~Monday 30th March 2015~
Happy didn't even begin to explain Erin's mood. Elated was more like it yet, still, it didn't quite fit. There weren't words for how Erin felt. He couldn't remember the last time he had smiled so much, or when his heart had felt so light. Maybe when he was a child, those evenings when his father would get home and he would run into the man's arms, swept up into the air with laughter and love. That sounded right. Erin thought it best to keep Henri out of his mind that day, not wanting to darken the mood by reminding himself of his father's absence at his own wedding.
Stepping in front of the floor-length mirror, Erin admired his clothing with another smile cracking over his lips. He had chosen to wear white, simply to follow the traditions of a human wedding. Of course, that had already been performed. Legally, Erin was now Mr Towler, and the thought of that alone had him giggling, covering his mouth to muffle the sound. The more important ceremony was to take place within the next half an hour, when Erin's soul would be bonded with Ross' for the rest of eternity.
Erin ran his fingers down over the ivory silk wound around his form, ensuring his touch was only delicate. The fabric was held together by one single brooch at Erin's hip, and he didn't want to risk it all falling away early. Erin hadn't really been listening when Ross explained the ceremony to him the night he had agreed to bond with the man, too caught up in thoughts of his own wedding. Having such delicate clothing was something to do with offering himself to Ross, and vice versa. Normally, the ceremony would be performed with both parties naked, proving that they were open entirely to one another, however, Erin wasn't quite comfortable with that, so Ross had agreed to the amendment. Even though there was none of his own family there, Erin wasn't particularly happy with the idea of stripping off in front of his in-laws. No matter how natural that was down in Hell.
"Erin..." Thatcher breathed, almost startling the boy with his silent entrance, "you look stunning," Fox was beside Thatcher, wearing an expression that was just as awestruck as the vampire's. They were Erin's 'bridesmaids', or something of the like. Erin couldn't think of anyone else more perfect to be there with him on that day, standing right beside him, witnessing what was to be the one defining moment in the boy's life.
"Stop, you'll make me cry," Erin had to stop himself from touching his face, knowing that the tears would ruin the makeup he had spent so long crafting. Still, it was heartwarming to have his friends there with him. No longer was he trapped in a circle of bitchy girls, only tolerating him because of his sexuality, treating him like nothing more than a stereotype. Finally, he had people around him who actually loved him, who valued his presence and accepted who he really was.
"Are you excited?" Fox drew closer, shifting a few strands of Erin's hair around, adorning an adorable smile that the boy couldn't help but mirror.
"More than ever," Erin wondered whether he would get cold feet. He had feared it from the moment he accepted Ross' proposal. So many brides lost their nerve mere seconds before their wedding, yet Erin didn't feel that. He had never felt more secure in his life in fact. He couldn't imagine a life without Ross. That man was his everything, his eternity, his forever, his life. Without Ross, Erin would be dead. This was the only way he could even begin to give back to the man that had gifted him the world and more.
"You're just missing one thing," Thatcher removed his hands from behind his back, revealing a bouquet of yellow flowers. Roses, dahlias and, most of all, buttercups. Tears really did well in Erin's eyes then but he paid no attention to the threat to his makeup as he took the bouquet from Thatcher.
"How did you know?" Erin's voice came out in a delicate whisper, his eyes locked on the shades of yellow wrapped within black silk. It couldn't have been Ross' doing. Erin had already planned a surprise for the man regarding his favourite colour, this had been just as shocking to him as he imagined his husband would be in a few moments.
"Brenn knows more about Ross than he realises," Thatcher dabbed at Erin's eyes carefully, swiping away the tears before they could do any damage, "we were supposed to go for purple, like the rest of the theme, but this made more sense," Erin wanted desperately to hug his friend. He wanted to embrace the both of them, but he knew the silk around him would give way then. He had to settle for pressing a gentle kiss to Thatcher's cheek, and repeating the action with Fox.
