“Are you feeling better?”
Fallen asked as he stepped back from the shivering form of their new companion. He’d shown up in a torn-up shirt and pants, with the remnants of an old jacket clinging to his arm. He shook like a leaf and his skin was cold to boot. Fallen and Dinn had led him over to the couch where he now sat, wrapped in a fluffy white blanket, and holding a piping hot cup of what they wanted to be tea in between his small hands.
“Yes, thank you.”
He said, taking a slow careful sip of the scalding liquid. Fallen had told Dinn to go find Creed not too long ago. He thought it would be better if he met their new friend for himself. Even though the stranger had barely spoken since he arrived, Fallen knew he had to be another Creed. Despite their differences, Fallen, Daemon, and Dinn had found some odd common ground that linked them all together. Something that let them know that this other person could know them more than the others. They had felt familiar. But this stranger? He was much too different from himself and the others to be another Dinn. He had to be their first alternate Creed.
That’s not to mention the small antlers that were jutting out of his head on each side. His right one was badly damaged with only half of it remaining. The end was crooked and uneven, giving the effect that it was taken by force.
“So…”
Fallen cleared his throat.
“What’s your name?”
The stranger smacked his lips, swallowing the small bit of tea he managed to slurp up.
“Creed. What’s yours?”
Ah, so he was right.
“I go by Dinn in my own world, but here everyone calls me Fallen.”
“Why’s that?”
This Creed looked at him oddly, as odd as one could look at someone without their eyes. Fallen chuckled scratching at the back of his neck nervously.
“When I got here there was already a Dinn and a Creed. So, we decided to give everyone else who came here a nickname to make it easier.”
It’s amazing the number of things Fallen had had to get used to upon living here. Never going by his own name was one of the major ones. Not to mention the number of times he would still find himself responding to a call for “Dinn!” when it wasn’t for him.
“There’s another Creed here?”
This Creed pressed.
“Yeah, Creed is very welcoming. I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about with him, despite how weird it may seem to have another ‘you’ in the room.”
Fallen replied in an attempt to laugh off the awkward question.
“Right.”
His voice had suddenly gone very low. His head dipped down and away from Fallen. The hands around his cup pressed tightly against it as his whole body went rigid. Was he scared? Fallen himself had felt apprehensive when he first arrived in The Infinity, but not really scared. Maybe he was just nervous then? Nervous about meeting Creed.
Fallen had to admit the two were different in some ways already. Creed may seem shy and apprehensive at first, but after speaking with him, and hearing how heavy his voice can get, Fallen understood the weight of his words and how serious he can be when he speaks. This Creed’s voice was low and airy. It sort of floated away as soon as it arrived, as if it didn’t want to be heard in the first place.
At the same time Fallen felt apprehensive about this new Creed. He’d imagined that every new Creed they met would send him spiraling down further into grief and sorrow for the one he lost. He thought they’d all make him long for them the same way he longed for his lost Creed. But the only one to manage that so far was Creed. It might be too early to tell but Fallen somehow knew that this Creed would never be his. And likewise, he could never be theirs. Even as they sat across from each other, trying to break the ice and open up to one another, Fallen found himself merely waiting for Creed.
Which he thankfully didn’t have to wait too long for.
--------
Creed stood awkwardly in the doorway. Dinn had led him into their shared living room where Fallen and a new stranger sat. It wasn’t hard to tell from a quick glance that this stranger was supposed to be another him. For days he’d tried to build up the mental fortitude to be able to face another him, but when presented with his doppelganger, he didn’t know what to think. Especially when said doppelganger looked so small and frail. They shared a similar hair color, with this man’s being a faded orange much like some of Creed’s own highlights. Their horns were also very similar, though this man’s were chipped and broken in several places. Even the markings across his hands read similar to his own.
Creed found himself staring for an uncomfortable amount of time, before Dinn elbowed him in the ribs to bring him back to reality. Quietly he cleared his throat and stepped forward.
