Fangs | mlm

Epilogue - All's well that ends well

Everything was all right.

Or so Trevor thought. He had gone back to normal. Or rather, the new definition of normal. So much time had passed. He'd already had his birthday—after a solid week spent at the hospital, two weeks total of recovery, and an additional week he'd had to stay at his parents' house, from which he could barely escape to the city at last. But now it was mostly back to normal. He lived in London again. Different apartment, no roommates (his parents managed the rent for now), but the same place of work. The same old, shabby café. But he didn't mind. He didn't mind that he was now amid his shift, cleaning the coffee machine. He didn't mind that he was home at last.

Then the bell rang—as it always did, even if he didn't want it to—and probably a new customer went inside the café. Trevor didn't react anymore. He didn't raise his head or stop what he was currently doing to check who ventured inside their little enterprise. It was not one of his habits anymore. The sun was still up high in the sky, and his shift wasn't going to end any time soon. So why bother? People came and went, and it was just the way of things he'd learned to accept a long time ago. For the past two years he'd worked there it hadn't changed. A little more time and he would be the longest standing employee at the mere age of twenty seven.

As he fought with the coffee machine, in vain, the new customer's voice filled the space as they ordered what their soul desired or more precisely what was on the menu. Fortunately, the orders weren't that customizable. Carson, Trevor's coworker, spoke in the distance, but soon footsteps followed, slowly approaching Trevor from behind.

"The guy wants to talk to you," he said, leaning slightly over to him. He spoke in a hushed voice. "He knows your name. Do you happen to know anyone called Jackson?"

A grimace of thought passed through Trevor's face before his eyes popped in disbelief, his mouth opened. He couldn't believe his ears. Why would he show up now? It had been longer than any of them had settled on. Did something happen to William? What if he was dead? Could he even be dead? But he needed to stay cool and calm. He owed it to him. "Yeah. It's all right. I'll handle it." He put a hand on Carson's back.

Trevor turned around, expecting to see someone wearing all black, chains, with a cap on top of his head, but he was disappointed, as the person was taller than Trevor remembered Jackson to be and more slender. There was a cap, but it was more of a sports kind, with a visor. This person was too tall for Jackson, and too different for William. When he couldn't recall who it was and why they knew his name, he froze in place. Just for a second. His fight-or-flight reflex was working and whirling its controls in his mind. Why and how would they know Jackson's name?

Eventually, he reluctantly made his way to them. Where would he run to anyway?

"Can I have a latte? Big, decaf." His voice was oddly familiar, as if Trevor had heard it somewhere before. And suddenly he had an idea from where. It clicked. He almost gasped and was glad he wasn't holding anything, since he would most likely drop it.

"William?" His voice was weak but hopeful.

He raised his eyes to meet Trevor's. He hadn't changed at all. Maybe his hair was a little shorter, and clothes a bit different, more basic, probably to blend in with the people in the streets. But it was still the same William he had remembered. William stood on the other side of the counter, and he was basically speechless. He twinkled, face pulled in a smile. "How did you guess? I thought you'd ask my name after I pay."

"What?" He couldn't raise his voice more. He didn't want his co-worker to suspect anything. For now. "What're you doing here? William?"

"It's time, Trevor. Remember?" He smiled again, and Trevor realized that maybe they were taking a little too long at the register. But on the other hand, he was someone Trevor supposedly knew, which was true, of course.