Two sides of the same coin [Acheron & Cadmus] [OLD ONE]

By now, he really should have expected it. Still, he had stared at the familiar handwriting, feeling a slight annoyance aimed only at himself for having failed to anticipate the arrival of this summoning. Three weeks of radio silence, the tumultuous aftermath of the crown prince’s death, and he had somehow allowed this whole ordeal to retract to the back of his mind. Already there seemed to be enough going on; the accusations thrown at the EFA, the arrival of Gwyn and the chaos she had brought, the sudden appearance of a woman offering an interview, and them accepting it, despite all of this, he had realised, it was possible for everything to get worse.

Because Cadmus had offered to help Linus with the preparations for the service of the week, he had been at the Temple when the letterbox slid open. Pure luck, really, that he had been able to get hold of the note before anyone else saw it. It didn’t matter how he had known where to find him. He somehow always did. Besides, word spread, and it was more than likely that someone should know about the services at the Temple, and that he should know of Cadmus being there. It was not the first time he had been contacted like this, and even the first time it had not been that surprising, that someone who knew about Aurelius would expect Cadmus to be at a temple of Iostantism. Still, he felt an urge to blame his unpreparedness on something; His mind had been occupied with how to help Gwyn, with work, with temple service stuff, with, well, everything else.

The note had been nothing more than a time. It was all he needed to know. And the rest of the day, until said time came around, felt hazy. Where he usually enjoyed both the music and the philosophical debates, as well as the socialness of it all, he now had a hard time focusing. Where had he been? Was Lucy alright? Did this have something to do with the murder? Although he did not want to believe it, he could not deny that the possibility was there. So, when the designated time finally came around, he had gone through every possible scenario. Whatever the reason behind this meeting might be, he supposed he was soon to find out.

He had gone straight from the Temple to a narrow, unlit alleyway that looked so comically sketchy that no one in their right mind would pass that way. They had no reason to either, for the alleyway was empty, save for some old empty barrels, the usual Erast trash, an old door yet to be broken through, and now him. Leaning against the cold brick wall, painfully overdressed in what he himself would describe as business casual, or the Erast definition of someone worth robbing should they be found alone in a dark alley at ten past nine, he did not dare to light a smoke to calm his nerves. Sure, he might not be carrying anything of worth, and sure, he was confident he would somehow avoid getting mugged, but with how these past weeks had gone, he preferred not to take any chances. He had begun to feel both stiff and cold when he finally heard the echo of footsteps nearing.

Acheron strolled casually down the darkened and dirty backstreets, the hood of his hoodie pulled up to protect him against the occasional rain showers, hands buried deep within the pockets of his coat. On these streets, the lamps were spread far inbetween, leaving stretches in complete darkness while others were lit in sickly yellow-tinted light. Despite the bad weather and the cold air, the lights still attracted bugs. And where there were bugs, there was spiderweb. He looked up into one of the streetlamps, watching as a spider approached a fly caught in its net. He came to a stop for a moment, he wasn’t in a hurry. He knew the man would be waiting by the time he arrived. He wouldn’t dare to do otherwise. Then, once bored with the bugs he continued on his journey towards the familiar alley. The streets were deserted, except for the occasional homeless person. Acheron kept his gaze away from their sleeping frames.

His steps echoed when he entered the alley, along with the sounds of squeaking from a startled rat who sought refuge in the comfort of the sewers. He eyed the man in front of him. It seemed Cadmus had dressed to impress, a dangerous thing in this part of town. One would think he wanted to be assaulted. Most likely, the note had caught him off-guard, surprisingly enough. Maybe he had thought this was over? He cracked a smile at the thought.

As a skilled nachon, Cadmus remained one of the few people Acheron could not easily get a reading on. Something that was simultaneously incredibly annoying, but also a nice change of pace. But it didn’t take psychic powers to see that the man had been under a lot of stress recently, even in his getup. He looked like shit, even in the darkness. Still, Acheron extended his powers to get a reading of, well. Something. He wasn’t sure of what, really. Maybe just to show that he could and he would?

Acheron got a cigarette out from a package in his coat pocket, lighting it up and taking a drag. For a moment, they watched each other in tense silence, until Acheron exhaled the smoke.