“Hello. And who might you be?”
This other Creed didn’t answer. He merely dipped his head away from Creed’s voice with a frown plastered to his face. Without being able to see his eyes Creed couldn’t tell if he was nervous, sad, or angry.
“Creed this is…Creed. We haven’t really figured out a nickname for him yet.”
Fallen chuckled, standing up to greet Creed as he entered. He looked back towards where Dinn and Daemon stood as if looking for some help to make their situation a bit less awkward.
“He just kind of showed up a bit ago. We thought it’d be best for everyone to meet up quickly.”
Dinn responded taking a few steps closer, but not as close as Creed.
Creed thought for a moment, looking back at the stranger on their couch he approached closer. Setting himself down on the coffee table that stood just in front of the couch he was finally able to get this man’s attention as his head shot up at the sound of his steps.
“That’s alright. I can imagine ending up here can be pretty disorienting. I know it was for all of us.”
Creed said with a smile on his face. He thought it might seem ridiculous to smile at a man who can’t see him, but he hoped that he wouldn’t come off aggressive to their new companion.
The man went rigid in his seat, scooting backwards in his chair till he touched the back of the sofa. His whole body leaned far away from Creed and his head turned decidedly toward the side. Creed may not be able to tell what this man is thinking, but he knows the body language of someone who is immensely uncomfortable with his close proximity to know to move.
Standing from his seat he took a few steps away from the other.
“So, where do you come from?”
Creed pressed. It was odd not getting a response from him. Was this how Fallen and Daemon felt when they first met? Is this how Dinn felt the entire time they were together?
Looking over at his flat mates a lightbulb seemed to go off in Creed’s head. Seeing the others awkwardly looming close by and staring at the two of them, Creed could feel that tension roll over him like a wave. This must seem too intimidating, like the four of them were trying to interrogate this smaller man. Even to someone who couldn’t see, he imagined he could feel all eyes on him.
“Dinn and I come from the same world.”
Creed spoke up a bit louder. Dinn seemed to snap out of his reverie to look over at him. Creed gestured pointedly for him to come closer. With a knowing look Dinn spoke up as well.
“Yeah, we kind of got dragged here by some…thing, so that’s how we got here first.”
Dinn said chuckling to himself as he stepped closer, circling the coffee table to stand next to Creed. The other Creed’s head followed him as he walked.
“I’m Dinn by the wa—”
Pausing for a moment Dinn looked over to Fallen with a pensive look on his face. Pointing back and forth between the two of them he asked,
“Do we sound the same?”
“No.”
Both Creed’s spoke in unison. Snapping their attention back to the one on the couch, he quickly ducked his head away from their gaze.
“Your voice is…rough.”
He finally said, his words trailing off quietly.
“Fallen’s voice is definitely deeper. If only by a bit.”
Creed finished, looking back towards the two men. Dinn blinked rapidly at the two of them.
“I don’t know if I should be flattered or insulted by that.”
He chuckled. Fallen’s shoulders went slack as he stepped around the couch to sit across from their new companion once again.
“Maybe a little bit of both?”
He joked, enjoying the light ribbing at Dinn’s expense.
“Oh, come off it!”
Dinn called back, still laughing to himself. Creed smiled as the atmosphere became decidedly less tense. He looked back towards the doorway, catching Daemon’s eye as she lingered in its precipice.
“Daemon, come on in. Introduce yourself.”
He called to her. Daemon ducked her head away from him, seemingly having a conversation with herself. Creed could tell she was uncomfortable, but he didn’t exactly know why. She had acted similarly when they first met, content to watch him from the doorway, but never interact. He wondered if he hadn’t caught her staring back then, would she ever have revealed herself to him?
While Dinn and Fallen were still preoccupied with each other, Creed took the chance to slide over to Daemon. Standing just in front of her he was able to catch her eye again even as they were turned down.
“Come on.”
