Damage Control [EFA meeting]

Even though the main room was full of EFA-members, it was less crowded than usual. For the first time since Dominic had had to take over as the leader, there were more refugees than members. The refugees for now were in their room, spared from the discussions about to take place between the group’s members. Replacing them were all of Ilomar City’s EFA-members, all of them facing the center of the room - Saga and Vera on the couch’s backrest, Mason on a folding chair next to them, Lilith and Dylan on two of the dining chairs furthest from the wall. Cadmus sat with them on the third chair, furthest away from the kitchen island where Dominic was standing with Cassius. Dominic didn’t allow himself to consider if his placement had been on purpose, whether it was due to tensions either from their encounter two nights ago or after the conflict yesterday. Cadmus had brought pizza to the meeting. At least that was as usual.

They were almost fully gathered. Still, Dominic was fully aware of those missing. Fallon, first of all. It wasn’t unusual for him to drop by at the very last moment before the start of the meeting, but Dominic had just this morning received a concerning call from Eric with a complaint about Fallon not contacting him as they had agreed. That wasn’t good. They couldn’t have Eric pulling back his ressources due to Fallon’s flakiness. A flakiness that, despite Fallon’s over-all unserious demeanor, wasn’t usual. Dominic had to talk to him about it, either at the meeting or after. This couldn't do.

And Idés and Gwyn. Idés had texted Dominic that he would bring Gwyn to the meeting and Dominic had agreed to this. Dominic wasn’t sure what he was the most nervous about - them not showing up or what it will be like when they showed up. At least it had helped speaking with Cassius before the meeting. Despite initially regretting inviting him over earlier, he was glad to have had someone to talk with. Someone like Cassius who knew how to pressure him into actually speaking about stuff. And even better, someone like Cassius who knew never to mention it again.

Physically, though, he was getting worse. Having barely slept yet another night, his body felt like it was shutting down. Headache, nausea, the room spun in slow uneven  loops. Dominic considered sitting down just to give himself a break. He kept standing, though, his arms crossed and flexed as the group waited for the last people to arrive.

There was a palpable tension in the room, more so than at their usual meetings, even more so than their last meeting. Everyone had read the article, everyone had seen the outrage that had followed. Everyone had seen the overflow of refugees they had yet to figure out how to help out of this country. They were going to talk about this in a minute, and luckily, Dominic might have some good news there. Not that he felt any relief. Instead, his jaw was clenched and his mouth shut, his furrowed glare over and over again turning towards the door.

No particular conversation was happening around him, just a few of the members exchanging a few sentences in low voices. He overheard Dylan asking Cadmus what had happened to him, a question not just a nachon warlock knew was on everyone’s mind the second they had seen the man’s black eye. He didn’t listen to Cadmus’ response though - he didn’t want to deal with a tight pit gnawing in his stomach on top of everything else wrong in his body right now. He just kept shooting glances at the door, anticipating the arrival of the others. More specifically, a fact he hated to admit, of Gwyn.

Cadmus had come to the EFA meeting with a strategy. Well, pizzas, and a strategy. If he seated himself as far – a relative and generous term in a room of such scale – away from Dominic as he could; figuring it was he who would be getting most of the attention, and subsequently most of the looks, Cadmus might be able to avoid too many curious eyes. And too many questions.

So far, only the pizza part of his plan seemed to work. Despite the tension in the room; and it was thick, the article had been a game changer – what had they expected? – the La Russa pizzas were welcomed. Dylan, who sat next to him, was on his third or fourth slice. With half the boxes on the table behind them, they were hard to ignore. Takeout was a luxury life on the run came without. One couldn’t really fault him. Dylan's: “What happened to you?” on the other hand? That was where the plan fell flat. The question had been asked in a low voice, but it would have surprised Cadmus if there was anyone in the room who had not heard. Oh well, he had become a curiosity, so what.

“Someone hit me,” Cadmus said, refusing to elaborate. Despite his lack of appetite he turned to the pizzas. Eating was better than talking; Dylan looked like he wanted to say something else, changed his mind and said something to Lilith instead.

A glance around the room revealed two things; Fallon was still absent. So were Idés and Gwyn; Cadmus had been right yesterday; she would be back. And by the looks Dom kept sending the door he was probably anticipating just that.