“Hello, Cadmus. Don’t you look nice, all dressed up for temple service.” He stepped closer to the other man, holding out the cigarette pack as an offering. There was an amused smile on his lips. He was in a good mood tonight. “I do hope you haven’t missed me too much, dearie.”

The nearing footsteps were accompanied by something else. A tugging of him sorts in the back of his mind, that told him someone was trying to intrude. Let him try, he thought, not caring to turn his head towards the newcomer. The sense of invaded privacy and the timing of the steps left little doubt about who the nachon was. But Cadmus had spent years, just over nine, to be exact, honing his craft, and he was not about to let someone break the barriers he had so carefully created. Even if said person already knew most of what he wanted to hide from the world. So, as the other man took out a package of cigarettes and lit one, Cadmus took a calming breath, and decided to, well, not crack, just yet.

Acheron was everything he was not. Thankfully. Never was it more apparent than in moments like these, standing face to face with what he could have been. And he clung to this notion, of being somehow better, or at least different, as he waited for the other to speak. Trailing the exhaled spiral of smoke when he finally did.

"Acheron," He greeted coolly, reaching out to take a cigarette. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

He did not care if the offer had been meant as mockery, if he should have accepted or not, yet he did. He reached for his lighter, and found it in a coat pocket, next to his own carton. It took a couple of tries, but when he finally got it lit, he was grateful for the distraction. All of this was partly done to avoid having to look at Acheron, but now he had run out of pretences. Taking a drag of the cigarette he turned his gaze from the faint orange glow to the man in front of him.

Even if Cadmus was overdressed, he would prefer it to the slobby look of the hooded figure. Sure, every time you went somewhere in this shithole not dressed the part, you were taking a risk. But although he might look shitty after weeks of bad sleep, he refused to dress the part. That, and he had not wanted to go home and change before the meeting. If this, or anything else really, amused Acheron, Cadmus couldn't bring himself to care. Just as he did not care about the silly little remarks. In situations like these every show of emotion was a weakness. He was not weak. And yet, there was something sinister about the good mood of the other. Good morale in bad people could be an ominous thing.

There was something infuriating about Cadmus not meeting his gaze. Mostly because Acheron knew it wasn’t because he was intimidated. No, it was about denying him that show of respect, as if he wasn’t even worth looking at. It was incredibly petty, yet, it pissed him off. He took another drag of the cigarette, convincing himself that he didn’t feel any sort of way about the Cadmus’ indifference. He smiled coldly when Cadmus’ gaze finally met his own.

“Can’t a guy want to see their friend without some wicked ulterior motives now?” He asked, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall on his shoulder. “How low you must think of me.”

Of course he had ulterior motives. Of course he’d never want to see the man in front of him without it being necessary. Cadmus disgusted him. But Acheron was the one with the upper hand here, and he wasn’t about to reveal what he wanted just yet. He had the control of exactly how long this meeting was going to be, and Cadmus was just going to have to live with that. He pulled the hood further down as the first ice cold drops of a rainshower started to fall.

“How long has it been since our last little rendezvous? Two weeks? Three?” He asked casually, bringing the cigarette back up to his lips again. He smiled at him, as if he really were just a friend interested in Cadmus’ life and well-being. “Please, you must’ve been busy. I know I have. Catch me up, old pal. How have you been? You look like shit.”

He took a drag and exhaled the smoke as he looked at the man. There was something malicious in his eyes. He wanted that reaction. Fuck Cadmus and fuck his stoicism. He tapped his cigarette to get rid of the ash. “Business is good, I assume. Definitely beats your old gig. What was it again? Oh yeah, I remember,” he spoke, smiling. “You dirty boy.”

It was a stupid game. Whatever this was. As if either of them could half believe Acheron's words. Besides a small huff, he did not care to comment on it. Instead, he followed the other with his eyes, with a slow drag of the cigarette, turning his head, to where Acheron leaned against the wall. Cad of course, thought very little of him indeed. A pitiful creature he wished to live a life free from, but since that was currently out of the question, he was forced to at least pretend to be having a polite conversation with the man. Whatever the reason for this meeting was, and the sudden disappearance last month, Cadmus would just have to wait until Acheron felt like telling him. It wasn't just a game; the fundamental premises of this game were Acherons. It made him feel powerless. And he hated it. He would not admit this, and even as it started raining, he tried to keep up some facade of cool indifference.