He whispered, placing his hand on her arm. Something about Daemon was always a bit off. Creed felt that she was ready to run given the chance, but he didn’t know why. As much as he disliked it, she seemed to prefer touch and closeness more than the others. Certainly, more than he did. If it meant living around the other would be easier, he could put up with small touches and perhaps even handshakes. The only thing he was still apprehensive about, was if the others wanted to touch him.
Gingerly Creed pulled Daemon into the room slowly realizing that Fallen and Dinn’s conversation had stopped, and they were both looking at the two of them. Their faces were unreadable, but Creed shook off that thought. He was only concerned about the other Creed in this moment.
Daemon came closer, attempting to step as lightly as she could.
“Hi, I’m Daemon…”
She said as quietly as she could.
“I think my voice is unique enough, right?”
She joked nervously. Shifting her eyes between Creed and this new stranger it was obvious she was too uncomfortable to say more than that. And with the other Creed refusing to speak up any more than he had, Creed surmised that these two weren’t going to be good at conversation.
However, once again lowering his head, the other Creed spoke.
“There’s a lot of you.”
He said, catching Fallen and Dinn’s attention again.
“I guess you could say that.”
Fallen replied.
“Didn’t realize how crowded The Infinity could end up being by the time…”
Fallen’s words sputtered off, but Creed felt like he knew what he was going to say. By the time they found their other halves. Creed almost felt a bit jealous at the idea that any one of their companions could leave of their own volition at any time. While Dinn and himself were left to constantly cycle through more and more alternate versions of themselves until…
Until what exactly?
“If you don’t mind.”
The other Creed said.
“I’d really like to have a room to myself. Is that possible?”
“Of course!”
Fallen said a bit too quickly. Shrinking back a bit sheepishly he turned to Creed.
“Creed could you, uh…find him a room?”
Creed looked over at Fallen a bit strangely. Sure, he and Dinn had been the ones to stay here the longest and knew the area a bit better than the others, but surely Fallen knew that rooms were just created on a whim. Any one of them could lead this man anywhere in the house to a random room they decided to create. Why was Fallen singling him out to go and find this other Creed a room?
Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
Was it because…?
Did the Dinn’s just want a moment to themselves? Had they all felt too overwhelmed by the sight of a new Creed? Creed sighed. He thought he would end up being the awkward one when facing his doppelganger, but the others were proving to be no help in that department.
“Sure.”
Sidling up to the lone man on the couch Creed extended his arm, slightly brushing his fingers against the smaller man’s shoulder.
“I can help you find a room.”
Huffing quietly the small man stood from his seat, taking a few notable steps to the side. Creed followed him, careful to remind himself that this man couldn’t see him. He kept his movements deliberate and slow as to not scare the other man.
“Hang on. I’ll come with you.”
Dinn called to the two retreating forms. Walking up towards them Dinn still had that odd unreadable expression plastered on his face. Creed found it a little disconcerting to not be able to tell what Dinn was thinking, but he once again pushed it to the back of his mind. Nodding sharply, he turned back to the other Creed who he suddenly found standing in between the two of them. Gently laying his hand on his back he led him out of the room.
-----------
“Tell me what you’re thinking.”
Fallen almost sounded desperate. He had turned towards Daemon just a few moments after the other three departed. Daemon hadn’t been making eye-contact with any of them throughout the entire ordeal. For some reason she didn’t feel like she had the strength to.
“Please, what’s on your mind?”
He pressed. Daemon shook her head. She couldn’t get her own thoughts in order. This new Creed, whatever he wanted to be called, was so weird. He was tiny compared to her. So meek and frail looking. Where had he come from? Did he run away from his world fearing retribution? Was he like the rest of them? Running from something he can’t change?
Still, despite this, all she wanted was to sit next to him and listen to him speak. He barely spoke and didn’t even say a word to her the entire time. Was that because he felt awkward having to meet everyone at once? Or was he scared of them.
“Daemon!”
