ‘tactful,’” she said. “Being the Golden Guard...It was bad, wasn’t it?”

“Yes," I answered flatly. "I did some...things I’m not proud of. It was bad."

“That’s not what I meant.”

I looked over at her. I had a hard time reading anyone’s facial expressions, but especially hers. “Then what do you mean?”

“I mean I’ve picked up on what you guys have been saying. About the Emperor.”

My body froze. Any mention of him did that to me.

“He was more than just the Emperor to you, wasn’t he?”

I had to work up the will to respond; all I managed was a slight nod of my head. More than just the Emperor. I wondered exactly how much of that “more” she’d picked up on.

“He made you do bad things,” she said.

“Mmm,” was the closest I could get to saying yes.

“He hurt you.”

My silence was a louder answer than words.

Vee was quiet for a moment. The end of her tail flicked nervously. Then she said, “Me too.”

I’d thought she might hate me for what I am. She thought the same about me. But after that moment, we had a kind of understanding between us, an understanding the others couldn’t have. The unspoken fact that we were both created against the laws of magic, both hurt and controlled by the same person. The person who created us. 

We didn’t talk about him after that. But throughout our time here, Vee and I had a comfortable sort of friendship. When I had questions about the human realm, I would ask her before I asked Luz. Vee knew how to explain things like video games in a way that made sense to me.  I still occasionally thought she might hate me, but I think that about everyone. Even though I know she doesn’t doesn’t hate me now, I didn’t know she saw me as family, as much of a Noceda as her.

“Of course I do,” Vee said this morning on the bathroom floor. “I always have.”

“Always?”

She nodded. “Since you all came here the first time. It felt like you were, I don’t know, like me. More than the others. More than Luz.”

“How did you know? I mean, how could you tell?”

Vee shrugged as she fidgeted with the end of her tail. “The look in your eyes?”

I raised an eyebrow, certain that wasn’t the real answer.

“No, really. You looked hella traumatized.”

“Hella?”

“Uh, yeah. None of you looked untraumatized, but you seemed especially fucked up." She did not explain what “hella” means. "And you reeked of galdorstone magic. Didn't take me long to realize you weren't exactly a witch. Also you were unbearably awkward in a way I found endearing.”

My cheeks burned. “Okay, awesome. I love to leave a good first impression,” I said sarcastically.

"Luz’s first impression of me was that I had stolen her identity and tricked her mom into thinking I was her daughter.” Vee smirked. “So the bar was pretty low.”

“Fair point.”

“Anyways,” she said, started to get up off the floor. “This has been a great sibling bonding moment, but we should probably go back to bed. Are you feeling okay enough for that?”

I wasn’t sure if I was, and I definitely wasn’t going back to sleep. But I nodded and she helped me up. I waited out the dizziness and brushed my teeth. Vee walked with me to the basement door.

“Love you, bro.” She lightly elbowed me.

“You too, sis.”

My prediction about not sleeping came true. As soon as I got back in bed, the images from my nightmare came flooding back. I got up before I could get frozen there again. Without Vee’s presence, I was getting worked up again. I needed a way to calm myself down without—you know—and without throwing up again. It was 3:30 AM now; I had about 4-5 hours to kill before anyone else would be awake.

First I tried sewing. On a good day, I can get so fixated on sewing that hours will go by without me noticing. This morning, my hands were shaking too much. They usually do after I throw up. After two too many close calls at the machine, I stepped away from all those sharp objects (it’s fine that they’re in here. I’m not going to do anything. I don’t need to tell Camila. Not right now). I tried reading but couldn’t focus on Cosmic Frontier or any of my non-fiction books either. Journaling again would’ve sent me into another spiral.

I lied down on the floor in front of the bed. I counted the ceiling beams. I wished Gus was there. I fought the urge to suck my fingertips. Stop acting like a child, Hunter. I fought the urge to hit myself in the head. Something is wrong with Hunter! I counted the ceiling beams. 

At 6:00, I went upstairs and made coffee. Camila would be up for work soon. She’s always really grateful when I have the coffee ready for her in the morning, so I’m trying to do it more often. It’s not like I’ve been able to sleep past 6:00 this entire time anyway. 

The morning was pretty normal after that. The two cups of coffee I had definitely helped. Vee didn’t mention what had happened early in front of Luz or Camila, but she did give me a pointed look while telling me to drink water (and not just coffee).

I was hoping to spend the rest of the day watching Steven Universe with Vee and Luz, but they had other plans.

“You can totally say no,” Luz started. “But Masha invited us to this 4th of July party tonight, and I think it would be really fun for us to go! You know, a real coming of age high school party.”

“I’m not exactly a party guy, Luz,” I said. “And isn’t today the 3rd?”

“Masha said it’s only gonna be like 10 other people,” Vee said, not answering my question about the date. “Super chill. No big deal. And we don’t have to stay the whole time.”

I looked at both of them, trying to figure out if they were inviting because they felt like they had to or because they actually wanted me to come with them.

“Fine,” I said. “If you really want me to go, I’ll go.”

They squealed in excitement and threw their arms around me. That evening, when Camila got home from work and we told her where we were going, she seemed cautiously excited.

“If you think these are safe people, I trust you. I’m glad you’re making more friends here, Luz.” Then she looked at me. “And it will be good for you all to get out of the house.”

Yeah. Good for me to get out. That’s probably why my sisters wanted me to go so bad.

They tried to convince me to wear something slightly nicer than baggy jeans and my green sweatshirt. I also had my gray Gravesfield High School t-shirt on under it—on the correct way, despite Vee trying to prank me about having it on inside out earlier. 

“I’m just saying, you’re probably gonna get too hot in all that.” Luz gestured at my outfit.

“I thought being hot was a good thing,” I deadpanned.

She scowled. “Not what I meant, hermano.”

I stuck my tongue out at her and she stuck her tongue out at me. We made faces at each other until Luz gave up on getting me to change. The two of them did manage to get me into sneakers instead of Crocs. I don’t really get the big difference, but I guess I trust their fashion judgement. 

We stopped by the portal door to meet Amity before heading to the bus stop. Luz was very excited about attending her first high school party with her girlfriend. 

Amity came through the portal door right on time. She and Luz ran to meet each other, spinning each other around before kissing for just a little longer than comfortable. Luz gushed about Amity’s outfit, which didn’t look much different from other summer outfits I’ve seen her wear but, as we all know, I don’t know shit about clothes. “Stoner at the gas station,” Luz called my fashion sense at one point. After that she had to explain what a “stoner” is. She claimed it wasn’t an insult, but that’s doubtful.

Vee rolled her eyes and cleared her throat. 

“Last bus of the day?” she reminded them.

Luz and Amity blushed. “Sorry!” they said at the same time.

Vee grimaced. “Don’t say—”

“JINX!” they said at the same time, giggling as they hooked their pointer fingers together.

As we walked to the bus stop, Amity handed me a concealment stone enchanted by Edric and Emira to make our ears look round. For a second, I wondered if they could enchant one to hide my scars. But I dismissed the thought. Something about the idea of hiding my scars makes me uneasy.

Now I wish I could’ve asked for that before this stupid party.

I hadn’t been on the bus since the first weekend. The four of us sat in the back row of the mostly empty vehicle as Amity recounted her week at Hexside and her new job at the Museum of Supernatural History.

“Lilith is obviously way cooler now, and Hooty is surprisingly knowledgeable about demonic history,” she said.

“That bird-worm is full of surprises,” Luz said.

“Yeah, surprises.” Amity shuddered as if remembering something less pleasant than a historical discussion, presumable the ‘unspeakable horror’ that preceded her and Luz asking each other out. “That’s one way of putting it.”

“That owl pellet thing was one time.” Luz said. “And it worked out pretty well for us.” She kissed Amity on the cheek.

As we walked from the bus stop to the historical society, my anxiety started to rise. There were a lot of humans in town, more than I’d seen before. A lot of families wearing blue, red, and white. And there were a bunch of kids playing at the park as we walked by, climbing up and going down slides, chasing each other around, excitedly screaming. It stopped me in my tracks. I was a few yards behind when the girls realized I wasn’t right behind them.

“You okay, dude?” Luz asked, her hand clutched in Amity’s.

I nodded. I was fine. Just…curious. What would it feel like, going down a slide? Getting pushed on a swing?

There were parents around the edges of the park, mostly on benches. A few were helping their smaller kids go down slides or were pushing them in the swings. It all looked so nice.  Kids interacting with each other. Parents making sure they were safe.

“Hunter, we gotta go,”  Vee said. “Masha’s waiting.”

I took one last glance at the playground. A little girl was crying; she ran to her mother. The mom gave her something—ice-cream or a popsicle. Some frozen sweet treat. My chest hurt. I turned and caught up with the others. Amity glanced back at me with a knowing expression. I tried to smile in return.

I’ve been hearing about Masha a lot in the last couple of weeks. I know about their job, their car (“a really shitty hatchback,” which wasn’t all that informative since I didn’t know what a “hatchback” was), their collection of questionably witchy artifacts. What I didn’t know is that Masha has been dating Vee since April.  

So, when we approached Masha as they stood next to their really shitty hatchback and Vee greeted them with a kiss, I could not mask my surprise.

“What the fuck.” I said, much louder than I intended to.

All four of them turned and looked at me.

“Oh,” Vee said. “Did I not mention that Masha and I are together?”

“No.” I held my hands up. “No, you did not.”

“Vee and I are dating,” Masha said. “Nice to meet finally meet you, by the way!” They smiled at me, revealing a gap in their teeth. For some reason, this put me a little more at ease.

“Right. It is also nice to meet you.” I smiled in a way that I hoped didn’t look as forced as it felt.

Okay, I thought to myself as we got into the car. This is fine. Vee has a partner. That’s cool. I sat in between Luz and Amity—it wasn’t intentional, but it was nice to have half an hour where they weren’t literally on top of each other. Vee and Masha weren’t overly affectionate. Probably since Masha was driving. They did hold hands a few times.

And I was also there. Beginning to regret agreeing to go to this party. Feeling a little like the odd one out. Wishing I could call Camila to come pick me up.

In hindsight, I definitely should’ve called Camila to come pick me up.

At the tail end of a conversation about how 4th of July is a lame, problematic holiday, Masha parked across the street from a house that was larger than most of the ones in our neighborhood. The five of us walked up, me trailing behind. Masha knocked on the door and it was opened by a tall guy with brown hair and dark skin.

“Ayy, Masha! You made it!” He held up a hand and they high-fived him. “And you brought friends!”

“Friends and my girlfriend,” Masha said, holding Vee’s hand. “You’ve met Vee and Luz before, right?”

“For sure,” the guy said. “But who are the white kids?”

Luz failed to hold back a laugh before introducing us. “This is my girlfriend Amity, and my brother Hunter.”

He squinted at me. “If you’re Luz and Vee’s brother, why are you white?”

A second guy came up behind the first and elbowed him. “Don’t be weird, Dan.” He gave me an apologetic look. “Also,” he spoke to Dan again. “Can you please let these guests in and close the damn door? You’re letting bugs in.”

Dan rolled his eyes and stepped aside so we could walk in. The entry was was dim; multicolored lights shone from the living room beyond. There were people having loud conversations to be heard over music.

“Sorry about that, man,” the second guy said to me as he closed the door. “This may be Daniel’s house, but he’s not the greatest host.”

“Oh. Um. Thanks. It’s okay,” I said. I scratched the back of my neck and glanced at my friends/family. They were walking back to where the party was actually happening. I tried to remember the appropriate way to introduce myself to someone. “I’m Hunter,” I said, sticking out my hand for him to shake.

“Paul,” he said. “Nice to meet ya.” He shook my hand and looked down at it for just a second; I pulled my hand back too fast.

“Sorry,” I said. “I mean, I should go catch up with my friends.”

Paul chuckled. “Okay, Hunter. See you around.”

My cheeks burned as I walked down the hall to find my group. As I turned the corner to the living room, I took in as much visual information as I could. Part of my scout training included rapidly assessing new or unexpected situations. This was certainly new.

The “10 other people” I was promised was more like 30. Great. Music was playing from a large TV. There was a sliding glass door in between the living room and kitchen. People were coming in and out, some of them in swimsuits. Okay, more than 30. Some were in the pool outside. I made a mental note to stay away from that. In the kitchen, I caught a glimpse of various bottles and stacks of plastic red cups.

My friends were standing awkwardly at the entrance.

“Sorry guys,” Masha said. “This is…a few more people than I expected.”

Luz grabbed Amity’s hand. “That’s fine! It’ll be fun! A real high school party. Classic coming of age moment, amiright?”

“Sure it is, batata,” Amity said. “Let’s go have our classic coming of age moment.”

I leaned over to Vee. “How long are we planning on staying?” I whispered.

“A couple of hours? There’s gonna be fireworks around 10:00, but we can bail whenever,” she answered. “I know this isn’t the chill get together we said it would be. Sorry.”

I shrugged. “Whatever. It’s fine.” I could handle a couple hours of this. I didn’t feel like passing out or anything, so I told myself it would be fine.

At first, I stuck close to my friends. None of them seemed particularly interested in this level of socialization, but Masha, Vee, and Luz did know some people from school. I wished I had a phone or a watch to keep an eye on the time. At some point, Luz and Amity headed outside to check out the yard and pool. They said they would be right back, but they ended up getting a little distracted.

“I think we’re gonna go grab some snacks,” Vee said. “You good here?”

I nodded. “Sure, yeah. I’m doing fine.” That wasn’t really a lie. I thought I was doing fine. But once I was alone, sitting on the couch with the conversations and loud music and bright TV screen and color-changing lines of light and the opening and closing back door and the smell of alcohol and body odor and the feeling of my clothes against my skin—I needed out.

The sliding door that led to the backyard was not an option. Just as loud out there, probably. And I didn’t want to get near that swimming pool. Bathroom, I thought. Gotta find a bathroom. I asked a random person on the other side of the couch, and they said they were pretty sure the bathroom was upstairs, first door on the left. I thanked them and rushed up.

Ignoring how winded a single flight of stairs made me, I knocked on the first door on the left. No answer. I opened the door. No bathroom. I’d opened the door of a bed room.

I probably wasn’t supposed to go in. But I didn’t actually need to use the bathroom. I just needed the quiet. And this room was quiet. There was a warm lamp on a desk and otherwise dim. It smelled like one of those vanilla scent things Camila plugs into the wall. I stepped in and closed the door behind me.

Not wanting to disturb any of the furniture (mainly the perfectly made bed in the corner of the room), I sat on the floor in front of the desk and took my sweatshirt off. After taking a few long breaths, I looked up and saw plastic stars stuck to the ceiling, like the ones Luz has above her bunk bed. I counted them. Nineteen stars plus a crescent moon.

I was thinking that I should probably head back down and find my friends, maybe see if they wanted to leave early. Then someone knocked on the door. I got to my feet immediately, ready to apologize. But as the door opened, I got lightheaded and had to brace myself against the desk.

“Hey dude, it’s alright.” It was Paul. He stepped in and closed the door. In a second, he was standing next to me, hand on my back as I waited out the wave of dizziness. “Are you okay?”

I nodded. “Yeah, sorry. I’ll get out of here. Just need a second.” I really just wanted to get my long sleeves back on and get out.

“It’s okay if you want to hang out in here for a while. This is Dan’s room and he’s super chill, as long as we don’t do anything too crazy.”

I wondered what “too crazy” would mean in this context. Then I wished I hadn’t thought about it.

“I think you should sit down,” Paul said. I nodded again, and he helped me to the bed. He took off his shoes and sat down beside me as I focused on breathing.

“Sorry,” I said once I was feeling almost normal. “It was just really loud—”

“Hunter,” he said. I was surprised that he remembered my name. “Seriously. It’s okay.” He smiled at me and I met his eyes.

“Thanks.” My face burned. “I’m not exactly a party guy.”

Paul laughed, louder than reasonable for something that wasn’t funny. “Honestly? Me either. I’m really just here to help my friend out.”

“I’ve never actually been to a party before,” I admitted, unsure why I would tell this random guy that. “It’s, uh, pretty weird.”

He laughed again. “Yeah, it is, isn’t it?”

I forced a chuckle. “Weird and loud."

“Weird and loud,” Paul repeated. “It’s pretty nice to, you know…” He put his hand on my left arm, just above my elbow. “Have a quieter space.”

I tensed at his touch. If he noticed this, it didn’t bother him. I glanced at where my green Portland, Oregon sweatshirt was lying on the ground. 

“You’re pretty mysterious, Hunter. You know that?”

I shook my head, unable to look away from his blue eyes.

Again, he chuckled. “I didn’t know Luz and Vee had any other siblings, especially not a hot older brother.”

“Oh,” I said, my voice sounding like it was coming from somewhere behind me. My head buzzed. Oh shit. He’s flirting with me. Oh fuck.

“Not to be invasive or anything,” Paul continued, his hand rubbing my arm—I wanted to pull away but I couldn’t make myself move. “Quiet new guy shows up to the 4th of July party, he’s got all these cool and mysterious scars? Of course I’ve got questions.”

My stomach turned. “Questions?”

“Yeah.” He leaned in closer to my face.  “Like, how’d you get all those scars?” He put his other hand on my upper thigh. “And what do those pretty lips taste like?”

I jerked my arm away from him and got up from the bed. “I need to go find my friends,” I said.

Paul grabbed my wrist. “C’mon, Hunter. Your friends are fine.”

I looked back at him. I suddenly hated the way he said my name. His face no longer seemed warm or kind. His eyes were cold. Blue. Demanding.

“No, I should really get going,” I said, trying to pull away.

He laughed, another sound I was starting to hate. “What are you so scared of? I’m not going to hurt you.”

I heard a distant explosion go off outside. The fireworks were starting. My head reeled. Bile rose in my throat.

“It’s so loud out there,” Paul said. He stood up and grabbed my other wrist, pulling me closer to him. His face was so close I could feel his breath on my mouth. “Wouldn’t you rather stay in here, Hunter?”

I almost said yes. Just so he would stop talking like that.

“No. No.”  I said, my voice coming out without the strength it needed. Maybe it was pathetic enough to earn his pity. “Please let me go.”

He didn’t let go, but his grip loosened for just a second. In his hesitation, I pulled away and ran for the door. 

I sprinted downstairs for the nearest exit. The sliding door was open; most of the party guests had moved outside to watch the fireworks. I quickly scanned the living room for Luz or Vee or Amity or Masha, but they weren’t there. I ran outside.

The frozen fear I’d felt in the bedroom switched to full panic. I turned in circles looking for my friends. The crowd was nothing but blurred faces. I was so focused on looking for them that I didn’t realize how close I’d gotten to the pool. I didn’t realize until I was falling in.

I heard someone yell my name as my body hit the water.

I was only under there for a few seconds. It felt like minutes. Twisting in the water, trying to remember which way was up, hearing nothing my heartbeat and muffled fireworks. My clothes weighing me down, my chest burning. My hand scraped against the bottom of the pool. I pushed against it, sending myself towards the surface. Air.

“Hunter!” someone yelled. Amity. She crouched on the edge and held out her hand. I reached for it. She took it and pulled me to the edge of the pool. A few people had turned their attention from the fireworks to stare at the weird kid who just almost drowned.

“Are you okay?” Amity asked, helping me to my feet.

I coughed, but I had barely swallowed any water. My nose and ears burned. But otherwise? “I’m okay.”

“We’re going home,” she said.

With her arm around my back, we walked around towards the side of the house. Then I heard a voice I already wanted to forget.

“Hunter, wait up!”

I stopped and turned to face Paul. He was jogging up with my sweatshirt in his hand. Smiling (or smirking) he held it out to me. “You forgot this.” 

My hands, my arms, my whole body was shaking. Partly from the cold, mostly from anger.

“Fuck off,” I said, forcing myself not to yell.

“What the hell, man?” Again, he held out the sweatshirt as if I had no reason to be mad. “I’m trying to help you!”

Those words. I wanted to fight him. To break his nose like I did Zira’s. I wanted to run, to get out of there as soon as possible.

But if Amity hadn’t been there, I would’ve stayed frozen. Probably would’ve passed out. In the corner of my eye, I saw her draw a tiny spell circle. The ground underneath Paul’s feet turned to mud and he sunk down to his ankles. Amity grabbed my hand and we ran to the car.

Masha, Vee, and Luz were already there. We climbed in the backseat and Masha peeled away from the curb. I sat in the middle again. Luz put her arms around me. I hugged her back. Her breaths were rapid and shaky. I tried to slow my own breaths down, hoping it would help calm her down.

