Black and Blue

24 - Bargaining

Of course I didn't want to go back. Any reasonable person wouldn't. I wasn't even summoned this time—Jack and I seemed to silently agree that the only way to fix all of this was to deal with the devil. Whether Chernobog had been behind this or not was still up for speculation, though Vickson's comment about "planning another message" told me all I needed to know. I'd started cursing his name for every little inconvenience, every tiny trial I endured because of my blindness. I'd started calling him boss. The word held every ounce of bitterness for me as it did Jack, and I wasn't exactly wrong in calling him that; I'd been his dutiful employee for a good few months, from working alongside Nyx...

Oh, god. I wasn't ready to start thinking about her again.

The point is, we ended up going back anyway. Straight back to the realm, and straight to Jack's boss himself. As weak as I'd become over the past several days, we were both prepared to kick his ass if and when this all went downhill. At least, prepared as we could have possibly been. Jack needed to creep around in complete darkness to get to the park—some part of me wondered if he would ever get his human disguise back again—and I needed to be guided around, a fact that struck me shamefully and sent me into a tiny spiral when I realized it. I still hadn't gone outside more than two times since the "accident."

We came to another compromise; he would guide me there, and I would stay in the shadows with him.

"What if..." I mused over cold canned soup, drumming my fingers on my chin. "...I went out, bought a water gun from some nondescript store and stormed the realm myself?"

Jack snorted. "Good one." He paused. "You finished with that? You've been staring at it for, like, five minutes now—"

"No, wait a second. Hear me out. I mean, your boss would kind of have no choice but to do what we said...? Y'know, fight fire with fire. Violence is the only language people understand," I said in a dramatic moan, holding out my arms before me like a tormented Shakesperian hero. He sighed and tapped the empty Campbell's can.

"We throwing this out?"

"Uh—recycle," I answered after a moment's hesitation. "And don't try to tell me it wouldn't work. Water is like some forbidden, end-all-be-all weapon there, right? Last time I used it against him, he—"

"Escaped?" Jack pulled up a chair beside me to sit down. "I think you're forgetting he can travel through walls. Who's to say he won't just run away again?"

I muttered curses into my arm resting on the table, the words grinding up and mixing with each other in my mouth until they turned into an incoherent stew. With one final scoff, I said, "Just crush my dreams, why don't you."

He clicked his tongue, kissed me on the cheek and stood up. "Hey. We're going to be fine, okay? He might not even try anything this time." He gently lifted my chin, but didn't turn my face towards him.

"And if he does, you know what we're gonna do?"

I gave in to a tiny smirk. "Haul his ass?"

"Bingo. Ready when you are," he said with a pat on the back as he walked to the door.

All the way to the realm, naturally, I became conscious of how vulnerable I was. Very conscious. Branches grazed my arms, barely protected as they were, and I'd shrink into myself a tiny bit more each time. Jack always reached to comfort me, but words seemed to fail him at this point. There was nothing more to say; and he could tell I didn't like repeats.

We finally reached the clean circles of ash marking the realm's entrance. Hot air blasted up from around my feet and seemed to be trying to ward me off. This typical drying-off process had, ironically, never felt like the warmest welcome to me. But even now, it seemed crueler. More hostile. You're not wanted here, it said.