It had been two weeks, six days and around 22 hours since they last met. Which he didn't say. Instead, he said; "That sounds about right." There was no need to match Acherons casual tone or smile. It was so much safer not to. Just in case. Hadn't he, after all, spent that same morning with Gwyn, telling her how not to make herself vulnerable to Nachons? "Thank you for noticing," he said, as if he'd been given a compliment. He took another drag of the cigarette; it really made this whole thing easier, having something else to focus on, the exhalation and the coil of smoke. The two glowing lights in the sea of darkness. It eased him into a false politeness. "Busy? Oh, you know, just the usual, dealing with the grief of a murdered royal. Bless his spirit." The last part was not without a great deal of sarcasm. "Speaking of, where have you been? You do not look well enough to have come back from a vacation in paradise." And besides, he would never have been let in.

The last comment made him wince and look away. Just enough for Acheron to notice, and enough to make him annoyed at himself for having reacted. He could not do anything about the past, so why should he care? He forced himself to look at Acheron, but his tone was a bit sharper than he would have preferred when he replied: "I honestly can't see how you are in a position to judge my means of survival. I don't get mixed up with your business, you don't interfere with mine."

He smiled a joyless smile at Cadmus’ comment about his absence.  The last couple of weeks had been hell. A couple of days before the murder of the prince, the authorities had discovered Acheron’s whereabouts, which meant that he had had to go into hiding. It also meant that after nearly seven years, Acheron was technically homeless again for the third time in his life. Although, the situation wasn’t that dire. He had a place to stay, for now. Of all the heinous crimes Acheron had committed in his lifetime, squatting seemed laughably trivial. Besides, it was only temporary. Right now, after the murder of the prince, no one in Erast would risk renting out to a Nachon, let alone someone with a track record like his. That would change in a few months, he was sure. Until then, he would have to make due. At least this had happened at a time of year where the temperature was bearable. Last time this had happened it had been mid october and had been cold as hell. He took a drag off his cigarette.

Then there was genuine satisfaction on his face when Cadmus winced. The sharpness of his tone was delicious. It seemed Cadmus often needed a reminder that it honestly didn’t take much to knock him off his high horse.
He tapped his cigarette to rid it off the burned ash as it started raining in earnest. “And yet you’ve seem to have gotten into your head that you are in a position to act above mine,” he countered. “Funny that.”

“I mean, when it comes down to it, the only difference between you and me is that I don’t pretend to be something I’m not. I know I’m the worst. You, though. Yeesh.” He took another drag off his cigarette. Exhaling the smoke as he looked at Cadmus with a self-satisfied smile. “Don’t you worry though, dear. I’m not a narc. Although, I’m sure your friends at  the EFA would love to hear about your colorful past.”

“Speaking of which, how is that little bed and breakfast managing these days?”

The evening was not turning out as planned. In all fairness, he had no plan. But had Cadmus had one. This would not be how it went. Acheron had given no answers to his whereabouts these past few weeks, and unlike Gwyn, he was a competent Nachon warlock, who did leave his inner workings up for grabs. If he tried, Cad might be break down whatever shield prevented him from simply knowing, but it would be a waste of energy. Besides, he didn't really care how Acheron had spent his time or how it was spent in general. So as the icy drops of water became more frequent, the eave of the building provided little protection, the rain flattened his hair and trickled down his collar, he had to remind himself he was here for a reason. He could live with all of this, even the disgustingly satisfied look on Acheron's face at how discomforted the conversation made him. None of it mattered. What did matter was making sure Lucy was alright. Since she refused to talk to him, this was the only way. Part of him wondered if she knew how painful the meetings with Acheron were, part of him did not want to find out that she did, and that this was why.

Did this martyrdom of his not proof he was in fact better than Acheron? He pondered this, bringing his cigarette to his lips, it too was fighting the rain, and he did his best to shield it. Both as he took a drag, and as he let out the smoke with sigh. Even if he was no better, at least he tried. That was more than anyone could say about Acheron. The giving up, the giving in. How could it be anything but a sign of weakness? At least he wasn't weak.

