8. Fix
Chapter 8
Fix
Cyrus: After the stunt you and Cane pulled looking for Hart, you’ve run out of favors.
Fix: It's not a favor if it's your job
Cyrus: The prints I can do. But I’m not putting a protective detail on a civilian just because you think he’s pretty.
Fix: It's not because I think he's pretty
Cyrus: Black said you did.
Fix: Black talks too much.
Cyrus: That is the general consensus, yes.
Fix: He really is in danger, Cyrus.
Cyrus: Black?
Fix: No, Liam.
Cyrus: I said I’d check the prints. I really can’t justify the protective detail. Sorry.
Fix: Let me know what you find.
Cyrus: Will do.
Cyrus: And tell Black to answer his damn phone. We have a case.
Fix: He’s asleep. He found a new obsession and stayed up all night.
Cyrus: The glassblowers?
Fix: He says the unfinished shapes remind him of demon organs.
Cyrus: Fucking hell, I’m eating.
Fix: Yeah well, I’ll let him tell you all about it in person.
Cyrus: Can’t wait.
F ix put his phone down and picked his coffee cup back up, pushing himself on the swing on their front porch. He sent the flowerbox to PUMA with a note to Cyrus explaining in short what was going on and asking him to dust the box for prints. He didn’t have much hope for anything, but he also didn’t want to be sitting on his ass doing nothing to help.
There had to be a way to find this jackass. If he was even responsible for Liam’s curses. Often or not, Liam did run in shady circles, and that kind of company sometimes led to nasty outcomes.
“You didn’t sleep at home last night.”
Wren settled onto the swing next to him silently, his slight weight hardly rocking it at all as he drew his feet onto the bench. His gaze was fixed straight ahead on the tree line, his messy black hair wayward and the white lock falling into his eye. He was wearing his signature ripped jeans and drowning in what looked like one of Fix’s fleeces that had gone missing months ago.
“How do you know?” Fix asked softly, frowning at the dark circles under Wren’s eyes. “Insomnia again?”
Wren shrugged, blunted and bitten fingernails pulling at the loose denim threads at his knees. “I’m fine. Nothing I’m not used to.”
Fix could see a sliver of that sealed envelope in his pocket. It looked even more worn than before, like Wren had been worrying it in his hands over and over.
Fix debated with himself before saying softly, “But it’s gotten worse lately.”
Wren’s fingers froze and he looked like he stopped breathing for a second.
“Wren—”
“Did you keep him safe?” Wren asked.
Fix accepted the silent request to drop it.
“I don’t think I did much. I broke the curses, but I’m no closer to figuring out where they’re coming from,” Fix said honestly. “I didn’t want to be too far away if something happened to him, so I stayed close by.”
“I’m glad he has you. I think he hasn’t had much kindness in his life.”
“I think so too.” And it killed him.
“You’re the kindest. So he’s lucky.”
Fix sighed and lifted his arm to throw it over Wren’s shoulders. He pulled him close and tucked his head against his neck. Wren wouldn’t stay long. He didn’t like being too close to people. But Fix needed him to know he was there.
“This family will always be a priority, Wren,” Fix said. “I hope you know that.”
Wren stayed silent for a moment, frozen in place and breathing deeply before he wiggled out of Fix’s arms and stood up.
“I don’t need to be a priority,” Wren said quietly, not turning back to look at Fix. “Just…not left behind.”
“Never,” Fix promised, trying to convey all of his heart and conviction.
Wren was silent for a long moment, the breeze teasing through his hair as if trying to coax or comfort. Eventually Wren nodded, just once, then disappeared into the woods.
Fix watched after him, feet wanting to follow but heart knowing Wren needed space. He smiled in relief when Blu fluttered from inside the house, rushing after Wren and perching on his shoulder before he disappeared between the tree trunks.
He pushed the swing a little and kept his eyes trained on the spot where he last saw Wren, mind not exactly present. It seemed as if Liam was the only thing Fix could truly focus on since he’d found him.
Spending the night patrolling his neighborhood hadn’t helped settle the protective need inside him. If anything, the fact that he’d found nothing made him feel even worse. Because he’d decided to leave when nothing was settled, there were no clear answers and Liam was out there all alone.