“Are you okay?” I asked. “Did something happen?”

Luz pulled back and wiped her nose. “You’re the one who’s soaking wet and you’re asking me?”

“I’m fine. What happened with you guys?”

Amity reached over for Luz’s hand. “Do you want me to tell him?”

Luz nodded.

“Luz and I were outside, literally just talking and holding hands, and these jerks came over and started harassing us,” Amity said. “They were being weird about the fact that we’re gay and they said some mean stuff about Luz. Then one of them used this really awful word and Luz…”

“I panicked,” Luz whispered. “Then Vee and Masha found us and I sort of calmed down and we decided to leave…”

“But we couldn’t find you,” Amity finished. “I was coming back inside to look for you, but I didn’t see you until you were falling.”

“Shit,” I said. “If you hadn’t been there…”

“It’s okay now,” she said. “But…what happened with you? Before the pool?”

I shook my head. I don’t think I could’ve talked about it if I tried. “Some other time,” I said. 

“Human parties suck,” Amity said.

“Agreed,” said Vee and Luz at the same time.

When we reached the house, Masha apologized for how shit the party turned out to be,

“It’s not your fault,” Luz said. “Fourth of July is a stupid holiday anyway.”

“It may actually be cursed,” Masha agreed. “I’m still sorry, though.”

The four of us went inside. Camila was watching a nature documentary in the living room. She stood up and started to ask us how the party was until she saw the state we were in. Luz, who had been crying on and off the entire ride. Me, still damp. Vee stayed behind to talk to Camila while the rest of us went to change clothes.

It had all happened so fast.

I needed to scrub the chemical pool water from my skin. I showered with the lights off, my head spinning as I tried to process what happened. The look on Paul’s face when he grabbed me, disturbingly familiar. The words he said, even worse.

After drying off and putting on my pyjama pants and a soft t-shirt, I stared at myself in the bathroom mirror. Why did he look at me like that? Why did he touch me like that? All I saw was a frail, scarred body, hollow and tired eyes. When the nausea returned, I turned out the lights and went to Vee and Luz’s room. They and Amity had all changed into sweats and pyjamas.

I leaned in the doorway. “Are you all okay?” 

“I think we’re doing alright now,” Vee said.

Luz gave one thumbs-up.

“Are you okay, Hunter?” Amity asked. She was the only one who had any idea that something happened with Paul. Just like she was the only one who had any idea of what I’d seen in the Titan’s head. I hate that my mind connected the two events.

I avoided her gaze. “I’m gonna be fine,” I said. “I just need to sleep this night off.”

“Do you want to stay in here tonight?” Vee asked.

I thought about what happened back when Luz was staying over at the Owl House. Waking up screaming and clawing at myself. Scaring Luz. “I don’t think so,” I told Vee. “But thank you. All of you.”

I’ve been sitting up in my room since then. I’ve been awake for nearly 24 hours. Like I said. Long day. I’m so tired. I don’t want to sleep. I don’t want to dream. I know I can’t avoid it forever. Maybe I should just get it over with.

I know I’m safe here. I’m safe in this room, in this house.

I’m just not sure if I’m safe with my own mind.

Hunter

Chapter Text

Dear Flapjack,

I think driving is my favorite thing in the human realm.

After (not to brag) acing the written exam, I got my learner’s permit. Then Camila took me to a huge ugly field of concrete to practice driving for the first time. She was very impressed by how quickly I was able to understand the controls of the vehicle.

“Maravilloso!” she said. “Good job, baby!”

The praise made me feel somewhat confident for the first time since—well, you know when.

Since then, we’ve been practicing most days after she gets off work. Sometimes she seems pretty tired, but she always insists that we get as much practice in as possible. Luz and Vee both got part-time jobs in town, so sometimes me and Camila get to go pick them up. Something about pulling up in front of the thrift store (for Vee) or the historical society (for Luz) and honking the horn when they’re already walking to the car really makes me feel like a big brother.

Considering how nervous I get riding in the car or especially on the bus, I was worried that driving would be even worse. But I don’t feel nearly as scared when I’m behind the wheel. Honestly, the freakiest part is having to watch all those driver’s ed videos. I’m not sure I needed to see a graphic reenactment of a horrific accident to understand that driving while inebriated is a bad idea.

I’ve been trying to figure out why I like it so much. I think it’s because when I’m driving, I don’t feel weak. 

It’s not about the fact that I’m steering “a metal death-machine that weighs thousands of pounds” (exact quote from my most recent driver’s ed module). It’s not even that it’ll help me be more useful to Camila. Part of it is how sick I’ve been—and I really thought that would be better by now. I used to wake up and do an hour of pull-ups and push-ups before going to scout training. Now I wake up and brace myself on walls and furniture just to get around the house.

But when I get in the car, I feel steady. The more I do it, the more comfortable I feel. And it’s pretty nice to spend time with Camila. I still feel a little awkward, but she’s really good at teaching (way better than those videos). Whenever I get nervous about getting on a bigger road, she tells me that, even if it’s hard and scary the first time, the more that I do it, the easier it’ll be. And she’s always right. It gets easier.

Well, driving on the highway gets easier.

Eda and Camila successfully got me to start therapy. I’ve been three times. And it’s fine. The therapist, Beatrice, she’s fine. It’s very nice that she’s going through the trouble of meeting at the Owl House. She’s very nice.

It’s just that whenever she asks me anything— How are you doing, Hunter? What do you want to talk about today, Hunter? What made you decide to try counseling, Hunter? —my brain shuts down. Mouth goes dry. Muscles get tense. I sit on that couch listening to a clock and the sound of my heartbeat. An hour goes by in what feels like half the time, then I go home and wait until Camila and I can go get Luz and Vee from their jobs.

And I’m fine. You know, all things considered. I’m leaving the house on a regular basis—wait, is that why Camila has been so insistent on getting driving practice in? On the days I spend some time home alone, I find ways to occupy my time. Cleaning, sewing, re-reading Cosmic Frontier, re-watching episodes of the cartoon shows I’ve been watching with Vee and Luz because I keep forgetting stuff that happens and it seemed to freak them out when I told them that.

The days go by fast.

Well, not fast. Not exactly.

It’s like, I’ll sit down to practice sewing. A few minutes will go by, then I’ll check the time and see that it’s actually been nearly an hour. I guess I just sort of zone out or get distracted. 

I’ve been trying to write, but every time I sit down with my journal and pen, I start to feel the way I do when I’m sitting across from Beatrice, all tense and blurry. I just don’t know what to say anymore.

But today…

I’m pretty sure it was today.

Time feels wrong.

It’s happening again. See? Can’t think right.

I’m trying.

I am trying.

I don’t understand. I don’t

You see, the usual plan changed. Camila had an appointment to get her haircut around the time Luz was getting off work. She said I should go ahead and come with her and then wait for Luz to get done and then the two of us could hang until after the hair thing was over.

So we parked at the hair place and I walked to the historical society. That’s where Luz is working. Masha got her the job.  So I walked to the historical society to wait for Luz.

It was fine. I wasn’t feeling fatigued or dizzy. Camila made sure I was fine before I walked over there. I was fine. 

When I went inside, Luz was sitting on the floor putting some water-filled glass orbs on a shelf. She waved as I walked in, almost dropping one of the balls.

“Sorry!” I winced.

“No problem, bro.” She held the orb up by its red base. There was a miniature town in the water, along with a bunch of white and silver glitter floating around. Luz placed it in the row of matching orbs then looked at her empty wrist as if there was a watch there. “It’s not 6:00 yet, is it?”

I shook my head. “Mom—uh, Camila is at the hair place, so I came up here early.”

Luz smiled in that smugly excited way she does. “Did you just call her ‘mom?’”

“What? No! Unless, I mean, am I supposed to?”

“You don’t have to, but of course you can!” She nudged me with her elbow. “You’re her son now, right? So it would make sense.”

“Oh.” I felt myself start to smile. “Yeah, I guess so. Maybe…maybe I’ll try it out.”

Luz flattened the cardboard box and picked up a clipboard. “Good,” she said. “You know, since you’re here and you have some free time…do you think you could go get me an iced coffee from Robin’s?”

“Wow,” I said. “I came all the way over here just for you to send me away?”

“You can get something too!” She looked up at me with what Camila has dubbed her ‘sad little puppy eyes.’

“Ugh, fine.”

She gave me a quick hug. “Best brother ever!” Then she grabbed her little shoulder bag from behind the counter and handed it to me. “Medium iced caramel latte.”

“Can you write that down?” Considering my recent memory issues, I didn’t trust myself to retain that information for the 7 minutes it would take me to walk to Robin’s.

“I’ll text it to you.”

A couple weeks ago when Luz got a new phone, I got her old one. I only use it to text or call the other Nocedas. Anything beyond that is a little overwhelming. Honestly, even that it a little overwhelming.

As I headed out the door, Luz texted me the order.

From: Luzer Nerdceda
medium caramel iced latte
W OAT MILK
pls dont poison me <3

The walk to Robin’s took me past that park. As has been the case every time I’ve passed it during the day, there were plenty of families with kids. But this time, there was this one little girl. I heard her crying. Screaming. Screaming. She sounded hurt or scared.

I shouldn’t have looked. I should’ve just walked away.

I didn’t see whatever it was that made her upset. There were plenty of options—skinned knee, mean kids, ripped overalls. Whatever it was made her run to one of the adults standing around the edge of the play area. The adult, he was in the middle of a conversation when the little girl ran up and tugged at his pant leg. I tensed up. I didn’t understand most of what she was saying, but I did hear her call him dad.

At first, the dad tried to wave her away. But she kept trying to get his attention. Finally, he turned towards her in a sharp motion. I flinched at the same time she did. But he didn’t hit her. He said something that made her stop screaming. Now, instead of hurt or upset, she seemed scared. Still crying. She put her thumb in her mouth, tears still running down her face as she held on to her dad’s pant leg.

She started to say something again; I think she wanted to go home. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand away from her mouth, leaning down to get close to her face.

Enough of that pathetic sobbing! You’re humiliating yourself—And you’re humiliating me.

It wasn’t the voice of the little girl’s dad that I heard; I didn’t hear him at all.

Do you think this is an appropriate way to behave? No?

“I’m sorry,” I heard myself whisper. “I’m sorry.”

Say it properly, Hunter. Or are you not truly remorseful?

“I repent to the Titan,” I said under my breath. Words I hadn’t recited in almost a year. “F-For disgracing the life I have been given. I have been disobedient to his commands and offer nothing but—” I cut myself off. 

When I snapped out of it, the little girl and her dad were gone. As if they’d never been there. I checked the time on my phone; 10 minutes had passed since Luz texted me.

Swallowing back a wave of nausea, I walked to Robin’s as fast as I could. I just wanted to get in there, get coffee, and forget about whatever did or did not happen at the playground. As I stepped in, I once again checked Luz’s order. Iced caramel latte. Medium. Oat milk. I repeated it under my breath, head ducked as I pulled her duck-print wallet out of the bag.

Then I looked up

and say Paul behind the counter.

What the fuck what the fuck what

Paul gave me the default, “What can I get for you?”

The wallet fell out of my hand. I bent over to grab it and straightened up too quick. My head rushed. Fuck fuck fuck not now. I braced against the counter, ears ringing as white spots covered my vision.

“You alright, man?” Paul asked. “It’s Hunter, right?”

I backed away from the counter and reached for the table behind me. This isn’t happening this can’t be happening this can’t happen

“S-S-Sorry.” I was hyperventilating. Don’t pass out don’t pass out. I turned and gripped the table with both hands.

“I think you should sit down,” Paul said. He was walking around to the other side of the counter.

Run run run! everything in me screamed. But I couldn’t run. I squeezed my eyes shut. Just a dream. Just gotta wake up. Just a dream.

But it wasn’t. Not this time.

Paul put his hand on my arm. I inhaled sharp but couldn’t move.

“You really should sit down,” he said, almost laughing. He pulled one of the chairs to me.

It was either the chair Paul was offering or the floor.

My whole body was shaking. I sat down.

“There ya go,” he said gently. “Try to breathe, Hunter.”

The sound of my name coming out of his mouth felt like a hand around my spine. He touched my shoulder, his fingertips brushing against the scar tissue on the back of my neck. And I couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. I definitely couldn’t breathe, Hunter.

“Do you need to call someone? Should I grab my manager or something?”

I shook my head. Breathe, Hunter. “F-Fine. M’fine,” I forced the word out. He can’t do anything. We’re in public. He can’t do anything.

“Does this happen to you a lot or do I just have that effect?” Paul said, laughing.

Just breathe and get out of here. He can’t do anything. We’re in public. We’re in public. I looked down at my hand and tried to line up my breathing with the raising and lowering of my fingers. My breath whistled on the exhale. Breathe and get out. Breathe and get out. I started to get up; Paul held me there.

“Give it a second, Hunter,” he said. “Hold on.”

Hold still now, Hunter.

“Have to go,” I managed to say, starting to get up again. This time, Paul let me. But he didn’t let go. He took hold of both my arms at the biceps. The pressure stung.

“I just want to make sure you’re okay,” Paul said, his voice low as he held me there. I felt his breath against my eyelashes. He put one hand under my chin and tipped my face up.  “Hey, man. Look at me.”

I looked. I met his eyes. Cold, blue. 

That’s right. Don’t move until I tell you to, Hunter.

He’s taller than me by several inches. A few months ago, I would’ve been confident in my ability to take this guy in a fight. Now?

We’re in pubic. He can’t do anything.

“I’m fine,” I said flatly, unable to move my gaze away. “I have to go.”

He just stood there and looked at me, his expression unreadable.

“Please.” My voice broke.

He brushed his thumb across my cheekbone. His eyes flicked down before meeting mine again. For a second, I thought he was going to 

“Okay, if you really think you’re okay…” He took a step back but left one hand on my arm. “Just let me give you my phone number so I can make sure you get home safe.”

“I don’t—”

He picked Luz’s old phone— my phone—off the floor. The screen was still unlocked and before he swiped to the new message screen, I saw that Luz had texted me several more times. With one hand, Paul typed his number in and then texted my name to himself. He held the phone out to me.

“Okay, thanks.” I grabbed it from him and headed straight for the door. He said something as I walked out. I didn’t stop. Back to Luz. Back to Luz. I broke into a run towards the historical society. My chest burned. I sprinted as far as I could until I nearly collapsed. I sat on the nearest bench and held my head down.

I told you to keep yourself pure, Hunter.

I hit my the back of my head.

This might not have happened had you listened to me.

Another hit. “Stop it,” I said.

That does not sound like remorse to me.

“No. No no no.” I hit my head, grabbed my hair.

You’re only making this more difficult for yourself, nephew. I’ll give you one more chance.

“Okay, okay.” I clenched my hands. “I-I repent to the Titan for disgracing the life I have been given. I have been disobedient to his commands and can offer nothing but remorse…” I swallowed hard. “...That I may receive the grace of his righteous discipline.”

Again.

I scratched at a scar in the palm of my left hand. “I repent to the Titan for disgracing the life I have been given. I have been disobedient to his commands and offer nothing but remorse that I-I may receive the–the grace of his righteous discipline.”

Did I tell you to stop?

My skin broke. Again, I recited the prayer. I wished I had something more efficient than my fingernails. 

I don’t know how long I sat there repeating penance. I can’t remember. When Luz found me, it was darker outside than when I’d been walking to Robin’s. 

“Hunter!” She was jogging towards me.

 “Are you—” She came to a halt, looked down at my bleeding hand. “What happened?”

I covered my palm and shook my head.

She sat beside me. “Hunter. What happened? Why are you doing that?”

I couldn’t answer.

“Please tell me what’s going on.”

I couldn’t. Not then. Not there.

“Hunter, I’m scared.”

I put my wrist over my mouth. My face was wet. I’d been crying. 

Luz reached out and took my bleeding hand. “We’re going home,” she said. “I’m gonna take you home.”

I nodded. I let her help me up, leaned against her as we walked to find Camila at the hair place. Luz kept glancing at me. I kept my eyes on the sidewalk.

I guess Camila drove us home. When we got there, there was a bright orange band-aid on my hand. I remember sitting down in front of a bowl of leftover pasta. I couldn’t eat. Luz, Camila, and Vee all gave me concerned looks as they ate their own dinners.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Paul’s eyes. Or his eyes. Cold. Blue. Leering down at me. 

I managed two bites of pasta. After however much time, I got up without saying anything and headed for the basement.

“Hunter, hold on!” Luz called after me. I stopped and leaned in the entryway; not like I keep her from following me anyway. I heard Camila say something to her in Spanish that was too quiet for me to pick up. 

I came downstairs; Luz followed. I laid face down on my bed and pretended she wasn’t there.

“I’m getting really fucking worried about you,” she said.

“I’m fine,” I said, voice muffled by my pillow.

She sat down on the end of the bed. “Dude, that’s the first thing you’ve said since you abandoned me at the HisSoc.”

“Whose sock?”

“Historical society.” I could hear her roll her eyes. “And that’s not important! Look, you don’t have to tell me exactly what’s going on, but I found you crying and bleeding and muttering to yourself on a random bench after you disappeared without responding to any of my texts, and you’ve said literally nothing since then. So no, I don’t think you’re fucking fine.”

I curled into a ball on my side and looked up at her. “Sorry,” I whispered.

She hugged her knees to her chest. “I just want you to be safe.”

“Sorry.”

“You seemed okay when you first got there,” she continued. “I wouldn’t’ve asked you to get coffee if I knew you were feeling bad.”

“I was okay,” I said. And I really had been okay. I mean, as okay as I ever am these days.

“Hunter, did something happen?”

“...”

“I don’t just mean today. You’ve been acting weird for weeks.”

“Have I?”

She sniffled. “I mean, you already seemed pretty depressed when you first got here, but for the last few weeks you’ve been really spacey and like, I don’t know, something seems really off.” 

I tightened in on myself.

“It’s like, most of the time you’re normal. Well, not normal. Normal for you. Goofy and funny and sad and sweet. You sing in the car when you pick us up from work. And you’ve been sewing a lot! But sometimes…it’s like you’re on another planet. Like you can’t really hear us or see what’s in front of you.”

She paused like maybe she was waiting for me to respond, but then she continued, her voice softer. “I knew it might not be totally easy for you to be here. It hasn’t exactly been easy for me. I sort of thought maybe we could help each other.” She sighed. “But all month, ever since that party, something has felt off. And I’m worried.”

She was quiet for a long time after that. My mind burned trying not to think about what happened—today or at the party. I just wanted it to go away, to stop. Just wanted to forget and go on like nothing happened. Didn’t want anything to have happened at all.

I glanced up at her again. She sat with her chin on her knees, facing towards me and looking at the string of colored lights behind me. Her eyes were watering. 

I remembered that one morning at the Owl House, when I woke up screaming and scratching my neck. She’d tried to grab my hands and I literally pushed her away. 

But she didn’t leave. She didn’t get scared. She’d understood. 

Slowly, I sat up and faced her.

“Yeah,” I said. “Something did happen.”

“Okay,” she said. “Can you tell me?”

I wrapped my arms around my knees as if that would hold me together. My body was shaking, worse as I put the words together in my head. My voice came out tight and quiet, but the words felt loud in the quiet of the basement.

“At that party,” I started. “I got really like, overwhelmed by all the noise and people and everything. You guys were all outside. I just wanted a little bit of quiet. So, I went upstairs looking for the bathroom.” My throat clenched around the promise I’d made to myself not to tell anyone. “And there was this guy. He followed me up there.”

“Paul?”

I raised an eyebrow. “How did you…?”

“After you went to bed, Amity told us he tried to talk to you when y’all were leaving,” Luz clarified. “She said you got freaked out and that you told him to fuck off. But she wasn’t sure why.”

“Oh. Yeah. Um.” I’d almost forgotten about the last ‘conversation’ I’d had with him. “Well, upstairs. He, you know, he followed me into this room. I thought it was a bathroom but it was actually a bedroom.” I swallowed. “I shouldn’t have gone in, but it was really nice and quiet and I felt like I could breathe and then—then he came in there.” My face warmed to the ends of my ears. “At first he was…he was being.”

I took a second to catch my breath, wishing my body would quit shaking so much. I didn’t know how much I should say, how much detail I needed to go into so she would get it. I shifted, crossing and uncrossing my legs. 

“W-We sat down on the bed, and he started—he said all this weird stuff. And he looked at me weird and I-I didn’t understand until he…he grabbed my arm—” I squeezed my hand around my left elbow, pressed my thumb into that spot just above it. “—and he tried to…to… A-And then I just ran and there were fireworks and the pool and—”

I was hyperventilating, rocking back and forth. I couldn’t finish the story. I didn’t tell it right.