Somewhere between Cassius and Dominic’s conversation and this moment, the two had moved away from the table and now stood together by the kitchen island. Cassius was curious about the bruise on Cadmus face, though he didn’t want to pressure him for information, especially when he heard how he replied to Dylan when he asked. Some things were best left alone.

Everyone that needed to be there was gathered, except a few. There was Idés who had yet not arrived, he probably was also bringing Gwyn along. They probably would arrive any minute now, a guess he made with a quick glance at the clock. The last to have yet to appear was none other than Fallon. Sure, he had never missed a meeting before, but Cassius knew that at some point there had to be a first one. So was it really that surprising he hadn’t shown up yet? No, not really. The frivolous guy had made it a habit to show up at the last possible second as a form of unnecessary dramatic entrance. If he was going to be truly honest, Cassius would not be surprised at all if Fallon didn’t show. Though he wasn’t sure if anyone had heard from him lately, he hadn’t seen the tall and thin man around the HQ at all during the last times he visited. Was there any need to be concerned? Fallon’s whole personality made it very likely that he would do the irresponsible thing and just ditch every piece of responsibility he managed to hold in his hands.

Not bothering to think anymore of Fallon, Cassius moved his attention to the attendees of the meeting that was about to start any minute. He could feel the tension in the air, his mind having the article and everything that followed it hovering close, never truly leaving his thoughts. Cassius glanced over at his friend who was glancing at the door, though with the tired look he had  that seemed to have worsened since their conversation, made it seem like he was shooting daggers at it instead. For the sake of his friend, Cassius hoped they could go straight to business and get the meeting over as soon as possible, without any interference of any kind. A small hope that his friend could get rest as quickly as possible.

Normally Idés didn’t dread EFA meetings. That was because normally, it was just business as usual. But there was nothing usual about the last month that had gone by. The dead prince, the refugees, the article, everything between Dominic and Gwyn – it was a lot for anyone to deal with and one wrong move could end in disaster and so many people had their life on the line. And this morning Idés had woken up worried, as he seemed to do most mornings these days. He was tired, as he often was, he hadn’t slept a lot, as was often the case. He had ended up falling asleep on the couch during the movie, then woken up a few hours later, to pitch-black darkness outside and he hadn’t been able to get much more rest from that point onwards. Nothing that a few cups of coffee, and a cigarette couldn't fix. It didn’t dissolve the knot in his stomach, but at least he felt more awake by the time the sun had come up. Gwyn had gotten up too at some point. She didn’t look too good either and the two hadn't exchanged many words that morning.

A shower, some leftover pizza for breakfast and then, soon enough, a car-trip to that miserable section of town that had once been home and to that familiar, worn factory building. It was shaping out to be a beautiful day, a clear sunny sky and no need for a jacket – not that it really mattered, they probably were going to spend most of the day inside. And now, in front of the front door to the HQ, he still felt anxious. Nothing he let show though. Instead, before entering, he smiled reassuringly at Gwyn, as if to say it’s going to work itself out. He wasn’t sure how likely that was, to be honest, but they both had to believe it.

And then, finally entering the shabby apartment. The tension in the air was palpable, all eyes on them. That far from soothed his anxiety, but it couldn't be helped. Seemed they were the last ones to arrive. 

“Hey. Sorry about the wait,” he said, entering completely, a friendly nod Dominic’s way. He, too, looked like a wreck, like a shadow of himself. The guilt returned. He held the door for Gwyn, signaling for her to seat herself. Then he too made his way through the room, sitting on the far end of the dining table, noting the black eye on Cadmus’ face. What the hell had happened to him? He also looked like a wreck. Eyeing the rest of the room, most of them did, honestly – which made him notice: 
“Fallon hasn’t arrived?”

One would think that a full night of rest would have one feel regenerated. Gwyn felt quite the contrary despite the many hours of sleep she had gotten. Her body felt sore because of the position she had been sleeping in, the kink in her neck screaming with every move she made. She was certain she looked as bad as she felt. Not to mention how horrid her breath must smell as she hadn’t brushed her teeth since yesterday morning. Neither had she felt particularly chatty that morning as reality seeped in slowly ever since she had opened her eyes. Idés was taking her back to HQ and that made a heavy feeling linger in her belly. She could only say that she was dreading her return, for she hadn’t left the place on good terms.

