Fear me, Love me

The Aboveworld

Thorn struggled to keep the dead soothed and calm. It was too soon. He needed a way to open Lauren's cage and some knowledge about the Warden's powers before he made his move. The souls that refused to rest he put to work. Quiet work. Tracking people was always his speciality, after all – you can't hide from ghosts. Moving with quiet purpose, he stalked the Warden through the forest of towers.

The spirits urged Thorn to the edge of a gigantic pit. Careful with his footing, he peered down the shaft and the heat of fires smarted his face. His cold children urged him on. Thorn climbed down, struggling to make foot holds out of rock crevices. Sweat rolled in beads down his face and his arms trembled like a leaf. He envied the Warden his wings of steel.

When the fires started to melt his shoes, Thorn dropped to the ground and rolled. His knees cracked from the impact but he'd successfully rolled through the flames and was no longer in danger of being cooked alive. He struggled to catch his breath – the smoke rose over him obscuring the world above. His sooty hand protectively covered the scars that ravaged half his face.

***

"TALK!" Ryder had screamed at him, veins throbbing in his forehead as he glowered at the giant. Thorn had remained resolutely mute - making Ryder scream in frustration. "Why won't you fucking TALK!" He'd slammed his fist into Thorn's face. 

The necromancer had gone very still but made no move to retaliate.

Ryder had stared at him in horror, tears glistening in his dark eyes. "Stop me. Stop me from hurting you." 

Thorn's gaze had dropped to the ground between them. 

Ryder, staggering back, had gripped onto the kitchen surface for support. "You crazy fuck." He'd spat.

Thorn had held very still. He'd heard Ryder slam the door shut behind him and pull the bolts across. They were back to locking him up then. Thorn had hung his head in defeat. 

He'd tried – tried to leave Ryder and his fucked up love but he couldn't. He was passed the point of no return. He needed Ryder to be the one to push him away because this love – this love would kill him.

Ryder had stormed from the house. It had been one of their retreats, secreted in the middle of nowhere – hidden from the government. 

Michael had gotten to his feet on seeing his masters approach. 

"Ryder," he'd entreated eagerly but Ryder hadn't seen him. He'd stormed on by. 

Michael had clenched his hands into fists at his sides and glared up at the house. Thorn had upset Ryder again. He always upset him. Things would be better with Thorn out of the picture.

Thorn had been sat with his back against the tiled wall, his eyes closed. He could fall asleep anywhere, however small and uncomfortable – it was a skill he'd mastered growing up with his delinquent brothers. His breathing had evened out as he slipped into fitful slumber. He hadn't see the oven suddenly burst into life – hadn't heard the hiss of the gas.

Ryder had stomped angrily, mussing up his hair with his shaking hands. 

He was getting unfocused. He had a mission. He couldn't forget Elle – trapped in that foul prison, waiting for him. Ever since he'd met Thorn - he'd become distracted, overwhelmed, confused. 

A mighty blast had erupted behind Ryder -all the windows in the house shattered as flames burst out of them. Ryder's mouth had gone dry with fear.