“I don’t know alright?!”
She shouted back. Quickly slapping her hand over her mouth and straining her ears to hear for any approaching footsteps. The last thing she wanted was to alert the others.
“I don’t know. We’ve barely met him. We’ll have to wait longer to see.”
She said a bit calmer now.
“But you must’ve felt something! Anything at all? When I met Creed, I felt something!”
Fallen insisted. Daemon shook her head a bit disgusted.
“Just because you fall in love at first sight doesn’t mean the rest of us do.”
She said pointedly. This seemed to stop Fallen in his tracks. He lowered himself slowly back onto the couch, refusing to make eye-contact with Daemon. She admitted to feeling a bit bad at her sudden outburst, but what had he expected?
Daemon had seen him following Creed around like a love-sick puppy more than once. She couldn’t understand why he insisted on hurting himself like that. It was obvious that Creed had someone else to fall in love with, and it was doubly obvious that even if he hadn’t, he wouldn’t be interested in either of them.
Looking back down at her hands, Daemon questioned if she was or wasn’t in love with Creed. On any normal day he just seemed like another man in the flat, but today something had changed. Every time he touched her, she felt something stir within her. Even as he scratched her arm with those odd claws of his and the roughness of his skin. A longing she hadn’t known since childhood. A longing to be held. Was that what she was falling in love with? The mere act of touch?
Or was it something more?
-----------
The hand grazing his back was far too warm for his liking. Not to mention that hand was attached to such an insufferable creature.
This man, this Creed, was humming. As he led him down the corridor to some vague area of this house, he was humming? Could he not be quiet for two seconds? Did he really feel the need to make his presence known at all times? How insufferable.
He’d heard it. The way Fallen’s deep voice lilted upwards when this Creed entered the room. Good God, he was already in love with him, wasn’t he? Would he even look at little old him now? With his scars, his uneven hair, and his lack of eyes, where was his chance at love? Fallen had such a beautiful voice. Deep and rich and the way he spoke was so cautious. He wanted him to feel okay with his presence. He hadn’t forced it on him. So why, was he already in love with this one?
What was so special about someone who couldn’t shut up? The humming continued as Dinn’s steps began to match their own. This Dinn was supposed to be with this Creed, right? So why couldn’t they just leave together already and save the rest of them the trouble? Were they going to continue to force their presence on everyone else?
And who was the third one? Daemon, right? Whoever they were he knew that they were very very tall. Irresponsibly so. Even then, why had they chosen to sound so scared of him? As small as he was, he’d never scared anyone in his life! Who would dare be so afraid of him?
Or did they really already decide to not love him either?
How infuriating! He can’t decide upon a glance whether they’re worth his time, but they can decide on a whim that he’s worthless. Unacceptable.
“Alright, this should be a suitable room for you. It’s just in between mine and Dinn’s so it should be safe.”
This Creed said, slightly tugging at his shirt in order to stop the smaller man in his tracks.
“If you ever need anything you can come to either one of us.”
Slipping out of his grip he turned to stare at the two before him.
“Are we the only one’s here?”
He asked. A beat followed his question as he felt their eyes shift between them.
“Yes, it’s just us, Fallen, and Daemon. Why do you ask?”
Creed replied with that lazy faux concern to his voice. Who are you trying to fool? Yourself? Or your partner?
“Don’t you ever feel like you’re being watched?”
He hated to admit it, but that feeling hadn’t gone away since he arrived. He thought he could shrug it off once he met the others, but the feeling only strengthened the further in he went. Like an impending feeling of doom, it latched onto him the moment he walked through that portal.
“Not really. Do you?”
There was that rough voice again. So oddly piercing but dirtied from years of screaming. This Dinn sounded so torn up at all times.
Shaking his head, he decidedly turned away from the two men, grabbing blindly at his door before walking through and kicking it closed. He didn’t need to deal with them anymore. They weren’t his problem.