“Hunter…” Luz spoke slowly. “What did he try to do to you?”

I shook my head and put my face in my hands. I hated this feeling. I hated remembering. I’ve spent so long working to forget this stuff. This feeling. I hate it. I shut my eyes and saw Paul sitting with me on that bed, rubbing my arm, grabbing my thigh. I felt his breath on my face, his fingers on the back of my neck.

“Hunter?”

“I don’t KNOW!” I yelled. I didn’t mean to yell.  I pulled at my hair. “Shit. Shit. I-I’m sorry, Luz—I-I don’t—I don’t know.”

“Hey, hey, hey. You’re okay.” She slowly put her hands over mine and drew them away from my head; I let her. “I’m so sorry, Hunter.”

Words she’s said to me before. Luz has always been one of the only people I usually feel comfortable being touched by. The first person to hear my name—my real name—and the person who gave me my last name. 

I was still scared, still shaking and burning, but I let her sit beside me and put her arm around my shoulders.

“So,” she said. “Is that why, today, you were—”

“He works at Robin’s,” I said. “Paul. He was there.” He was there and I almost passed out. He was there and I was terrified. He was there but we were in public. He was there but he couldn’t do anything to me. He was there and he touched me. He touched me. He touched me and I couldn’t move. “It freaked me out so I just left and I guess I had a panic attack. On the bench. Where you found me.”

Luz seemed confused for a second. “Oh, shit. Fuck. I’m so sorry,” she said again.

“But, yeah, generally,” I said, moving along. “That’s, uh, that’s why I’ve been acting like that, I think. I keep, like, forgetting stuff.” I was desperate to change the subject. “Conversations, dates, whole episodes of Steven Universe.”

“Wait,” Luz said. “That’s why you didn’t remember Peridot calling Yellow Diamond a clod?”

The other day I made Vee and Luz pause and go back a few episodes so I could watch that scene since I couldn’t remember the episode even though we’d watched it a day before.

“What do you mean you don’t remember the redemption arc slur?” Vee had demanded. “It’s literally iconic!”

I laughed a little. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure I normally would’ve remembered something like that.”

“That’s so—Wait.” Luz frowned. “That sounds really serious actually.”

“Yeah, I rewatched it and Peridot did seem pretty freaked out—”

“Not the show, smartass.” She rolled her eyes. “The fact that you’re forgetting shit?”

“Right. That.”

“Has that happened to you before this? Have you told your therapist?”

I didn’t and don’t want to think about when this happened before. “No, I haven’t told Beatrice. At least, I don’t think I have. Maybe I forgot?” I said, knowing I’d said exactly nothing to Beatrice.

“Dude, quit joking around.”

“Womp womp,” I said.

“Now is not the time to ‘womp womp,’ Hunter Noceda.”

I stuck my tongue out at her. She maintained a serious expression.

“Ugh, fine,” I said, looking away. “Yeah, it’s happened before. Didn’t tell my therapist. Seriously.”

“When did it happen before? When did it stop happening?”

“Sometimes it would happen when I was younger. Don’t know why or why it stopped.” That was only mostly a lie. I needed her to stop asking that.

“You should probably tell your therapist,” Luz said.

“Why? Not like therapy has helped so far.”

“Maybe therapy would help if you actually talked to your therapist?”

“What makes you think I don’t talk to her?”

“Uh, you told me you don’t talk to her!”

“Did I?” I genuinely didn’t remember. “Ha ha. Guess I forgot I said that.”

“Ha fucking ha.” She sat back and crossed her arms. “One more serious question, then I swear we’re done.”

I was certainly ready to be done. “Which is?”

She took a deep breath, looked me in the eyes, and once again asked the question that started this conversation.  “Hunter,” she started. “Are you safe?”

That knocked the humor out of me.

The truest answer came to mind immediately.

Mostly because I’ve been afraid of being asked this directly.

I clutched my hands together, resisting the urge to grab my arm. 

My ears rang.

My eyes burned.

No, I thought.

“I…I’m not sure,” I said.

Luz’s exhale was shaky. “Okay. Okay. I think we should talk to mama. Not about everything, if you don’t want to. But to make sure you’re safe. Because you’re family. So you have to be safe.”

I thought back to the first time Camila helped me with my treatment. That Eda had told Camila how worried she’d been about me. How Willow had been worried about me. 

I don’t like it when people worry about me.

I didn’t like how worried Luz looked sitting beside me. 

Then I thought about what Eda told me when I got suspended from Hexside.

“I’ve already hurt other people. What’s one more?” I’d said.

To which she answered, “‘One more’ is a kid I care about who is clearly in a lot of pain, physical or otherwise, who doesn’t need to put themself through any more pain just because someone told them they deserved to be punished for their mistakes. So, at least for today, can you promise me you won’t do anything to hurt yourself?”

Then I thought about the razor hidden under this mattress.

I couldn’t look at Luz anymore. Still, I said, “Okay. We can talk to mom.”

Luz helped me up, but I got so dizzy when I stood that we decided we should talk to Camila down here. She came down like she’d been expecting us to ask. Luz did most of the talking, not going into much detail but saying enough to get the point across. I told her I didn’t really want to hurt myself but that the memory blackouts are scaring me.

I agreed to schedule an extra session with my therapist. Luz suggested that I sleep in her and Vee’s room, but I was feeling worse by the end of the conversation and carrying anything up those stairs felt too risky. So instead, Luz is sleeping down here on the couch. 

Camila asked if we needed to take anything out of my room. I said she could take the sewing stuff, that I could just use it in the living room and not by myself for now.

I guess that tomorrow we’ll figure out what to do next.

Before heading upstairs, Camila asked if she could give me a hug. I accepted.

“Thank you for your honesty, cariño,” she said. “It takes a lot of courage to ask for help.”

A wave of guilt held me back from responding.

Luz fell asleep a while ago now. I’m mostly writing to distract myself. Since she’s here, I can’t do the thing I’m not supposed to do. I’d have to move the mattress and tear off paper towels and open band-aids. That’s why she’s here. So I can’t do any of that.

But it’s one of those nights.

My mind is still racing. Writing helped. I can probably sleep.

It’ll be fine. I just have to write until I can’t stay awake. 

I hate sleeping.

I didn’t want to ask for help. I’m not supposed to need help.

There’s no reason to feel guilty. That’s what they said. That I have nothing to be sorry about. That they just care about my safety.

My skin isn’t going to fall off in my sleep.

I’m supposed to handle myself. I’m supposed to be able to keep it together and not bother other people. I’m not supposed to behave like this.

It would be better if I could just forget about it. Nothing actually happened. He didn’t actually do anything. I ran away.

I’ve been getting that dream almost every night.

that one.

But it’s different now.

The setting changes. Now sometimes it’s Paul instead.

or it’s both of them.

it doesn’t matter what room it’s in.

usually ends with my flesh turning to rot and mud

or with me drowning

i wish i would wake up screaming or scratching

but most times

i can’t move

like He’s holding me down

it’s only going to be worse now

i wish i could forget

i wish i could just die

i wish flapjack had just let me die

why would i want to live after that ?

can’t kill myself now. too many people to disappoint

probably couldn’t do it if i tried

hasn’t worked before.

flapjack always made sure of that.

hunter stay. hunter stay. hunter stay.

sorry. i’ll try to sleep. i can’t kill myself. i broke the other promise but not that one. 

not that one

hunter

Chapter Text

Dear Flapjack,

I’m pretty sure talking to my therapist has only made things worse.

I sat across from her two days after that conversation with Luz, hands sweating, more anxious than I’d been in the other sessions. Maybe because I actually planned on saying something this time. We’d been sitting there for a few silent minutes before she cleared her throat and said,

“Your moms told me you’ve been having issues with your memory.”

The brightly lit room in the Owl House (one I’m not sure existed before these sessions started) had seemed inviting the first time I was here. At least, I understood that warm lighting and soft furniture are meant to feel inviting. I’d felt more awkward than usual, trying to figure out which sofa I was supposed to sit on and what I was supposed to tell her. It’s not that I didn’t want to talk. I mean, I didn’t, but mainly, I had no clue where to start.

Now we had a starting point.

Eda came to see us yesterday. Camila had suggested it since I’d had similar conversations with Eda before. It was strange seeing her in the kitchen when Luz and I came upstairs in the morning. Partially because it was strange for Eda to be awake that early. Mostly because until that moment, I’d been able to split my life into two halves in two different realms. Seeing Eda and Camila chatting and drinking coffee at that table made my head spin.

“Blondie!” Eda grinned and got up as soon as she saw me in the doorway. She opened her arms, offering a hug, and I accepted. “Good to see ya, kiddo,” she said.

“You too, Eda.” I meant that. I sort of wanted to cry. Hadn’t realized how much I missed her. How much I needed her.

She ruffled my hair then turned to hug Luz. “Eh, I saw you last week,” she said. “You’re probably getting sick of me.”

“I’ll never get sick of you, Eda the Owl Lady,” Luz said.

The four of us sat down at the kitchen table. I managed to tell Eda a bit of what had been going on. She mentioned that she’d seen me “get all spaced out” before, but not often and mostly when I had been sick. She asked if we needed to talk to the Bat Queen about adjusting my treatment serum, but I said I was pretty sure this was different than the brain fog I’d had when I was sick.

Eda asked if I knew why it was happening. I think I said that something bad happened a few weeks ago. Then she asked if I’d felt like this before, and I spaced out and didn’t answer. Apparently I was like that for a few minutes. The next thing I remember is Camila patting my shoulder and asking for help with breakfast. I still felt weird afterwards, like there was hollow space in my mind.

I knew that Eda and Camila had talked to Beatrice about what’s been happening. It still caught me off guard when Beatrice mentioned that. And when she called Eda and Camila my ‘moms.’

Beatrice asked me to explain it in my own words—the memory thing. Not the other stuff. I did my best; it was somewhat easier to describe since I’d talked to Luz and written about it. I still worried if what I said made any sense. My voice sounded weird to me.

“And this started after a negative experience at a holiday party?” Beatrice briefly glanced at her notes. “Can you tell me about that?”

I almost wished I’d brought this journal so I could just show her what I wrote when it happened, but the idea of anyone seeing anything I’ve written here makes me nauseous. So I tried to remember in the moment. I didn’t shake as bad as I had when I told Luz, but to be fair I’d just had a whole panic attack before talking to Luz that night.

My voice hitched and failed in the same place it had when I told Luz.

“We were sitting there, on the bed, and I didn’t really know what was going on.” I sat on the edge of the sofa, leaning onto my knees, fidgeting with the gloves I was wearing to keep from scratching myself. “He—Paul, he put his hand on my arm and he was saying weird stuff to me a-and he tried—he tried to—to—” I couldn’t finish. I didn’t know how. “And I tried to leave, but he grabbed me and kept trying—but I ran and it was fine and we went home and it was fine.” 

“It doesn’t really seem fine,” Beatrice said. “It seems like it’s really upsetting to you.”

I shrugged as if I could pretend this wasn’t affecting me.

“Hunter,” my therapist said carefully. “What was it that Paul tried to do?”

“Doesn’t matter,” I said.

“I think it does matter, Hunter.” She set her notes to the side and leaned forward a bit. “It sounds like this was traumatizing for you, especially if it’s caused you to dissociate so frequently.”

“Dissociate?”

“I think that is what’s been causing you to ‘space out’ and forget things,” she said. “Dissociation can be a symptom of post-traumatic stress disorder. And there are other ways of experiencing it. Sometimes it makes it feel like you’re in a dream, or like the people around you aren’t real. Sometimes it makes you feel like you aren’t real, or like you don’t recognize yourself in the mirror.”

“Those are…symptoms?” I stared at the floor. “It’s not normal?”

“I wouldn’t say it’s ‘not normal,’ but most folks don’t experience it, no. Do you?”

“Well, yeah.”

“How so? Aside from the memory blackouts. Can you describe it in your own words?”

I pursed my lips and thought through the kinds of dissociation she’d mentioned. “S-Sometimes, I can’t figure out if I’m dreaming or not and I have to…do something to prove I’m awake. And I-I feel really weird when I see my reflection or pictures of myself.” Even as I talked about it, I felt the disconnect start to happen, my voice becoming strange and distant. “Sometimes, when I talk, it doesn’t feel like I’m talking. Like I’m just sitting inside my head, listening.”

“Is all this usually activated by something in particular? Certain people, places, phrases?”

“Not sure. Haven’t really noticed. I thought it was normal.”

“Hunter.” Beatrice spoke softly. “Can you tell me what Paul tried to do at that party?”

I felt like I was shrinking, evaporating. I could almost feel Paul’s breath on my face. Wouldn’t you rather stay in here?

“I don’t know.” His hand on my arm. My shoulder. My thigh. “I don’t know.”

“To me, it sounds like he might have been trying to sexually assault you, Hunter.”

I shook my head, my ears ringing. 

What did he try to do to you? Luz’s voice. 

What are you so scared of? Paul’s.

“Where’d you go, Hunter? You still with me?” Beatrice’s.

Remember, Hunter: I am doing this to help you. All I do is to help you. His. 

“Can you hear me?” 

Are you even listening to me, child!?

I flinched and nodded slightly.

“Can you tell me where you are? Where we are?” Can you tell me what Paul tried to do to you?

I tried to catch my breath. “O-Office,” I whispered. “Therapy office.”

“That’s right,” Beatrice said. “Can you open your eyes?”

I hadn’t realized I’d closed them. As I opened them, the room was so bright I wanted to squeeze them shut again. Beatrice made a spell circle and the lights dimmed. I don’t know if I said something about it before she did that.

“What color is the couch you’re sitting on?”

“Uh, brown?”

“Yep. What does it feel like?”

I pulled my hands away from my head and pressed them against the fabric. “Soft. Sorta bumpy like corduroy.”

“Do you remember my name?”

For some reason, that question reminded me of the night I got stabbed. Afterwards, when Steve found me in the castle and kept asking questions to keep me awake and alert.

“...Beatrice,” I answered.

“Mhmm, yep. What color is your shirt?”

I felt my breathing slow to a more normal pace. I touched the sleeve of my color-block sweatshirt. “Yellow—” I grabbed at the fabric over my chest “—and blue.”

“You back with me?”

I nodded. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Can you remember what we were talking about?”

“I think so.” I ran my gloved fingers through my hair. “Dissociation? Trauma?”

“That’s right. And we talked about what happened at that party last month.”

My skin burned. “You said you…you think he…he tried to…”

“I don’t want to make assumptions,” Beatrice said. “But based off what you told me—the way he touched and spoke to you, the fact that he refused to let you go—that’s what it sounds like.”

I thought back to those moments in the bedroom. The way he looked at me. The implications of what he said. The vague knowledge of what people do in bedrooms at parties. The way my body reacted when he grabbed my arm, worse when he grabbed my thigh.

The last time I’d felt that was on the worst night of my life. Before that…

Then there’s the nightmares.

The nightmares I’ve had since the party.

How confusing they are.

The way I wake up still feeling his hands.

The sound of his voice.

Getting louder every day.

I put my hand against my mouth and chewed at the fabric of my glove. I thought about the shaving razor still hidden under my mattress.

“I saw him again,” I said. “Paul. At the coffee shop. He works there. I almost passed out.”

“You almost passed out?” Beatrice asked.

I scoffed at myself. “It’s stupid, I know. Not like he could’ve done anything.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, we were in public. He didn’t—he couldn’t—” I bit my glove. “We were in public.”

“Did he try to make advances on you again?”

“Make advances? Like in a fight or—?”

“Like sexual advances.”

“NO—I-I mean, we were in public.” I shook my head repeatedly. “We were in public so he—he couldn’t—I didn’t—”

“Did he say anything to you?”

I want to make sure you’re okay. Hold on, Hunter. I think you should sit down.

“H-He made me sit down. He was trying to make sure I wouldn’t pass out.” 

“So he talked to you? Did he touch you?”

I was still shaking my head. Again, I felt his fingers on the back of my neck, his thumb grazing my cheek. “He w-wouldn’t let me leave. B-But he didn’t—we were in public.”

“You keep saying that. That you were in public.”

“We were. There were other people there.”

“And if there hadn’t been?”

If there hadn’t been other people there. If he had gotten me alone again. 

My stomach turned. I covered my mouth.

“Okay. Okay. M-Maybe…maybe it was… it was…sexual.” My voice dropped below a whisper. Shame and nausea constricted my throat.  “B-But it wasn’t assault. Because I left. Both times. And maybe he thought, since I stayed in the bedroom, and since I sat down on the bed with him—”

“None of that means you were consenting to physical or sexual contact. You said you thought he was being nice, right?” She shook her head. “And he made suggestive comments and touched you, even after you said no and tried to leave?”

I stared at the floor, at the twisting pattern in the rug.

“It wasn’t your fault, Hunter,” Beatrice said. “You didn’t do anything wrong. And I’m glad you were able to get out of there before he did anything more.”

I swallowed. The last month of nightmares threatened to come up with this morning’s breakfast.

“It makes sense that you’ve been struggling more since that happened. You’ve already been through so much, just in the last few months. I know we haven’t talked much about your past, but based on what I do know, you’ve experienced a lot of trauma.”

“That’s what everyone tells me,” I murmured.

“We’re almost out of time, but I want to make sure you’re safe before I send you home, okay?”

I shrugged.

“Have you hurt yourself since you scratched your hand the other day?”

I looked at her face for the first time since the beginning of the session. “They told you about that?”

Beatrice nodded slowly. “Camila and Eda let me know, yes. You’re not in trouble. We just want to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

“No,” I said. I was irritated. I shouldn’t have been. I’m not sure why I was. “I mean, I haven’t done anything since then.” That was technically true.

“Can you keep that up until I see you again in a couple days?”

“Yeah, I think so.” That was potentially true.

“Your moms—Eda and Camila—they care about you a lot. They want to support you.” Beatrice stood up and stepped towards the door. “Your therapy homework is to let them help you.”

“Therapy has homework?” I said as I stood up, bracing myself on the arm of the sofa.

She chuckled. “Sometimes. But you don’t get graded in therapy.”

“You sure I don’t get a good grade today?” I asked, only half joking. “I actually talked this time.”

“I am proud of you for that. That took a lot of courage.”

I just shrugged, but to be honest, the small bit of affirmation meant a lot, even if it was coming from someone I barely knew. Kind of scraping the bottom of the barrel here. Might be a little pathetic for that.

Before I left, Beatrice gave me a pamphlet about PTSD and said it might be a good idea for me to journal. I didn’t have the energy to tell her I’ve filled two journals since the start of this year, but I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to hear about it.

I felt okay on the way out. Well, I felt numb. Eda and Stringbean (who was very excited when Luz and I asked if she wanted to come with me) were waiting in the living room. Eda asked how it went and I shrugged and said, “pretty good,” which was the most positive reaction I’d ever given to that question. Stringbean settled on my shoulder, purring. Eda asked if I wanted to hang out at the Owl House for a while, but being in the demon realm that long still freaks me out.

Back home, I was too drained to talk much. Luz, the only one there, asked how it went; I gave her the same answer I gave Eda. Then I said I was pretty exhausted and was gonna go down and take a nap.

“You sure that’s a good idea?” she asked. She looked worried. “I don’t know if you should be alone right now.”

I shrugged.

“I can come hang out down there with you.”

Another shrug.

She got the Switch and came downstairs with me. She played video games on the couch; I curled up on my bed and fell asleep.

I don’t fully remember what I dreamed. Flashes of blue or green lights, the sound of my name. But that feeling is what stuck with me.

Luz wasn’t on the couch any more. I could hear her voice, muffled from upstairs, along with Camila’s.

It was the first time I’d been alone down here. It was nearly time for dinner, based on what I could hear of the conversation above me, so I only had a second before one of them came to get me.

I needed that feeling to stop.

I took off a glove and put my hand up my sleeve, picking at the partially healed scab above my left elbow. I picked it until it was raw—painful, but not enough to bleed—and then pressed my fingernails into where the cut had been. Not enough to bleed.

Whatever. I just had to get through dinner. Less than an hour of eating and questions and concerned glances. It shouldn’t be hard.

Luz knocked and then opened the door. “Dinner’s ready!” she said. “You awake?”

I yanked my hand out of my sleeve. “Yep!” I called. “I’ll be there in a second!”

The door closed. I inspected my fingers for signs of what I’d done. There wasn’t any blood on my hands, but there were black flecks under my nails. The scab hadn’t been that dark when I checked it in the bathroom that morning. I put my glove back on and decided to worry about that later.