Forsaken a shower – because she had no spare clothes on her and nibbling on a piece of cold pizza for breakfast, she’d gone over every worst case scenario that her mind could come up with. All of them ended with her not being welcome anymore and having to potentially flee her own city, if not the country. A bit dramatic, perhaps but that was what one did when thinking in doom scenarios. Before they left Gwyn had asked Idés for a bit of toothpaste, so she could give her teeth a quick fingerbrush in hopes it would make herself a bit more fresh. Inside the bathroom Gwyn had taken one look at herself before she decided to avoid anything with a reflection. She looked horrid, to say the least. Her curly hair looked like a crows nest, her complexion was paler than usual which made the dark circles underneath her eyes even more prominent. Even her freckles, which were showing all year round, looked like they had retreated. After the makeshift brushing of her teeth, Gwyn put the hood of her hoody over her head and exited the bathroom.

The heavy feeling had only gotten heavier from the moment Gwyn had gotten in Idés’ car and they drove off back to Erast. The weather seemed quite opposite of how she was feeling. The sky was blue, the sun shone brightly and there was barely a cloud floating around. One could say it was almost a Summer day. Gwyn had never been prone to anxiety, or major nerves but with every minute that they came closer, her heart started to race faster and she could swear her hands were shaking, too. To hide it from view –for both Idés and herself– Gwyn balled her fist on her lap. For a few minutes she willed herself to calm down, but the effort was as good as futile.

In front of the entrance to the EFA, Idés shot her a reassuring smile and she wished she could feel as confident as Idés looked. But she was a wreck of nerves, preparing to be shouted at the second she walked through the door. Her fists were still balled, her fingers cramped from how tight she held those fists. She probably had semi-permanent indents in the palm of her hand right now. Glancing down, Gwyn noticed the slight shake of her fists and hid them in the sleeves of her hoody.

One needed to be deaf, blind and a dimwit to not feel the tension in the air as they entered. And though Gwyn kept her gaze to the ground to avoid looking at anyone, she could feel several pairs of eyes on Idés and her. Idés was the first to enter, apologising for the wait as he held the door open for Gwyn. She shuffled inside and was planning to keep her place behind him but he gestured for her to go further into the room. Fuck, she thought. Gwyn didn’t want to be here, no matter what Idés had said the previous night. All she wanted was to hide, but there was nowhere at HQ where she could go. Idés walked away, likely to take a seat somewhere which left Gwyn standing alone by the door. Feeling uncomfortable, Gwyn lifted her head just enough to take a quick peek at where everyone present was seated. She didn’t need to know who sat where, she just needed to know where she could sit and hide.

Maybe it was luck on her side, or maybe people wanted to be close to wherever Dominic was but the chair in the far corner where she spent most of her days in, was still free. Returning her gaze downward, Gwyn walked over to the chair as inconspicuous as she managed. Not wanting anyone’s attention on her as she sat down, Gwyn turned away from the crowd. Whatever they were going to discuss, she had a gut feeling they weren’t all too happy that Gwyn got to hear it too. So she hoped that she wouldn’t make them feel burdened by turning herself away and staring out of the window to absolutely nothing. Kicking off her sneakers, she shoved them behind the chair with her foot before she brought her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. Her chin rested on her knees and after she made herself somewhat comfortable in a very uncomfortable situation, Gwyn willed herself to zone out and be invisible. If only she could do the latter.

Though he had kept an eye on the door since the first members had arrived, his heart still skipped a pained beat when it opened. Idés was the first to enter of the two, looking nervous but not more disheveled than usual. Gwyn, on the other hand- when she entered the apartment, Dominic’s heart couldn’t seem to decide whether it wanted to beat faster or to sink to his stomach.

She looked a mess. Her blonde hair was shaggy and tangled, dark circles hung underneath her eyes, her whole demeanor was weary, as if she hadn't slept all night. Had she and Idés been up all night? Or had she just not been able to sleep? Because of Dominic?

But she was here. Maybe Dominic shouldn’t feel relieved by that. Nonetheless, he didn’t feel any lighter. Far from it - when his heart finally decided on sinking, it felt heavier than ever.