Finally, alone in his own room that feeling finally left him. Whoever it was that was watching him couldn’t enter his room, the small safe space carved out for himself. The relief was sudden and all encompassing. A wave of cold sweat enveloped his whole body as he slowly slid to the floor. No more eyes. No more watchers. Just silence, and peace. He didn’t even register the pop and sting he’d become so used to just beyond his eyelids. At least until a stream of hot liquid made its way down his cheek. Wiping at it fiercely he knew he’d eventually have to find some way to clean himself up now that he was alone.
Hopefully the red wouldn’t stain his skin.
-----------
Creed and Dinn walked away from their new companion’s door to nowhere in particular. Creed didn’t necessarily want to go back to the living room where Daemon and Fallen were. There was nothing he wanted less than to be around the others at the moment. He still wasn’t sure why Dinn had decided to accompany him. He hadn’t spoken a single word, and he barely even acknowledged he was there. Had he just wanted to get away as well? Did he too feel the incoming panic of what Fallen wanted to talk about with the others?
Taking his steps slow Creed kept glancing over at his shorter companion, hoping to at least catch his eye for a moment. However, Dinn just continued to stare straight ahead, the hard look still sequestered onto his face.
“So.”
Creed finally broke the silence.
“He’s a bit of an odd one, right?”
Abruptly Dinn stopped in his tracks, causing Creed to stumble a bit as he tried to stop at the same time. Looking back towards Dinn he finally caught his eye. The other man was looking up at him with some fierce determination. His jaw sputtered a bit as if he wanted to say something or if he needed to throw up. Creed was glad he had finally grabbed his attention again, but something about his gaze was not at all comforting.
“You, okay?”
He asked. The last thing he needed was for Dinn to be angry again. Creed found that Dinn went off like a rocket when he was angry. Something he wasn’t sure he could handle at the moment.
Deliberately Dinn raised his right hand, fingers splayed outwards as he held it out barely in front of him. He had yet to break eye-contact with Creed. Creed stared at the others hand. What did he want him to do? Did he want a high-five? That was rather unusual. Dinn had never been one for casual gestures like that. So what?
Did he just want Creed to touch his hand?
Oh. Oh.
Creed thought. They hadn’t had any physical contact at all since they hugged a few nights ago. An event Creed didn’t regret, but he also wasn’t up for a redo for. He just hated being touched. But Dinn had seen him touch Daemon, only, that was different. Touching someone else and being touched weren’t the same. Touching someone meant he could decide how soft he wanted to be. Other people touching him brought…pain.
Despite this, Creed looked back into Dinn’s steely gaze. He wasn’t going to let this go. Cautiously Creed began to lift his right hand. This would be alright, right? It was just Dinn. He knew Dinn. And if he touched him than there would be no pain. Dinn wouldn’t hurt him like that, right?
His hand inched slowly closer to the shorter man’s. His breath grew shallow and faraway. Dinn cared about him. He cared about Dinn. They wouldn’t hurt each other so cruelly. If he lost sight of the world around him for a moment, then maybe that was for the best. Creed grew closer, feeling the warmth that radiated between their fingers and then…
Dinn’s hand twitched.
Like a sudden wave crashing violently onto the shore the spell was broken. Creed retracted his hand hurriedly, clutching to his shaking chest. He was going to grab him! Dinn was going to hurt him!
“I’m sorry! I ca—”
“Please I—”
Dinn and Creed both stopped. Creed had already begun backing away, but Dinn quickly kept in pace almost beginning to chase after him. But Creed had stopped. He didn’t want to run. He needed to know if what he thought was true. Was Dinn wanting to hurt him? Clutching his still shaking hand to his chest, Creed wheezed. His breaths coming out in little sporadic pumps. He looked everywhere but at Dinn, shaking his head.
“You…you…”
Dinn’s teeth clacked together as he spoke. His jaw set clenched as he strained to breathe through his teeth. He was angry for sure. And Creed just wanted to run.