I was tense during dinner. More than usual. I flinched every time there was an unexpected noise—Stringbean knocking something over in the living room, the timer on the oven, the sound of my name. Whenever I flinched, at least one of the others would notice and give me the you okay? glance. 

The feeling hadn’t stopped.

My scars started to hurt. That feeling of my skin being torn.

I excused myself to the bathroom. Not to hurt myself or because I needed to throw up. I just had to make sure my skin was on right. Had to make sure my eyes were mine.

The mirror in the bathroom is so small. I checked my face for signs of rot first. I reached for the back of my neck, turning at a painful angle trying to look at it. The twist of my arms and back sent a sharp pain down my left side. Before I could overthink that, there was a knock on the door.

“You okay, bro?” Vee asked.

How long have I been in here? “I’m fine,” I said. “Just had to use the bathroom?”

“Are you barfing your guts out again?”

“No.” I kept looking at my face in the mirror, running my bare hands over my skin.

“Hunter, what’s going on?”

Panic tightened my chest. “Just give me a minute!” I pulled my sweatshirt off to check my arms and sides.

“It’s already been 10,” Vee said.

My heart pounded in my ears. I expected pull up the hem of my t-shirt and see my scars the way they normally look. I expected to see the light teal lines spiraling out from the site of my stab wound.

But the lines weren’t teal anymore. They were dark green and black. Veins twisting around my chest, up my shoulders.

I was vaguely aware of Vee saying my name and pounding on the door. My head spun, my knees gave out from under me. No no no no no. My stomach turned. I was sweating. I crawled to the toilet and lifted the seat. My guts lurched and I retched into the bowl. 

Thick sludge. Black and green. 

I’m dreaming I’m dreaming I’m dreaming

But I knew that I wasn’t. 

I told you to keep yourself pure. His voice flooded my head. Now look at what you’ve done.

I threw up again.

Vee was beside me now, calling for mom. 

All you need is family, and I’m right here.

No. I know. I felt vomit run down my chin as I kept dry heaving, my vision clouded by white spots.

Do you not trust me, Hunter? Do you not love me?

Of course I do!  My mind responded involuntarily. More than anything!

Then, the last thing I remember before I lost consciousness—

Then hold still now. That’s right. Don’t move until I tell you to.

Hunter

Chapter Text

Dear Flapjack,

I’m so confused.

I don’t understand why this is happening.

I don’t understand how this is happening.

How I keep getting worse.

I wasn’t even supposed to make it this far. Part of me always knew that, even before I found out what I am.

He always told me I wouldn’t make it “out there.” A powerless witch in a bloodthirsty world. As long as I listened and obeyed him, I would be safe. He told me I was safe.

The worst part is that I believed him.

When I came to on the bathroom floor, Vee and Camila were standing over me. I panicked and pushed myself further into the corner, covering my face. There was dry vomit on my face, still acrid in my nose. My vision was blurry. The entire left side of my body was in piercing pain. 

I heard Camila asking questions but couldn’t process anything she was saying.

I thought she was mad.

I cowered in the corner. Waiting. Waiting for her to hit me, to drag me out and throw me down the basement stairs.

I’m such an idiot.

It took her a second to realize how scared I was. Her tone softened and she crouched in front of me.

“Hey, baby. It’s okay. Estás bien.”  

I was shaking, curled in the corner as tight as possible. I looked at her through my overgrown hair. She held her hand out to me and I flinched. She kept it slightly outstretched, palm up.

“I’m not gonna hurt you, baby. Can you take some deep breaths? What’s that thing you kids do?” She held up her other hand and slowly inhaled as she put up one finger at a time. I trained my eyes on the lowering and raising, trying to synchronize my breaths to the motion. Eventually, I reached out and took her outstretched hand.

She helped me to my feet. My legs gave out again and I fell against her. She put her arm around my back and supported my weight. I’m taller than her, but I felt so so small.

She half-carried me to the living room and sat me down on the couch. I once again curled up, back pressed into the corner. She asked Luz to get a damp rag and a glass of water. Moments later, a warm rag was pressed against my face, wiping my chin and my nose and the corners of my mouth.

“Have you been feeling sick again?” Camila asked.

I shook my head. Not more than usual, not until I saw it in the mirror.

“Can I take a look at your side? You might need an extra does of the serum.”

Hands trembling, I shifted and pulled the hem of my shirt to the base of my ribcage. My skin was cold and damp. Camila turned on her phone flashlight to get a better look.

“The scarring looks a bit darker than normal,” she said. “Not by much, though.”

I twisted my neck to see what she was talking about because the scarring was a lot darker than normal. An entirely different color, actually. In my position, I could barely see any of it, but I did see some of the teal lines wrapping around my torso. Teal. The way it’s looked for weeks.

That can’t be right. I know what I saw.

“We’re gonna do your treatment a little early, esta bien?” 

I shrugged or nodded. It was hard to move my head.

In the 30 seconds it took for her to go downstairs and come back with the serum, my mind started spiraling again. Everything felt hazy and wrong. She came back in and helped me shift onto my side. I watched her clean my skin, barely feeling the cold alcohol wipe. I watched the focused expression on her face as one, two, three drops fell onto my skin.

“There you go, mijo,” she said. “How much pain are you in right now? Scale of 1-10. You can use your hands if you don’t feel like talking.”

I thought for a second. If “10” equaled the worst pain I’ve ever been in, this was maybe a 7. I held up 6 fingers.

“Do you want ibuprofen? Pain elixir?” 

Pain relieving elixirs were not something I was allowed in the coven. He told me the lessons wouldn’t be effective if I couldn’t feel them. 

I shrugged. Camila gave me a pointed look. I nodded.

Camila left for a second before coming back with a bottle of ibuprofen and a vial of elixir. She said I should probably only use one at a time, and I picked the elixir. She gave me a small dose, saying I could have more later if I needed it. It tasted worse than I remembered, and it burned my already raw throat.

Luz brought my blanket, my pillow, and Snow from downstairs. I gave a weak smile of thanks and she gave a thumbs up in return.

My head was getting heavy. The pain was subsiding. I wanted to thank Camila, but speech felt impossible. After getting me settled under the blanket, she kissed the top of my head. It sent a buzz down my body—or maybe that was just the elixir.

Luz and Camila exchanged a few words. English or Spanish didn’t matter. I couldn’t understand anything as the elixir took over and the world around me faded away.

In the dream, I wasn’t in this house.

I was in that room at the party.

But it was strange. Distorted. There were glow-in-the-dark stars covering the entire ceiling. The walls were covered in photos I couldn’t focus on to see. I’m alone. Wearing my pyjamas. No shoes, no socks. It’s quiet. I am sitting on the bed. 

Waiting.

I look up. The stars on the ceiling are moving in slow circles.

Waiting.

The door opened.

Waiting.

Paul walks in.

I woke up in the middle of the night. The living room was illuminated by the streetlamps outside. My body was sore but the pain wasn’t nearly as excruciating as it had been earlier. Stringbean was curled up, sleeping by my feet. I guessed that Luz had asked her to keep an eye on me. 

I wasn’t exactly keen on continuing that nightmare, and I was also dehydrated from throwing up, I decided to get a glass of water. Simple enough. The kitchen is right by the living room. No stairs involved.

As I started to get up, Stringbean woke up, blinking her big purple eyes at me. She hissed something I couldn’t understand and then flew over to me, nudging my face with her head. When she realized I had no idea what she was trying to tell me, she rolled her eyes at me and then shifted to her staff form. My best guess was that she was trying to help me walk. Not a bad idea. So, I held onto her as I stood up. My head spun a little, but leaning on Stringbean kept me a little more stable.

I walked to the kitchen slowly.

Hunter?

I turned around at the faint sound of my name, thinking one of the others had come down to check on me. But the room was empty. The house was quiet. I told myself it was just my imagination. Wouldn’t be the first time.

Hunter…

It was definitely his voice that time, which meant it was definitely just my imagination or an elixir-induced hallucination. Probably should’ve just gone back to sleep. But I was already in the kitchen, already getting my plastic cup. I heard my name again. Nope, I thought. Quit being so paranoid.

I turned on the faucet and started filling the cup, still leaning on Stringbean.

H u n t e r . . .

It was louder, clearer that time. His voice was coming from behind me. I glanced up at the window behind the sink.

And see glowing blue eyes reflected from behind me.

I hear him laugh. My body freezes, still holding the cup.

“In the future, I would appreciate it if you would respond when I call your name, Hunter.”

He’s not here. This isn’t real.

I feel him looming behind me. I hear his heavy breathing. I don’t turn around. My cup overflows.

He’s not here. I know that. I know that. I know

He puts his hand on my right shoulder. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you, Hunter.”  

I feel his breath against the tips of my ears. Water runs over my hand.

“You know I’ve been worried sick about you.” He speaks softly as his finger tips press into the skin beneath my collarbone.

You’re dead! This is a dream! I want to scream. The water is cold. 

I glance up at the window again. It’s not just his eyes reflected now. I see his face, gently smiling.

“I’m so relieved that you’re alright, nephew. It’s been so long.” He slides his hand from my shoulder to my face and then tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “And,” he says, leaning close enough for me to see his hair in my peripheral vision. “I see you haven’t come back empty handed this time.”

And before I can process what he’s said, he snatches Stringbean out of my hand. 

I drop the cup and reel around, reaching for the staff. But he grabs me by the throat. He holds me against the counter. His hand nearly wraps all the way around my neck.

He forces me to look at him. His eyes are glowing, the muddy rot of his scar melts down his face like candle wax. His breath smells like blood and smoke.

Behind him is the Nocedas’ kitchen. I can still hear the faucet behind me.

This can’t be happening.

His hand tightens around my throat. I can’t breathe. My ears start ringing, my vision blurs at the edges.

Stringbean flies off her staff and dives at the hand wrapped around my neck. She sinks her fangs into his hand, but his only reaction is to tighten his grip on me. He grabs her with his other hand.

No.

“It seems, Hunter, that you’re the one who needs this palisman soul, hmm?”

My uncle holds my best friend’s palisman over my face and squeezes. Stringbean whimpers in pain. 

NO! I won’t watch you do this again! With the last of my strength, as my vision goes white and all I can hear is my weak heartbeat, I reach out for Stringbean.

He drops us both. Gasping for air, I land on my knees and catch Stringbean as she falls from his hand.

“Oh well.” He looks down at me, emotionless. “It’s only a matter of time, Hunter. But you already knew that.”

Then he melts, vanishes into the floor. Gone.

Not real not real can’t be real I’m dreaming I’m crazy 

Stringbean whimpers in my hand. I look down at her

and see green blood leaking through a crack in her body.

No no no no no.

It’s a small crack. She isn’t broken. But it’s deep enough to make her bleed.

My stomach lurches. I can smell the blood. Like dirt and smoke. My mouth waters.

“Luz!” I try to shout. The sound barely comes out. I bang my elbow against the cabinet behind me, trying to make enough noise to get someone to come in here.

I can’t stand up. The elixir has worn off and pain radiates from the stab wound and from my neck. I can’t take a full breath. Stringbean’s blood glows, the only source of light inside this room. I can’t see anything else. 

Again, I elbow the cabinet door.

Moments later, Luz is there. “Hunter, are you—Oh my god!” She turned the kitchen light on. 

I shut my eyes against the sudden brightness and held Stringbean out to Luz.

“What happened?” She was beside me now, taking Stringbean out of my hand.

“I-I—sorry,” I said, my voice rasping, barely coming out at all. “I-I-I didn’t—I don’t…I don’t…”

I couldn’t form a full sentence. 

“Are you okay, Stringbean?” Luz asked her palisman. Stringbean made a weak almost meowing sound in response. “I know it hurts, little buddy,” Luz said. “But you’re gonna be okay.”

I slowly opened my eyes and looked at them. I didn’t know what to tell her. I didn’t know if I could physically speak enough to tell her. 

“Bat Queen,” I whispered. “She needs Bat Queen.” I glanced down at the hairline crack glowing green on Stringbean’s back. The room still felt so bright. My head throbbed. “Right now.”

“Kind of looks like you do, too.”

I shook my head. “Can’t. Can’t go that far.”

“I’ll get Eda and she can carry you.” 

I averted my gaze from Stringbean and held my hands against my chest. “Later. I’ll be okay.”

“That seems…not true,” Luz said.

“I…I can’t go with you and Stringbean. Please, trust me, Luz.” Because I can’t trust myself.  

She stared at me for a long moment before saying,  “...Fine. I’ll go get mama. You wait here.”

As she left the room with Stringbean, I felt my mind burning. What just happened what just happened what— In the moments between Luz leaving and coming back with Camila, I tried to convince myself that it wasn’t real. I hear his voice all the time, I see him in dreams.

But that wasn’t a dream.

The pain wrapping around my neck was real. Stringbean’s injury was real.

Camila and Luz appeared. As soon as she saw me, Camila was at my side. Luz was still trying to explain what was going on even though she didn’t actually know. Camila asked me some questions— Did you hit your head? Can you speak? Can you move?

I shook my head no at each question.

She picked me up and carried me to the living room. I was in too much shock to resist or react at all.

“Luz, text me as soon as you’re with Eda,” Camila said. “And ten cuidado, mija.”

“Of course, mama.” Luz hugged her, and I saw that she was now carrying Stringbean in a sock. Then she sprinted out the front door.

I was lying on my right side on the couch. After making sure I was okay with it, she lifted my shirt to look at my side. I think she said it looked okay, that I should get some sleep. I didn’t have much of a choice. 

Camila pulled the blanket up to my shoulders and handed my wolf plush to me.

As she turned to leave, I reached out and took her hand. “Mama,” I said. “Am I dreaming?”

I wanted her to say yes. Then I would wake up for real. This would never have happened. I could forget all of it.

“No, baby. You’re not dreaming.” She squeezed my hand. “Try to get some sleep now, okay? We’ll figure this out in the morning.”

I was pretty sure it was technically morning already. I didn’t have the energy to say that, though. I had no choice but to fall asleep, hoping and praying that the Bat Queen could fix Stringbean, unsure if whatever waited in my dreams would be better or worse than what I’d just experienced.

I am in the room at the party. Stars spin above me.

The door opens. Paul walks in. 

He locks the door behind him. 

What did he try to do to you?

He sits down beside me. He grabs my arms.

I’m on my back. I am being held down.

He kisses me and my face goes numb.

Has this happened to you before?

“Hold still now, Hunter,” Paul says. 

I cannot respond. I can only lie there.

Paul lies on top of me.

Did he touch you?

I don’t know. The stars are on fire.

He’s lying on top of me.

I don’t understand why this is happening.

What did he do to you?

His hand is on my throat.

My body is numb.

“That’s right. Don’t move until I tell you to.” 

What did he do to you?

I don’t know why this is happening.

The walls are on fire.

I am inhaling smoke.

What did he do to you?

My body is numb.

He is lying on top of me.

I cannot respond.

What did Belos do to you?

I don’t understand why this is happening.

My body is numb.

The room is on fire.

Hunter, are you safe?

I don’t know.

I don’t know.

I don’t

know.

Chapter Text

Dear Flapjack,

I’ve been thinking about death since long before I met you.

On the morning I went back to see the Bat Queen, I woke up with bruises on my neck. More proof that I hadn’t entirely imagined everything that happened the night before.

I put on a shirt with a high neckline and put a hoodie on over that. I didn't overthink the decision to cover my neck; it's habit for me to cover damaged skin. Considering everything that's been going on with me, I doubt that anyone's first assumption would be that I had been physically attacked by a dead man. The bruises were evidence that something had happened, but not getting choked by a ghost.

No. If they had seen those bruises, they would think I put them there. And it's not like they'd be crazy to think that. After all, it wouldn't be the first time I gave myself bruises there.

Sometimes I wonder what would’ve happened if you hadn’t found me that night. At the time, I think part of me knew that you would, that you would come back. Most of me just really, really wanted to be dead.

In some ways, it was impulsive. I didn’t decide to try it until you said you were going off to find food. I figured that was your way of letting me down easy and that you were gonna go find a real witch to be with. A stupid assumption to make about you of all palismen. But my brain was sort of falling apart. My life was ruined. I had nowhere to go. He would find me eventually. He would find me and then kill me in the most painful way he could think of. 

Did you know they used to hang suspected witches in the human realm? I read about it in that stupid “Witch Hunters of Gravesfield” book. Almost laughed at the irony.

I was barely conscious when you came back, but I was aware enough to hear you. I’d never heard you so scared before. Chirping at me as you pecked at the rope. Hopping around in front of my face as I gasped for air. Hunter scary! Scare Flapjack! You nibbled my hair. Can’t leave. Hunter stay. Hunter stay.

As I lied on that floor, struggling to breathe, I was mad at you.

Not for long, of course. How could I stay mad at you?

And I wasn’t actually angry. I mean, I was sort of always angry. But mostly I was scared. 

After sitting up and having some Hexmix, I started thinking a little more clearly. Clearly enough to realize you weren’t going to leave me. And if I had just one little bird with me, I wasn’t completely alone.

Flapjack love Hunter.

“Love you too, Flap,” I said.

Hunter not breathing, scare Flapjack. Your eyes looked so sad.

“I won’t do that again.”

Make promise?? No more rope??

“No more rope,” I said. “I promise. Hunter stay.”

Aside from those days at Hexside, I didn’t hurt myself as much when you were with me. The first time you saw me try, you yanked on my hair until I agreed to put the knife away. 

I’m not sure if I said it then but... I’m sorry, Flap. For the rope. For the knives.

And I swear it wasn’t me this time.

The bruises on my neck now, they go further around than my hand would be able to reach. So it couldn’t have been me.

It also couldn’t have been him.

After showering and then brushing my teeth three times, I went downstairs to change for my first real trip back to the Boiling Isles. Part of me wanted to forego the visit to the Bat Queen. I was standing on my own and managed to have an entire piece of toast without puking so I totally didn't need her help any more.

But when I checked it in the mirror, the vein-like lines twisting from my left side were dark—not as bad at the night before, but darker than they should’ve been. Camila said they looked normal. She was still worried, though, so we met Luz and Eda at the portal door.

“He’s gonna be fine, Mama C,” Eda reassured Camila. “Just gotta work out the kinks in that serum. Normal potion tweaking.”

As our two moms discussed the plan, Luz caught me up on what happened after she left the house.

“Stringbean is okay,” she said. “Honestly the hardest part was getting Eda out of bed—I had to threaten her with the Hooty wake-up call to get her up.”

Threatening the Hotty wake-up call is the most surefire way to get an Owl House resident out of bed. No one wants to find out what it actually entails.

“BQ wasn’t exactly thrilled when we interrupted book time with her babies—did you know they actually eat the pages? I have so many questions, like how did she—”

“Luz,” I said. “Focus.”

“Right, right. Bat Queen. Stringbean. She’s gonna be fine. BQ has healed palismen in way worse shape before, so don’t get all guilt-ridden on me. I told her I didn’t know what happened, which I technically don’t, but she’ll definitely need you to explain—”

“It wasn’t me,” I interrupted. “I mean, I didn’t hurt Bean.”

Luz looked at me, skeptical. “Hey, I know it was an accident. You’d never hurt her on purpose.”

“No, Luz.” I wasn’t prepared to explain what I’d experienced in the night, but I needed her to know it wasn’t me who hurt her palisman. “I really didn’t—”

“Okay, kids.” Eda put a hand on my shoulder and a prosthetic hook hand on Luz’s. “We don’t wanna keep the old Bat waiting.”

Luz gave me a look that, if I didn’t know better, I would’ve read as pity. She didn’t believe me.

But the Bat Queen would. She would read my mind and know that I was telling the truth.

On the other side of the door, Eda went harpy so she could carry me. Before shifting into a staff for Luz, Owlbert hooted happily at me and sat on my head for a second.

“Good to see you too, buddy,” I told him. I would’ve given him a little scratch on that spot he likes but, well, there was a part of me as doubtful of my innocence as Luz was of my sanity.

The Bat Queen’s nest didn’t feel as intimidating as the first time I was there. Sure, the sound of crunching bones wasn’t exactly comforting, but I wasn’t nearly as close to being those bones as last time. As we approached BQ’s platform, a few palismen I recognized flew or crawled over to me. They didn’t touch me, but they trailed close behind, making their little sounds at me that I couldn't understand.

“Grimwalker,” Bat Queen said from between fire geysers. I flinched—it had been awhile since I’d heard that word. “Owl Lady says sickness is back. Is true?”