"I love them, thank you. Might actually make him cry," there was somewhat of a betting system going on of what aspect of the ceremony might bring a tear to Ross Towler's eye. Erin thought the first sight might be the key, but he hadn't been sure. Ross didn't cry in public - the bouquet might be just what he needed to change that.
"Well, you save your tears," Fox finished adjusting Erin's hair, giving his shoulder a brief squeeze and rounding the boy to stand beside Thatcher once again, "there's another gift for you. We'll be right back," Erin had to admit, he wasn't the biggest fan of so many surprises that day, however, he wouldn't ever mention that to his friends. It was tradition, apparently. Gifts and treasures and memories were supposed to be shared with the bonded couple. Erin didn't want to alter tradition any more than he already had.
Once Thatcher and Fox had left, Erin's eyes drifted back down to the bouquet in his hands. Another smile curved his lips, leaving him grinning as he brushed his fingers delicately over the tiny petals of the buttercups. Yellow. Ross' favourite colour. Not red, or blue, or black. No, Ross Towler, infamous hitman, chose the shade he desired most to be bright fucking yellow. Erin could only laugh at the irony, shaking his head lightly, before lifting it when he heard the door to the little room he had been dressing in open.
"I'm sorry, I don't-" Erin's words stuttered to a stop as the woman interrupted him. She was beautiful, ethereal, like an angel, and Erin instantly fell into her trance. At least, that's what it felt like. He couldn't bring himself to speak, only tearing up as her words really hit him, deafening and silent all at once. The bouquet slipped from his fingers, crashing to the floor silently, with the silk around it unfurling, littering yellow flowers and petals over the cold stone beneath.
Once the woman was finished, Erin found himself crying. Makeup running, smudged down his cheeks, split by tracks that his tears had taken. He stepped forward shakily at first, yellow petals crushed under his bare feet, before he managed to find his strength. Eyes ablaze, tears still coursing down his cheeks, Erin exited the dressing room. Those that he passed, staff, demons, hellhounds, all regarded him with confused expressions. He wasn't set to walk down the aisle for another ten minutes. He was early. And he couldn't care less.
"Wait, Erin, what are you-" with one well-timed glower toward Thatcher, he went silent. Erin was starting to understand the term 'Bridezilla'. He certainly felt like a monster as he stalked into the grand hall and silence reigned. Guests turned to stare, attention caught by the loud crashing of the doors opening and Erin coming to a stop at the end of the aisle.
When his eyes landed on Ross, coated in black silk, first looking so truly happy, then switching to a far more concerned expression, Erin's wrath dwindled down to sorrow. His lips quivered as he tried to think of the words he needed to say. Moments before, he had wanted to yell until his throat ran raw. He had felt murderous, and now all he felt was pain. Guttural, throbbing, centred in the depths of his chest. It was his wedding day, and he couldn't possibly feel any more miserable.
"You had my dad killed?" Erin could only muster a whisper. No matter what he had felt before, no matter the rage that had consumed him so fiercely, his voice came out as nothing more than a shaky whisper. Still, in that hall, it sounded as though it echoed and resonated against the high ceilings. Ross heard him.
"Princess, it isn't like that..." Ignoring those around him, Ross began his walk down the aisle toward Erin, "please, let me-" Ross ground to a stop suddenly, the pain in his expression flickering to something else. Something terrified.
"Where is he?" That same soft-spoken voice from before sounded different now. That woman. Erin had never gotten her name, he had flown into a blind rage after what she had told him, and now he felt awfully stupid for listening at all. He couldn't move, a slender arm rounding his torso, completely still as it held a long dagger to his chest. The tip rested over his heart, pressing in enough to leave an indent but not quite split the skin beneath. Erin didn't need to ask to know that dagger would kill him. He saved his words, trying his best to control his breathing as he watched Ross through tearful eyes. Not today. Any other day, he prayed, just let them have that day. Don't hurt Ross like that.
