He blended into the night so well that Rey didn’t see him at first.
Tonight was like any other night Hell’s Kitchen, New York. Chilly with the remnants of winter and flanked by aging apartment buildings on either side, Rey ignored the usual stench of the alleyway as she kicked open the back door leading to it and hauled out two over-sized trash bags.
Take out the trash, do it in four five trips, go back to her apartment, and crash into bed to get up again at an ungodly hour to start the cycle again. Both her mind and body knew it well as a custodian with several years under her belt in the service of Unkar Plutt, the building’s residence manager. After all, her boss thought all ten floors of the apartment building could be cleaned and maintained by just two custodians. He was right of course. It could be done by two normal humans.
Except Rey wasn’t anywhere close to normal.
“To hell with this.” Rey bit out as she walked furtively towards the dumpster so as not to drip any of the contents down her jeans, arms straining under the weight of two greasy bags. Sweat broke out on her forehead though her unique three bun hairstyle effectively kept the rest of her hair out of the way.
What she wouldn’t give to have super strength right now. But she couldn’t.
Because she had no magic.
As far as Rey knew with what little the city’s education system for non-magical children taught her on the subject, magic was the reason why she had to work for Unkar Plutt. Magic was why she had such an unreasonable workload in a minimum wage job. Magic was also probably why her parents dropped her off at the nearest orphanage and disappeared forever from her life when she was only four years old.
“If only Anna can help.” Rey lamented aloud, refusing to go down the rabbit-hole of her unhappy past any further. She had dwelled long enough on everything, time and reality forcing her to come to terms with the fact that, in the end, she had to survive.
There was no point in hoping for Anna’s assistance. Her co-worker had long lost the capacity to do anything other than keep her age-old body moving. That was another factor in what reduced people to working for Unkar Plutt. Sometimes one didn’t have enough magic. But Anna couldn’t help it. Nobody could outdo the weight of a long life.
The trash had to be emptied out daily and it would have been a much easier task if Rey had been born with the ability to use magic. She could infuse power into her arms and legs and sprint to the dumpster with five or six loads at a time and finish in no more than two trips. But there was no point in complaining about the impossible. These bags of trash weren’t going to move themselves!
Rey had been on her third trip when she heard his voice for the first time.
“Help me.”
She spun so fast her feet slipped from the residue she left behind earlier. “Holy hell!” She gasped sharply before righting herself, and then, peering out into the dark, “Is someone there?”
“You’ve gotta help me.” With a desperate voice, a young black man suddenly stepped out of the shadows and Rey’s heart nearly leaped into her throat.
He didn’t look much older than her and was dressed all in black from his long sleeved shirt with a matching vest to his pants whose legs appeared a bit bulky with what looked like shin guards. He was dressed for battle, was the best way Rey could make sense of it, and he was also incredibly sweaty, as if he’d run a long way.
“What? Is… is someone after you?” Her voice hitching a note higher the only sign of how close she was to being seriously scared. Not necessarily of him, but of what might’ve caused him to run so hard. The tone in his voice also sounded a beat too raw to be fake.
His eyes widened in genuine surprise. Maybe she hit the nail on the head.
“No. I mean yes! I mean- Agh!” He clenched his hands and bowed to collect himself. When he looked back up, he had such a strong hope in his eyes that made Rey almost a little embarrassed to witness.
She wasn’t used to seeing those kinds of expressions in people.
“I need a place to hide,” he said imploringly. Fear seemed to radiate off him in literal waves, his sweat evaporating into whorls of smoke in the cold night, but the look never left his eyes.
Rey considered him then. Really considered him.
He was different from everyone else, that much was certain. Something made him different. But what?
What could possibly make this strangely dressed but otherwise completely normal boy any different from anyone else-
And that was when it clicked.
Rey felt normal around him.
There were no pinpricks or tingles or shivers that came with being around everybody else. She was just her usual, empty self.
Her eyes could barely make out the dried up cut still crusted with blood on his brow threatening to swell his eye shut that she hadn’t noticed before.
The next question that immediately leapt to mind was, Why hasn’t he healed himself yet?
Once, Rey had gotten into a fight with one of the bullies that loved to terrorize the magic-less kids at the orphanage. He’d been an average sized boy who finally hit that age where he had learned how to be a bastard and both tall enough and experienced enough in magic to feel confident in acting the part.
After he’d shoved her so hard, yet coming off so casually because he’d reinforced his hands with magic, that she fell to the ground and Rey had sprung back up in a righteous fury, he’d let her land the first punch.
At first, Rey had felt a surge of triumph as her fist made a resounding thud square in the center of his cheek. But, she should’ve known there was a catch because humans generally learned how to shield themselves at a young age so it should’ve been a warning in and of itself when the bully hadn’t. So, as the skin flushed and swelled from the impact, Rey suddenly found his fist bunched into the fabric of her shirt.