“You…touched Daemon…Why?”
Creed had been right after all. Dinn was thinking about his interactions with Daemon. The way he’d pulled her over closer to the group. The caressing of her arms as he stood next to her trying to give her some support. His aversion to touch was new to Dinn, and so far, he’d been consistently rejected for touch. But now, with Daemon, he saw what it was like.
And he was upset.
Creed shook his head.
“We needed the others to be okay with each other. Daemon, Fallen, and the new guy. They need to know each other in order to find love.”
Creed spoke still clawing at his arms.
“She wouldn’t respond to me until I touched her. I didn’t like it any more than she did. It just needed to be done.”
Dinn chuckled humorlessly.
“There you go again. Shutting off your emotions like it’s no big deal!”
Creed could feel the static growing on his clothes.
“Why? Why do you do that? Isn’t living life dependent on other people just a waste of time?”
As soon as it came the static slowly fizzled out. Dinn’s face looked mortified, his mouth gaped like a fish. He was sputtering again, and Creed wasn’t exactly sure why. He was right in a way.
“You think I enjoy it?”
Creed responded dryly.
“If I let my emotions consume me I wouldn’t be able to do anything.”
He said rubbing his arms to try and keep his body from warming up too quickly.
“Things need to get done. This world doesn’t need someone so manic that they can’t solve anything on their own. Figured that out after years of isolation.”
Creed felt so exposed. For so many years after the war ended, he was completely useless. He couldn’t leave his home without falling into a pit of despair. He’d basically abandoned his fellow soldiers for what? Isolation? That feeling burning up inside him until it all bled out. He couldn’t bear the thought of forcing the world to see all of his failures. Every scar a new failure. A wrong he was never able to correct.
Dinn stepped closer, his expression no longer fiercely determined or spitefully vindictive. He looked odd. He looked…sad.
“Creed, I…”
His words trailed off, replaced with a few frustrated grunts.
“Our world really fucked us up! Didn’t it?”
Dinn’s voice carried down the hallway, but his words held no venom. He had to laugh at the thought, or else he’d cry. What had their world molded them into?
“I’ll try to be more understanding of your…issues with touch.”
Dinn said almost robotically. Creed could tell that while he was being sincere, he hated that he had to be. Back in the old day’s Dinn’s expression of love was touch. Caressing his cheek, rubbing his head to help him fall asleep, braiding his hair when they had the time. Every aspect of his love language revolved around touch. Was that still where he was at today?
Creed found himself looking back at Dinn’s hand as it swung by his side. His skin was so badly scarred up. Calluses, scratches, and burns marred his palms. The unevenness of his fingers, probably whittled down after years of the tips being sliced off.
Despite himself Creed found himself reaching forward again, if just too lightly ghost the hard hand. But he did more than just ghost, he brought his fingers around the others, squeezing ever so gently for just a moment. Almost delighting in the way his nails bit against the rough texture.
“I will also try to be more considerate. With or without my…issue.”
The words were there. He wanted to say them, but he couldn’t bring himself to. Dinn didn’t need to know about that pain. As the shorter man watched him, eyes wide in wonder, Creed settled.
Dinn didn’t need to know about those scars.
----------
He didn’t know how long it had been before he heard another knock at the door. He’d simply been reveling in the feeling of being completely isolated. Something he hadn’t realized he needed until he had it. Back home he was always being watched, no matter where he went, what he was doing, or what time of day it was. Here, in his own little bubble, he felt secure.
The knock would have startled him if he hadn’t heard the knocker approaching from a good way away. Was it the irresponsibly tall Daemon, or was it the much softer Fallen? Standing from his position and wiping himself down he turned to his door. Grasping blindly for the doorknob he pulled it open and was greeted with silence.
“Who’s there?”
He finally spoke up, exasperated.
“Ah sorry!”
A deep apologetic voice spoke back to him.
“It’s Fallen.”