"Iris, you don't need to do this," Ross' eyes shifted to the right ever so slightly, watching the woman rather than Erin, "please, just let him go and we can talk. Please, don't hurt him," Erin could hear the fear in Ross' voice. Laced into the words, shining through in his expression, dripping down his cheeks in thick tears. Erin had gotten Ross to cry, alright, but not in the way he had desired.
"Where is he?" The woman repeated, her words becoming more pointed, "where is Michael? Where is our son?!" Erin didn't have chance to question what the woman was talking about when the dagger finally did press into his flesh, sending fire cascading through his veins. It was only a few centimetres, but it was enough for the Lobelia the blade was imbued with to take its hold, leaving Erin breathless, low whines slipping over his parted lips, tears spilling out over his cheeks.
"Dead! He's dead!" Ross roared, falling to his knees with a choked sob, eyes locked with Erin as the boy wept futilely, "please don't," Ross' voice grew thin, his chest heaving with the broken breaths that managed to work their way out through his fitful crying, "please... I couldn't save her, I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry. It's all my fault, everything is. She's dead because of me but, please, don't kill him. Please. Please, Iris, just let him live. He isn't a part of this," Erin's tears didn't fall for himself anymore. They fell for the man in front of him. Kneeling, begging for his life, broken beyond means that Erin didn't think he could fix. Ross Towler, a name written in infamy, soaked in blood... Ross Towler, the man broken.
"Why do you keep saying she?" Despite Iris removing the tip of the dagger from Erin's chest, leaving it resting against his skin once again, he couldn't draw in the breath he wanted to. He couldn't feel relieved whilst watching the man he loved so dearly break apart right in front of him. That hurt a thousand times more than the dagger.
"Michael..." Ross sighed heavily, keeping his eyes on Erin as his shoulders sagged and the boy saw the truth behind the man's real mask - pure, unadulterated agony, a lifetime's worth in one fatal expression, "was born in the wrong body. He wasn't a boy, and he didn't die a man," Ross paused briefly, catching his breath, "Mia. That was the name we chose. She liked that most. She was beautiful..." Ross let out a laugh bittered by tears, "furs, that was her poison. She loved them, I bought her whatever she wanted. By the end, she must have had a fur coat to go with every dress she owned," Ross wiped his eyes, clearly trying to compose himself, offering a meek smile to Erin, maybe to reassure him, maybe for some other reason that the boy couldn't be certain of, "the world has always been cruel, but it was exceptionally cruel to Mia. She could only dress like the woman she really was, there was no way to alter her body, not back then. She never complained, not once. She was happy. She had love, she could wait for the world to catch up with her... They beat her to death. Six men. They wanted to rape her, and found she wasn't right. So they killed her. In the darkness. Alone. I couldn't protect her, I wasn't there," in that moment, Erin wanted nothing more than to hold Ross. There wasn't a man there, only a shell. He knew Ross had been through so much, but the pain that he had shown Erin was only the beginning. This was far deeper than the skin, rooted within the darkness of Ross' soul, eating away at him with each day that passed. If only he had told Erin, maybe the boy could have helped him come to terms with the guilt of his perished child.
"She's gone?" Iris' hand was shaking now, her grip faltering, yet Erin didn't dare make a move. Ross had lost enough, he couldn't bear the thought of the man coping without him too. Not like this.
"Yes. I'm sorry. I can show you where she's-" Ross lurched forward suddenly, eyes wide, panic setting into his expression. Yet, Erin felt nothing. The dagger wasn't touching his chest anymore, but there was blood spattered over him. He felt it on his face, the droplets rolling sullenly down his cheek, on his arms too, bare and exposed flesh littered with patches of red. Then Ross was holding him, arms wrapped so tightly around the boy that he couldn't move, couldn't even breathe.
"An eye..." Despite Ross' embrace, Erin managed to tilt his head, finding the source of the blood. Iris had taken the dagger to her wrists, blood seeping out onto the violet carpet in two growing pools around the woman's frail form, "for an eye..." she hissed out, clearly close to losing consciousness. Erin wasn't sure what she was talking about, until her gaze set directly onto him, a wicked glint flashing through the pale blue of her eyes that sent his own blood running cold, "burn with your mother..."