Fix had no idea if he was okay, if more curses had popped up, if anyone had dropped off any more gifts for him. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, opening a new text and putting Liam’s contact there before closing it and pocketing his phone again.
Liam had to reach out first.
If he ever did.
He got up from the swing and went back inside, busying himself with laundry and vacuuming, hating slow days for creeping up when he least needed them. Usually he was up to his eyeballs in curses, but now, when his mind needed a distraction the most, the entirety of the casting population of Slatehollow had decided to behave.
“Oh my god, what are you doing?” Morgan’s voice rang through the house as Fix was making lunch.
It was followed by Ash’s unmistakable stomp down the stairs. He rounded the corner to the kitchen, the pile of clothes in his arms covering his face. The bruises from his latest fight were turning a lovely shade of green on his knuckles and arms.
“You said I needed to clean out my wardrobe,” Ash said, voice muffled by the fabric.
Morgan appeared in the kitchen behind him dressed in black overalls with moon designs, his elfin face incredulous.
“I didn’t say you had to set them on fire in your backyard!” Morgan said, looking at Fix as if begging him to talk some sense into Ash. “Fix, tell him.”
“Yes, Daddy, tell me,” Ash mocked.
Fix rolled his eyes. “Don’t call me that. And nobody is setting anything on fire in our backyard. You’ll scare the animals and then Wren will murder you.”
“What am I supposed to do with the clothes then?” Ash dropped the pile to the floor and crossed his arms over his skintight gray shirt that read ‘Sugar Rush.’
“Donate them,” Morgan said, poking him in the side. “Sell them. Pack them in a vacuum bag and put it in your basement. Throw them in the garbage. There are a million options other than setting them on fire.”
“You listed four,” Ash grumbled, pouting with his split lip. “And none of them sound fun.”
“Chores aren’t supposed to be fun, Ash.”
“But we could make them fun! I could make a little cozy fire, we can roast some marshmallows, cuddle up, I can kiss you…”
He sauntered up to Morgan, wrapped his arms around his waist, and began kissing his neck.
“You’re not talking me into sitting next to an open flame,” Morgan said, but there was a breathiness to his voice that told Fix he wasn’t as opposed to it as he wanted to seem.
“A tiny, baby one?” Ash asked, scraping his teeth over Morgan’s neck.
“Okay, enough of that,” Fix said before they hopped up onto the kitchen table and started going at it. He reached into his pocket and pulled a lollipop out. “Ash, take the clothes and put them away.”
“But—”
Fix was quick to lean over and shove the lollipop into his mouth. “No buts. Clear out of my kitchen.”
“Fine,” Ash mumbled petulantly, plucking the lollipop out of his mouth and glaring at Fix. “I don’t like lemon.”
“I know,” Fix said. “Out!”
Ash gathered his clothes up and waddled out of the kitchen, grumbling all the way to the door.
Morgan went to head after him, but Fix called out, “Morgan, do you have a moment?”
Morgan seemed utterly surprised but paused easily, taking a few steps back. “Sure. What’s up?”
“How much do you know about streaming platforms for sex workers?”
Morgan raised a curious eyebrow before hopping onto one of their bar stools and leaning forward on his elbows. “From a consumer side or from the other one? Because as a consumer I could give you a list of my favorite sites and performers, but I doubt that’s what you’re after. You don’t seem like the type.”
“It’s not, no,” Fix said. “I have a client who’s a performer on one of the platforms.”
“Which one?”
“I’m not sure.”
“What’s his name? If he’s any good I’ve seen him,” Morgan said. “We like to keep an eye out for competition or new talent.”
Fix shook his head. “No idea.”
“You didn’t ask him?” Morgan asked incredulously.
“I didn’t, no.”
“And you didn’t look him up?” Morgan pressed.
“I didn’t want to invade his privacy.”
More than I already have.
Morgan made a face. “He’s a performer, Fix. Looking at his work is literally the point.”
Fix ran a hand over his face before leaning against the counter and sighing. “I know. But I didn’t want to do it. He’s…he’s different.”