“Nice try.” He’d smirked and Rey was close enough to watch in a mix of horror and fascination as the imperfection of his skin slowly returned to its natural color and then smoothed out completely as if nothing ever happened. “Now it’s my turn.”
Back in the dirty alleyway of hell’s kitchen, Rey saw that the cut was still there, the strange feeling or lack thereof was still present, and that was when it all started making sense.
“You don’t have magic do you.” His visceral shock told her everything she needed to know. “That it. Isn’t it?” A tremendous bout of excitement flushed through her chest. “That’s why you couldn’t heal that wound above your eye!”
That seemed to snap him out of it. “Yes, well it still stings thank you very much.” He quipped. He hesitated afterwards, as if embarrassed that he said what he did.
But, for Rey, whatever tension between them had broken in that moment and, without another thought, she reached out to grasp him gently above the elbow.
“Come with me.”
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The sense of danger tingled down his spine before he even entered the room.
The bodyguard stepped aside and Luca found himself gazing upon a sleek wooden door, freshly finished. The last door had been broken clean through by the previous squad leader’s body. Now Luca stood in his place as he was the next in command and sweat was already beading on his nose and forehead.
He nodded at the other man who nodded back, silently wishing him luck. He’d probably seen his fair share of flying men.
Luca forced himself to stand up a little straight, stepped towards the door, and willed as minutely as he dared a sliver of magic across his entire body. It would be almost impossible to detect while offering him the slightest bit of protection against what was to come.
He pushed the door open and gingerly stepped inside.
A large office desk commanded the room, a black leather chair just behind it.
The chair was empty.
Even more unnerved than he already was, Luca quickly scanned the room for someone. Anyone.
He sensed the presence by the fireplace before he saw anything. Magic weighed down the air around the high-back chair angled towards the flames.
He stepped closer to the orange light.
“Ma’am, Sergeant Luca reporting. I have word on the grunt.”
Steely blue eyes pinned him down as he did his best to stare at her forehead.
Before him sat Phasma Bianchi, one of the greatest magic-users in the family, capo of both the Manhattan and Bronx boroughs. As far as history goes, she was the first woman to wear the rank and currently the only capo they had with the privilege of overseeing more than one borough, an incredibly daunting task in and of itself. Which would explain the severity with which she handled her subordinates, Luca thought.
Silence reigned for several heartbeats. Was she studying him? He didn’t dare lift a finger to wipe away the sweat that trailed down his temple.
“Go on.” Her voice struck him dumb for a moment. It was at odds with her harsh gaze, blanketed with an undertone that made him feel as if he wanted to tell her… well… anything she wanted to know.
“We tracked him down to the vicinity of central park. So far… he has not left Manhattan. We are close to-”
“The boy has no magic.” The words cut through his report like a knife through butter.
Luca met the capo’s eyes in that moment and the barely retrained fury there rocked him with a shudder.
“Are you telling me that some of my best Soldiers cannot track down a mere grunt and a magicless one at that?” The capo rose chose that moment to rise to her full height, a whole head taller than Luca. The weight of her magic pushed ever harder down on his body. “Choose your next words carefully, Sergeant Luca, for I will not tolerate incompetency for much longer.”
“Yes, ma’am, yes, yes.” Luca felt like he was babbling a little at that point. “We will double our efforts to find him.”
Do not fail.
The words pierced his shielded mind, searing its clear threat into the synapses of his head, and Luca grit his teeth at the invasion. Any other magic user and Luca would’ve shrugged off their efforts. Hell, his own soldiers needed to put in some effort. But the woman before him hadn’t so much as blinked, her eyes drowning him in a merciless icy blue.
Dead or alive, bring him to me.
This time Luca could not suppress his shudder as he nodded deeply. And then he turned and all but burst out of the room.
Gods, the power of a capo!
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“She’s getting mad…”
“What was that?” Rey was in the middle of throwing together her lunch when she heard her new roommate mutter something under his breath.
“That Bianchi woman I was talking to you about.” Finn, as he told her to call him, motioned her over to his perch by the single window in the small space that served as a sort of mix between a dining and living room that overlooked the street. “She’s increasing her search force.”
“Is she some sort of head honcho or something?” She joined him at the window. He had explained as much as he could in the past twenty-four hours or so, though Rey’s head was still spinning a little from the onslaught of information that had come out of him. And maybe a little from a lack of sleep since she’d stayed up late into the night listening to Finn’s story.
The mafia, La Cosa Nostra as they refer to themselves… Rey couldn’t believe she was even thinking the words. There were a right handful of others too, names and terms Rey did her best to wrap her head around. Finn had come tumbling out of that world right into her cramped little apartment. That world had everything from soldiers to made men to grunts and captains. Hers had maybe thin walls? What on earth had she gotten herself into?