He remembered that Idés had spoken to him. He averted his gaze from Gwyn, towards Idés instead, clearing his throat. “It's fine,” he said, “It's good that you're here.”

He shot a quick glance towards Gwyn again. She chose the chair furthest away from the meeting. She didn’t even look his way. He wasn’t sure he would feel any better if they were to make eye contact. He wasn’t sure he could look her in the eye right now.

A small nudge to his side brought his attention back to the room. Cassius had ever so lightly elbowed him. Right. The meeting. The article, the- well, everything else than his own feelings.

Dominic shifted in his position, though keeping his arm crossed, his headache throbbing at his temples. Idés voiced his surprise over Fallon’s absence. Another thing to focus on - if Idés wasn’t up to date with Fallon, then who was?

Dominic looked around the room, a frown appearing between his eyebrows. “No one’s heard from Fallon?” Shaking of heads around the room. No one had. That was worrisome, even for Fallon. But there was so much to worry about, Dominic had no room in his groggy body to have a reaction other than “Okay then”, adding shortly after, “Idés, can you check up on him after the meeting?”

After that, he leaned back against the kitchen island, and declared, more assuredly than he felt: “Meeting’s begun. So - any important updates? Dylan?”

Dylan took down his non-pizza carrying hand. “Uhm, yeah,” he said, “Isn’t the article posted by Irene Ford a pretty big update?”

Dominic’s headache snickered and throbbed louder.

“We'll get to the article,” he said, a bit dismissively, before looking outward towards the others, “Anything else?”

Equipped with a slice of pizza, and an excuse not to participate in any pre-meeting small-talk, Cadmus was watching Dominic when the door opened, and – for fuck’s sake, was there anyone left, that wasn’t aware that something was going on between Dominic and Gwyn? – Cadmus followed his gaze: there she was. With Idés of course. Who apologised for the wait. They both looked like they had had a very rough night. Gwyn was definitely worse for wear. The collective attention of the room did not seem to help either. It was obvious that she wasn’t comfortable with being here, and she disappeared to a seat somewhere in the back.

At the dining table, Idés sat down next to him, question in his eyes – same as everyone else. Dylan, who had noticed it too, but had thankfully just taken a large bite of pizza shook his head – Don’t ask. What Idés did ask about, to Dominic, was Fallon. No one, it turned out, had heard anything from him. In how long? Cadmus had not been paying the guy or his absence that much attention, but even he was worried. He tried to swap it for a bit of food; to no avail of course: Fallon walked around with way too much knowledge about their organisation to just disappear like that. If something had happened to him? How could they be sure that the information was safe? Gwyn wasn’t the only weak link Idés was tasked with keeping track of.

Fallon aside – Cadmus had to trust Dominic’s judgement there – the meeting officially began. Cadmus, thinking he might at some point have to say something in regards to the article, forced down the rest of the slice. But when Dylan brought up the article, Dominic dismissed it rather rudely. It made Cadmus wonder what other things there were to discuss. He wasn’t really sure he could deal with ‘anything else’ right then. He at least, didn’t have anything else to add, and shook his head.

A creak interrupted the tension ever so slightly. Light flooded into the room from the now open door and illuminated the dust particles dancing in the air, drawing Cassius eyes towards it. Idés stood there, anxious by the looks of it. Following him was a mess of a human being, it took Cassius a moment to recognize that it was Gwyn. Idés spoke, apologizing for being late before he questioned Fallon’s absence. Idés was perhaps the only one in the efa to consider that wild card a friend. Gwyn lingered by the door, eventually taking a seat in a chair in a corner.  She stared out the window, getting comfortable. Cassius couldn’t tell if she was going to pay attention or not to the meeting.

Noticing Dominic’s glance at Gwyn, and the ever so slightly silence that enveloped the room, Cassius nudged Dominic, reminding him what was important right now. Other matters could be dealt with later. Dominic's question about Fallon was answered with a couple of shaking heads in the room. The fact that no one seemed to know anything about Fallon’s absence was worrying. Cassius started to worry, not for the frivolous carefree man’s well being, but more so what his absence meant for the safety of the EFA. Idés was the one who got the task to check up on him afterwards. Dominic then started the meeting. Dylan brought up the article and was quickly dismissed. The article certainly was something they had to talk about, but for a bit later.