“Ooooooh. Different. As in…yours.”
“How…?”
“Ash might have mentioned your preferences,” Morgan said with a careless flick of his painted fingernails. Fix caught a glimpse of the burn scar on the center of his palm, the image of an eye forever marked. “Not that I didn’t clock them myself. You have daddy written all over you.”
“Oh for—”
“You know I don’t give a fuck,” Morgan said dismissively. “You like what you like. Nobody’s business.”
“Right.” Fix felt like the conversation was not going where he wanted it to go.
“Anyway, streaming platforms.” Morgan put them back on track. “What do you wanna know?”
“How easy would it be for a fan to find personal information about a performer?”
Morgan frowned, dark brows meeting over serious eyes. “My boss puts a LOT of money and effort into security, so I can confidently say our artists are as safe as they can be, but some sites are shady as fuck.”
“So it’s possible?”
“Anything is possible if a motherfucker is determined enough. The level of obsession some people can develop is disturbing. Is your boy okay?”
“He will be.” Fix fisted his hand on the counter. “As soon as I figure out what’s going on.”
“Well, ask him at least which platform he’s on.”
“I told him I wouldn’t look him up. I want to keep my word.”
“And you will,” Morgan said. “Because I just need a platform name and I’ll look him up.”
Fix tilted his head. “You’d do that?”
“My boyfriend’s daddy is my daddy too,” Morgan said with a cheeky smile.
“I’m gonna bake you both into a pie.”
Morgan snorted out a laugh. “I’m just kidding. About the daddy part, not the helping part. If you can get the name of his platform or his performer name I can maybe check out one of his streams and try and see how everything is set up, if the platform is a trustworthy one and how much shit he might be in. I watch A LOT of this, so I can gauge the audience too. The creeps are very easy to spot.”
“Thanks,” Fix said, feeling like a small weight had been removed from his shoulders at having some sort of direction to take this in.
He reached for his phone, opening another text to Liam before hesitating and closing it again.
Morgan smirked. “You’re not gonna ask him, are you?”
Fix smiled, shaking his head as he put the phone down with finality. “I don’t think I am. I made him a promise and I feel like breaking it would ruin the little rapport I’ve managed to build with him.”
Morgan watched him for a moment before smiling gently and hopping off the bar stool.
“You know, Fix,” he said, “I love Ash more than anything, so know I’m saying this in a purely platonic way. You’re one of the best people I know. He’d be a fool to not want you.”
Fix felt himself flush and he looked down, as uncomfortable as he always felt when someone said something nice about him to his face. He just didn’t really know how to handle it.
“Thanks, Morgan. Really.”
“No worries. I’ll go now. He’s been unsupervised for way too long and it’s too quiet.”
“Go stop him before he does something dumb.”
“His entire existence is dumb,” Morgan said with a loving smile he couldn’t hide, saluting him before sauntering off.
Fix went through the motions of finishing lunch, packing it up individually so everyone would have a meal the way they preferred: sauce and pasta separate for Hart, a mountain of spices for Midas, bow-shaped pasta for Black, veggie sauce and vegan pasta for Wren, and half a bottle of hot sauce for Ash.
He ate his portion and cleaned up after himself before retreating to his room. He tried reading, took a shower, and ironed all of their clothes in a desperate attempt to make the time go faster.
It still felt like he had a thousand hours until bedtime.
Naked on his back under the covers, he had his phone in his hand again, another blank text to Liam open. Mocking him.
He knew he couldn’t reach out, and yet everything inside him screamed at him to do it. Just to see if he was awake. If he felt safe enough to sleep. If he needed anything.
He was tying himself up in knots and hating every moment of it. It wasn’t like him. He usually openly cared about people and went out of his way to make sure they were okay. Liam was the exception in his life in every imaginable way, and Fix was struggling to be okay with it. He just wanted him close.
He stared at the open text and groaned, letting his phone slip out of his hands and thump onto the bed. He was behaving like a teenager with a first crush.
He’d forced himself to close his eyes and was trying to go to sleep when his phone rang. He scrambled for it, digging around in his blankets to find it. He finally got a hold of it and nearly choked on his own tongue when he saw Liam’s name pop up on his screen.