"Oh God," Erin breathed, lifting one bloodied hand to cover his mouth once Ross stopped holding him so tightly, "she killed my mom," Erin couldn't move his eyes from Iris' corpse, her face still twisted with the wrath that consumed her even in death, glassy eyes still set on the boy, "fuck, I killed Jordan, and he didn't-"
"He deserved it, princess," Ross murmured, words half-muffled as he pressed gentle kisses to Erin's hair, keeping one arm wound securely around the boy's waist, "I think we need to talk."
Erin was silent as he and Ross retired to another room adjacent to the grand hall. They were followed by those they deemed close, Ross' parents, his brother, even Wraith and Jasper. Thatcher was dabbing at Erin's cheeks, trying to remove the blood without worsening the makeup anymore. In the end, Erin simply took the cloth from him and wiped away the lot of it. He wasn't even sure whether the ceremony would continue after this. Those cold feet had finally hit, and Erin was chilled through to the bone.
"She was my wife," Ross finally admitted, head hanging low and voice hoarse from his tears, "we were married a long time ago. She didn't know who I was, or what I did. Mia was only an infant when Iris found out. She went insane. She said that Mia was a product of something depraved and sickening and that I didn't deserve to have an heir to the infamy I had made of myself... Iris tried to smother Mia whilst she slept. After that, I knew I couldn't trust her. I took Mia and ran. I had hoped Iris might have moved on, or at least died somehow. I didn't even realise she had been following me all these years, I didn't think she cared so much about Mia. Not after what she tried to do," Ross was across the room from Erin, sitting on one of the couches with his mother to his right and Lucifer perched on the armrest. Erin happened to like Lucifer. He was nice, strangely enough. In the time that Erin had spent with him, they had laughed together. There was no laughter anymore.
"You never told me about her, or Mia. You never mentioned her at all, Ross," Erin was trying to remain calm. He wanted to be there for Ross, to have and to hold, but he was conflicted. First, Ross had a family that Erin had never been informed of, and then there was the issue with Henri's death. Erin couldn't ignore that, despite it having to be put second due to Iris, he had to know in the long run. He needed answers.
"She died when I was in prison. She was the reason I chose to let the humans arrest me, to keep her safe," Wraith turned away suddenly, covering his mouth, seeking out his own husband as he began to cry. Jasper cradled him, taking him aside whilst they spoke in hushed tones. Ross followed with his eyes, then returned them to his lap once again, refusing to meet Erin's gaze at all.
"Wraith blames himself," Ross added in a tone that was just as grim as before, not reacting in the slightest when Cheryth began to rub his back, "I left her in his care, they were lovers. The one night he wasn't with her, she died," Erin looked toward Wraith, whose face was still hidden away whilst Jasper continued to whisper softly to him, "I blamed him for a while, but it wasn't his fault. It all comes back to me. If I hadn't left, if I hadn't decided to give in to the humans, she'd still be here."
"Don't do that," Erin spoke finally, walking closer to Ross, yet sitting on the couch opposite him rather than any closer - fearful of his own reaction to the man if they were to touch, "none of this is your fault, and blaming yourself won't bring her back," if anyone could understand grief, it was Erin. He was an orphan at only twenty-one.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," Ross raised his head, tearful eyes meeting Erin's, "talking about her... It doesn't help," Erin had thought that too. He hadn't spoken for two months after finding his father's corpse because talking just hurt too much. When he finally listened to the therapists that his mother hired, he found that the silence was what was killing him. It gave him time to think, and to process, but it also forced him to relive the experience. He was stuck in a cycle of grief and agony, and speaking allowed him to finally break free.