“Yes, Bat Queen. It’s true.” My hands were shaking. “The palistrom serum has helped a lot, and I am so grateful for your help, but I’m worried it might be getting bad again.”

“Will see what Bat Queen can do,” Bat Queen said.

“Thank you,” I said. “I-I was also hoping to see how Stringbean is doing?”

BQ narrowed her eyes at me. “Stringbean hurt bad.”

“But she’ll be okay, right?” Luz interjected.

“Will be fine, yes.” BQ stepped to the side, revealing a pedestal holding a sleeping Stringbean in a blue orb. “After some time has passed.” She looked at me again. “You know how this happened, Grimwalker?”

“Yes. A-At least, I think so.” I took as deep a breath as I could before telling her. “Something really weird happened last night. And I know that this sounds crazy, and maybe I am, but Stringbean…shegothurtbyEmperorBelos.” I got the last part out of my mouth as quickly as possible.

My words were met with silence. I hadn’t realized how much noise was happening in the woods around us until it all stopped. No palismen chirping or meowing or chittering. My ears started ringing. I felt every eye in the clearing looking at me.

“Hunter…” Luz whispered. “What are you talking about?”

I turned to face her. “He was in the kitchen. Last night. I don’t know how. But he was there.”

“Look kid, it’s not that I don’t believe you,” Eda said. “But I’m sure there’s another explanation for whatever it was you saw.”

“We saw him die, Hunter. He’s really super extra dead.”

I wished I could believe that.

“It’s okay.” Luz reached a hand out to me. “If you hurt Stringbean on accident—”

I stepped back from her. “I-It wasn’t me. Please. I-I wouldn’t just make that up.”

“I’m sure you didn’t make anything up,” Eda said. “Camila said you had some of that pain relieving elixir last night, right? That stuff can really fuck with your head.”

“You think I was hallucinating.”

“Well, yeah, probably,” Luz said.

Now I was getting light-headed, my ears still ringing. My voice faltered and stuttered as I tried to explain. “No—It wasn’t—I know it wasn’t just a hallucination. I-I mean, just-just look!” I pulled down the collar of my shirt. “He hurt me too! See? I’m not lying!”

They kept looking at me like I was crazy.

“What? Do you think I made those bruises?”

No answer.

“Well!?”

Luz gave me that pitying look again. “...What bruises, Hunter?” 

I gripped my collar and tilted my chin up so she could see. “Those bruises. The ones all over my throat?”

“Kid," Eda reached out for me. "There're no bruises there."

Anger burned my face. Don't get mad, I told myself. You'll only make it worse. 

I backed away and turned to the Bat Queen. “You know I’m not lying, right? Can’t you read my mind or something?”

She glared at down at me wordlessly. Then her eyes glowed yellow. My body stiffened the way it did the first time she read my thoughts. But instead of the odd feeling of her looking through my head, I just felt burning.

Bat Queen flinched. “Mind is clouded. Cannot see truth or lie.”

“WHAT?” My heart pounded in my ears. “I-I’m telling the truth!”

“I’m sure that’s what you saw, blondie, but—”

“Ask Stringbean!” I yelled at BQ, ignoring Eda. “She was there! I know she saw him too!”

“Hunter.” Eda put her hand on my shoulder. “We can figure out what all happened later, okay? Let’s focus on getting you better again.”

I pushed her hand away and met her eyes. I had the urge to keep yelling, but my voice was small and broken. "Eda," I said. "I-I really thought you would believe me."

You of all people. The only one who has come close to understanding.

Her eyebrows furrowed. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “You’re just…Talking like that, you’re worrying me, kid.”

I swallowed my anger. “Fine,” I said. “Let’s just focus on me getting better.” 

I turned towards BQ and kneeled. “I apologize for my disrespect. You can do with me whatever you see fit.”

Before she could respond, Owlbert flew over and landed in front of me. He hooted at BQ, who seemed to listen intently. Then she looked at me again.

“Palismen call you friend, Grimwalker. I cannot see your mind, but they believe your heart to be true.” 

At least someone believed me.

“Will keep working to heal the sickness, yi yi,” she continued. “Sickness may not purely be of the body. I sense trouble in mind.”

That’s one way of putting it.

BQ turned and spoke to Eda. “Should increase use of palistrom sap. And find way to soothe his mind, yi yi?”

“Yi yi, BQ.” Eda saluted. “Extra treatments and we’ll definitely be working on that mind stuff.”

Mind stuff. Like convincing me I was just hallucinating last night.

I was relieved that Bat Queen once again didn’t kill me. But that relief didn’t stave off the anger.

My body was shaking as we walked back to the open woods. Despite the weakness in my muscles, I strode ahead of Eda and Luz, clenching and unclenching my fists.

“Hey,” Eda said. “You did good back there, kiddo. You’re under a lot of stress and—”

I turned on her. “Do not fucking bullshit me, Eda. I know you all think I’m broken and insane because I’m so fucking traumatized, right? I see the way everyone looks at me! You think I don’t know?” I pulled my fingers through my hair. “I know I’m the sick fuck-up who can’t get a fucking grip! And now I’m even crazier, right? Imagining my dead uncle strangling me in the middle of the night?” I laughed, which definitely didn’t make me seem any less insane. “I wish I was making that up. But I know what I saw. What I felt.” I put my hand on my throat.

Luz stepped toward me. “Hunter, don’t—”

“And I know that it’s impossible.” I put both shaking hands up to prove I wasn’t hurting myself. “I’m not stupid enough to not understand that.”

“No one thinks you’re stupid, Hunter,” Luz said. “Or crazy.”

I shook my head and turned, practically falling against the nearest tree as my breaths heaved. Don’t cry don’t cry don’t fucking cry right now.

“I don’t think you’re lying,” she said, keeping her distance. “But Belos can’t hurt you anymore. He’s gone.”

Hot tears pricked my eyes. I turned my face so she couldn’t see them. I wish that was true, I thought but couldn’t say out loud. I wiped my face with my sleeve. “Let’s just get out of here.”

I spent the flight home trying to think of how I could prove it. Mostly to myself. When we got back to the house, I only wanted to go down to the basement and black out for a few hours. But I had to look at it again. I could feel the bruises just fine. I stared at them in the bathroom mirror, mottled shades of yellow, blue, and brown, darker where my neck is scarred.

I came out of the bathroom to find Luz waiting for me, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed.

“What?” I asked flatly.

“I’m sorry,” she said, not meeting my eyes. “I shouldn’t’ve doubted you.”

“Are you saying you believe me?”

She closed her eyes and sighed. “I don’t know. It’s complicated. I believe you think you—”

“I think I’ve had enough of this today.” I headed for the basement door, one hand on the wall to keep my balance.

Annoyingly, Luz walked beside me. “There may be a way to see what happened for sure,” she said. “A way to see what you saw.”

I paused with my hand on the doorknob. I had a hunch of what she meant. “What are you talking about?”

“Memory photos.”

The thought had crossed my mind already, but the last thing I ever want is anyone digging through my memories. “Absolutely not.”

“We could set it up so no one else sees what’s on the other photos.”

“Well, maybe I don’t want to see what’s on those photos. Did you think about that, Luz?”

“Titan, it was just a suggestion.” She held her hands up. “And if Philip is back somehow—as a ghost or whatever else—we need to know.”

I rubbed my neck, the only proof I had in that moment, proof that no one else could see. “My memories aren’t a fun fantasy adventure, Luz. You know that.”

“I do.” 

“Fine.” I sighed. “I’ll think about it. No promises.”

“The last thing I want to do is hurt you,” she said. “And I know that what I said today hurt you. And I’m sorry.”

I shrugged. “It’s fine. Can’t blame you for not believing that.”

“I do trust you, hermano. I’m just really scared right now.”

Scared because of me. “I know,” I said.

“Let me know what you decide about the memory photos. I think it could help.”

“Okay.” I attempted to smile at her. “I’m thinking about it.”

“You need a hug right now?”

I shook my head. Everything about me felt gross. “Thanks for asking, though.”

“It’s gonna be okay, Hunter.”

“Goodnight, Luz.”

She said something about it only being 4:00pm and that she’d come to get me for dinner. I shrugged it off and stepped through the door.

As soon as it closed behind me, the physical exhaustion kicked in fully. I nearly passed out. I held onto the railing, going down one step at a time, then sat down at the bottom. I was just going to take a few minutes to catch my breath and balance again.

What a shame your little ‘family’ doesn’t believe you.

No. Not again. I put my face in my hands and told myself over and over, Not real. He isn't here. He can't be here.

"Oh, Hunter. I'm aware that learning the true nature of your origin was upsetting for you."

I felt him sit down beside me, heard the step creak under his weight.

“But I truly began to see myself as your uncle, and you as my dear nephew.”   The more he spoke, the clearer his voice became.

“I’m sure,” I said sarcastically.

“You still see me that way, do you not?”

“No, I don’t.”

He chuckled. “Oh, that’s right. You don’t see me as an uncle.” He put his hand on the back of my neck and ran his fingers through my hair. “Has your hair ever been this long before?” he asked, changing the subject.

“What do you care?” I kept my face in my hands.

“You used to be so diligent about keeping your hair short. It was the one aspect of your appearance you managed to maintain.”

He was the one who was particular about the state of my hair. He cut and shaved it the same way every time, every three weeks until I was old enough to learn how to do it myself.

“What’s the matter, child? Afraid to look at me?”

That teasing tone in his voice made my skin crawl. And yeah, I was afraid. Afraid that I would open my eyes and see him smiling down at me. He was still touching my hair, combing through it with his fingers.

“Too sick to move,” I said, a poor excuse.

“Yet you rejected my offer of a cure. How interesting.”

I tensed at the memory of him squeezing Stringbean over me. “I’m not going to eat palismen. I’m not like you.”

“Oh, don’t pretend as if you’re so above me. Need I remind you of all the palismen you handed to me?” He leaned closer, his breath grazing my notched ear. “Need I remind you of the reason you’re still alive?”

“That’s not the same,” I whispered. “Flapjack chose to do that for me.”

“Yes, just after you mortally wounded it.”

“After you tried to kill him,” I corrected.

“Look at me, Hunter.” He put his hand over mine, coaxing me to uncover my face. 

I didn’t want to. I’d tried to pretend this wasn’t happening, that he couldn’t actually touch or hurt me.

But real or not, I could feel the gentle threat of his hand.

I let him bring my face away from my hands. I opened my eyes and he turned my face to look at him.

“That’s right,” he said. He traced the outline of my scar with one finger and then brushed some of the hair from my face.

Looking at him felt different than it had in the middle of the night. For one, his hand was caressing my face instead of crushing my throat. And his smile didn’t seem so cold. This was the man who let me linger in his study when I was supposed to be in bed, the man who thanked me for helping him during his episodes, who told me stories and said that he loved me. This was the man who I called out for in my dreams.

“After all my efforts to form you in my brother’s image,” my uncle said. “I look at you and see myself. Like looking in a mirror.”

Those words should’ve disturbed me to my bones, but instead they felt like praise. My lips pulled into an involuntary smile. I wanted to wrap my arms around him and for him to hold me.

“Come back to me, Hunter.” He stroked my cheek. “You know I love you. I know you miss me.”

I felt myself lean into his touch, my eyes falling shut. Part of my brain was screaming that this was wrong wrong wrong wrong. But I could barely hear that. I felt warmth and peace, the security that once came with his presence.

“I’m still with you, nephew,” he whispered. “I’ll always be a part of you.”

He took his hand from my face and I felt him stand up. Don't leave me. I heard him walk away. When I opened my eyes, I was alone.

Sitting there on the last step, I couldn’t move. I was barely aware of where I was. The feeling of emptiness crept in slowly. I stared at a single spot on my floor. I felt like I might fall asleep on the stairs. If I fall asleep, will I find that version of him again?

I’m not sure how long the haze lasted. It wasn’t until I heard a knock on my door that I started to regain awareness of my body and surroundings.

“Dinner time, hermano!” Luz called.

Luz.

He hurt her. Images of his mindscape and of the look on her face in the graveyard flashed through my mind. My stomach turned.

She opened the door slowly. “Hunter?” 

I looked at my hands and saw them covered in blood and rotten flesh.

“Are you okay?” She sat down beside me; I flinched.

I pulled my gaze from my hands and met her eyes. My mouth was dry around the words. “I…I don’t know.”

“Can you make it upstairs or should I bring your dinner down here?”

I shook my head. No, I couldn’t walk up a flight of stairs. No, I didn’t deserve the kindness of her bringing my food to me.

“I’ll go get your plate,” she said.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“Don’t worry about it. Not your fault you’re not feeling well.”

“Right. Yeah.”

She went back upstairs. In my mind, I replayed all the ways my uncle hurt my friends, then the many atrocities he committed against the Boiling Isles. He hurt Vee, he hurt Raine, Luz, Lilith, Eda. And he killed you. He killed you. 

But no matter how many times I reminded myself of who he really was, I couldn’t get rid of the image of him reaching out and comforting me.

When Luz got back with my chicken and rice, she asked if I was okay again. I gave the same answer. Then she asked, “Do you feel safe? With yourself?”

I felt like I should be punished for feeling anything but hate for that man.

I thought about knives and ropes and the razor under my mattress.

I looked at Luz, who looked back with so much warmth and light.

“Yeah,” I told her. “I think so. Just kinda out of it right now."

And she believed me.

Hunter

Chapter Text

Dear Flapjack,

I had a dream that he cut my hair for me.

When I was little, he always did it for me. He said no one else could be trusted with the task, as the Titan himself had determined the way my hair would be cut. Shaved sides, long on top, stupid hair thingy at just the right length. He was obsessive about it. Every three weeks, in my room or in his study, I would sit perfectly still (“If you move a muscle, the razor could cut your scalp.”) and he would meticulously scrape the blade across my skull and then trim the top. Once he was finished, he would walk all the way around me, making sure each strand of hair was exactly how it was meant to be.

“Your hair is a symbol of your devotion,” he told me. “It pleases the Titan, and therefore pleases me as well.”

As I got older, he taught me to do it myself. He guided my hand over and over until I memorized every dip and rise of my skull. I could’ve done it without a mirror. Not that the small mirror I kept in my room was much help anyway. 

Part of me missed when he would do it. The older I got, the stricter he became, the more harsh his punishments would become. But every three weeks, I was guaranteed 15 minutes of non-violent touch. Once I started doing it myself, I could only hope for any gesture of affection. When he did choose to cut my hair, it was an act of generosity, and I treasured it.

The last time he did it was when he made me head of the Emperor’s Coven.

“The Titan has deemed you worthy of this chance,” he said as he cleaned the razor. “Despite the ways in which you have fallen short.”

I sat facing my desk. Like every other flat surface in my room, it was a mess with notes and paperwork. When he showed up, I rushed to clear off enough space for the scissors, razor, and bowl of warm water. I mentally checked to make sure I hadn’t left any incriminating notes or objects lying out. I kept any mention of wild magic on pages folded and shoved under my mattress, a hiding spot that went unchecked during room inspections.

“The Titan’s plans for you require unwavering devotion.” His fingers brushed across the right side of my scalp. “You do not have to understand to obey. You simply have to obey.”

Even though I knew he wouldn’t hurt me in that moment, I could hear the line of tension drawn by his words. “The Titan” had generously given me new authority, a position of honor. I was to do whatever the Titan said, whether or not it made sense or felt right. But I couldn’t speak to or hear from the Titan. I simply had to obey whatever commands my uncle handed down. As far as I was concerned, they were one and the same.

I flinched and inhaled sharply at the cold touch of the razor.

“Be still, Hunter,” my uncle said. “This doesn’t have to hurt.”

I focused on my breathing, trying not to think about how much pressure I was under, how sharp that razor was, and how fast his temper could be set off. I stayed as quiet and still as I could. The feeling of his hands on my head, this task that required him to be steady, it used to be comforting. Now it felt as constricting as my uniform.

He dusted hair from my neck and shoulders. “There’s a selkidomus which poses a threat to our ships. You need to kill it.”

“O-Okay. Wh—I mean, where is it?” I stopped myself from asking why. I knew that selkidomus were peaceful unless provoked. I didn’t understand why it needed to be killed, or why I needed to be the one to do it. But I didn’t need to know why. I needed to obey.

“You’ll receive details in the morning. Early.” He glanced at the window. “You should try to get some rest, Hunter. It’s already gotten so late.”

My face started to tingle. “Of course, sir. And thank you.”

He lined up the tools on my desk. “I know I’ve been hard on you lately,” he said. “But you know this is all for the greater good, right?”

I bowed my head. “Yes, sir.”

“Everything I do is to help you.” He put his hand under my chin and tilted my face up. “I hold you to higher standards because I believe you are capable of great things. The Titan has set you apart from other witches. That’s why it hurts me so much to see you struggle. I want you to be better.”

“Thank you, uncle,” I said. 

His eyes flicked up and down my face. My heart was pounding; I worried he would see it pulsing in my throat. My ears rang.

“You’re the only family I have left,” he said. “I do all this because I love you.” He curled the front part of my hair around his finger and then put his hand firmly on my shoulder. “I love you, Hunter.”

I couldn’t feel my face. My stomach tightened. “I-I love you too, Uncle Belos.”

He bent down and kissed the top of my head.

In my dream last night, he cut my hair and then put his hand around my throat.

When I woke up, I couldn’t move. Couldn’t even open my eyes.

I still felt his hand on my throat, holding me down.

I heard his voice like it was coming from all directions.

Be still, Hunter.

This doesn’t have to hurt.

I thought I was going to die.

When I was finally able to open my eyes, there was nothing but darkness around me. Shaking, I reached down and plugged in the multi-colored string lights. I stared up at them and took deep breaths.

I am in Camila’s basement. My room. My sisters and my mom are upstairs. I’m not dying. I’m still alive. My name is Hunter. Hunter stay.

I put on a sweatshirt and pulled the hood over my head. A few more deep breaths. It’d be about an hour before Camila would be up for work. I grabbed Snow and my blanket and went upstairs. Hoping to think about anything other than this, I decided to watch a few early episodes of Steven Universe. I teared up at the episode where Steven and Amethyst go to the gem kindergarten. I must have spaced out when I watched it the first time because I feel like I should’ve remembered that one.

When I heard Camila heading down, I was hit with a pang of guilt for not starting the coffee. I’m aware this is not something I am supposed to feel guilty about, but I’m not as good at suppressing my emotions as I used to be.

I got up and went into the kitchen as Camila reached the living room.

“Good morning, mijo!” Camila said as she walked in. “You feeling okay?”

I opened the container of coffee grounds, leaning against the counter as I scooped tablespoons into the filter. “Yeah, I-I’m fine.” I smiled at her.

She gave me a look like she didn’t entirely believe me. “Do you want to go for a drive when I get home later?”

A noble attempt to cheer me up. I measured out the water and pressed the brew button. “Maybe.”

Embarrassingly winded from the effort, I took a seat at the table and fidgeted with my fingers while she put pre-made breakfast burritos in the air fryer.

“Hey, um, Camila—I mean, mom—” Any name or word I use still feels awkward in some way. My face burned. “Would it be weird if, um, well, you know, my hair, it’s gotten really long and I guess I was wondering if you could—you know—actually, nevermind. It’s—”

Camila laughed lightly and sat in the chair next to me. “Hunter, do you want me to cut your hair?”

I put my face in my hands. “Sorry. It’s stupid. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

She put her hand on my back. “No, no, no, baby. It’s not stupid at all. I’d be happy to help you with that. Or I could take you to the barber—”

“NO.” I covered my mouth. “No. Sorry. I just. I’d rather it just be you, if that’s okay.” The idea of some random stranger touched my hair made my skin crawl.

“Of course that’s okay,” she said. “If you find a picture of the style you’d like, I’ll do my best to match it.”

“Thank you,” I said, my face and ears still burning. “Thanks.”

“Of course, Hunter.” She rubbed my back then started to stand. “I love you.”

Oh. I was supposed to say it back. But I couldn’t say anything. I stared at the table while she poured two cups of coffee. She put a mug in front of me, the coffee lightened by creamer. Then she set down a plate with one of the breakfast burritos. 

“Hasta luego, cariño,” she said and then kissed me on the head.

I froze.

She paused between the table and the exit. “Are you okay?”

“Oh. Right.” I shook my head to shake off the feeling. Then I forced a smile and waved. “Uh, hasta luego, mamá.”

She looked at me for an extra second before walking out.

I stared at the coffee and the burrito.

She didn’t have to do that. Didn’t have to sit down and talk to me. Didn’t have to pour my coffee for me, but she even remembered how much creamer I use. She didn’t have to agree to help with my hair.