Acherons words stung. Maybe Cadmus was a pretender. But he tried. Although he knew he was playing into the other's hand, he felt his composure begin slip. He could blame the rain, and the lack of preparation, the constant stress and lack of sleep. In the end it didn't matter. "You honestly believe I don't know what I've done?" He said, lowering his voice, which only made the shakiness of his calmness more apparent. And try as he might. He was not good enough at hiding the pain in his eyes as he spoke. He ashed the cigarette "It's called taking responsibility, you should try it someday"

"Now, you give me too much credit, if you think the EFA would care, I am hardly that interesting." He shifted his weight to the other leg, although he seemed to have found some level of confidence whilst speaking, he was hardly sure of his words. He did not want them to find out, was not ready to leave yet. The arrangement worked so well. He could keep an eye on Lucy, he had somewhere to stay, something to do. But how could he expect Dominic to let him stay if he knew? He had not spoken about his past, so no one could call him a liar. Still. Was not both he and his reasons for staying corrupt? No. It was his home. Had been for years. He had every right to stay. But he also had a responsibility to keep it safe. "The bed and breakfast would prefer it if it was left to manage itself"

"Now, are you going to tell me why we are here?"

Acheron laughed at Cadmus’ obvious discomfort. He really didn’t need to be able to read his mind of memories to tear him apart. The man himself was so insecure in his own superiority. For a moment Cadmus lost his composure, and with that came just the tiniest bit of stressful energy, that the man was practically radiating either way. It was enough to satisfy Acheron. “Geez, Cad. Rough day there, buddy?” He let go of his wet cigarette before stomping it out. “I’m getting the sense that you’re trying to get rid of me here. Very, very rude of you. And here I thought you came from a cultured home, you should be better raised than this,” he chastised, through a wide smile. This was hilarious to him. “Oh, how far can one fall, huh? Pathetic.” Acheron took a special kind of enjoyment in seeing Cadmus struggle. Cadmus, who had everything. Cadmus, who had a home. And people who loved him. Did he even realize that at the end of the day, such things were luxuries that could easily be ripped away? After all, they were only rats within a society hellbent to destroy them. The world was a very cruel place. No amount of love or philosophy could protect against that. Only the strong survived. And Cadmus stood there, soaked and miserable in his fancy getup. How wouldn’t it be satisfying seeing him like that?

“But alright. Since you wanna get right to business.” Acheron finally said. He reached into the pocket of his jacket and fished out a crumpled piece of paper, handing it to Cadmus. “You will get me the items on this list. Meet me here Friday by midnight, I need them before Sunday,” he explained, before smiling courtly. “Then, I promise the bed and breakfast wont be getting any uninvited visitors. Deal?”

It wasn’t as much of a request as it was an order. And a threat. Although he wasn’t sure of the EFA’s exact location, he could easily figure it out by simply stalking Cadmus home. Which did make him wonder why he hadn’t done that already. That certainly was an unexplored opportunity. He had been denied their services and help once before as a teenager, so he had little regard for their safety and privacy. It was just another name on a rather long list of people who had wronged him. Although it was far down on his list of priorities. There were worse evils in this world he’d much rather see destroyed.

List:

Despite their exchange being really anything but, Cadmus was not surprised that Acheron somehow found it to be amusing. Well, He thought, giving up the idea of smoking in the rain, life was too short to give a damn about all the unfunny things Acheron laughed at. Contrary to the other, who seemed to have very little regard to the environment, Cad had brought a pocket ashtray. When that task no longer demanded his attention, he turned to look at the rain. A pointless task in the dark, but preferable to Acheron. Rough day? He snorted. Did either of them experience anything but? He let the comment about how he had been raised pass. In all fairness, he had not been raised to deal with either blackmailers or criminal organisations, and it was almost amusing to imagine his parents caring about the words he used when speaking to the scum that was Acheron. He supposed it was ironic, rather than pathetic; His so-called fall from grace. Not that there was much left to be said about it. He had to give it to the papers, they had been pretty thorough. But here was the brilliance of Acheron, alway there to serve as a living reminder of how far yet he had to rock bottom.

“Rid of you?” He asked, with a hint of this sudden amusement, still staring into the dark. “I am merely being kind enough to acknowledge that your time is valuable. Let’s be honest, this cannot be your preferred way of spending the evening.”

It did make him wonder, a bit. Did he take for granted what little had been left to him? He did not think so. Learning to be content had been a rough journey, and he had no one but himself to blame for it. Even here, in the rain, at least he was breathing. How many people hadn’t been denied even that.