“Yeah you could say that…” He gestured to a random man walking on the street. “See that one? He’s one of them. You can’t tell just by looking though since there isn’t really a dress code unless w- they go on mission at night.” The correction was immediate, but a grimace still crossed his face as he said it.
Poor Finn, was all Rey could think, though he looked much more ordinary now that he was wearing a matching shapeless, grey sweater Rey had on herself and pair of jeans that she had dug out of a cardboard box at the second-hand shop down the street. The sweaters had also come from a cardboard box. But at a different shop.
Options, Rey mused.
The rest of his gear and clothing was stuffed into the deepest part of her closet where she hoped no stranger would end up searching in the first place.
“But I’ve been with these guys long enough that I can figure them out by how they walk.” He continued, gamely, and pointed to another man trailing not too far behind. “And because they usually go in pairs.”
The unbidden question rose of who Finn’s partner had been or if he even had one, but Rey had a feeling he wouldn’t be willing to answer that just yet. Besides, a grunt, according to Finn, was the lowest of the low in the ranks. There were soldiers and sergeants, all made men, which meant they were a part of the family, which was also just another way to say that they got paid for the work they did.
And then there were people like him, given all the basic necessities of food and shelter but with little to no autonomy of their own until they were eventually deigned worthy enough to become a made man. Who knew if grunts were even allowed partners?
“You’re welcome to stay here, Finn. As long as you need to.” Her voice came out very quiet, but sincere.
The air between them seemed to loosen as Finn slowly raised wide eyes to meet hers and it felt as if a held breath had finally been released.
Their moment of peace didn’t last long.
Loud thumps on the front door startled Rey into action, the wood straining on their hinges.
Rey had the closet door open before Finn was halfway across the room. “Coming!” She hollered back.
The front door opened to reveal a squat, fleshy man whose true age was lost somewhere between his folds. Unfortunately, he was still tall enough that he always used the opportunity to literally look down on her.
“Furnace needs fixin’. Get on it.” Her vile boss hissed.
If Plutt hadn’t been one of the only employers willing to hire her despite her disability, mostly for an excuse to underpay someone, Rey would’ve ended things right then and there and spat into his face.
“Wipe that look off ya face, girly.” He sneered. “You’re lucky I don’t throw ya out to rot.” He paused after that, as if to revel in her reaction, perhaps even waiting for Rey to finally snap so he could evict her like he had done so many others. She just knew his filthy heart probably relished that power he held over their heads.
When Rey kept her expression schooled to show as little disgust as possible, Plutt pursed his lips in what seemed like disappointment. Then he grabbed her door and was about to slam it shut when the most peculiar expression crossed his face.
He stopped midway. “You expectin’ company?” His beady little eyes had landed on the makeshift chair Finn set up at her small dining table.
Her stomach dropped out from inside. “That’s right.” She bluffed, her heart picking up though her face stayed relatively neutral. Or so she hoped. “What’s it matter to you?”
Was Plutt looking for Finn too? Why else would he suddenly care about visitors? It honestly wouldn’t surprise her if he was knee deep in dealings with the mafia.
Rey forced herself to breath normally as Plutt looked on.
“Watch ya tone, girl.” He finally said after what seemed like an eternity of scrutiny, though his eyes narrowed, whether in suspicion or anger Rey couldn’t tell. Probably a bit of both. “Or I’ll putcha on double duty.”
Rey wanted to bite off that she was already doing just that, but thought better of it.
“Yes, sir.” She forced out instead.
Plutt gave her one last nasty look before he slammed her own door in her face.
Rey waited a beat before she locked it behind him. Then she peered through the peephole. No one in sight.
She let out a sigh. “Finn, all clear. And before you ask, yes he does that every day. Sometimes I think he breaks things on purpose so he can give me stuff to do.”
“What a horrid man…” Finn huffed out as he extricated himself from the closet. “I’m sorry you have to deal with a boss like him.”
“Well I gotta get going.”
“Hey, Rey…” His serious tone made her look at him then. “You know he’s probably on their payroll right?”
Finn’s words only worsened the uneasiness that had bloomed in Rey’s stomach when Plutt had inquired about the chair.
“Maybe I should leave.”
“No! What are you talking about?” Rey blurted this out and had his hands between hers before she had a second thought. He looked so lost in that moment, though she wondered if that wasn’t just a projection of how she felt inside.
His hands were warm. His eyes were sad. And scared.
“They’ll kill you and then what?” She had to make him understand.
When was the last time someone had ever spoken with her into the night? When had she last shared a meal with someone, though her meager leftovers from last night probably didn’t really count? Who else understood what it was like to be born to look just like everyone else yet completely different at the same time?
He opened his mouth to reply and she didn't wait for him to answer. “I’ll be alone again. That’s what!” She finished with a lame joke, willing all of her sincerity into the expression she gave him now. “Aren’t you going to take responsibility?”
In a span of twenty four hours, Rey had found what she had never really had before until now.
The beginnings of a friendship.