She didn’t have to tell me she loves me. She just did. So casually. Without waiting for me to say it back.

I pulled the coffee mug towards me. My eyes watered.

Oh, I thought. This is what it’s like. When someone really means it.

After everything I did for you, you really think I don’t love you?

My spine stiffened.

“Oh, relax,” my uncle said. I felt the air shift as he walked around from behind me, hand grazing across my left shoulder. “I only wish to speak with you again.”

“I’m so sure,” I muttered, hands shaking. “Just leave me alone.”

He kept his hand on my shoulder as he sat down. “I went through all this trouble to come back to you and this is how you speak to me?” He gave me a disappointed sigh. “Typical.”

“Y-You’re not actually here.” My voice was tight.

“Are you so sure about that, Hunter?” He tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. “Because if I’m not actually here, who was it that hurt the human’s palisman, hmm?”

“It’s not possible. You’re dead.”

“Yes, that has been a pesky obstacle in finding you again.”

I looked straight ahead as he leaned in close to my face. I could feel his breath on my skin.

“But it hasn’t stopped me before.” 

I squeezed my eyes shut. “Wh-What do you want from me?”

“What do I want? I’m here for you, Hunter, and for what you need.”

“I-I don’t need you.”

He exhaled sharply. “Oh, Hunter. You don’t know what you need. I created you. I know exactly what you need.”

“You’re dead.”

“And you’re dying.”

My fists clenched. “No, I’m not.”

“How long will you keep telling yourself that?” He dipped a finger into my coffee then shook the liquid off his hand. “That medicine may be prolonging your time, but you still you suffer. It hurts me to see you in pain like this.”

I scoffed. “My pain never bothered you before.”

“Do not be ridiculous, child. It was painful to watch you struggle and fail. I only wanted to help you be better.” He traced the scar on my left cheek with his coffee-stained finger. “You could be strong again. You only have to—”

“NO!” I grabbed the coffee mug and threw it. The ceramic shattered against the floor. I grabbed my hair with both hands. “You can’t—I won’t—!”

He laughed as he stood up. “It’s only a matter of time.”

“No. No no no no.” I pulled at my hair, resisting the urge to slam my fists against the table. “You can’t…you can’t make me. You can’t. No. No. No.”

“Hunter?”

I startled at the sound of Luz’s voice, standing to face her and then falling back against the table. I sank back down into my seat, staring up at her wide eyed.

“Were you just talking to yourself—?” She looked to the side and saw the shattered mug and splattered coffee. “...What happened?”

I covered my mouth and shook my head. Can’t tell her. She won’t believe me.

“Did you see Belos again?”

I shrank down in my seat, still shaking my head.

“I can call out of work if—”

“Please don’t do that,” I said. “I-I’ll be okay. You don’t need to do that.”

“Okay.” She grabbed the broom from the corner and headed for the broken mug. “Do you want to talk about it?”

I stood up and took the broom from her. “No, it’s fine. I can clean this up myself.”

Luz frowned at me. “Bro, you’re shaking like crazy. You should probably sit down.”

“I’m fine. I broke the mug so I’ll fix it. Clean it. Whatever.” I went to sweep the pieces but stopped when I saw how much coffee was on the floor and splattered on the cabinets. “After I clean up the coffee.”

“At least let me help you,” Luz said.

“It’s my mess.” I grabbed the paper towel roll and tore off half a dozen squares. “I’m going to clean it.”

“I’m not gonna let you pass out in a pile of broken glass, dumbass.”

“It’s ceramic. And I’m not going to pass out. I feel fine.”

“Oh, is that why you dropped the mug? Because you’re feeling so ‘fine?’”

“Didn’t drop it.” I crouched down and placed paper towels over the pooling coffee.

“So it just jumped off the counter to its death?”

“No, Luz. I fucking threw it.”

As I reached to pick up the soaked paper towels, Luz grabbed my wrist.

“Hunter,” she said. “You can clean this up. Fine. But for titan’s sake, put some dang gloves on. And don’t you give me shit about having sooo many scars that it doesn’t even matter, because it does matter, at the very least because I don’t want to tweeze shards of coffee mug out of your hands.” 

I definitely would’ve given her shit about already having scars and not noticing a few more. I stood up straight, ignoring the shaking in my knees. “Fine.”

Annoyingly, Luz grabbed more paper towels as I got the gardening gloves from under the sink. Uninterested in further arguing, I let her help me. 

By the time we were done, my head was spinning. I tried not to show how weak I was feeling. Luz took the last breakfast burrito out of the air fryer and sat down, refusing to start eating hers until I took a bite of mine.

“Hey, um,” she said after we were both done. “It’s just me and Masha the HisSoc today, and I’ve been wondering, like, about what happened at the party—I mean, I think we should tell them.”

The sudden mention of the party situation took me off guard. I clenched my fists under the table. “Uh, what?”

“Well, they’re sort of friends with Paul and I think they should know he’s a fucking creep,” Luz said. “They don’t have to know the whole story or that it was you or anything, just that they should stay away from that freak.”

“You want to tell Masha.” My head buzzed. “About what Paul did. At the party.”

“Not exactly. Just that he’s a creep and they shouldn’t trust him.”

“Then they’ll ask why they shouldn’t trust him.”

“And I’ll say that it’s because I have reasons to believe that he’s a fucking creep.”

“And when they ask about the reasons?” I shook my head. “They’re gonna know you’re talking about me, Luz. I’m the only person you could be talking about.”

“Okay. If you don’t want me to tell them anything, I won’t. But they keep mentioning him and that he works at Robin’s and it really grosses me out. I don’t want them going near him. And I don’t want Vee going near him.”

I stared at the empty plate in front of me. Luz had wanted to tell Vee right after she found out, but I made her promise not to. I said I’d tell her eventually myself, but I’ve been avoiding it. But if Masha is actually friends with Paul…

“I just don’t want them to know it was me,” I said softly. “I don’t want anyone else to know.” No one else is supposed to know.

“You know, it wasn’t your fault, Hunter. They’re not gonna think differently about you.”

Maybe that’s true. I know Luz believes it’s true. But I don’t see how it could be, how they would be able to think of me the same. Not when I can’t see myself the same as before.

“And I won’t mention you at all. I swear.”

“Okay. Just so they’ll stay away from him.”

“Okay.” Luz traced circles on the table. “Are you…are you still going to tell Vee?”

I didn’t respond.

“You don’t have to tell anyone. But it’ll be okay if you do.”

I shrugged. “Maybe.”

That afternoon, while Luz and Camila were still at work, I sat with Vee in the living room. She was helping me look at Pinterest photos to find a hair style to show Camila.

“If you want,” Vee had offered. “I can do what I do for Luz and model the hairstyles for you?”

“As in shapeshift to look like me?” The idea of looking at a replica of myself made me want to throw up and/or die. “I appreciate the offer, but no.”

So Pinterest it was.

After settling on a couple of tolerable pictures, Vee asked if I wanted to play Overcooked 2.

“Um, yeah,” I said. “But before we do that…”

Vee stood up to grab the controllers. “C’mon man, the photos we found are fine. Stop overthinking and start overcooking!”

I sort of laughed. “That’s not what I mean,” I said. “I just. There’s something I should tell you.”

Now she sensed the shift in tone. She set the controllers down and sat beside me. “What is it?”

“Remember that party we all went to last month?”

“Well, yes. It’d be hard to forget that disaster.”

“Right,” I grimaced. Really hard to forget. “Well, there was this guy there and he was kind of a creep and I think he’s friends with Masha.” 

No one else is allowed to know.

“Shit,” Vee said. “That guy Amity told us about?”

I nodded. Pain pricked at my scars. “Yeah. Paul.”

“Amity said he had weird vibes but I didn’t realize…” She glanced at me. I think it must’ve been written all over my face. “Was he being creepy to you?”

I just looked at her.

“Mother of titan, I’m gonna kill that guy,” she muttered. “Where’s mom’s baseball bat…?’

“You don’t have to—”

“No, I think I’m gonna go to Robin’s and beat his ass,” she said, only half joking. “Ugh, I can’t believe I let that guy make me a cappuccino. And he burned the milk! A creep and a shitty barista. Pick a struggle, am I right?”

I think she was trying to make me laugh, so I tried to laugh and ignore the shame flooding my body. “Ha ha, yeah.”

“Sorry.” Vee offered her hand to me. “I’m not actually going to do anything. Unless you decide you want me to. Then it’s baseball bat city for that fucker.”

I kept my hands in my lap. “Thanks, Vee,” I said. “But I’d really rather forget the whole thing.”

“I get it.” She grabbed the controllers and handed one to me. “And thanks. For telling me.”

I thought about explaining what Luz told me earlier. I just want Vee to stay away from that guy and that’s why I told her.

Part of me was relieved. She didn’t make a huge deal out of it, didn’t ask for more details.

But anxiety turned my stomach. I struggled to focus on the game. 

I felt him watching me. I heard him breathing behind me.

I didn’t look. 

Just a hallucination, I told myself.

My skin felt slimy and gross.

I knew that once I was alone, he’d find me again.

He isn’t really here.

When Camila got home, I asked if we could wait on the haircut.

I don’t think I can handle anyone touching me right now.

Especially not my hair.

He can’t hurt me anymore.

There are still bruises on my neck that no one else can see.

Would they show up in memory photos? I did tell Luz I would consider that option.

I still think that’s a bad idea. I’m remembering enough shit as is. I don’t need anyone tweezing memories out of my mind. What I need is for this to stop. I need it to stop. I just want it to stop. Stop it. Stop. Stop

Hunter

Chapter Text

Dear Flapjack,

It hasn’t stopped. I haven’t stopped seeing him.

He hasn’t stopped showing up.

Throughout the day I feel his presence looming behind me. I’ll see a shadow in a doorway or down the hall. I hear his voice calling me from downstairs or upstairs. I’ll find him waiting for me at the table or on the couch in the basement. 

Full conversations. I’m having full conversations with my extremely dead uncle.

Well, he usually does most of the talking.

I feel like I’m living in two different realities, and only I can see one of them.

Luz can tell that I’m still seeing him, but she doesn’t know how much or how often. She tried to get me to talk about it. But every time I start to think about describing it, my mouth goes dry and my scars sting.

Guilt. I feel guilty. Not for keeping things from Luz or anyone else.

I feel guilty for not hating every second of his presence.

I sit there and let him touch my face, mess with my hair. I see him and feel small again. He leaves and I feel empty again.

I hate when he leaves.

I can’t tell anyone. They won’t believe me. Or they will and this is actually real and it can’t be real.

This stays between the two of us, nephew. Do you promise not to tell anyone else?

I hate myself. I hate it so much.

Camila still hasn’t cut my hair. Something feels wrong about it. About having anyone else touch it. 

Yesterday, I went to therapy. I didn’t want to talk. I didn’t want her to ask all those questions again. I didn’t want to hear those words again.

“How have you been feeling since our last session?” Beatrice asked.

Shrug.

“Have you experienced any more memory blackouts or dissociation?”

Does hallucinating my dead uncle every day count as dissociation? “Dunno,” I answered.

“I know things got pretty intense last time we talked,” she said.

It sounds like he was trying to sexually assault you, Hunter.  

I crossed my arms and stared at the floor. If I could just stop thinking about that, maybe I would feel less like dying. If I could just forget about it. All of it.

"And I know it's hard for you to talk to me." Beatrice drew a spell circle and a closed blue box appeared on the floor. “So, maybe instead of talking about yourself today, it might be easier to tell a story.” She reached down and pulled the lid off the box. 

It was full of sand. Sand and a second box full of miscellaneous children’s toys. Action figures, multicolored blocks, tiny plastic plants, animal figurines, other random toys. A weird assortment where nothing seemed to match.

Confused, I raised my eyebrows at Beatrice. 

“I’d like for you to try and tell a story with toys in the sandbox. You don’t have to speak, but you can if you’d like.”

“Huh.” I leaned down and pulled the box of toys closer to me. “What story am I supposed to tell?”

Beatrice shrugged. “Whatever comes to mind. You can make it up or recreate one from memory, whatever you feel like doing.”

“Is there supposed to be a theme? Setting? Specific characters?”

“Whatever you want.”

That is not a helpful instruction.

“See if there’s something in there that speaks to you.”

I searched for a moment then said, “I don’t think any of these have voice boxes.”

“Sorry,” Beatrice said. “I didn’t mean that literally. Just pick a few figures that you like.”

My cheeks burned. Of course that wasn’t literal. At least she didn't laugh at me.

I kept digging through the toys. The first one I pulled out was a little wolf figurine. It was in a sitting pose. I think it was supposed to be a pup.

“So, I just put it in the sandbox?” I asked.

“Mhmm.”

I stuck the wolf pup in the sand and kept looking through the toys. I grabbed a couple of the miniature trees and a few red and green blocks to make the sand seem a little more like a forest. Didn't help much. Next I tried to find something that could be a character with the wolf. I thought about using the skeleton figure but touching it made my skin crawl. There were some other animal figurines I could’ve picked, but none of them felt right. I ended up picking a little plastic hourglass. I stuck it in the sand beside the wolf. Finally, I added a purple car.

“So, uh, there’s this little wolf guy, right? A-And he’s friends with this—” I picked up the hourglass “—time thing. And they’re in the woods. That’s why there are trees.”

I glanced at Beatrice to see how she was reacting. Her face remained as neutral as typical for her.

“This feels stupid,” I said. “Isn’t this stuff for kids?”

“What feels stupid about it?”

“I haven’t played with toys since I was a toddler. I’m too old for this.” I’m also too old to sleep with stuffed animals, but I decided not to bring that up.

“If it helps, think of this more as a storytelling exercise.” She twirled her pen in her hand. “But also, you are a kid, Hunter. Even if you don’t feel like it.”

I don’t like feeling like a kid. The toys made me feel dumb because they made me feel like a kid.

“Sure.” I turned my attention back to the sandbox. “The wolf pup and time thingy are hanging out in the woods. Time thingy can’t figure out if they’re upside-down or not.” I flipped the plastic hourglass. “Wolf pup says, ‘who fucking cares, I’m hungry.’ Then he walks off without time thingy.” I wasn’t sure what to say after that.

“Why did wolf pup leave time thingy?” Beatrice prompted. The “names” sounded even stupider when she said them.

I resisted an eye roll, reminding myself that I shouldn’t disrespect her even if I thought her therapy thing was dumb.

“Uh, because wolf pup is bored and knows that time thingy stands up both ways.” I flipped time thingy over again. “And wolf pup is hungry so he’s trying to find something to eat.” I glanced up at Beatrice; she just nodded. “Uh, and then wolf pup crosses the road.” I cleared a path in the sand to represent the road. “But there’s something scary on the other side, so he decides to go back to time thingy. But when he’s crossing the road again, this car runs over him and he dies.” I showed the purple car running over the wolf figurine, dropped them both, and then crossed my arms. “The end.”

Beatrice looked at the toys in the sand. “What happened to time thingy?”

I flipped the hourglass. “Time thingy got mad that wolf pup ran away. Then they saw that wolf pup was dead and they were relieved.”

“Why were they relieved? Wasn’t wolf pup their friend?”

I pushed sand over wolf pup’s body. “Well, wolf pup was a bad friend who made everyone sad because he was always talking about how much he wanted to die so when it finally happened time thingy was relieved they didn’t have to deal with how depressing their dead friend was anymore.”

“How does that make you feel?”

“This is stupid.”

“Okay, sure. But do you feel any emotions about it?”

“Uh, annoyed?”

She wrote that down. “Anything else? How did the story make you feel?”

I shrugged.

“Why did wolf pup want to die?”

I looked at the sand where wolf pup was buried. “I don’t know. He just hated himself. Probably ran in front of that car on purpose.”

“Who told him to hate himself?”

“What?” I frowned at her. “I don’t know, he just did.”

“Kids—or pups—don’t just naturally hate themselves. That kind of thing comes from somewhere or someone sending the message, directly or indirectly, that they deserve to feel like that.” 

“Maybe wolf pup does deserve to feel like that.”

“What’s wrong with wolf pup?”

Something is wrong with Hunter!

“Wish I knew.” I put one hand in the sand, squeezing and letting it go over and over.

“You are the one telling the story,” Beatrice said. “You can make something up. Anything at all.”

“Well, then.” I pushed my hand back and forth through the sand. I liked the way the grains felt against my skin. “Wolf pup could never do anything right. He messed everything up for everyone, even when he should’ve been able to do it right. He couldn’t understand things right and he was aggressive and loud at his friends. And he was bad at talking.”

“And that’s why he hates himself?”

“Well, he hates himself because everything he does hurts people. He tries sooo hard not to hurt anyone and eventually realizes he can hurt himself instead.”

Beatrice didn’t respond right away. I pushed more sand over the wolf toy, hoping the movement would hide how much my hands were shaking.

“You said that wolf pup got scared by something on the other side of the road,” Beatrice said. “What was that?”

I grabbed the toy box and dug through it again. I picked out one of the larger pieces, a dragon with articulated limbs and wings. Not exactly what I was looking for, but options were limited. I stuck it in the sand where the other side of the road had been.

“Big scary wolf dragon,” I said. “Who wanted to take wolf pup away. Wolf pup would rather die than go with him.”

The hourglass, trees, and blocks had all fallen over when I was messing with the sand. The car was partially buried. The tip of the wolf’s tail was poking out of his grave. The dragon was the only piece still standing. I was starting to get why Beatrice made me do this.

“Do you know where the dragon was going to take wolf pup?” she asked.

I didn’t respond. I couldn’t stop looking at the toys.

“Hunter?”

Where was the dragon going to take wolf pup?

What did he try to do to you?

“I don’t know,” I murmured, unsure if she’d be able to hear me.

“That’s okay.”

“Are we done yet?” I wanna go home.

“We can be,” Beatrice answered. “Are you feeling safe?”

I felt numb. “Guess so,” I said.

“Thanks for trying this out. I know it’s a little different than what you’re used to.”

“Wasn’t that bad,” I admitted. “I guess.”

When I got home, I sat on the couch with Luz while she played Stardew Valley. She asked how therapy was; I shrugged. I zoned out watching the game. The rest of the day was kind of a blur. I dreaded the end of it, when I would be alone in my room.

Alone but not alone.

I can feel his presence most of the time, like he’s always somewhere nearby. It’s how I always felt in the castle, knowing he was watching me wherever I was, unsure when he’d be around the corner or knocking at my door. When I ran away from the coven, the feeling was still there. I thought it would never go away, that I would never be able to escape him. I thought death would be the only way out.

When we got trapped in the human realm, the feeling finally started to fade. I watched the Collector flick the monster that was my uncle into a pile of goo and then I was in a different dimension. He was dead and an entire realm away.

Except that wasn’t true.

He was there the whole time. Waiting for a body to steal.

Does it count as stealing if he’s the one who made the body?

When I trudged downstairs well after midnight, I was thinking about the story I told Beatrice. I guess “story” is a bit generous to describe what that was. Seeing Snow sitting on my bed didn’t really help.

I crawled in bed, grabbing the wolf plush and holding him to my chest. String lights still on, I curled up tight under the blankets and waited. For nightmares or…

I felt him sit down. He started stroking my hair with cold fingers.

“...what do you want?” I muttered into Snow’s fluff.

“Now, now. There’s no need for such an attitude.” One of his nails dug into my scalp just slightly, a silent warning. “Can an uncle not simply visit his nephew from beyond the grave?”

I grew even more tense. “You’re not my uncle.”

His thumb grazed my cheekbone. “Well, if that’s how you feel…” he said. “...Can a father not visit his son?”

My head buzzed. I tried to focus on the softness of my stuffed wolf. Since this started, he hasn’t touched me anywhere besides my face and hair. Maybe that’s because this isn’t real—because it can’t be real, right? He’s not actually here. He’s not. Even right now, I feel him looming behind me as I write. If I don’t turn around and look, I won’t see him.

I looked last night. I opened my eyes and saw his face. It makes me nauseous. Even though I know he can’t actually physically be here, it still feels real.

“You need to sleep now, Hunter. You’ve had a long day, have you not?”

The sound of his voice saying my name made my chest tighten. Not just with anxiety. With longing. I missed him.

Everyone is always asking me if I feel safe. I don’t even know what that means.

I thought I felt safe when I was with him. I’m starting to wonder if maybe the sense of relief that came with the faintest hints of approval wasn’t the same as safety. Every kind touch was a gentle threat.