Only at the mention of business, did he turn his head back to look at Acheron. Eyeing him with curiosity as he reached into his pocket for something. A ball of paper. Cad took it, unwrapping what turned out to be a list of items and managing to shield it from the rain. He scanned it with a frown. “That’s” He hesitated, still looking down at the paper, “a lot of money on such short notice.” He sighed, folded the paper again, and put it in his pocket, and looked back up at Acheron. ”Don’t worry, I’ll get it. Deal.” For every sentence he sounded more certain, and although worried, it wasn’t an impossible task. He eyed the other, thoughtfully. “Although, I will need your size.” The phone would be easy enough to get, if Acheron should have had any preferences, he should have added it to the note. The money? He did not like it. But that should be manageable too. Now the blueprints? That would be tougher. But he was not foolish enough to imagine himself in a position to protest. This was a threat. And he wondered if he needed to watch his back more closely in the future. The owner of the bed and breakfast would not appreciate another untimely visitor.

Let’s be honest, this cannot be your preferred way of spending the evening. Although the rain wasn’t ideal and they both would be soaked by the time this was over and done with, how else would he be spending his time? Cadmus had people to return to at the EFA headquarters. Acheron had the abandoned, cold and damp warehouse building that he was currently staying in. So in that way, yes, terrorizing Cadmus was his preferred way of spending his evening. At least this way, they were both miserable. He found some comfort in that.

“I’m sure you’ll figure something out,” he said, smiling, when Cadmus noted the sum of money he had asked for. So what if the sum was quite a bit larger than what was strictly necessary? It wasn’t like Cadmus was in any position to complain. Then he clapped his hands together with a wide grin on his face when Cadmus confirmed they had a deal. “Wonderful. So glad we could reach an agreement,” he said, as if Cadmus had had any room to bargain at all. “Knew I could count on you.”

Then Cadmus asked his size. Which, well, Acheron really had no clue what size suit he was. Or what size anything he was, he didn’t care much for fashion. It wasn’t like he was invented to heaps of cocktail parties or fancy gallas, nor did he have the funds to go on a shopping spree to expand his wardrobe. He wore what he wore to protect him against the elements and not as a testament to his style. But for what he was planning, he needed to not look like absolute shit. He eyed Cadmus, sizing him up. Acheron was a bit skinnier than him, sure, but they were roughly the same frame and height. Acheron shrugged. “I dunno. Whatever you wear, I guess,” he then said, gesturing with his hand to indicate he really did have no clue. “You’re the expert here, pretty boy.”

If it felt torturous, it was because it was. Cadmus could deal with a lot. He had dealt with a lot. Dealing with things had become his trademark. But the lack of agency that came with doing business with Acheron? Since he was not doing, it could not be called dealing, and since he had no leverage, it was not really business. It was blackmail. It was him being pushed around, a pawn in whatever dirty game Acheron was playing. Could he even claim to be his own person, when he was so strongly bound by a promise to a dead man?

"Always a pleasure." He responded with a formal irony to the agreement. He leaned away from the wall, flexed what had become a very stiff back; He would figure something out. That he could do. It had gotten him this far.

Of course Acheron had no clue as to his size in clothes, looking at the man should have given away that much, and since Cad had not thought to bring a measuring tape, he supposed he would just have to guess. He shrugged in response, if Acheron really didn’t care, sure, he could just use his own measures to get something tailored. It might not fit perfectly; Cad was a head taller and leagues healthier than his gutter-rat company; he might lack sleep, but at least he was well fed. But it would have to do. He nodded to himself.

With everything taken care of – or not really, he had just received a new everything to take care of – he could now relax a bit. This was the reason for the meeting then. Acheron had shown his hand, and this had been the unpleasant result. It felt like the perfect time to present his own reason for coming. A simple question, the same as always: “How is she?”

He watched Cadmus stretch out his stiff back. He looked notably annoyed with the new list of to-do’s, but Acheron had little sympathy for that. He got something out of this relation too, after all. A treat for being a compliant blackmailing victim. Acheron was so kind for that.

And as Acheron had figured he'd do, Cadmus moved on to the next, unavoidable part straight away. His payment, for lack of better words. The girl. Lucy. It was an interesting dynamic. He, who was always so very worried about her. Which he probably should be, all things considered. And she, who despised him. One could argue that it was a shame. But teenagers weren't exactly known for their rational emotions.