Cassius did not speak up when Dominic asked if there was anything else, rather he looked around the room, waiting for someone to say something, any matter they wanted to bring up. Though he was no nachon he could easily guess that the article was what’s on everyone’s mind at the moment.

While Dominic said it was good they were here, he seemed distant as Gwyn settled down away from the meeting. It wasn’t until Cassius nudged him back into reality that he stepped back into the role as a leader, then he answered Idés’ question. So no one in the room had heard from Fallon. Idés frowned. That couldn’t be good. The list of potential trouble the guy could get himself into wasn’t short. He had seemed fine last time Idés had seen him, but how long ago was that again? Dominic asked if he would check up on him after the meeting. Idés nodded.

“Of course.” Another thing on the to-do list. But if he didn’t do it, who would? He couldn’t help but worry, this was his friend after all. The meeting moved on.

When Dominic asked for an update, Dylan chimed in, mentioning the article, just to be swiftly dismissed. Dylan looked dejected, then shrugged and took another bite of his pizza. Dominic turned towards the rest of the group, asking if anyone had anything else to add. For a short moment there was silence, a buzz from a lightbulb somewhere. Idés should probably look at the electrical zeals because that didn’t sound quite right. Then Mason cleared his throat.

“Knight made this statement. About the prisoners,” Mason spoke, his rough voice sounding tired. They were all tired. Idés was awfully  tired. Getting out his phone, Mason read out loud. “Your hard earned tax money is wasted on trying to tame these rats. Our prisons are infested and the GW’s are our best pest control. It’s time for a hard line, it’s time to lay the poison.”

Idés sighed. That whole movement had gained too much momentum since the death of the prince. Joe Knight, a member of the The Conservative-Labour Party, an outspoken nachon critic – or racist, really – had profited off abject hatred, gaining supporters.  A statement wasn’t policy but it wasn’t reassuring. They were starting to say the quiet part out loud and the centrists weren’t objecting. Another thing to worry about. It probably was a question of time before they allowed the execution of nachon prisoners  at a larger scale as Knight was suggesting.

Mason had an update and, as expected, not a pleasant one. He sounded tired, looked so too. They all did. Dominic surely did - he could feel the heaviness of the bags beneath his eyes.

The prison guard read aloud Joe Knight’s statement, and the pit in Dominic’s stomach lit on fire. He tensed up, his jaw tight, anger burning within him. But the anger swiftly turned to a more insisting headache. He had somehow reached a level of exhaustion where he could no longer be tired. It was nervewracking.

He sighed and lowered his head, rubbing his forehead. “I’m sorry, Mason,” he said. At first, he wasn’t sure why he was apologizing. Mason was human; these awful words weren’t directed at him. Maybe he was just sorry, in general.

Then, he remembered an actual reason behind his apology. “I’m sorry for postponing your mission,” he added and raised his head again, his arms back in a cross. Before the prince was killed and it all went to shit, they had been planning a mission to free a batch of the nachon prisoners currently suffering awful living conditions in jail. But just like everything, it had to be postponed, leaving the prisoners to suffer for a while longer - a fact, Dominic felt sick just thinking about.

“I promise we’ll bring it up again once we have our situation at the HQ under control.” Despite his bad state, there was a layer of certainty in his voice. He wasn't one to break promises. He inhaled deeply, trying to fight his own dizziness before transitioning to the next topic at hand.

“Which brings me to the next point of the meeting,” he said, looking at the others, “I’ve talked to May, and we’ve agreed that the Sanston group allocate some of their resources to us. We haven’t landed on a date yet, but the current plan is for them to arrive at the end of next week. Once here, they will transport the refugees in separate vehicles from Ilomar City to Sanston, where they will facilitate their crossing of the border into Ganthery.”

Not the perfect situation - Ganthery wasn’t nearly as safe as Ydisia. But at least it was safer than Ilomar. At least they were doing something.

Dominic’s eyes landed on Gwyn again. She wasn’t looking, probably not even listening. She must only have gone back because she had nowhere else to go. This didn’t look like a choice. Dominic felt more sick, but in a different way than the anger had caused. He refocused on the group.

“Any questions?”