“Hello?” he answered, voice sounding wheezy with panic. “Is everything okay?”
“I saw the most interesting thing on my walk with King,” Liam said.
Fix swallowed hard. “Oh? What did you see?”
“A truck. A very familiar truck, driven by a very familiar person. Just…cruising down my street.”
It was a reprimand, but Liam didn’t sound angry. At least Fix hoped he wasn’t.
“I have an evil twin.”
Liam snorted. “Well maybe tell your evil twin he has to up his stealth game?”
“He says he’s sorry,” Fix said, shaking his head.
“He doesn’t sound sorry. In fact, he sounds like he’s gonna quote another obscure cursebreaker rule from a never-before-opened book.”
Fix groaned, sinking deeper into his pillows. “How did you know I never opened it?”
“I literally cracked the spine on it, Fix,” Liam said.
“Rules are still rules.” Fix shrugged as if Liam could see him. “And I am a rule-abiding cursebreaker.”
“So I can expect that to become a regular thing? Your patrols around my building?” Liam asked, and Fix convinced himself he could hear a hint of hope in his voice. As if he liked the idea of Fix being there. As if he wanted the answer to be yes.
“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
Liam fell silent.
It stretched, long and loud between them. Fix could hear Liam breathing on the other side, fast little intakes of air he started counting just to ground himself.
“You don’t, Fix,” Liam said softly, barely audible. “I just…I’m not worth it.”
Everything in Fix shattered at those words. He wanted to claw his way through his phone to Liam to hold him in his arms and show him just how special he was. How infinitely beautiful the world was because he was in it.
“Let’s agree to disagree on that, honey.”
“You said you wouldn’t call me that,” Liam said, but his voice sounded lighter now.
“I’ll try and stop myself,” Fix said. He heard something louder from whatever was playing in the background. “What are you watching?”
“You can hear that?”
“No words, just sounds and inaudible yelling.”
Liam snorted. “You just described half of anime.”
“So it’s an anime?”
“My favorite one, yeah,” Liam said shyly. “ Star Stealer .”
Fix squinted as that name rang bells inside his skull. “Is that the one with the guy and the dog?”
“You’ve seen it?”
“Wren likes it, so I’ve caught it in passing. Some aliens were trying to steal planets and it turned out to be the guy’s parents?”
“YOU WATCHED THE END FIRST!”
Fix blinked. “I did?”
“The series starts with Sora being abandoned on Earth. He grows up on the streets and meets Nova, his dog, in an abandoned mall. They bond and he imbues long life and power into him with the strength of his love and then they work together to stop the star stealers who are terrorizing the galaxies. You aren’t supposed to find out who the star stealers are until the end!!”
Fix found himself grinning so widely his face hurt. A laugh tumbled from deep in his chest.
“Why are you laughing?” Liam demanded, completely affronted.
“I think that’s the most you’ve ever said to me at once.”
Liam’s mouth closed with an audible click.
“And I also think it’s funny how much of a resemblance a certain anime dog has to another dog I met recently,” he continued to tease.
“Entirely coincidental.”
“Uh-huh. I guess it was just fate deciding.”
“You believe in fate?” Liam asked.
“I met you, didn’t I? In a room full of chaos I found you. I wouldn’t know what else to call it but fate. Maybe luck?”
“I don’t have much luck,” Liam said shakily.
“Maybe that can change.”
“We should probably go to sleep,” Liam said at length, dropping the subject.
Fix decided not to push. “You sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine,” Liam said in a gentle murmur.
“And you’re okay with me watching over you?”
“Will you stop if I say no?”
“I’ll do what you want me to, Liam.”
“…Okay.”
Fix waited for a moment before speaking again. “You didn’t say no…”
“I sleep better knowing you’re out there,” came the soft reply before Liam dropped the call, leaving Fix reeling.
He stayed with his phone pressed to his ear as if Liam would come back. It didn’t erase the worry completely, but it eased it enough for him to drift to sleep.
And if he dreamed of running his fingers through golden blond hair and kissing soft lips against a backdrop of stars, nobody needed to know.