He shrugged. “Oh, she’s pissed. But really, what’s new about that? Wouldn’t be her if she wasn’t,” he spoke, reaching into his pocket once again, fishing out another piece of paper. A ripped out piece from her journal. Perhaps stealing from the personal belongings of a person you were supposedly looking out for something most would consider, well, incredibly immoral. But, really, Acheron was a terrible pick for a guardian angel. Which seemed to fit in line with Lucy’s luck. He handed the paper to Cadmus. “Good ol’ Lucy, amiright?”

Journal clip out:

The piece of lined paper is folded down the middle and seems to be ripped out of the journal. The words scribbled upon them start in the middle of a sentence, the rest of which still remains in the journal at home with Lucy. Though the words have been haphazardly scribed onto the paper in a hurry, it’s clear that the girl would have had a great handwriting had she taken the time to write more carefully. There’s doodles of skulls, snakes, black cats, and bugs along the margins of the page.
There’s a date in the top-right corner of the page reading “Saturday, 6/5, 2023”



The rest of the page has been ripped off

“Of course she is" He said, relieved and with adoration, as he watched as Acheron recovered another piece of paper. He accepted it with a genuine smile. At least Acheron kept his promises. Cad would have to give him that. So what if she was pissed? She had every right to be. All that mattered was that she was alive. Without a care for the rain, he unfolded the paper and began to skim over the text. Verifying it by the handwriting and date. About a week and a half ago.

A second later he paused to look at Acheron; Then hesitantly, and with a slight frown asked; “Does she know you have this?” He was looking at a page from her diary. Which heavily implied that the man in front of him had not only abused her trust by reading her private thoughts, but had held it in so little regard as to rip out a page to bring it here, to him. Cadmus wished he could claim some moral high ground. That he could say that he respected the privacy and wishes of the girl and did not read on after this realisation. But this was as good an insight into Lucy’s life as he could expect to get, so he shrugged off his ethical objections and read on.  

He had not been sure what he had expected. But nothing could have prepared him for this. So she had a boyfriend, and a cat. He didn’t know that. That had to be good, right? When he read what she had named her kitten he let out an “Oh.” Was it surprise? Sad realisation? Whatever it was he felt his chest tighten. A knot that only got worse as he read on. He would have given anything to spare her for the nightmares. He knew them too. They were the reason why he could not let this go.

There were dreams of springdays in the gardens, and a barefoot girl teaching him how to sow carrots, dreams of evenings where Aurelius would read to them and she would draw, or tell him to colour sort beads for her. Dreams of nostalgia and happiness and a family. Until the world collapses and they blame the girl. Where he hears her screaming and this is what the tension has been building to. They crave revenge, violence and he cannot stop it. Cannot help her. Cannot waste time to find Aurelius. Can only watch. And they will kill her, he’s so sure. So he stops it. Tries to. And they were right all along. They are terrible. And they do get away but they cannot hide. Aurelius is so mad. But what else..? How? And it doesn’t matter, because there is no time for it to matter. But even then it’s too late. So he promises him to look out for her, And once again they survive, but at once cost? Aurelius is gone, and it’s his fault.

It was okay for him to dream of Aurelius’ death. After all, wasn’t it his fault? At least Lucy knew this too. That he had had no right to ruin their lives. That had he not been so eager for a fight Aurelius could have handled it. And none of it… She had wanted to be an artist. And now what? What had become of her life?

“Thank you,” He said, not sure if he was crying or if it was just the rain,“For keeping an eye on her”. Acheron might not be the best guardian, but at least it meant that she had someone? Right? Cadmus might not be able to stand the man, and he might feel that some of Lucy’s animosity towards him was fuelled by Acheron, that it was his fault that she wanted nothing to do with him. But he needed him. As long as he knew where she was, and that she was somewhat safe, it was not too late.

“Does she know you have this?” Acheron shrugged. As he would readily admit, he was a terrible guardian. So what if he read her diary from time to time? He was just making sure that her piece of shit boyfriend didn’t hurt her again. And to keep track of anything else Lucy might elect not to tell Acheron. She was a clever girl and while she had for whatever reason decided to keep him around, she knew never to fully trust him. And it wasn’t like he was alone in disrespecting her privacy. As if Cadmus wasn’t thrilled to get this insight into her everyday life. He was just about to say that if he didn’t want it, he should give it back. But of course, then the man started reading. Acheron smiled slightly at that. Moral high ground. Yeah, right.