"I think you need to talk to someone, Ross," Erin kept his voice level, calm, despite all the eyes in the room flickering over to him, "a grief counsellor, a therapist, anyone. Not me, I'm too close. And not Brenn, or Wraith, or anyone else that is a part of your life. You can't go on like this, hating yourself, bottling everything away. You have too much trauma, it won't end well," sometimes, all it took was the suggestion of help, and a person could finally accept that they weren't well. Erin doubted it would be so simple for Ross, however, he knew that this was just the beginning. The man had helped him through his own issues, they were both survivors, Erin was prepared to do anything to help his husband get better.
"I don't know what Iris told you, but killing Henri wasn't my intention," Erin dropped his eyes then, returning them to his lap and choosing to avoid Ross this time. Even when the man moved to sit next to him, Erin shifted away, out of reach, unable to bring himself to touch the hands that caused his father's death. Intention or not, Ross had killed Henri Maye, and Erin wasn't sure whether he could forgive that.
"That stubbornness," Erin's head snapped up suddenly, whirling around to the door behind him when he heard that voice, "that definitely was from your mother's genes," tears clouded Erin's vision as he rose, on shaky feet, unable to comprehend the sight before him, "you grew up so well, Rinni," that smile. Erin crumbled at that damn smile, practically sprinting across the room, leaping into his father's arms. He wasn't sure he had ever hugged someone so tightly, terrified that it was some illusion, clutching onto the man's suit as those he would melt away before his very eyes.
"I-I don't understand..." Erin whispered, refusing to let go of Henri. It had to be fake, some hallucination brought on by the adrenaline rush moments ago. Henri couldn't be there, real, tangible, it just wasn't possible.
"Every bride should have someone to walk them down the aisle," Lucifer chimed in, wearing a soft smile of his own whilst he ran his fingers through Cheryth's long, dark hair, "my blessing to your union. You have until the break of this day," if Erin had been willing to let go of his father, he would have hugged Lucifer too. For the time being, he only mouthed a thank you to the old god, who nodded curtly.
"I should have known that you and Ross would meet one day," Henri pressed a gentle kiss to Erin's hair, keeping an arm around his son's waist whilst he looked to Ross, who had stood from the couch by this point, "honestly, I couldn't have predicted this, but I knew your paths would cross. It was practically written in the stars," half a laugh bubbled over Erin's lips as he reached out, taking Ross' hand and drawing him closer, keeping a hold of him too. The old and the new. The two most important men in the boy's life.
"Ross had the fire set to destroy my research," Henri explained, without an ounce of wrath in his expression as he glanced to Ross briefly, "it was to protect me, really. All of us. I was basing too much of my findings around the black market, asking questions I shouldn't have. Ross' intention was to set me back, it was my own stupidity that was my end," there had always been the question of why Henri had returned to the house, he had brought one of the boxes from his office out onto the front porch, but he had faced the fire again, leading to his demise, "there was a box of photo albums. Your mom had brought them down from the attic, we were looking through them together the night before. I went back for them," Erin couldn't help it, he hit his father's shoulder, scowling at the man.
"You fucking died for baby pictures?" Henri only chuckled, nodding, not looking in the slightest bit apologetic for his actions. Well, at least he was self-aware, he did say it was his own stupidity that had caused his death.
"They were irreplaceable."
"You were irreplaceable," Erin sniffled, wiping his eyes, not wanting any more tears to fall. Instinctively, he leant left, moving seamlessly into Ross' arms and resting his head on the man's chest. There was a moment of tension, before Ross' arms wound around Erin, hugging him tightly, their silent forgiveness between the two.
"OK," Erin drew in a deep breath, trying a smile and finding that it came much easier than he had first thought, "I might need a few minutes, but I think I'm OK," Ross tilted his head to the side ever so slightly, that adorable little confused frown drawing down his brows, "you still want to go ahead with the ceremony, right? I mean, we're already husbands and-" Ross silenced Erin with a kiss, tender and lingering, leaving the boy wishing for more. A lifetime more.
"Anything for you, princess."