Sometimes I wish he had only hurt me the way everyone thinks he did. I can point at the scars and say, this is it. This is where he hurt me. But now most of the scars aren’t from his punishments or the outbursts of his curse. 

After everything ended, I got asked about “the possession” a few times. How did it happen? What did it feel like?

I never answered.

How could I describe something like that?

What did he do to you? Someone asked me that early into Hexside reconstruction. It was one of the few times my past got brought up before Principal Bump shut down those conversations.

“So were you, like, raised by Belos?”

“I heard he was his nephew.”

“No way, that’s so messed up.”

“Wait, is that where you got all those scars?”

“Holy titan, man. What did he do to you?”

I had shut down almost entirely. I wanted to tell them all to fuck off and leave me alone, or at least tell them not to ask me that shit. I just sat there staring at my hands in my lap. Willow came by the table and got them all to scram. She sat with me until I was able to speak again and then said I should go home early.

A couple of questions was all it took to send me into a spiral.

I didn’t want to remember. I don’t want to remember. 

I tried to forget. He made sure I never could.

Months ago, Raine sat with me on the roof of the Owl House. “There’s at least one thing we have in common,” they said. The scars. The possession. They warned me that avoiding remembering things that have happened to me couldn’t stop the feeling from finding me eventually. They were giving me a chance to talk about it.

I wondered briefly if they actually did feel the same thing I did.

I hope not.

Whenever someone asked me what it felt like to be possessed, all I could think about were the nights I spent staring at the mirror I only used when treating wounds or cutting my hair. My reflection was there. Magenta eyes lined by sleepless nights. Eyebrows drawn in a constant scowl. Cheeks hollowed by endless days of working and training with just enough food to keep me on my feet.

I stared at my medical supplies, at the threads, needles, bandages, ointments. But there was nothing I could wrap or stitch. There was no wound I could clean.

What did he do to you?

Whatever he wanted to. Everything was for him. Every move I made, every breath I took. It was his.

“Is this the thanks I get for taking you in?”

I wasn’t his nephew. 

“What a shame. Out of all the grimwalkers, you looked the most like him.”

I wasn’t the Golden Guard.

“Now we can finish our work as witch hunters together!”

I wasn’t Hunter.

“You wouldn’t want me to hurt your precious palisman, would you?”

I was a body.

“Oh, that’s right. I don’t care what you want.”

I was his body.

And I loved him. I loved him so much. I believed him when he said he loved me. No matter what, I held onto that. Everything he did to me, he did because he loved me. And I believed him. Love was the hand stroking my left cheek and the hand that sliced off half my right cheek. If he hurt me, I had done something to deserve it. When he belittled me, made me feel like shit, it was because he was trying to help me. He was good and I was weak. I was nothing without him.

Now he’s here and I feel my skin being ripped apart all over again. I’m crazy enough that part of me wants to believe him. I think part of me does believe him.

“I know you miss me,” he said while stroking my hair. “That’s why I’m here, Hunter.”

He came back for me, that sick part of me thought. He found a way back because he loves me.

No. It’s just my mind playing tricks on me. It’s just muddled memories of a person who only ever lied to me. I don’t need him anymore. I don’t want him here.

“Do you want me to go?” he asked.

“No.” The word came out of my mouth, a desperate whisper I didn’t want to make. “Don’t leave me. Please.”

“Alright, son. I’ll stay with you.”

I fell asleep with him still stroking my hair.

Hold still now, Hunter.

It was a dream. It was just that dream again.

Do not move until I give you permission.

It’s not real. It can’t be real.

Are you sure about that?

I DON’T KNOW.

I don’t want to know.

Don’t make me remember.

I said, HOLD STILL, Hunter.

LET ME OUT

You’re only making this more difficult for yourself.

LET ME FORGET

Please.

I’ll be careful. 

I won’t burn it all.

I just want it to stop.

please.

let me forget.

i don’t wanna remember this anymore.

please.

please, dad.

i wanna forget.

hunter

YOU KNOW HOW TO MAKE IT STOP.

Chapter Text

Dear Flapjack,

The first time I saw Willow after what had (or hadn’t) happened between us was in the Owl House living room on the afternoon we would spend digging memories out of my head. 

I sat on the couch cradling a mug of calming tea brewed by Raine. Eda and King were setting up a makeshift photo lab in the kitchen. Luz had Penstagram messaged me that she and Willow were on their way with the tweezers. The calming tea was not working.

I got on my feet as soon as the door opened. I probably should’ve planned out what to say when I saw her, like, “Hey Willow, thanks for doing this. I appreciate it so much and I’m so relieved that you don’t totally hate me.”   Well maybe not that last part. But it still would’ve been better than what I actually did.

Willow came through the door in her flyer derby gear. The Emerald Entrails must’ve had practice. She looked like she’d come straight off the field to the house. Hair pulled up and wind blown, cheeks red, arms and forehead still glistening with sweat and—

Anyways. I stood up and saluted her. “H-Hey, Captain!” My voice squeaked out. 

She had been laughing at something Luz said when they walked in. Then she saw me and her face changed. Her eyes narrowed and her mouth pulled back in a tight frown.

“Hey, Hunter,” she said. Then she turned away and walked to the kitchen.

I glanced down at my clothes. I had dressed for comfort and not fashion (not that it really makes much of a difference for me). An old sweater, baggy pyjama pants, Crocs. The clothes hung in a way that reminded me how much my body has changed in the last few months. Haven’t been looking in mirrors all that much. I try not to think about it that much. I’d rather not think about my body at all.

Willow, on the other hand, seems taller. Stronger. Healthy. I’ve always admired her strength, but I never envied her as much as I did in that moment.

I sank down onto the couch and drank the last of my tea. Luz came over and sat on the table in front of me.

“Are you sure you’re okay to do this?” she asked.

My eyes caught on the scar marking her left eyebrow. “Yeah,” I said. “We have to figure out what’s going on, right?”

The day before, I had pried myself out of the basement to talk to her. It felt like I was leaving part of myself down there, stuck on the couch where I had been writing as he watched me leave.

Vee, Luz, and Camila were all in the living room watching some movie I didn’t recognize. They’d asked earlier if I wanted to join, but I’d said I was too tired or whatever. I leaned in the doorway and whispered at Luz. She told the others not to pause the movie and then came over to me in the hallway.

“Are you feeling sick again?” was the first thing she said.

“What? No,” I shook my head. “Not more than normal.”

“Oh,” Luz said. “So, you’re looking all pale and sweaty for some other reason?”

I frowned at her and ignored the question. “I think we should do your idea. The memory photos thing.”

“Wait, seriously?” She’d raised one eyebrow. “You seemed exceptionally opposed to that idea the other day.”

“Well, I did tell you I would think about it. So I thought about it. And I think we should do it.”

“Are you sure?” she asked. “I don’t know if you wanna mess with that…” 

I tilted my chin up and glared down at her, channeling some of the arrogance I used to be able to manufacture on demand. “Wasn’t it your idea, human?”  

She laughed. “Okay, Hunter. I’ll message Willow so she can rent out the tweezers.”

I slouched back down, grimacing. “Willow?”

“Yeah, she’s pre-approved for equipment loans,” Luz explained. “She already said she could get them if you decided to go for it.”

“...You told her?”

“Me and the others met up at the Owl House when I went to see Stringbean a couple days ago,” she said. “They were asking about what happened to Stringbean so I explained that I didn’t really know since you…You know.”

“Since I what? Lost my mind and started hallucinating?”

“Since you were having a hard time remembering exactly what happened,” Luz said. “I mentioned my idea about the photos, and Willow said she thinks it could work and that she could help us with it.”

My cheeks burned. “Okay! Great! Glad there’s someone who can  help!”

“Your eye is twitching.”

“Don’t worry about it.” I backed away, planning on going back downstairs.

“Hold on,” Luz said, reaching out but not touching me. “What made you change your mind?”

My whole body tensed up. I had hoped she wouldn’t ask that. “I, uh, well, you know, want to know what happened with Stringbean. So that it won’t happen again.”

She narrowed her eyes at me. “Hunter.”

Don’t say it. Don’t tell her. She doesn’t have to know. “I-I’m still…I’ve still been seeing him.” My voice cracked.

She sucked on her teeth and thought for a second. “It’s gotten worse?”

I nodded slightly. My scars burned down my face and neck. “I don’t what else to do,” I whispered.

“Are you okay right now? Do you want to hang out with us for a while? I think you should hang out up here with us.”

I felt like I’d already been up there too long. He was waiting for me downstairs. 

“I-I think I should just go to bed.”

“I don’t want you to be alone,” she said.

I won’t be alone. “I’m not going to hurt myself.”

“I didn’t say you would. But at least let me go with you to make sure you won’t fall down the stairs.”

I’m not sure if I was more afraid she would or wouldn’t see him too. “You really don’t have to do that.”

“Well, I’m doing it anyway.” She stepped around me and headed for the door.

For a second, I thought I might grab her and demand that she leave me alone. Instead, I followed her through, glancing over the railing to check—

He wasn’t there any more. My stomach turned with guilt and relief.

Luz walked in front of me. She glanced back a few times, presumably to make sure I wasn’t about to pass out. At the bottom of the steps, she stopped to survey my room. 

Not wanting her to get even a glimpse of what I’d written, I stepped around her to grab my open journal from the couch. Then I froze.

Underneath the last words I’d written, in dark, heavy ink, was his handwriting.

YOU KNOW HOW TO MAKE IT STOP.

“What?” My head buzzed. I reached down and picked it up, blinking over and over, sure it would disappear if I blinked enough. It stayed. Fresh ink, not even fully dry. What the fuck?

“What are you looking at?” Luz said. She was walking up from behind me.

“Luz,” I said. My wrists shook as I showed her the book. “Can you see that?”

She scanned the pages. “Hunter, w-what is this about?”

In my panic to show her the words I hadn’t written, I’d forgotten about the ones I had.

My heart dropped. The journal fell out of my hands. Now actually on the verge of passing out,  I sank down onto the couch.

“Hunter,” Luz said, her voice breaking. “What is that about?” She pointed at the journal. “When did you write that? You need to tell me.”

I put my face in my hands and shook my head. “Nothing,” I muttered. “It’s nothing.”

“It very obviously isn’t nothing! I-I need to know what you mean. W-What are you trying to forget? Are you—did he—Hunter, you’re scaring me. That really fucking scares me. What do you mean you were his body? Hunter? Hunter!?”

Still shaking my head, I pressed my nails into my scalp. I couldn’t respond. There was nothing I could say to that. I couldn’t explain.

“Hey, hey, don’t—” she sat down and put her hand over mine. “Don’t do that. I’m sorry. I thought you were showing me. But I-I can’t pretend I didn’t read that.”

I didn’t know what all she’d read. I couldn’t remember what all was on those two pages. I knew it was too much. I wrote too much. I never thought anyone would actually see any of this. 

“I’m scared,” Luz said. “Hunter, are you going—is he—”

I covered my mouth with my hand. 

“What does ‘making it stop’ means?”

I thought about the rope and the bruises on my throat.

“‘Cause you’re not allowed to fucking kill yourself, you know?”

I thought about the water and the life being ripped out of my body.

“And I’m pretty sure we both met our ‘dying’ quota for the year, right?”

I thought about the orbs of light floating away from me when I woke up.

“I know it hurts. But if I have to stay here, so do you.”

Flapjack give Hunter second chance. Hunter stay.

“Please, Hunter.”

I shut my eyes, leaned over and put my head on her shoulder. She put her arms around me. I let her hold me.

“I’m trying,” I whispered. “I-I am trying.”

Luz rubbed circles on my back. “I know. I know.”

“I don’t know why it still hurts. I don’t know why it hurts so bad.”

“It’s gonna be okay.”

“I was okay. I thought I could be better. Then he—he—” I stifled a sob. “And I just, I-I hate myself so much.”

“I love you,” Luz said.

I exhaled. “Why?”

“Because I do. Because you’re you. Because you’re family.”

You’re the only family I have left. I love you, Hunter.

A chill went down my spine. Luz pulled back to look at me.

“What’s wrong?”

“Luz,” I said. “Can you hand me the journal?”

She reached down and grabbed it. “Do you need a pen or something?”

I took it and flipped back to that page. I pointed at the last words written in smeared ink.

“I didn’t write that,” I said, my voice hoarse. “The sentence at the end.”

She looked from my eyes to the words and back. She frowned like she already know the answer to her question. “Then who did?”

I explained some of what I had been seeing and hearing. She was already freaked out by what she’d read in here, but learning how intense the encounters(?) have been freaked her out more. I didn’t even tell her the worst of it. I said I wanted to try the memory photos to see if they would help me figure out what’s actually happening. And that was mostly true.

The next day, she sat beside me in the Owl House and (for the third time that day) asked if I was sure I wanted to do this.

“Yeah,” I said. “We have to figure out what’s going on, right?”

She furrowed her eyebrows. “You’re not just doing this so you can destroy the memories, are you?”

I blanched. “No,” I said unconvincingly.

“Right, right.” She nodded. “Because based on what I accidentally read, there’s definitely nothing you desperately want to forget.”

“You weren’t supposed to read that,” I said through gritted teeth. “So you can’t bring it up.”

“This isn’t a court of law, nerd,” she said. “I’m sorry I read it but I did and it happened and I can’t just forget that I read it.”

“I’m not actually going to do it.”

“Good. Because messing with memories has a chain reaction you do not want to deal with.”

I glanced at entry to the kitchen, thinking of Willow as she looked over the makeshift photo lab. “So I’ve heard.” They’d told me about what Amity tried to do to Willow’s memories, and how Amity and Luz had to go into Willow’s mindscape to fix it.

Being reminded of that is the main reason I decided not to mess with any of the photos. For now.

Pulling photos out of my ears was overly invasive enough on its own. The idea of anyone going into my mindscape was ludicrous. I would rather die—although, that isn’t a high bar at this point.

“Ready when you are!” Willow called from the kitchen.

Luz gave me another worried look.

“I’m fine,” I told her. “Promise.”

Eda greeted me in the doorway. “Alright, kiddo,” she said. “We’ve got the little clothesline for the photos set up behind that curtain.”

“That way they can develop without someone else looking at them,” King added. He wagged his tail and looked up at me with bright eyes.

“Sounds good,” I said.

Willow stood by the table, tweezers and clothespins at the ready.

“Hey,” I said. “Thank you. For doing this. I really appreciate it.”

She glanced at me then back at the tools. “Wouldn’t want just anyone messing with your brain.”

“Definitely not. Thank you.” Stop saying thank you, idiot, I thought.

She pulled the stool forward and told me to sit. “You, uh, you do trust me enough to do this, right?”

The doubt in her voice surprised me. “What? Of course I trust you! Why wouldn’t I trust you?”

“It’s just been a while since I saw you.” She messed with one of her stray hairs. “I miss you.”

Miss you. Present tense. Even though I was right there. “Oh. I-I’m sorry.” 

“No, don’t apologize. I understand.” She picked the tweezers up and wiped them with a white cloth. “Is it okay if I touch your head?”

“Yeah.”

I’d tied my hair in a bun to make it easier to get to my ears, and I had thoroughly washed it the night before. If Willow was going to be up close and personal with my scalp I figured it should at least be clean. 

She stood over me and placed her hands on either side of my head, gently tilting it to one side.

“You’ve never done this before, right?” she asked.

“Uh, no,” I said.

“It’s pretty weird the first time. I’ll talk you through the process, okay?” She tilted my head to the other side. “Start thinking about the moment you want the photo of. You can’t control what the tweezers will pull, but you can guide them toward the memory you’re looking for.”

“Right.” I mostly knew that.

“It might tickle the insides of your ear but it should never hurt.” She moved her hands away and leaned over to look me in the eyes.  “If it hurts, tell me and we’ll take a break. It’ll help if you stay still.”

I’d watched Willow clean the tweezers, felt her hands on my head, and now she was telling me to be still. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat.

“Good to get the wiggles out before we start,” Willow said brightly.

“Ha ha, yeah,” I squeaked, forcing a smile. 

She asked if I had any questions or needed anything before we started. I just wanted to get it over with. Eda and King had left the room, supposedly for peace and quiet. I wished I had Sprig or Snow with me.

Willow tilted my head to the left and then set her hand beside my right ear to keep it steady.

“Okay, Hunter. Just hold still, keep breathing, and think about the memory you want to see.”

Stringbean. Kitchen. Belos. I felt my ear twitch as Willow inserted the tweezers. I tried to conjure the image of what I saw that night. 

“Got one,” she said. I clenched my jaw as she drew out the photo. My ear twitched again. Willow handed me the picture and a clothespin. I reached over and hung the undeveloped photo on the line behind the curtain. I watched as the image came into focus, but as soon as the bright purples and blues appeared, I knew it wasn’t what we were looking for.

It was a photo from the night Stringbean hatched and met all of us. She and the other palismen are a few yards away, crawling all over Camila while my friends stand by and watch.

“Oh,” I said.

“Did we get it?” Willow asked.

“Not yet.” I turned back and tilted my head again.

The next photo we pulled was of a night in the Nocedas’ kitchen. One of the first nights. In the photo, I’m lying on my back on the counter as Camila cleans the gashes on my stomach and chest. My eyes are glazed over, staring at nothing. I hadn’t thought about that night in a while.

“You doing okay?” Willow gave me a look that wasn’t quite worry. Concern, I guess.

“Yeah,” I said. “Let’s keep going.”

The next photo was slightly harder to get out than the first two. As Willow pulled it out, it hurt, but only a little bit. A poke instead of a tickle. I assured her that I was fine and hung the photo up.

The familiar green glow of palisman blood developed first. I tensed—maybe this was what we were looking for, or maybe it was something worse.

I saw my uncle— Belos in the throne room, halfway between his regular body and full curse. He’s crushing a palisman over his head; the blood leaks into his eyes, nose, and mouth. I’m beside him in my full Golden Guard uniform, holding a bundle of palisman staffs. 

I shuddered and flipped the photo around so I wouldn’t have to look at it either.

Stringbean. Noceda kitchen. Hand on my throat, I thought as I turned my ear up for the fourth photo. Focus, Hunter.  

The next photo was of me and you, Flapjack. I’m smiling and talking to you as we walk through the snow—the first time I was able to understand you. The first time I heard your name.

I guess that photo distracted me, made me think about you instead of Stringbean.

The fifth photo scratched the inside of my ear. I stayed still, though. I didn’t flinch. Willow passed the photo and I waited.

I stiffened and flipped it away from me as soon as I recognized it. It was that night at Hexside. Rope around my neck. Eyes half closed. My face is covered in dirt and blood. You are furiously pecking at the rope, nearly all the way through. 

No one else knows about that. No one needs to. Even if they did, they definitely don’t need to see a photo of it.

I swallowed hard and resisted the urge to touch my throat. “Not yet,” I said. “Let’s keep going.”

“Okay…”

The sixth photo scraped, almost burned on the way out. It shook in my hands as I waited.

The image is one that flashes through my mind every time someone mentions you or Halloween. No matter how much I tried to avoid talking or writing or thinking about it.

My arm—not my arm—unnaturally outstretched. 

Outstretched fingers sharpened into daggers. 

Daggers, straight through your body. 

Your body, bleeding.

“Flapjack…” I said below a whisper.

My chest hurt. My scars burned.

I hung it up facing away from me. I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m so sorry.

“If it’s too much, we can stop,” Willow said. “You don’t have to do this.”

In response, I put my head back in position. “Keep trying,” I said, fighting to maintain composure.

She took a deep breath as she reinserted the tweezers. I braced for another sting, but the photo slipped out with a flick that made me shiver.

It was a moment from one of the nights in the last week. In the basement. I’m curled up on the bed. He’s there. Sitting behind me, fingers combing through my hair, smiling. My eyes are closed but I’m smiling too, just barely.

My stomach tightened as I started to turn it away from me. But as I did, the image changed. He changed. He shifted from the shape of my uncle to that monster. The curse. Green slime. Sharp hands. Covered in eyeballs.

“What?” I brought it closer to my face and tilted it back and forth. It shifted back and forth, one angle showing the monster hunched over me, the other showing my uncle stroking me hair. Nothing else in the photo changed.

“Is that the one?” Willow asked.

That one would’ve worked as proof as much as one of the kitchen scene we were looking for, but the idea of someone seeing that, seeing me curled up in front him like a dog, made me sick.

Slowly, I shook my head and placed the photo on the line. “Getting closer,” I said.

“One more and then we take a break,” Willow said. “No arguing.”

I turned my ear up. One more.

I clenched my fists as she pulled it out, pressed my nails in as the photo nicked the inside of my ear.