There were many emotions on the man's face as he started reading the diary entry. Acheron averted his gaze up at the pitch black that was the night sky. A couple of thick raindrops fell on his face. Cadmus said a faint ‘oh’ and Acheron turned his attention to him once again. Oh right, the cat. A stray she had found in a plastic bag in a garbage bin behind a supermarket. The poor kitten had been left for dead. She had taken it home with her, much to the dismay of Aaron, her boyfriend. In the end the cat stayed and she named it after her grandfather. Acheron didn’t share that story. There were many things about her he didn’t share with Cadmus. Her art being one of them. Every week she found a new outlet. One moment she was painting, the next it was poetry. Recently she had picked up an old guitar and was trying her hand at songwriting. Acheron didn’t fully get what the use of it was, but she seemed to get something out of it. Maybe one day she’d actually stick with a medium long enough to actually get good at it.

Lost in thought, he hadn’t noticed that Cadmus looked on the verge of crying. Fuck, wait, was he crying? He couldn’t tell in the dark and the rain certainly did not help either. He shifted his weight, crossed his arms and averted his gaze. As much as he was a bastard, he didn’t exactly enjoy seeing people hurt like this. He was a monster, for sure, but not a sadistic one. Then Cadmus thanked him and his attention shifted back to him, with a look of slight confusion. Was he thanking him for breaking Lucy’s trust..? Oh, for looking out for her. He shot out his hand dramatically and shrugged, hoping to dispel some of the emotional tension in the air. This was the wrong kind of tension. He didn’t enjoy this.
“Well, somebody has to.” He buried his hands in pockets and looked at the sad, wet Cadmus in front of him. Acheron himself had started shivering slightly from the cold now. Which meant that his prediction had come true, they were both miserable. Which meant that the night was over. They had both gotten what they wanted. Acheron’s gaze shot to the ground for a brief moment before he sighed, pushing away from the wall. Then he finally looked Cadmus in the eye for the final time tonight. “That’s it for tonight then, I suppose. Unless you have something you want to add,” he spoke, before adding in a joking tone. “Otherwise I’ll crawl back to the hole from whence I came.”

Another time he might have been able to appreciate the change of pace. Cad’s reaction to the small glimpse into Lucy’s life had very clearly unsettled Acheron. How pathetic would he have to appear in order to make someone like Acheron stop enjoying putting him further down? Shit, maybe he had really been crying. The thought of standing there, in the rain, crying in front of the man who expected him to scrape together 50.000 in only a couple of days, along with the blueprint to a luxury hotel, was less than pleasant. And he stuffed the journal page into his coat pocket, with an embarrassed look and a desire to be done with this meeting very soon.

To his luck, Acheron seemed no more eager to continue this sad night. It didn’t matter that Acheron tried to dispel the tension the journal entry had created. Cad still felt miserable. And subsequently terrible for feeling so. Vulnerability was telling people you could not handle something yourself. That you needed help or sympathy. That you were someone people should feel bad for. Which he wasn’t. And so he shouldn’t act that way.

As most nights with Acheron, Cadmus had found this one far from pleasant. But that had never been the point. Pulling himself somewhat together he met the eyes of the other. “Goodnight then,” He looked away, down the alley from where he had come earlier that evening. Ignoring Acheron’s joke. It was a bit funny, Cad supposed, but depressingly accurate. “See you friday.”

He did not walk straight home. It was still early, and he did not want to walk in on some of the refugees hanging out in the living room and have to explain why he looked so awfully miserable. So he just walked. The puddles splashing as he walked through the sad streets of his reality. Dirty, black back alleys and unnatural orange flickering street lights. Erast looked no nicer at night than it usually did. It was no less dangerous to walk around now, than it had been earlier that evening, but this time around he did not care. It was the sudden culmination of everything. The upcoming interview, the death of the crown prince, the struggles of the EFA. All the things he didn’t really care about, but that demanded his attention anyways. It was the reappearance of Acheron and the torture of being known. It was that Lucy was here, somewhere, and could have used his help. His protection. It was having to be who everyone wanted him to be. Which he didn’t really mind. How else would he know who he was? But it was the pressure, the yolk of the past and the present, the known and the unknowable. It was the ever present threat of someone knowing. It was all of this, but the streets were very empty, too wet and exhausted for any trouble.