Hearing this his mood seemed to perk up just a bit. Fallen. Now he had his full attention! Lucky him it wasn’t Dinn or Creed. He could hear a slight rummaging going on in front of him. Some sort of shuffling that he couldn’t exactly figure out. Was he nervous?
“I actually came by to give you something.”
He found this a little bit odd. A gift, so suddenly, for him? Ringing his hands together he began to sweat. Was Fallen so quick as to shower everyone he met with gifts, or was this something special?
“Could you, uh…hold out your hands for me?”
He asked, that smooth voice coming back in full force. Cautiously he held his hands forward, cupping his palms together, unsure of how exactly he was supposed to receive said gift.
Almost instantly he felt a brush of cool metal pressed against his fingertips. It was a long slender object. Something he needed to grasp with both hands. The metal felt odd, and as he brought it closer to him, he could feel the bottom end slide across the floor with quiet scrape.
“We wanted to apologize at not being able to get this to you sooner.”
Fallen spoke up, this time his deep honey covered voice picking up in volume.
“With everything that happened today I suppose it just slipped our minds.”
He began to tap his fingers on the rounded end of the object. Fallen was sweet, but he was also unbearably slow it seemed.
“What is it?”
He asked trying to match Fallen’s volume but having his voice crack before it could make it. Shit. He sounded horrible!
“It’s a walking cane.”
Fallen responded seemingly oblivious to the other’s mistake.
“We didn’t want you to have to rely on us when you needed to go somewhere. So, we got this cane for you.”
A walking cane?
“What’s that?”
Fallen paused, seemingly sucking in a breath for a moment.
“You…you’ve never had a walking cane?”
He stammered. He merely shook his head. Was it something that he needed? Was it something that was going to help him be more approachable?
Fallen sighed audibly.
“A walking cane is something blind people tend to use so that they can get around easier. Since you are…blind, we thought it was something you’d find useful.”
He then chuckled a bit.
“Though, if you don’t know how to use it, I’m not sure any of us would be able to help you with that.”
He gripped and regripped the handle to this supposed ‘walking cane,’ unsure of how to respond. He imagined it was something that was supposed to help him not run into things, but he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to use it. Did he hold it out in front of him? Swing it? Use it to poke the ground in front of him? What help would it be if he couldn’t make heads or tails of it.
“Ah!”
Fallen perked up suddenly.
“Actually, I think Creed and Dinn might be able to help you! They’ve had to deal with some injuries from the war before so maybe they’re more familiar with canes than we are.”
He gripped the handle to his cane till his knuckles turned bright white. Of course, it had to be those two. He was always being shipped off to someone else for help. Why couldn’t Fallen stay and help him? Oh, how amazing that would be.
“By the way…”
Oh shit, he was still here!
“We never did decide a name for you.”
Oh right.
“I’m sure you don’t appreciate just being called the new guy.”
Fallen shrugged his voice almost lilting beautifully. His name? What should his name be?
“How did you guys get your names?”
He asked, trying to make his voice smooth like Fallen’s. What he wouldn’t give to have a voice like that.
Fallen scratched his head.
“As far as I know, Daemon came up with hers because that’s what they called her back in her original world. Mine was sort of a…team effort.”
There was something ugly hiding in Fallen’s voice as he referred to his own name. Something deep and resentful. He decided not to comment on it since he had more pressing matters.
So, Daemon got her name from what people used to call her back home. How awful to be named a demon. He would have to ask her about that. So, what about him? What was something he was called back home?
Back home where he was always being watched by a man who interrogated his every move. A man who declined his many offers. And yet a man who criticized his every appearance. What had he always called him?
Little one? Too long. Peanut? He wasn’t food. Outsider? That was just in the beginning. Commander? Eh, he never really got used to that one. Thinking harder about it there was one name he had gotten used to over the years. One name he had submitted to for so long. But now, here in this new world, he would use it again as his own. Just for the time being.
“You can call me, Patient.”