“Oh my gosh!” Willow panicked, dropping the photo. “You’re bleeding! I’m so sorry, oh my gosh.” She put the tweezers down and grabbed the rag she used to clean them. She put it over my ear and told me to hold it and then went looking for something in the cabinets.

“It’s fine,” I said flatly. “Just a paper cut.”

Then I glanced at the picture that had fallen to the floor. Blood had stained one of the corners. Okay, more than a paper cut. I held the rag and waited for the image to develop.

We’d found what we were looking for.

That night in the kitchen. His hand is wrapped almost all the way around my neck. In his other hand, he squeezes Stringbean over my face. His grin stretched just a little too far.

I grabbed the photo off the floor and tilted it back and forth. Like the other one, his form shifted from uncle to monster.

“That’s it,” I said.

“Really?” Willow turned to me. “Can I see? Or should I get Luz? Eda?”

“No, you should look at this.” I stood up and showed it to her, turning it so she could see the shifting. “Have you ever seen a photo do this before?”

She tensed when she saw it. She slowly reached out and I handed it to her. As she turned it in her hand, I waited for her to react to the strange effect of the photo itself.

“When was—this looks recent,” she said. “Oh my gosh. I’m so sorry, Hunter.”

It probably should’ve occurred to me that maybe seeing a photo of my neck getting crushed would upset her. Maybe I should’ve shown the one from my room instead of the one where he’s strangling me. At least he’s not attempting murder in that one.

And this is why I don’t want people seeing the photos. I took it back from her. “That’s not the point,” I said. “Can you see it shifting back and forth? Do memory photos usually do that?”

“I-I don’t know,” Willow said. “I mean, yes, I see it. But I’ve never seen it happen before. Are you okay?”

“Maybe Eda knows…” I walked towards the living room and leaned in the doorway. “Guys,” I said to Eda, King, and Luz. “Do any of you know what the fuck is up with this photo?”

I ignored the look on Luz’s face when she saw the image. I pretended not to see how worried or sad King’s eyes got. Eda’s expression remained neutral. She took the photo out of my hand and tilted it like I had.

“Well. Don’t like that.” she said. 

“Really? I thought it was a nice photo,” I droned.

She narrowed her eyes at me. “Very funny.”  She held the photo in front of me. “Which one did you actually see that night?”

“The, uh, non-goopy, non-eyeball version?”

She looked at the image again. “...It wasn’t the elixir.”

“I already told you that,” I said. “And you—” I pointed at Luz “both of you—didn’t believe me.”

“I’m sorry, kiddo,” Eda said. “And I’m going to help you figure out what’s up with this photo and why or how this is happening.”

“Great,” I said. “Good luck. ‘Cause that’s what I’ve seen every night for the last week, and I sure as fuck don’t know what’s going on. It’ll be nice to have a second opinion.” I turned back towards the kitchen.

“Hunter,” Luz called after me. “We want to help you. You know that.”

“Yeah, I know,” I said. “I’m taking my memories and going home. Let me know if you magically figure out what’s wrong with me.”

In the kitchen, Willow was sitting and staring at something on the table.

“Hey, so, what do I do with all those?” I asked. I wasn’t trying to be brusque, I was just aching to get out of the house. “Besides not burn them?”

Willow wiped her eyes before facing me. She’d been crying. 

Fuck. First time I’d seen her in over a month and I’d already made her cry. “Sorry,” I said. “I-I didn’t mean to—”

“Here.” She picked up what she’d been staring at: a large light blue envelope. “This will keep the photos safe.” She did not meet my eyes as she handed it to me.

I glanced at the curtain where my memories hung. “Thanks again, Willow.”

“No shenanigans with these, okay?” she said. “I know it’s tempting to want to get rid of the bad stuff, but you can’t get rid of that without damaging the good stuff.”

“Right,” I said unsure if the good stuff was good enough to make the bad stuff worth keeping. “No shenanigans.”

“I’ll see you later, Hunter. Don’t be a stranger.”

I paused halfway through putting the second photo in the envelope. “Huh? How could I be a stranger if we already know each other?”

“I mean, it’d be nice to hang out with you again. For you to hang out with all of us.” She laced her fingers together. “I still want to be your friend.”

“Oh, yeah.” I haven’t exactly been the most fun person to be around. I put the rest of the photos in the envelope. “Sorry. It’s, uh, pretty hard to be here.”

By here I technically meant the demon realm.

“Right, of course,” she said. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, Willow,” I said quietly. “You know that, right?”

She shrugged. “Hard to know much of anything with you anymore.”

That stung.

“Well, it’s not,” I said. “It’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong. There’s a lot of reasons why I don’t want to be here, but you’re not one of them.” Impulsively, I put my hand on her shoulder, aware that I was being overly intense but unable to shut myself up. “I need you to know that.”

“O-Okay,” she said, meeting my eyes for only half a second. “I believe you.”

“Okay.” I stepped back and cleared my throat. “I’ll, uh, I’ll see you later, Captain.”

I trudged out, pain pricking the back of my head. Luz followed me out and around to the portal door.

“Not talking about it,” I said as the door activated.

She put her hands up. “Not asking you to.”

“So did Eda just send you to babysit?”

“Do you need to be babysat?”

We went through the door and down the steps of the shack.

I scoffed. “That’s what everyone else seems to think.”

“We just want you to be safe!” Luz kept up with my stride. “And I don’t want you to have to see that again.”

My face scrunched up. “Gee, thanks.”

“Come on, Hunter,” she said. “We can work this out together.”

“Yeah, right. Because you’re so good at working things out for other people.” I clenched my fists. “You always know what’s wrong and how to fix it—and I’m your favorite project, right?”

“What? Of course not!”

The house came into view and I got even more tense. “That’s what it’s always been for you. Ever since you met me, I’ve been the bad but sad boy you needed to rescue with the power of friendship. You saw my fucked up face and decided you had to save me from my abusive evil dad because you’re such a good guy.” As we reached the front door, I leaned on the wall and turned to her, my arms and legs shaking. “But you can’t fix this with family or pep talks. Thanks for trying, though! It was a noble effort.”

I stormed inside before she could process enough to react. Before I could process enough to regret it. 

I slammed the basement door, gripped the railing hard on the way down before collapsing at the bottom.

Everything hurt. My head, my scars, the wound in my side. My breaths heaved and shuddered. A scream clawed out my throat. I bit down on my wrist to muffle the sound. 

Then I felt a hand on my shoulder. I threw my elbow back, fighting instincts kicking in. 

“Do not FUCKING TOUCH ME!”   I screeched, scrambling back and attempting to get on my feet.

“Fuck! I’m sorry!” Luz said.

Not Belos. Luz.

I fell on my ass and backed up against my bed. I grabbed my right wrist and held it to my chest, wide-eyed and hyperventilating as I realized what I’d done.

Her nose was bleeding. She held her hands over her face, crying as she looked down at me, afraid.

I shook my head. “No. No. Luz. I-I’m sorry.” 

She stepped back against the wall, blood on her hands.

“I-I didn’t—I thought—you—Luz, I—”

“No, no,” she said with a step to the side. “I shouldn’t’ve done that. I-I’m gonna—I’ll be right back.” She sprinted up the stairs and the door slammed shut behind her.

I pulled my knees to my chest and buried my face in my arms. Sobs tore through my chest, lungs tightening like my ribs were closing in around them. I cried and hyperventilated and screamed. I didn’t stop or look when I felt the bed shift behind me.

I wanted him gone. I wanted him to hold me. I wanted to never be touched again. I wanted him to say he loves me. I wanted to die.

I sat there, screaming and sobbing, throat ripping from the inside, tears and snot and spit on my face and arms.

“You realize now, don’t you?” he said, his voice cutting through the sounds flooding out of my chest. “They won’t help you. The humans, that basilisk, certainly not the witches attempting to defile you.”

I bit my hand and screamed. 

“Only I can help you, Hunter. I created you.”

No no no no.

“Oh, yes. You know this is true.”

I grabbed my hair and pulled.

“Do you not want my help? Is that not what you asked for?” He leaned down close to my face, his breath heavy against my hands and ear. “What you begged for?”

I shook my head. No. No. No. No.

He grabbed my wrist and pressed his fingers into my pulse. Ink-black slime leaked from his fingertips.

His hands weren’t near my throat, but I felt myself start to choke.

“Use your words, Hunter.” He pulled my hand back and held it against his cheek. “Tell me no.”

I opened my mouth and gagged. My stomach turned and tightened. My hand sweat against his face.

“Hmm?” He pressed his lips against the palm of my hand. “Speak up, child.”

Acid rose in my throat. I shut my mouth and tried to swallow, but the bile forced its way out through my nose. I sputtered and gagged, unable to speak.

“Pathetic.” He stood, pulled me up by my wrist, and shoved me onto to the bed. 

I coughed dark bile onto the blankets and started to curl in on myself. He grabbed my face and forced me to look at him.

“You will never forget,” he hissed, spitting on my face. “As long as you’re alive you will always be mine.”

He grabbed my elbows and held me down on my back. I kicked my legs out, tried to push myself back or get him off of me, but he didn’t budge. 

What are you doing to me? I searched his face for—I don’t know, mercy? Any emotion at all?

He just sneered at me. Eyes devoid of light. 

“You are mine, Hunter.”

My face and hands went numb. My ears rang. I stopped kicking and squirming. I shut my eyes and waited.

“That’s right, Hunter,” he lilted. “Just hold still.”

There was nothing else I could do. Couldn’t get away. Couldn’t speak or scream or beg. Could only hold still and wait for him to

The basement door opened.

“Hunter? Are you—” Luz stopped mid sentence and whatever she was carrying broke on the stairs. “WHAT THE FUCK?!” 

The weight of his body pulled away. Luz jumped over the railing and landed on the floor as he melted into it. In my peripheral vision, I saw her look wildly around the room like she was about to fight him with her bare hands.

“That’s what you’ve been seeing!?” Luz yelled. “Holy shit! Holy shit.”

My breaths were shallow as the feeling returned to my body like needle pricks. I stared at where his face had been, the ceiling beams above swirling in my vision.

Luz was pacing the room and swearing in ways she could’ve only learned from Eda. 

I curled up on my side facing the wall, crossing my legs and grabbing at the fabric of my shirt. I touched my face. My lips and chin were crusted with dry vomit.

“Hunter,” Luz said, her voice lowering as she caught her breath. “Ohhh my god. Hunter. Did it hurt you? Hunter?”

No. No. No one…no one is supposed to know…no one is supposed to see. No one. No one. No one.

“Please, say something!” she cried.

Use your words.

I tried. I tried to tell her that no, he didn’t hurt me. No blood. No broken bones. Bruises at worst. But I only managed to whimper.

Pathetic.

I gripped the blankets to keep from putting my fingers in my mouth.

“Mom is on her way home,” Luz said. “It’s gonna be okay. I-I’m here now, and I’m not leaving again. I’m sorry, Hunter. Fuck. I’m so sorry.”

I was still breathing, for some reason. There were tears on my face; I’d started crying. My nose was running, bringing back the smell and taste of my vomit. I nearly threw up again.

“I-I shouldn’t’ve left you,” she said. “You said it’s worse when you’re alone and I fucking walked out.”

I swallowed and closed my eyes. “Not your fault,” I whispered. Mine. Besides, she’d been right to leave, considering I’d nearly broken her nose.

“Maybe, but I’m not gonna let it happen again.” She started muttering under her breath, “Fucking slimy eyeball goop freak…Always those fucking eyes…”

Oh. She hadn’t seen what I saw.

She hadn’t heard any of it.

She didn’t know.

She kept pacing until the sound of the front door interrupted. Camila called both our names. Luz yelled for her to come down here.

When Camila came down, my head started buzzing. My face and hands tingled. Their voices sounded distant and unfamiliar, like they’d changed somehow. I closed my eyes and felt like I was going to sink into the ground. The conversation faded in and out; I only caught half of what Luz was saying. Camila’s voice barely came through at all.

He got upset…to grab some ice…not that long…on top of him…Belos?...but it looked all cloudy and…no, he…don’t know…hurt or…what he was doing…got upset…ice…on top of him…Belos…hurt…hurt…hurt…

I fell asleep like that, curled up, drenched in sweat, still covered in vomit, wondering how I’ll kill myself.

I dreamed that I was buried alive. Suffocating. Drowning.

Maybe it’s a sign.

Hunter

Chapter Text

Dear Flapjack,

It’s strange to be sleeping in here again. Well, not sleeping. Sitting in between mine and Luz’s mattresses, writing by the moon and starlight coming through our window, waiting.

Luz and Amity are asleep. Amity is holding Luz like she’s afraid they’ll float away from each other. It’s sweet, actually. The first thing I ever learned about Amity is how hard she’ll fight to help Luz. Granted, I learned this because she was fighting me, but I did deserve it. That might be part of why I decided it would be her to go with Luz. She’s strong and she’s smart and she’ll protect Luz, even from me, if it comes to that.

King is curled up on my bed, surrounded by Sprig, Snow, some other plushies, and Stringbean and Ghost. He blends right in with them, aside from his size. When first I learned that I had trapped a titan in a cage and called him a rat or bird on multiple occasions, I sort of panicked in front of the others. You know, because of the blasphemy. They all laughed at me because, yeah, he might be a titan, but he’s also just King Clawthorne. I was embarrassed, but also relieved. And apparently Amity once stomped on his cupcake, which is almost worse than what I did.

Since what happened last week, Luz has made good on her promise not to leave me alone. Even when she can’t be with me herself, she makes sure there’s someone else in the room with me. Technically, this is so I won’t end up alone with “that monster,” but it has the side effect of keeping me from killing myself. Hasn’t kept me from thinking about it.

I spent a couple of nights sleeping in Luz and Vee’s room. Yesterday I woke up screaming. Camila heard from her room and the three of them stayed up with me until sunrise.

I keep saying I’m sorry. They keep saying they love me.

I don’t know how long they can keep doing this. When are they going to realize I’m not worth it? I’ve been nothing but pain and fear for them, I’m worse than useless. Maybe they won’t realize it until after I’m dead. 

Sorry. I know I’m not supposed to think like that.

I’ve been dying in all my dreams. In one, he’s choking me and then turns his hand into a blade and cuts my throat. In another, he stabs me in the side and my blood comes out black and gooey; then I say thank you the way I was raised to. 

If this doesn’t work, if we can’t fix my mind, then I’m done. Because he’s right. What he wrote in this fucking journal. I do know how to make it stop. I know about a dozen ways to make it stop.

I’m tired, Flap. I’m so damn tired all the time.

When Raine, Eda, and Lilith sat me down in the living room and told me their idea, I laughed. I knew they weren’t joking. I didn’t even think the idea was entirely stupid. It’s just funny because I would never agree to it if I wasn’t already planning on killing myself. What’s the worst that could happen? Who cares! If it’s really that bad, I’ll just die. ha ha ha.

They seemed surprised when I agreed so easily. After laughing in a way that probably came across as somewhat unhinged, I flattened my expression and said, “Sure, why not?”

“Look, kid, I know there’s a lot of reasons—” Eda interrupted herself. “Wait, what did you say?”

“Yes.” I shrugged. “I’ll do it.”

“Oh,” Lilith said. “That was…surprisingly easy.”

Raine squinted at me. “You did hear what we said, right? Should we explain again?”

“You think something—the evenshade poison, probably—got to into my brain or my mindscape or whatever and started manifesting as Belos until it somehow found a way to physically manifest, right?” I said. “And so to fix it, someone has to go in there to get it out. Simple enough.”

“Maybe not that simple,” Lilith muttered.

“So, who’re you sending in there?” I asked. “Because you should probably pick someone with a stronger stomach than me. I assume there’s some pretty ‘gnarly shit’ in there.”

The three of them looked at me, then at each other, then back at me.

“Well, it is your mind,” Raine said. “You should be the one to decide. And you can take as much time as you need. You don’t have to decide right away.”

“Luz.” I said. “Obviously.”

“O-kay…” Eda raised one eyebrow at me, speaking for the first time since I’d said yes. “Blondie, are you sure? You don’t want to, I don’t know, think about it? At all?”

I clenched my fists, my throat tightening. I’m not sure if I was angry or about to cry. “I want this to stop,” I said. “Okay? As soon as possible.”

Eda was quiet for the rest of the conversation. Raine and Lilith said someone else should probably go with Luz, for safety and all that.

It was easy to choose Luz. For one, she’s had experience in mindscapes before. Anyone can read about theory and research, but there’s a lot of shit books can’t prepare you for—I know that first hand. And, as proven earlier this week, she knows more about my past than anyone else. 

I thought through my options of who could go with her. Raine said it might be good to have an adult go with Luz, but the only adult I’d ever consider letting in there is Eda, and she has to stay on this side to monitor the spell. 

I couldn’t bear the thought of putting Gus through that, or of Willow seeing what I really am. It’s stupid, selfish that I still want her to like me. But I’m stupid and selfish. I thought about asking Vee, but she’s been through enough of Belos’ torture; she deserves the peace she’s found at home. 

Aside from Luz, Amity is the only one with mindscape experience, and she would go with Luz anywhere. I figured there was a decent chance she would say yes. Mainly, I asked for Amity because she’s the only one who doesn’t give me that look when I talk about my past. She’s not the warmest person, and I actually appreciate that sometimes. I know Luz is just trying to help, but sometimes she asks a few too many questions. Amity doesn’t pry.

Don’t get me wrong. Luz is helping. Her plan of never leaving me in a room by myself is working. He doesn’t appear when anyone else is with me.

He still talks to me, though.

They’re not going to tolerate you forever.

When they realize how useless you are, what will you do then, Hunter? 

Will you come crawling back to me? 

It hurts me to see you in pain. I’m only trying to help you, Hunter.

They can never love you how I do. I made you, Hunter. 

Look at how disgusting you’ve made yourself.

I can help you be clean again.

I know you miss me.

You know I love you.

You’re mine.

You’re mine.

YOU’RE MINE.

It hasn’t stopped. I’m starting to think it never will.

One of the nights in the basement, when I was certain Luz was asleep, I lied down on my stomach and wrapped my hands around my throat. I nearly made myself black out, but the thought of Luz waking up to that made me let go. As I rolled onto my side, I heard him say, Don’t you think she’d be relieved?

“No,” I whispered. “She loves me.”

Perhaps, he said. She might love you in the way one loves a dog that needs to be put down.

I didn’t really remember him saying that until I was in therapy the next day. Beatrice had brought the sand box again. Not sure if I said anything before she suggested telling a story. I couldn’t speak at first, just aimlessly messed around with some of the pieces. Then I stood the hourglass up in the sand and buried the wolf pup like I had before.

“So you know how wolf pup died last week?” I asked, voice hoarse.

“I remember,” Beatrice answered. 

“Plot twist!” I grabbed him out of the sand. “He’s alive again!” I put him in front of the hourglass. “Guess what, time thingy! I’m alive again!’ he said. But time thingy wasn’t excited. Time thingy looked at him like he was a box of rotten fruit they’d forgotten to eat and then they walked away.”

I grabbed a couple of random objects from the box—a rock with a face painted onto it and a plain wooden piece that looked sort of like a bigger version of the pieces from that Sorry! game Gus tried to show me.

“Wolf pup went to see his friends rocky and woody. ‘Hey rocky and woody! I’m not dead anymore!’ But rocky and woody didn’t look at him at all. ‘It’s too bad,’ woody said. ‘I really thought wolf pup was going to get over it and be normal, but now he’s dead.’ And then rocky said, ‘At least he won’t be able to bite anyone anymore.’”

I parted the sand to reveal a line of the blue box underneath. “Wolf pup went to the river to look at his reflection, but he couldn’t see anything. There was nothing there. He howled and cried but nobody heard him—or maybe they did hear him, and they just pretended not to because they assumed he was just going to die again.” I grabbed the dragon figure. “Then the big scary wolf dragon showed up and grabbed wolf pup.

“‘What are you doing?’ wolf pup asked. The big wolf answered and said, ‘I’m here to help you.’ Wolf pup whimpered pathetically, and then big wolf ate wolf pup and spat out the bones.”

I stuck the wolf toy into the sand head first and then hit it with the dragon. I dropped the dragon on top of it, glancing at Beatrice to see how she would react. Her eyebrows were furrowed and her eyes were trained on the box.

Again, I picked up the dragon and hit the wolf pup. Over and over, I banged the dragon against the wolf. I wanted to break it. The dragon or the wolf, it didn’t matter. I just needed something to break. When I realized they were both going to stay intact, I yanked the wolf pup out of the sand and hurled it against the wall.