It turned out, as it always did – Cadmus reflected sadly, wiping his hands on a paper napkin – that what he wanted, or thought he could deal with, had little power over the actual situation. So, Mason cleared his throat, and chipped in with the ‘anything else’ requested by Dominic. Knight made this statement, Mason began, and Cadmus, who did not know about this statement of Knight’s but had a good enough idea of what it would be like, sat very still, holding tightly onto the pizza-crumb-filled napkin, and listened. There was something eerily characteristic about the politicians' words, so similar in text as they would have been at a garden party. Sour memories. Tirades about the right and the wrong people breeding, and at what speed! the children who did not much care to be dragged into the conversations when their ball flew too close to the patio, you are reasonable boys, surely they knew he was right? Tame these rats. The surprised, sunlit face of a teenage boy melted into alleyway shadows. Pest control. He’d seen the writhing figure of a dying rat only once. Knew about the slow suffering, the internal bleeding. It was awful. Disgusting. Exactly what Knight would want for someone like them. Like him.

Cadmus pushed the thoughts of Knight aside, along with the napkin. Placing the latter on the table, his appetite gone. He had no more reason to be concerned than any other Nachon; which was far from reassuring, but enough to get over himself. He let his attention fall back to Dominic, who was apologizing. Seeming, at least at first, a bit out of it – Cadmus was, for instance, not exactly sure what the EFA leader was apologizing for, until he mentioned a mission – oh shit, hadn’t there been plans to break some Nachons out of jail? Cadmus frowned. Dominic did feel guilty about the situation, but he was not the only one to have forgotten. Cadmus had too. Perhaps it was he who was out of it. His mind would probably clear up when the HQ emptied. Right now, with all these people, so much going on? It was enough to give any Nachon a headache.

The solution was right around the corner; onto better news – the Sanston group would help them with the refugee problem. Thank Iosta. The news stirred up the room, Ganthery was not Ydisia, but this was hope, and the excitement was tangible. “Next week?” Someone, Cadmus, was unable to locate who, whispered “That is good, right?” and it was. The current situation could not go on. He might have had questions, and would probably have them later. But meetings were – well – he just couldn’t think properly.

Mason read the statement. Tame the rats, pest control. Words not related at all to the things it sparked in Cassius’ mind. The sentence was so similar yet so different. Cassius could feel his body stiffen slightly at the memories flashed in his mind. A day he could never forget, no matter how much he wished he could. That familiar dance of guilt and grief started up again.

Cassius in an effort to remind himself where he was, the situation going on around him, tightened his fists, digging his nails into his skin. A slight pain in his palm made him focus more on the present. This was not the time to get lost in the past, nor wallow in his own guilt. This wasn’t about him, this was about the efa, the prisoners that they were meant to help. As Cassius focused on the meeting again, Dominic was apologizing. He had a feeling that, like himself, Dominic too felt sick and perhaps even guilt that the prisoners had to suffer longer.

Dominic brought up the next point. Getting the refugees to Sanston and then to Ganthery. Good, the sooner they got out of Ilomar the sooner the better. It wasn’t Ydisia but at least, it was something better than Ilomar. As Dominic asked if there were any questions, Cassius looked around the room, glancing at each person as if to look for someone who perhaps had some questions. He himself didn’t have any. There could also be a possibility that some of those gathered was just waiting for the topic of the article to be brought up again as well.

So, first things first, when the meeting was over, Idés had to drop by Fallon's place. That meant that in a few hours, he could probably resume work where he had to leave abruptly yesterday. That was only if everything went smoothly. Did he have any time sensitive tasks that he absolutely had to take a look on as soon as possible? Dominic’s apologizing tore Idés out of his thoughts. What was he apologizing for? Oh, right, mission. There had been a mission. Another task for another day.  

And then Dominic went on to the next thing on the agenda. And for once, it was good news. The refugees were getting out. Thank Iosta, that was one less thing on the list of things to worry about. And this was a process that they knew, even if the route was different their roles were the same. He almost felt better about that than he did about the Fallon situation. This felt familiar.

As some people muttered about the upcoming mission, Idés poured himself a cup of coffee. At least they were making progress on something. That left only the article to be discussed, right?

Dominic should have felt relief - in fact, he did, but not his own. The airy emotion floated in the room, causing his head to throb louder. He was nauseous and his mouth felt dry. He just wanted this meeting to get over with, so he could go back into hiding in his room, away from all the emotions he could no longer keep out - the others’ as well as his own.

But before he could do that, they had to talk about the elephant in the room. The paper on the dinner table. Irene Ford’s article. Conversations with the EFA. Dominic’s blood boiled, and his nausea worsened.

“Okay,” he exhaled as a response to the lack of questions. People knew what to do. He understood why they felt relieved. He braced himself for the shift in tension, his body tensing at the thought.

“So,” he said, not being able to hide the strain in his voice, “As you all know, there’s been an article posted in Cirrane Press Society by Irene Ford. About us.”

There it was. The tension. Dominic instantly missed the relief. At least, that hadn’t been as heavy. Like a dark ooze, seeping into his skin, covering him. Dominic felt heavy, too.

“The decision was made by me, when we were contacted indirectly by Ford, asking for an interview. It was said that she wanted to give us a chance to have a voice in the public forum.” A bitter taste filled his dry mouth. How stupid of him to have believed her, even hesitantly so. “Cadmus and I arranged an  anonymous online meeting with her in which we answered some of her questions. Answers that, as you probably all have read by now, got misconstrued in the actual article.”

He had barely finished his last sentence before Dylan’s hand was back in the air. Dominic’s chest tightened. The ooze from Dylan was laden with frustration. Dominic knew what was to come. “Got a question, Dylan?”

“Yeah, I got a question,” Dylan said, lowering his hand in a hasty movement “What the fuck, Dom?”

Dominic frowned, his stance broadening. No longer leaning up against the kitchen island behind him, his height was suddenly overt, slightly confrontational. “Elaborate,” he said, sternly.

“You just made a decision on behalf of everyone,” Dylan protested, “Weren’t you the one who said we couldn’t make a public statement? And then you go and do this shit without even asking us.”

“We would have liked to have a saying in this,” Lilith added beside Dylan, calmly compared to his exclamation.

Dominic’s lips became a thin line to restrain himself from letting out an exasperated sigh. He knew it would come - though, he had hoped not to. He had berated himself enough about this.

“We had to act quickly,” he said, “The offer was only briefly on the table and we had to take it to-”

“I don’t think you had to do anything, actually,” Dylan interrupted him with, “Especially not anything going against what we’d agreed on in the group.” He turned his upper body to look around at the others. “I can’t be the only one thinking this.” He then turned to Dominic again, crossing his arms, “If Fallon had been here, I’m sure he would have agreed wi-”

“That’s enough, Dylan.” Dominic snapped at him, then instantly felt bad about it. As if he had any more room for guilt in his body.

While Cadmus could hide himself, seated as he was among the rest of the EFA members, Dominic did not have the luxury of staying out of the spotlight. As unfair as it was, the role of ‘person in charge of things’ did not exempt someone from developing a headache. Dominic was a Nachon too. With the added benefit of constant tension. The perfect cocktail for headaches. Safe to say; Cadmus did not envy him. In fact, his appreciation for the dinner chair under him increased, when the talk returned to the article. It took a moment, and some blinking to adjust to the mood shift. And the attention. Oppressive.

It did not matter that Dominic claimed responsibility for making the decision leading to the article – which was not to say that Cadmus did not appreciate it, as a gesture. But did anyone really believe it? Here was a moment of responsibility from which he could not run. He had ‘okayed’ Edita, and while she had gone on to become a bigger problem than he had initially imagined, he did not regret that decision. Nor did he regret speaking to Irene Ford. Even if they had not gotten the story they wanted, at least their words were out there now. If it could convince just a single person that they were innocent, would it not have been worth it?

Cadmus, however, said none of this out loud. The eyes that shifted to him, when Dominic said his name, were accompanied by a range of emotions, none of them pleasant. Fair enough. Less fair was Dylan’s What the fuck, Dom? It had not been Dominic’s fault, and Cadmus, at least briefly, considered clarifying this. Would Dom appreciate it? See it as help? Want his help? The uncertainty was what held him back. So did his trust in Dominic’s abilities to handle the situation. He did, after all, seem to have anticipated the situation. It was only with Dylan’s: I can’t be the only one thinking this that he thought he had to say at least something.

Still, it came as a surprise to himself when he did speak: ”I think Dominic made the right call.”